20GTHE DUKE OF LEUCIITENBERG.
`\Vhen the officiating bishop presented the married pair to their august parents, the latter embraced them with a warmth that was aífecting. The moment afterwards the Empress threw herself into the arms of her husband — an effusion of tenderness which would have better suited a chamber than a chapeclass="underline" but in Kussia the sovereigns are at home every where, not excepting the house of God. The tender emotion, however, of the Empress appeared altogether involuntary, and therefore did not shock the feelings. Woe to those who could find any thing to ridicule in the emotions produced by true and natural feeling ! Such exhibitions of sensibility are sympathetic. German kindheartedness is never lost; there must indeed be soul when feeling is allowed to betray itself even upon the throne.
Before the benediction, two doves were, according to custom, let loose in the chapel; they quickly settled on a gilded cornice which jutted out directly over the heads of the wedded pair; and there they never ceased billing and cooing during the whole mass. Pigeons are well off in Russia: they are revered as the sacred symbol of the Holy Ghost, and it is forbidden to kill them: fortunately the flavour of their flesh is not liked by the Russians.
The Duke de Leuchtenberg is a tall, well-made young man, but there is nothing distingue in his features. His eyes are handsome, but his mouth projects and is not well formed. His figure is good without being noble: a uniform becomes him, and supplies that want of grace that may be observed in his person. He looks more like a smart sub-lieutenant
IMPATIENCE OF THE DUKE.207
than a prince. Not one relation on his side had come to St. Petersburg to assist at the ceremony.
During the mass he appeared singularly impatient to be alone with his wife ; and the eyes of the whole assembly were directed, by a kind of spontaneous sympathy, towards the two pigeons perched above the altar.
I possess neither the cynicism nor the talent for description of St. Simon, nor yet the ingenious humour of the writers of the good old times; I must therefore here dispense with some details that might prove rather amusin¤; to the reader. In the аце of Louis XIV. they exercised a liberty of language, which was fostered by the certainty of there being no hearers, except those who all lived and spoke in the same manner: there was then plenty of society, but no public. In these times, there is a public, but no society. With our fathers, every narrator in his own circle could state facts without reference to consequences ; in the present day, all classes being mixed, there is a lack of benevolence, and therefore of security. Freedom of expression would appear mauvctis ton to people who have not all learnt their French from the same vocabulary. A certain degree of plebeian sensitiveness has insinuated itself into the language of the best society in France; the greater the number whom we address, the greater the necessity for assuming a grave and precise mode of speaking; a nation demands more respect than an intimate society, however refined that society may be. As regards decorum in language, a crowd is more precise than a court. Freedom of speech becomes in-
208AN INCIDENT.
convenient in proportion to the number of listeners. Such are the reasons which deter me from relating that which, this morning in the Imperial Chapel, brought a smile on the face of more than one grave personage, and, perhaps, more than one virtuous lady. But I could not pass over quite silently an incident which singularly contrasted with the majesty of the scene, and the necessity for gravity imposed upon the spectators.
At one part of the Greek marriage ceremony every one is obliged to kneel. Before prostrating himself with the others, the Emperor cast around the assembly a searching, and by no means pleasing glance. It appeared as though he woiúd assure himself that no one remained standing—a superfluous precaution : for though there were among the foreigners present both Catholics and Protestants, it never, I am certain, entered into the thoughts of one not to conform, externally, to all the ceremonies of the Greek church. *
* The fear of the emperor, is in some measure explained- by an account sent me from Rome, in the month of January, 1843, by one of the most veracious individuals whom I know.
" The last day in December I was at the Church del Gesu ; it was decorated in a magnificent manner, the organs were playing beautiful symphonies, and all the most distinguished people in Rome were present. Two chairs were placed on the left of the superb altar for the Grand Duchess Marie daughter of the Emperor of Russia, and her husband the Duke of Leuchten-berg. They arrived attended by their suite and the Swiss guards, who formed their escort, and seated themselves on their chairs without previously kneeling on the cushions opposite, or paying any attention to the holy sacrament exposed before their eyes-The ladies of honour sat behind, which obliged the prince and
MUSIC OF THE IMPERIAL CIÏAPEL.209
The possibility of a doubt oil such a point, justifies some of my previous observations, and authorises ni} repeating that a restless severity has become the habitual expression of the physiognomy of the Emperor.
In these times, when revolt pervades, as it were, the very air, perhaps autocracy itself begins to fear lest some insult should be offered to its power. This idea would clash disagreeably, and even terrifically, with the notions which it preserves of its rights. Absolute power is most to be feared when it is itself under the influence of fear. In noticing the nervous affection, the weakness, and the emaciated frame of the Empress, I called to mind what this interesting woman must have suffered during the revolt at the time of her accession to the throne. Heroism repays itself; it is by fortitude, but a fortitude that exhausts life.
I have already said that every body had fallen on their knees, and, last of all, the Emperor; the lovers were united; the imperial family and the crowd arose; the priests and choir chanted the Те Deumb and discharges of artillery, outside, announced the consecration of the marriage to the eity. The effect
princess to turn their heads in order to carry on the conversation, which they continued to do as though they were in a saloon. Two chamberlains remained standing, whereupon a saeristan, supposing they wanted seats and busying himself to provide them, excited much unsuitable laughter on the part of the prince and princess. The Pope remained during the whole ceremony, which was a rendering of thanks to God for the blessings of the past year, upon his knees. A cardinal gave the benediction, when the Prince of Leuchtenberg knelt also, but the Princess continued seated."
210MUSIC OF THE IMPERIAL CHAPEL.
of this exquisite music, mingled with the thunder of the cannon, the ringing of the bells, and the distant acclamations of the people, was inexpressibly grand. All musical instruments are banished from the Greek church, and the voices of human beings only there celebrate the praises of God. This rigour of the oriental ritual is favourable to the art of singing, preserving to it all its simplicity, and producing an effect in the chants which is absolutely celestial. I could fancy I heard the heart-beating of sixty millions of subjects—a living orchestre, following, without drowning, the triumphal hymn of the priests. I was deeply moved: music can make us forget for one moment even despotism itself.
I can only compare these choruses without accompaniment, to the Miserere as sung during the Passion Week in the Sixtine chapel at Rome; but the chapel of the Pope is but the shadow of what it formerly was. It is one ruin more amid the ruins of Pome. About the middle of the last century, when the Italian school shone in its brightest lustre, the old Greek chants were re-arranged, without being spoilt, by composers who were brought to Petersburg from Rome. The works of .these strangers arc chefs-d`œuvre, which is mainly owing to all their talent and science having been applied in subservience to the works of antiquity. Their classic compositions are executed with a power worthy of the conception. The soprano, or children's parts — for no woman sings in the imperial chapel— are perfectly correct: the basses have a strength, depth, and purity, that exceed any thing I recollect having heard elsewhere.