Hugh & Legaré to his Sisters-Visit of the Queen of France to Brussels. long avowed a mutual flame; and the second, who is to be married next month, is nearly a perfect beauty. But it is the sweet blood, and the naturalness and gayety of heart which I chiefly admire in them; and after my lonely journey and tiresome elec tion, the delight of roaming about these vernal valleys, in the idleness of a long sunny day, in the midst of their bright smiles and happy laughs, reconciles me to existence again. It is a strange huge house, built almost eighty years ago, on a sort of Italian model, and full of old pictures and books, and cabinets full of gimcracks, and portfolios crammed with antique original sketches and engravings, and closets full of old plate and rusty china, which would give Thomson and you, and Johnny Clerk in his better days, work enough for a month; though I, who have only a day to spare, prefer talking with living creatures. This is all very childish and foolish I confess, for a careful senator, at a great national crisis. But I have really been so hard worked and bothered of late, that you must excuse me if I enjoy one day of relaxation. I go off to-morrow at six o'clock, etc. XLIII.-VISIT OF THE QUEEN OF FRANCE TO BRUSSELS. Hugh S. Legaré to his Sisters. BRUXELLES, March 24th, 1833. MY DEAR SISTERS: I have adopted the plan of writing to you both at the same time, that there may be no heart-breaking jealousy between you about so important a matter as my attention. I told mama I should give you a more particular account of what passed here during the French queen's visit to Brussels, which took place about two weeks ago, and continued until last Hugh S. Legaré to his Sisters-Visit of the Queen of France to Brussels. Monday afternoon, when she left this city, and arrived in Paris in less than twenty-four hours, having travelled all night. I have repeatedly mentioned how much I admire that great lady, with whom I had the honor of dining at the pretty chateau of Neuilly, near Paris, when I was there last summer. What I saw of her during her stay here, confirmed all those favorable impressions. Her grace, dignity, and affability (condescenion it may be, but there is no appearance of that), are really irresistible, and equalled only by her exemplary virtues as a wife and a mother-virtues which happen to shine forth more brilliantly this moment, in contrast with the public infamy of the Duchess of Berry. The Queen arrived here, accompanied by her second daughter, the Princess Marie, and two ladies of honor, under the protection (as we should say of a private person) of her son and heir apparent, the Duke of Orleans, a well-looking young man of some two and twenty years or thereabouts. The day after their arrival was passed in the family circle, but on Sunday (the next day) there was a grand diplomatic dinner of fifty covers at court, at which I had the honor of assisting, with the British ambassador, the French, and their Secretaries of Legation, all the Ministers of State, the Presidents of the Senate and House of Representatives, some generals, the ladies of honor of the two Queens, etc.; and last, but by no means least, the Duke and Duchess d'Arenberg, who are decidedly at the head of society here, and, indeed, are of an almost royal house. As soon as all the guests were assembled in the salle de reception, and after the Duchess of Arenberg, who had been presented in private audience in another saloon, returned, the royal party made its appearance, the Queen of France leaning upon the arm of her son-in-law, King Leopold; Hugh & Legaré to his Sisters-Visit of the Queen of France to Brussels. the Queen of the Belgians on that of her brother, the Duke of Orleans, and the Princess Marie accompanied by her Lady of Honor. The rest of the party only saluted at entering, and stopped near the door, but the Queen of the French went round the whole circle, beginning, of course, with our noble selves, the representatives of foreign nations, who you know are always at the head of every ceremony at least. The British ambassador was first presented. She recognized in him an old acquaintance (Heaven knows how far back!), and reminded him of the occasions on which they met. Her own ambassador, who returned from Paris with her, she soon despatched. Then came my turn; she had seen me not many months ago; hoped I liked my situation; asked after Gen. Wool (an officer sent out on some special errand by our Government last summer, who had been well received by the Court of France, and had afterwards visited Brussels with me, when I first came here), and so forth. In short, she addressed something appropriate to every individual in the circle, except the officers of the King's household, and all with that winning native grace so peculiar to a high-born and perfectly-bred Frenchwoman (by the by, she is an Italian, aunt of the Queen of Spain, who has been lately doing such fine things, and of the Duchess of Berry, who has been doing such naughty ones). The Grand-Marshal then announced to their majesties that dinner was served. They led the way into the banqueting hall (in the grand apartments, as they are called), as they had come into the salle de reception, except that this time the English Ambassador, as head of the diplomatic body (by seniority), gave his arm to the Princess Mary. As I had the third choice, I took the prettiest of our Queen's ladies, and I think the very prettiest woman in all Belgium, although she Hugh S. Legaré to his Sisters-Visit of the Queen of France to Brussels. has three children married, one a daughter almost as old as herself. I was petrified with surprise when I found out the age of my favorite, whom I did not suspect of so many years, almost by half. But that discovery I had made long before this meeting, and I chose her with my eyes open and very deliberately. The lady in question is the Baronne d'Hoogvorst. She was dressed that day in very becoming style, and looked like a blooming wife of thirty. In Europe, you know, that is not old. At table, the fashion in Europe is not like yours-for the master of the house to sit at one end, and the mistress at the other. The place of honor is at the side, and at the middle of the board. When I dined at Neuille, the Queen sat on one side, and the King opposite to her on the other; but Leopold and Louise are inseparable, at least at dinner, and, judging from their most amiable characters and affectionate dispositions, I should suppose everywhere else. The grand marshal of the palace here always takes his place opposite to their Majesties. And so it was on this occasion. On the right of the King sat the Queen of the French, on her right the Queen of the Belgians, next to her the Duke of Orleans, next the Duchess d'Arenberg, next Count de Latour Maubourg, and on the left of the King was the Princess Marie, next the English ambassador, and the grand marshal had on his right the lady of honor handed in by the Duke d'Arenberg, on whose right sat the Duke himself; on the left was Madame d'Hoogvorst, and next to her your humble servant, so that I sat immediately opposite to the Queen of the Belgians, whose sweet, modest face I am never tired of looking upon. The dinner was served with the highest magnificence of the Court, the crowd of servants in waiting being decked out in their most showy liveries (scarlet and gold for some, while others Hugh S. Legaré to his Sisters-Visit of the Queen of France to Brussels. wore a more modest uniform, with swords at their sides), and the table itself covered with gold and silver, and at the dessert with Sèvres china. This last, which is the most beautiful painted china, manufactured near Paris, at a cost of near three hundred francs a plate, was a bridal present to the Queen from her father. A grand band of music played the most fashionable and admired pieces of the great German and Italian masters, at intervals during the dinner, which, in all other respects, went off just as Court dinners always do, with the gravest decorum; a conversation confined to two-with no variety except an occasional change from right to left, when one or the other of your neighbors, as it happens, is run out of small talk-and carried on, of course, in a sort of whisper. Certainly, however, it must be confessed that a vast table, covered with so much magnificence, and surrounded by ladies and gentlemen-the former sparkling with diamonds, the latter all in court embroidery-presents a very brilliant coup d'ail. I was never before so much struck with the effect of precious stones in a lady's toilette, as with the richly colored beams of light that glittered about the neck and head of the Duchess d'Arenberg, a very fine woman about thirty-five, who was arrayed in more than the glory of Solomon. The worst of a dinner at Court is that, after having got through the tedious formalities of the reception, and the execution (they endure a couple of hours or so), the whole company is marched back into the salle de reception, where coffee is served with liqueurs, and there are sometimes kept standing (for none but the ladies, who take their places at the Queen's round table after dinner, in the middle of the room, are allowed to sit), sometimes for another hour, or hour and a half. For me, whose habit is, and always has been, if possible, to stretch myself off at full length upon a |