Samuel Pepys to Mrs. Steward-Curions Wedding at Christ's Hospital. poor Biddy Noel has never been quite well since her last confinement. You may imagine we married women look very silly; we have nothing to excuse ourselves, but that it was done a great while ago, and we were very young when we did it. This is the general state of affairs; as to particulars, if you have any curiosity for things of that kind, you have nothing to do but to ask me questions, and they shall be answered to the best of my understanding; my time never being passed more agreeably than when I am doing something obliging to you; this is truth in spite of all the beaus, wits, and witlings in Great Britain.* M. W. M. III. CURIOUS WEDDING AT CHRIST'S HOSPITAL. Samuel Pepys to Mrs. Steward. September 20th, 1695. MADAM: You are very good, and pray continue so, by as many kind messages as you can, and notices of your health, such as the bearer brings you back my thanks for, and a thousand services. Here's a sad town, and God knows when it will be a better, our losses at sea making a very melancholy exchange at both ends of it; the gentlewomen of this, to say nothing of the other, sitting with their arms across, * This letter has been pronounced by an eminent critic the very best in Lady Montagu's collection. It is refreshing to turn from the picture it presents of female manners and morals in the courtly circles of that age, to the pure and simple home which is brought before us in the letters that follow, written at a somewhat earlier period by Lady Russell. The career of Lady Montagu furnishes abundant evidence that genius, beauty, rank, and fortune cannot confer happiness. Separated in fact from her husband, unfortunate in her child, her letters breathe a restless and unsatisfied spirit, and the finest verses she ever wrote contain an apology for suicide.-H. Samuel Pepys to Mrs. Steward-Curious Wedding at Christ's Hospital. without a yard of muslin in their shops to sell, while the ladies they tell me walk pensively by, without a shilling, I mean a good one, in their pockets to buy. One thing there is, indeed, that comes in my way as a governor to hear of, which carries a little mirth with it, and indeed is very odd. Two wealthy citizens are lately dead, and left their estates, one to a Blue-coat boy, and the other to a Blue-coat girl, in Christ's Hospital. The extraordinariness of which has led some of the magistrates to carry it on to a match, which is ended in a public wedding; he in his habit of blue satin, led by two of the girls, and she in blue, with an apron green and petticoat yellow, all of sarsnet, led by two of the boys of the house, through Cheapside to Guildhall Chapel, where they were married by the Dean of St. Paul's, she given by my Lord Mayor. The wedding dinner, it seems, was kept in the Hospital Hall, but the great day will be to-morrow, St. Matthew's; when so much I am sure of, my Lord Mayor will be there, and myself also have had a ticket of invitation thither, and if I can, will be there too; but for other particulars must refer you to my next, and so, dear madam, adieu, S. P. Bow bells are just now ringing dong, dong, but whether for this I cannot presently tell, but it is likely enough, for I have known them to ring upon much foolisher occasions, and lately too. Madame de Sévigné to Madame de Coulanges-A slip between Cup and Lip. IV. A SLIP BETWEEN CUP AND LIP, OR LOSS OF A ROYAL BRIDE. Madame de Sévigné to Madame de Coulanges.* PARIS, Monday, Dec. 15, 1670. I am going to tell you a thing the most astonishing, the most surprising, the most marvellous, the most miraculous, the most magnificent, the most confounding, the most unheard of, the most singular, the most extraordinary, the most incredible, the most unforeseen, the greatest, the least, the rarest, the most common, the most public, the most private till to-day, the most brilliant, the most enviable; in short, a thing of which there is but one example in past ages, and that not an exact one either; a thing that we cannot believe at Paris-how then will it gain credit at Lyons? a thing which makes everybody cry, "Lord have mercy upon us!" a thing which causes the greatest joy to Madame De Rohan and Madame De Hauterive; a thing, in fine, which is to happen on Sunday next, when those who are present will doubt the evidence of their senses; a thing which, though it is to be done on Sunday, yet perhaps will not be finished on Monday. I cannot bring myself to tell it you; guess what it is. I give you three times to do it in. What, not a word to throw at a dog? Well, then, I find I must tell you. Monsieur de Lauzun † is to be married next Sunday at the Louvre, to -, pray guess to whom! I give you four times to do it in, I give you six, I give you a hundred. Says Madame de Coulanges, "It is really very hard to guess; perhaps it is Madame de la *These letters have been taken from the American edition of Madame de Sévigné's Letters, a work prepared with admirable taste and judgment by Mrs. Hale. Antonius Nompar de Caumont, Marquis de Puiguilhem, afterwards Duke de Lauzun. Madame de Sévigné to Madame de Coulanges—A slip between Cup and Lip. "Why then it must cerYou have it not yet. Vallière." Indeed, madam, it is not. "It is Mademoiselle de Retz, then." No, nor she neither; you are extremely proviucial. "Lord bless me," say you, "what stupid wretches we are it is Mademoiselle de Colbert all the while." Nay, now you are still further from the mark. tainly be Mademoiselle de Crequy." Well, I find I must tell you at last. He is to be married next Sunday, at the Louvre, with the King's leave, to Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle de, Mademoiselle-guess, pray guess her name; he is to be married to Mademoiselle, the great Mademoiselle; Mademoiselle, daughter to the late Monsieur; Mademoiselle, grand-daughter of Henry the Fourth; Mademoiselle d'Eu; Mademoisellede Dombes; Mademoiselle de Montpensier; Mademoiselle d'Orleans; Mademoiselle, the King's cousingerman; Mademoiselle, destined to the throne; Mademoiselle, the only match in France that was worthy of Monsieur. What glorious matter for talk! If you should burst forth like a bedlamite, say we have told you a lie, that it is false, that we are making a jest of you, and that a pretty jest it is, without wit or invention; in short, if you abuse us, we shall think you quite in the right; for we have done just the same things ourselves. Farewell, you will find by the letters you receive this post, whether we tell you the truth or not. V. From the Same to the Same. PARIS, Friday, Dec. 19, 1670. What is called "falling from the clouds," happened last night at the Tuileries; but I must go further back. You have *Gaston of France, Duke of Orleans, brother to Louis XIII. Madame de Sévigné to Madame de Coulanges-A slip between Cup and Lip. already shared in the joy, the transport, the ecstacies of the Princess and her happy lover. It was just as I told you, the affair was made public on Monday. Tuesday was passed in talking, astonishment, and compliments. Wednesday, Mademoiselle made a deed of gift to Monsieur de Lauzun, investing him with certain titles, names, and dignities, necessary to be inserted in the marriage-contract, which was drawn up that day. She gave him then, till she could give him something better, four duchies; the first was that of Count d'Eu, which entitles him to rank as first peer of France; the Dukedom of Montpensier, which title he bore all that day; the Dukedom de Saint Fargeau, and the Dukedom de Châtellerault, the whole valued at twentytwo millions of livres. The contract was then drawn up, and he took the name of Montpensier. Thursday morning, which was yesterday, Mademoiselle was in expectation of the King's signing the contract, as he had said that he would do; but, about seven o'clock in the evening, the Queen, Monsieur, and several old dotards that were about him, had so persuaded his majesty that his reputation would suffer in this affair, that, sending for Mademoiselle and Monsieur de Lauzun, he announced to them, before the Prince, that he forbade them to think any further of this marriage. Monsieur de Lauzun received the prohibition with all the respect, submission, firmness, and, at the same time, despair, that could be expected in so great a reverse of fortune. As for Mademoiselle, she gave a loose to her feelings, and burst into tears, cries, lamentations, and the most violent expressions of grief; she keeps her bed all day long, and takes nothing within her lips but a little broth. What a fine dream is here! what a glorious subject for a tragedy or romance, but especially talking and reasoning eternally! This is what we do day and |