King, Ship, and Sword

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Lewries found good lodgings, a spacious appartement on the Rue Honorй, just a short stroll north of the Jardin des Tuileries and the Palais National and Palais de la Rйvolution. They found themselves a brace of English-speaking servants, a pleasant young fellow named Jules for him, and a dumpling of a girl named Marianne for Caroline. At Jules's suggestion, they engaged an English-speaking guide, too. Jean-Joseph, a very smooth customer and a veteran of the early Italian campaigns under the fabled Napoleon Bonaparte, led them to the best bank, where Lewrie exchanged a note-of-hand drawn on Coutts' in London, and his pound notes, for French currency, with a temporary account set up to cover their expected expenses. Then, with a programme of "sights" lined up by Jean-Joseph, they set off to experience Paris and its environs.

The Place de la Bastille, now an open space since the infamous old prison had been razed; the Faubourg du Temple, the Hфtel de Ville, and Notre Dame, of course, along with the Оles de la Citй, and the site of the Revolutionary Court and Palais de Justice. The Vieux Louvre of course, too, filled with artworks looted during many of Napoleon's famed campaigns. They did the Right Bank, all the grand churches and former palaces, the Champs-Йlysйes and Champs de Mars.

They did the Left Bank, cross the Pont Neuf; along the broad and impressive Quai d'Orsai and Quai de Voltaire, visited the Pantheon and the Cordeliers Convent, the Abbaye de St.-Germain-des-Prйs, the Luxembourg palace, and the massive Maison Nationale des Invalides. And every day-jaunt was interrupted with a fine meal at a restaurant, bistro, or cafй that Jean-Joseph just happened to know all about, and recommended highly.

There were carriage trips to Versailles, Argenteuil, and the bucolic splendour of St. Denis and Asniиres-sur-Seine, which Caroline thought the equal of the willowed, reeded banks of the upper Thames, replete with swans and cruising geese.

It was all so impressive, so romantic, did wonders for Caroline and the complete restoration of her wifely affection, for which Lewrie was more than thankful, that he could almost be glad they'd gone.

But for the stench, of course.

Firstly, there were the open sewers flowing with ordure, and the unidentifiable slop down the centre of some streets. Evidently, Parisians thought nothing of emptying their chamberpots out the nearest window, with but the sketchiest warning of "Garde а l'eau!" Even the Seine, a very pretty river, even in the bucolic stretches, was filled with foul… somethings, yet, to Lewrie's amazement, people actually fished it, and seemed happy with their catches!

Secondly, there were the Frogs themselves. Oh, perhaps some of the better sort might bathe weekly, and might even be so dainty as to launder their underclothes and wear fresh… on Sunday, at least, then not change 'til the next Saturday.

Admittedly, there were quite a few English who were "high"; the common folk, and his sailors, held that a fellow needed only three complete baths, with soap included, in their lives: at their birthing, the morning of their wedding, and bathed by others before their bodies were put in winding sheets and the grave! Yet… the French! Whew! Soap might be rare, but colognes, Hungary waters, and perfumes covered the lack… among the better sorts. Common Frenchmen, and Frenchwomen, could reek so badly that Lewrie was put in mind of a corpse's armpit.

"It is said, m'sieur," Jean-Joseph gaily imparted with a snicker "that when Bonaparte sailed from Egypt, he sent his wife, Josephine, letters by several ships, saying… 'I arrive. Do not bathe,' hawn hawn!"

"You know a good perfumery?" Lewrie asked him.

"La parfumerie, m'sieur, mais oui!" Jean-Joseph exclaimed. "You wish the finest scents and sachets in all the world, Madame Lewrie, I know the very place. But, per'aps m'sieur would find such shopping a tedium, non?"

"And a milliner's, a dressmaker's, a shoemaker's," Caroline happily ticked off on her lace-gloved fingers, "and perhaps a dry goods, a… uhm, les йtoffes, Jean? For fabrics before the dressmaker's?"

"But, of course, madame!" Jean-Joseph heartily agreed, "the very best of fashion artistes, the most impressive fabrics, from people whom I know are most skilled, and…," he intimated with a wink, "the final works can be had bon marchй… that is to say, inexpensively?"

Now, why do I get the feelin' we've fallen into the clutches of a French version of Clotworthy Chute? Lewrie had to ask himself; we've not seen "inexpensive" since we left Amiens!

"And it would not go amiss did you have a suit of clothes run up for yourself, Alan," Caroline suggested. "France sets the style for the entire world, after all. And, what you brought along їs a bit long in tooth by now," she said, giving him a chary looking-over.

"Uhm, perhaps," Lewrie allowed. In his teens, before his father had press-ganged him into the Navy (there'd been an inheritance from his mother's side, and Sir Hugo'd needed the money perishin' bad!), Lewrie's clothing tastes had run to the extreme "Macaroni" styles. But after better than half his life spent in uniform, what fashion sense he'd had had dulled to more sobre convention.

"Perhaps your maid, Marianne, and I can escort you to the shops, madame," Jean-Joseph spritely babbled on, "and for m'sieur, perhaps he can be guided by Jules, to whom I will impart the location of the most stylish tailor in all Paris, n'est-ce pas?"

"Uhm, that'd suit," Lewrie said with a shrug. "Suit? Ha?"

"M'sieur is so droll," Jean-Joseph all but simpered.

"Isn't he?" Caroline agreed with a roll of her eyes. "And on your separate jaunt, Alan, you might see about your swords."

"Aye. Call on our embassy, too," Lewrie said, with rising enthusiasm. To be frank about it, Lewrie by then had had his fill of museums, grand cathedrals, and art galleries, monuments to the Revolution and its brutalities, and, in point of fact, their unctuous guide, Jean-Joseph, as well. And he'd always despised being dragged along on feminine shopping trips. A full day on his own would be very welcome.

"M'sieur wishes a sword-smith?" Jean-Joseph enquired, a golden glint in his eyes at the thought of more spending with his recommended artisans.

"The British Embassy," Lewrie told him. "We do have one here, do we not? Now we're at peace?"

"There is, m'sieur," Jean-Joseph replied, looking a bit mystified. "I can instruct Jules to direct you there, as well."

"Very good, then," Lewrie decided. "Today or tomorrow, dear?"

"Tomorrow," Caroline said, "so I may spend the whole day at it."

"Per'aps, then… madame and m'sieur desire dinner? Quite by coincidence, there is an excellent restaurant nearby, and their food… magnifique!" Jean-Joseph enthused, kissing his fingers in the air.

"Lead on, then," Lewrie told him. "Lead on."