THE COMPANY AT BADEN.

Otago Witness, Issue 666, 3 September 1864, Page 2

THE COMPANY AT BADEN.

(FROM " BADEN VANITY FATE," IN THE

DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE,)

But then for the actors — who crowded thickly as flics — who swarm out of the cafe door — who are seen within, sitting in lazy perspective — who cluster round innumerable little white tables— who sip coffee leisurely, and cognac hurriedly, in a sort of sultanic fashion, and about whom flutter andchirp waiter insects, with white buzzing napkins— who walk up and down, the gay men -and women' of- Baden — who sit on chairs— who stand — who chatter — who listen to the music — who read newspapers — the .bright beau monde, in rich Tustling silks ' trailing three yards behind, in hats of every pattern — in cool, snowy linen coats arid trousers, without speck or fleck— in ?grey, ,in black, in yellow, in all tints — in lace, in diamonds, in pearis-j-the, _ noble,- the gentle, the simple — the' prince, due, pair, and milord — tlie m good, the foolish, and the bad — the sound steady English domestic pottery, and those delicate, exquisitely moulded bits of Sevres down from Paris — the wicked pate tendre, which must be held quite close to the eve to see that network of little fine cracks and speckles. In short, if the stage is fitting, never were there such actors. King Benazet has the showiest, most glittering, costly, and perhaps the wickedest troupe in the world ! Such costumes ! I say again. Beginning with the ladies' hats, of endless shapes, ingenious in their variety, from what is vulgarly known as the "porkpie" to the more fashionable waggoners-hat,s -hat, as it might be called; hats of straw, hats of velvet mauve, purple, black, and cobalt blue — ■with white ostrich feathers fluttering, and ■at times confined with a brooch of diamonds — hats tricornered, edged with swans' down, exactly what Mr Fechter wears in his picturesque Lagardere dress —hats, in shape like a boy's or commissionaire's cap, with a peak coming over the

eyes, and of blue or crimson velvet — hats of m hich an inventory would be wearisome. Diamonds at the ears, diamonds at the dress ; costly bracelets on the hand ; Brussels laces, plentiful, but too quiet. See these two ladies tripping down in mangles of white, richly embroidered all over with Chinese flowers, with a dress to match, with a Chinese border, and the dress looped up in festoons, to show a Chinese petticoat. Some have £ velvet spencers and white skirts. Some — and these are beginning to be tres fashionable — arc decorated with opera cloaks of Scotch plaids. Were there ever such marvellous freaks of dress ! Such bold, daring flights, both in color and pattern, in that jjrlare of. bright sun and broad noonday, skimming so close to the edge of theatrical effect, and almost bad taste, that we think the next instant all rumt topple over and be lost irretrievably ; but all is saved by the skilful Parisian charioteering, even in millinery, and we see how skilfully the modiste palette can be set with the most glaring colors and costly materials. Wonderfully fresh and cool seem these snowy white dresses, without speck or fleck, about as acceptable to the eye as would be at that moment a cool water-ice to the taste ; matched, too, with petticoat, boots, everything, as in a sort of uniform ; and set off in good contrast by a broad-brim-med black velvet hat. Infinitely bewil dering the varieties of these cool costumes — delicate greys, delicate saffrons, delicate "no-colors," as, Mr Carlyle would put it —things easily found, but set off with braiding and decoration as delicate and not quite so easily to be found. This is rather a bold coup, and at first sight makes us gasp a little— what seems to be a pair of Chinese ladies approaching, but what turns out to be loose, flowing robes, of a palish yellow, embroidered all over with gaudy wreaths of flowers, like a court waistcoat. Gorgeous silks — which seem golden opera cloaks — lace shawls of matchless Brussels — gold, diamonds, pearls ; these flit back and forward, and make up what seems a costly Eastern scarf, waving in the wind, and shot with threads of all colors and patterns. What shall be said to a " ca e quet" of pale cerulean blue velvet, set off in front with a diamond buckle ; or to a pale pink velvet boy's cap, with a small peak in front, and a round Mandarin button of diamonds. Broad yellow straw hats, set on as French women alone can set them on, and not made to furnish that rude, gardening, sunburnt association which the same article supplies when worn by our English sisters. I note, too, another device which chimes in excellently with the theatrical atmosphere of the place. From the little round hats hang short shreds of thick black veils in shape exactly like a mask— such a one as the suffering Elvira in Don Giovanni carries in her hand, and holds at times before her face. The effect here is excellent and piquant. Of what quality, however, are the Donna Elviras and Donna Annas, he would be a gaache, surly fellow, who would be rude enough to inquire. By-and-by, when faces and figures grow familiar, the most marvellous feature of the whole breaks in on us. All these Dryads and Hama-dryads are in a state of eternal change. Each shifts her dress as often as a leading lady in a grand spectacle at the F.orte St. Martin. Thus the lady in grey in the morning flashes out as the Woman in White of an afternoon on the grand, promenade, as the woman in black at dinner, and as the woman in gold or tinsel at night. - It must be one universal round of dressing, and the labour must indeed be prodigious. But that afternoon promenade, when Baden comes out to look at Baden, when Baden is gay, and dressed, and scented, i 3 the special occasion. Everything tends to that hour ; for that the whole morning is consumed in secret mysteries and preparations, (up in the higher chambers), into which we may not too curiously inquire. Threading their way through this glittering throng, carefully protected by . a Btout, ruddy guardian, we meet- our own English sisterhood, and someway feel a little ashamed. They look domestic, but sadly dingy by contrast. Tlie more elderly nave a strange housekeeper look, and their clothes seem faded. Even that unique article of complexion, for which we have a deserved and famous speciulite, fails them; for here are complexions and color (no matter how or whence procured) more brilliant than any ever freshened by the breezes of the pleasant downs of England. Perhaps it is as well; for our British flowers were not made to flourish in this corrupt atmosphere. Still there is a homage due to the society we are willing to accept, whatever be its quality 5 and we should be glad to see our countrywomen sustain the character of such taste as there is among us. Les3 excusable is the Briton proper — square, burly, jocund, loud of speech, and arrayed in a clumsy white hat, washed in many a shower, and the serviceable lounging coat, in which he has ranged many a mountain. He has even a complacent pride in his rags, as they may by a certain comparison be styled, and stupidly does not see what an affront he is offering

both to good manners and to the fastidious society in which he is moving. Nor has he skilly or tact enough to translate the strange ironical glances with which he is measured, or the pleasant 'trots, sparkling and frothing like champagne bubbles, as he passes by. But at night, when the grand event of the day ia over — when Baden has dined and the clatter and fluster of general table d'hote has past by— we go forth again, always in that one direction, and make for the promenade once more. From the great hotels streams forth the living contingent, now fed and " restored." It has grown dark, aud up and down through the fairy Baden palaces are twinkling lights and lanterns. All through the pastoral allees verts are sprinkled lamps. Lamps shine out in the windows of the Italian Opera side-scenes, and dots and flashes of light dance upon the rippling waters that flow between the little ivyclad quays. And far up at the Palace we see the bower opening, as it were, and the long perspective of the house ofgaming, its yellow columns lit by a long line of lights ; and here is the company gathered together again, and the music playing melodiously, and the cafe in brisk work ; and the waiters performing their own special ballet ; and the cigars all alight ; and the universal miscellany— whole world, " half world," fruit damaged and sound, l> peaches at three sous." Britons, French, Spanish, Italian, German — all yeasting and fermenting in one noisy, chattering mass. The green and gold kiosk, all ablaze with many muffed chandeliers, holds the band of some Prussian regiment, fifty or sixty strong. Most exquisite military music do they discourse — so full, so rich, so tuneful, so soft, so loud, and with that grand substantial crash, when the whole strength comes in, which we may despair of ever hearing among our English soldiery. They are now playing the famous duet from the " Huguenots" — singiug rather — with the right passion and expression. There is good reason for this selection, for there is now among the crowd, trudging it rather than walking, a little, quaint, well-shaved, smooth-cheeked, angular old man, who carries his head back on his shoulders, and keeps his hands joined behind him like Napoleon. He wears a high-collared, old-fashioned dress-coat, and in the daytime rides a donkey, and carries a shabby old green umbrella. Yet this irregularity of uniform is only the more fondly tolerated and encouraged, for the little old man is Meyerbeer — well known here— better at Spa— and upon whose grave the immortelles are now quite fresh. There is nothing of the vulgar Vauxhall association or idea, of the ten thousand additional amps. The lamps, indeed, are few, but j the whole has a sort of genuine fairyland look, with a tint of Bendermere and the Feast of Roses. The great cafe, directed by an artist of tremendous reputation from Paris, has its hundred guests within and without — within, in those glittering halls into which we can peep ; without, at those hundred little tables which are almost mixed up with those who walk. Every one who sits and sips, does so tranquilly, and with the repose of a Sultan. We are, indeed, all Sultans and Moslems, for no one gets angry or excited, or rages, but dreams life away. And there are chairs everywhere, and a crowd of chairs, as it were reserved seats, under M. Benazet's gaming portico (which joins the gaming cafe) and mammas and papas, and the little children in white, sit there quite happily, and enjoy the scene and listen to the music. Every one is . in ' spirits, and,' walking up and down, chatters and gesticulates to his neighbour. And here is the noble Prussian band striking in Wagner's Tannhauser, and large parties, mainly German, I suspect, gather round the illuminated kiosk, and applaud heartily.