In 1910 we looked out this name in the best etymological French dictionary and found that it was admitted to the French Academy in 1762, as “pavillon ouvert de tous côtés”: and defined by Thévenot (contemporary) as “kioch ou divan qui est maintenu de huit grosses colonnes.”
On our first visit a dark-complexioned man, marked by smallpox, was sitting close to the kiosk; he wore a large dark cloak and a slouch hat.
Though we were assured in 1908 by a very good authority, that no gentleman now living at Versailles would wear a large cloak either in winter or summer, there might be nothing surprising in what we saw if the kiosk could be found. But considering that it is gone, it is historically interesting that we discovered in 1904 that there is one man in the story of Trianon who exactly suits the description.
Most of the intimate accounts of the period say that the Comte de Vaudreuil was a Creole and marked by smallpox.[20] He was at one time one of the Queen’s innermost circle of friends, but acted an enemy’s part in persuading her to gain the King’s permission for the acting of the politically dangerous play of _Le Mariage de Figaro_. The King had long refused to allow it, saying that it would cause the Bastille to be taken. The earlier version of the same play, _Le Barbier de Séville_,[21] was last acted at Trianon (August 19th, 1785), just at the beginning of the diamond necklace episode, when Vaudreuil took the part of Almaviva and was dressed for it in a large dark cloak and Spanish hat.
In 1908 we found out from Madame Éloffe’s Journal (the Queen’s modiste) that in 1789 the broad-brimmed hat had entirely displaced the three-cornered hat, and was generally fashionable; also that swords were no longer generally worn.[22]
Vaudreuil left the court of France amongst the first party of émigrés after the taking of the Bastille, July, 1789.
Though we were surprised when the second man, also dressed in a large cloak and hat, ran up to us and with extreme earnestness directed us to go to the right rather than to the left, yet we merely thought his manner very French; and as he said in the course of a rather long unintelligible sentence “cherchez la maison,” we imagined that he understood that we were looking for the house, and followed his direction. We noticed that he stood in front of a rock and seemed to come “either over, round, or through it.”