In a grand garden in five acts
All in the best possible taste
Where the branches were exact
And all the flowers stood up straight,
A few wild clematis, quavery –
Poor pensive shoots – grew
Amongst the noble slavery
Of box, myrtles and yew.
There grew on the terrace nearby
(Full of statues of gods, rather neat)
A rose so aristocratic, oh my!
She had marble at her feet.
The rose at the clems fixed a stare
As Dame Rachel might look down in her way
At the young girls who were there
As the chorus in a Greek play.
These flowers, trembling, heads hanging,
At the mercy of the West wind blown,
Were rather like ladies-in-waiting
Around the Queen of April’s throne …
And I cried: O flowers dotted here and there
Next the rose in this lovely spot,
No, yours are not the minor roles
In the great theatre of God.
God’s work is in all we see,
The rose, in this fruitful text,
Has the opening line, maybe;
But ’tis the cornflower has the next.
…’
Victor Hugo was fascinated by Versailles and its formal garden. The Jardin du Luxembourg, in which Marius and Cosette do their courting, and which Hugo knew very well in his early years, had a similar history. Here such a garden is compared to a theatre, or a play (plays were often in five acts). Rachel was a celebrated actress, whose life is memorialised in the Musée de la Vie Romantique in Paris. Hugo delights in the thought that the humble and proletarian wild clematis might spoil the effect of these hyper-managed beds, clipped topiary, and terraces, as he has penetrated and dismantled the classical theatre and let in modernity, and as the monarchy – the absolute rule of which was epitomised by Louis XIV, creator of Versailles – was overturned by the people in the Revolution. Here the clematis represent one of Hugo’s favoured themes: ‘the power of the weak’.’