I THE STRANGER IN FRANCE OR, A TOUR FROM DEVONSHIRE TO PARIS. ILLUSTRATED BT ENGRAVINGS IN AQUA TINTA ^^ 0'.:. ^KETCHES, TAKEN ON THE SPOT, B Y JOHN CARR, Esq. LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, NO. 72, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD. SOLD ALSO BY W. HANNAFORD, TOTNES. Bri/er, Printer, Bridge Street, Black 'Friars. 1803. C33 GIFT OF PROFESSOR C.A.' XOFOID flLD MHOJ PREFACE. The little tour which gave birth to the following remarks, was taken immediately after the exchange of the ratifications of a peace, necessary, but not inglorious to my country, after a contest unexam.pled in its cause, calamity, extension, vicissitudes and glory; amidst a people who, under the influence of a political change, hitherto unparallelled, were to be' approached as an order of beings, exhibiting a moral and political form before but little known to them- selves and to the world, in the abrupt removal of habits and sentiments which had silently and un- interruptedly taken deep root in the soil of ages. During a separation of ten years, we have received very little account of this extraordinary people, which could be relied upon. Dissimilar sensations, excited by their principles and proceedings, ever partially and irregularly known, have depicted unaccorfilng representations of them, and, in the sequel, have exhibited rather a high-coloured, fanciful delineation, than a plain and faithful resemblance of the original. Many are the persons who have been thus misled. These fugitive sketches, in which an attempt is made to delineate, just as they occurred, those scenes A 2 which, MS PREFACE. which, to my mind at least, were new and interesting, were originally penned for the private perusal of those whom \ esteem ; and by their persuasion they are now offered tq the public eye. Amongst them I must be permitted to indulge in the pride and pleasure of enumerating William Hayley, esq. a name familiar and dear to every elegant and polished mind. Enlightened by his emendations, and supported by the cherishing spirit of his approval, I approach, with a more subdued apprehension, the tribunal of public opinion ; and to my friends I dedicate this humble result of a short relaxation from the duties of an anxious and laborious profession. If, by submitting to their wishes, I have erred, I have only to offer, that it is my first, and shall be my last offence. Totnes, August, 1802. JOHN CARR. S^ The engravings which accompany this work, are of sketches made on the spot by an untutored pencil, and are introduced for the purpose of illustration only. CONTENTS. CONTENTS. CHAPTER iP To7T Abbey. — Cap of Liberty. Anecdote of English Prejudice, •-— Fire Ships. — Southampton River. — Netley Abbey, page 1 . CHAPTER II. French Emigrants. — Scene on the Quay of Southampton. — Sail for Havre. — Aged French Priest. — Their respectable Conduct in Eng- land. — Their Gratitude. — Make IIlc Port of Havre. — Panic of the Emigrants. — Landing described. — Hdtel de la Paix. — Break- fast Knife. — Municipality. - - - - - p. 6. CHAPTER III. Passports procured. — Coins. — Town of Havre. — Carts. — Citoyen. — Honfleur. — Deserters. — Prefect de Marine. — Ville de Sandwich. ' — French Farmers. — Sir Sydney Srnith. — Catherine de Medicis. — ■ Light Houses. — Pafts. - - - - - - p. 20. CHAPTER IV. Cheap travelling to Paris. — Diligences. — French Postilions. — Spanish Postilions. — Norman Horses. — Bolbec. — : Natives of Caux. — Ivetot. — Beturn of Religion. — Santerre. — Jacobin. — The Mustard- pot. — National Property, - - - - - - p. 31. CHAPTER V. A female frenchfb. — Military and Civil Procession. — Madame G. — Tlie Review. — Mons. I' Abbe. — Bridge of Boats. — The Quay. — Exchange. — Theatre. — Rouen. — Cathedral. — St. Ouens. — Prince of JValdec. — Maid of Orleans, - - - - p. 40. First VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI, ■^ ■ ) First Consults Advertisement, — Something ridiculous. — Eggs, — Criminal Military Tribunal, — Frejich Female Confidence. — Town House. — Convent of Jesuits, — Guillotine.— Governor W . p. 50. CHAPTER Vn. Filial Piety. — St, Catharine's Mnnnt — Madame Phillope. — General Ruffms Trumpet. — Generosity. — Love Infectious. — Masons and Gardeners. p. 62. CHAPTER vnr. Early dinner. — Manfe. — Frost, — Duke de Sully. — Approach the Capital. — Norman Barrier. — Paris. — Hdtel de Roiiai. — Palais Royal p. 72. CHAPTER IX. French Reception. — Voltaire, — Restaurateur. — Consular Guard. - - Music. — Venetian Horses. — Gates of ike Palace. — Gardens of the Thuilleries. — • Statues. — The faithful Vase. — The Sabine Picture. — Monsieur Perregaux. — Marquis de Chatelet. — Madame Perrl- gaux. — Beaux and Belles of Paris, - - - - p. 79. CHAPTER X. Large Dogs. — A Plan for becoming quickly acquainted with Paris. — Pantheon. — Tombs of Voltaire and Rousseau. — Politeness of an Emigrant. — The Beauty of France. — Beauty evanescent. — Place de Carousel. • — Infernal Machine, — Fouche. — Seine. — Wasker- ivomen. — Fishenvomen, — Baths. - - - - p. 90. CHAPTER XI. David, — Place de la Concorde. — UEglise de Madeleine. — Print- shops. — Notre Dame. — Musemn or Palace of Arts. — Hall of Statues. — Laocoon.—Belvidere Apollo, — Socrates - p. 101. Bonaparte, — CONTENTS. Mi CHAPTER XII. Bonaparte, — Artillery. — Mr. Pitt. — Newspapers. — Archbishop of Paris. — Consular Colours. — Religion. — Consular Conversion. — Madame Bonaparte. — Cojisular Modesty. — Separate Beds. — A Country Scene. — Connubial Affection. — Female Bravery, p. 113, CHAPTRR XTII. Breakfast. — Warmth of French Expression. — Bustic Eloquence. — Curious Cause assigned for the late extraordinary Frost. — Madame R . — Paul I. — Tivoli, — Frescati, - - p. 128. CHAPTER XIV. -^ Convent of blue Nuns. — Duchesse de Biron. — The bloody Key. — Courts of Justice. — Public Library. — Gobelines. — Miss Lin- wood. — Garden of Plants. — French Accommodation. — Boot Cleaners. — Cat and Dog Shearers. — Monsieur S and Family. ----.---.p. 140. ' CHAPTER XV. Civility cf a Sentinel. — The Hall of the Legislative Assembly. — British House of Commons. — Captain Bergeret. — Tiie^ Temple. — Sir S^driey Smith's Escape. — Colonel Phillipeaux, ~~- •' - - p. 150. CHAPTER XVI. A fashionable Poem. — Frere Richart. — Religion. — Hdtel des Inva^ . tides. — Hall of Victoty. — Enemies^ Colours. — Sulky Appearance cf an English Jack and Ensign. — Indecorum. — The ^ea Cap- tain. — Military School. — Champ de Mars. — The Garden of Mousseaux,_ - - - - - - - - p. 163. CHAPTER XVII. Curious Method of raising Hay. — Lucien Bonaparte's Hdtel. — Opera. — Consular Box. — Madame Bonaparte's Box. — Feydeau Theatre. — vxn CONTENTS. Theatre. — Belle Viie.-^^Fersaillesi-^Vie Palace of (he Petit ^^Tfia^iwii^ ;^ The Groinids., '\K\'^ .^^ " ' " .^. P- ■^*^^- L - ..B^ .^v^^^~ CHAPtER. XVIII. Bonaparte* s Talents' in Finance, —-'Gdrrick and the Madman. — Palace of the Conservative Senate. — Process of transferring Oil Paintings from Wood to Canvas.— 'The Dinner Knife. — Com- modities. — Hall of the National Convention. ^- The Minister Tal- , leyrand's Levee. - - ^ ^^ ^^ ;^^ V^^t-AuS ^n^^^ t^soP' ^^S' ^ CHAPTER XIX. The College of the Deaf and Dumb. — Abbe Sicard. — Bagatelle. — Police. — Grand National Library. — Bonaparte's Review. — Tarn- bour Major of the Considar Begiment. — Restoration of Jirtillery Colours. -------_ p. 201. CM.; CHAPTER XX. . \ Ahbl Sieves. — Co?isular Procession to the Council Cha?7iber. — lOth of August, 1792. — Celerity of Mons. Fouche''s Information. — The two Lovers. — Cabinet of Mons. le Grand. — Self-prescribing Physician. — » ^, Bust of Robespierre. — His Lodgings. — Corn Hall. — Museum of French Monuments. — Revolutionary Agent. — - Lovers of married Women. - - - - - - - - - p. 214. CHAPTER XXr. ^ ,. ; Picturesque and Mechanical Theatre. ■ — Filtrating and purifying Vases. — English Jacobins. — A Farewell. — Messagerie. — MalMaison. — % Forest of Evreux. — Lower Normandy. — Caen. — Hon. T. Erskine. — A Ball. — The Keeper of the Sachristy of Notre Dame. — The two blind Beggars. — Ennui.— St. Lo. — Cherbourg. — England. p. 230. GENERAL REMARKS. - - _ - - p. ^52. '»* i»<: /y.ii>^;. .. THE ^;^E^mm'-^-z THE STRANGER IN FRANCE. CHAPTER I. Tvrr Abbcj/. — Cap of Liberty. — Anecdote of EnglJxh Prejudice. — . Fire Ships. — Southampton River, — Netley Abbey. It was a circumstance, which will be memorable with me, chap. as long as I live, and pleasant to my feelings, as often as I ^' recur to it, that part of my intended excursion to the Continent was performed in the last ship of war, which, after the formal confirmations of the peace, remained, of that vast naval arma- ment, which, from the heights of Torbay, for so many years, presented to the astonished and admiring eye, a spectacle at once of picturesque beauty, and national glory. It wao the last at- tendant in the train of retiring war. Under the charming roof of Torr Abbey, the residence of George Cary, esq., I passed a few days, until the Megasra was ready to sail for Portsmouth, to be paid off, the commander of which, captain Newhouse, very politely offered to convey my companion, captain W. Cary, and myself, to that port. In this beautiful spot, the gallant heroes of our navy have often found the severe and perilous duties of the boisterous ele- ment alleviated by attentions, which, in their splendid and cordial dis^pliiy, united an elegant taste to a noble spirit of hospitality. B In I. 2 TORR ABBEY. — CAP OF LIBERTY. CHAP. In the Harleian Tracts there is a short, but rather curious .account preserved of the sensation produced at the Abbey on the 5th of November, 1688, after the prince of Orange had entered the bay with his fleet, on their passage to Brixham, where he landed : — " The prince commanded captain M to search the lady "' Gary's house, at Torr Abbey, for arms and horses. The lady " entertaining them civilly, said her husband wajs gone to Ply^ *' mouth : they brought from thence some horses, and a few " arms, but gave no further disturbance to the lady or her " house." Throughout this embarrassing interview, the lady Gary ap- pears to have conducted herself with great temper, dignity and resolution, whilst, on the otlier hand, the chaplain of that day, whose opinions were not very favourable to the revolution, unlike his present amiable and enlightened successor *, left his lady in the midst of her perplexities, and fled. In the Abbey, 1 was mui!h plcast:d witli an interesting, though not very ornamental trophy of the glorious victory of Aboukir. The truckle heads of the masts of the Aquilon, a french ship of the line, which struck to the brave captain Lewis, in that ever memorable battle, were covered with the bonnet rouge ; one of these caps of liberty, surmounted with the british flag, has been committed to the care of the family, by that heroic commander, and now constitutes a temporary ornament of their dining- room, * Rev. John Halford. Kepe ANECDOTE OF ENGLISH PREJUDICES. — FIRE SHIPS* i Here we laid in provision for our little voyage, without, chap. however, feeling the same apprehension, which agitated the ^* mind of a fair damsel, in the service of a lady of rank who formerly resided in my neighbourhood, who, preparing to attend her mistress to the Continent, and having heard from the jolly historians of the kitchen, that the food in France was chiefly supplied by the croaking inhabitants of the green and stand inoj pnnl, rnntrlv^rl, very rarefully, to Carry over a piece of homebred pork, concealed in her workbag. Early in the morning after we set sail, we passed through the Needles, which saved us a very considerable circuitous sail round the southern side of the Isle of Wight, a passage which the late admiral Macbride first successfully attempted, for vessels of war, in a ship of the line. The vessel, in which we sailed, was a fireship; a costly instrument of destruction, which has never been applied during the recent war, and only once, and that unsuccessfully, during the preceding one. We hud several of them in commission, although they are confessedly of httle utility in these times, and from the immense stores of combustibles with which they Are charged, threaten only peril to the commander and his crew. We soon after dropped anchor, and proceeded to Portsmouth, in search of a packet for Havre-de-Grace. In the street, our trunks were seized by the customhouse officers, whilst con- veying to the inn, but after presenting our keys, and request- ing immediate search and restoration, they were returned to us without further annoyance. Finding that the masters of B 2 the.. 4 SOUTHAMPTON RIVER. — NETLEY ABBEY, CHAP, the iVcnch packets were undetermined when they should sail, ^' we resolved upon immediately leaving this celebrated seaport, and proceed hig by water to Southampton, distant about twenty- four miles; where, after a very unpleasant passage, from its blowing with considerable violence soon after we left Ports- mouth, we arrived, in a little wherry, about twelve o'clock at night, at the Vine inn, which is very conveniently situated for passengers by the packets. j^ji£i3:i^^^it^3tj ^ It will not be required of me, to attempt a minute descrip- tion of the Southampton river, at a time when I expected, with some reason, as I afterwards understood, to sink to the bottom of it. An observation very natural to persons in our situation pccurred to me all the way, viz. that the shores seemed to be too far distant from each other, and that had there been less water, the scenery would have been more delightful ; an ob- servation which, however, the next day confirmed, when it presented the safe and tranquil appearance of a mirror. , Finding that the packet for France was not likely to sail immediately, we hired a boat, and proceeded down the river, to view the beautiful ruins of Netley Abbey, in the great court of which we dined, under the shade of aged limest and amidst the flappings of its feathered and restless tenantry. As I am no great admirer of tedious details, I shall not attempt an antiquarian history of this delightful spot. I shall leave it to more circumstantial travellers, to enumerate the genealogies of the. worthies who occupied it at various eras, and to relate, like a monumental entablature, when, where, and how they lived and died ; it will be sufficient to observe, that NETLEY ABBEY, 5 that the site of this romantic abode was granted by Henry VIII, chap. in 1757, to a sir William Paulet, and that after having had ' many merry monks for its masters, who, no doubt, performed their matutinae laudes and nocturnjfi vigiUas with devout exact- ness ; that it is at length in the possession of Mr. Dance, who has a very fine and picturesque estate on thai bide of the river, of which these elegant ruins constitute the chief ornament. The church still exhibits a beautiful specimen of gothic archi- tecture, but its tottering remains will rapidly share the fate of AB^ the neighbouring pile, which time has prostrated on the earth, *'• and covered with his tliickest shade of ivy. ^i; Our watermen gave us a curious description of this place, 2tnd amused us not a little with their ridiculous anacronisms. ** I tell you what," said one of fhem, rontradlctlng the other, ** you are in the wrong. Bob, indeed you are wrong, don't ** mislead them gentlemen, that there Abbey is in the true *' roman style, and was built by a man they call , but " that's neither here nor there, I forget the name, however, its " a fine place, and universally allowed to be very old. I fre- " quently rows gentlefolks there, and picks up a great deal ** about it." .., ...^ On our return the tide was at its height, the sun was setting in great glory, the sky and water seemed blended ii) each other, * the same red rich tint reigned throughout, the vessels at anchor appeared suspended in the air, the spires of the churches were tipped with the golden ray; a scene of more beauty, richness, and tranquillity I never beheld, CHAP. Ti ^Mm& tmsim^ c II. biiil y>:n ffd.-mi^ h CHAPTER II. irlfpxh Off .odw , gliit'l^x' French Emigrants. — Scene on the Quay of Southampton, — Sail for Havre. — Aged Fretich Priest. — jyieir respectable Conduct in Eng- land. — Their Gratitude. — Make the Port of Havre. — Panic of the Emigrants. — Landing described. — Hotel de la Paix. — Break- i -» » V'»' fast Knife. — Municipality. ' . , CHAP. L/URING the whole of the second day after our arrival, the town of Southampton was in a bustle, occasioned by the flocking iii of a great number of french emigrants, who were returning to their own country, in consequence of a mild decree, which had been passed in their favour. The scene was truly interesting, and the sentiment which It cAvltcJ, Jclightful to \\\e. heart. ^ -A respectable cure, who dined in the same room with us at our inn, was observed to eat very liule; upon being pressed to en- large his meal, this amiable man said, with tears starting in his eyes, " Alas ! I have no appetite ; a very short time will bring *' me amongst the scenes of my nativity, my youth, and my ^* happiness, from which a remorseless revolution has parted me " for these ten long years ; I shall ask for those who are dear to *?' 'file, and find them for ever gone. Those wh 6 are left will '* fill my mind with the most afflicting descriptions; no, no, I " cannot eat, my good sif.**/'*^^'^' ^^'-^^"^ ^^'' About noon, they had deposited their baggage upon the quay, which formed a pile of aged portmanteaus, and battered trunks'. Parties remained to protect them, previous' to their embarkation. The sun was intensely hot, they were seated under the shade of old V' ; FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 1 old umbrellas, which looked as if they had been the companions cha?, of their banishment. r n hrn- vH ftupA ^ Their countenances appeared strongly marked with the pious character of resignation, over which were to be seen a sweetness, and corrected animation, which seemed to depict at once the soul's delight, of returning to its native home, planted wherever it may be, and the regret of leaving a nation, which, in the hour of flight and misery, had nobly enrolled them in the list of her own children, and had covered them with protection. .^ To the eternal honour of these unhappy, but excellent people, i[)p it said, that they have proved themselves worthy of being re- ceived in such a sanctuary. Our country has enjoyed the be- nefit of their unblemished morals, and their mild, polite, and unassuming manners, and wherever destiny has placed them, they have industriously relieved the national burden of their gupport by diffusing the knowledge of a language, which good pense, and common interest, should long gijjce have considered fts 4 valuable branch of education. Tp tliose of my friends, who exercise the sacred functions of religion, as established in this country, I need not offer an apo- logy, for paying an humble tribute of common justice to these good, and persecuted men ; who, from habit, pursue a mode of worship, a little differing in form, but terminating in the same great and glorious centre. The enlightened liberality of the british clergy will unite, in paying that homage to them, which they, in my presence, have often with enthusiasm, and rapture, offered up to the purity, and sanctity of their cha- racters. Many of them informed me, thaj they had received the # SCENE ON THE QUAY AT SOUTHAMPTON. CHAP, the most serviceable favours from our clergy, administered with ' equal delicacy, and munificence. Amongst these groups were some females, the wives and daugh- ters of toulonese merchants, who left their city when lord Hood abandoned that port. The politeness and attention, which were paid to them by the men, were truly pleasing. It was the good breeding of elegant habits, retaining all their softness in the midst of adversity, sweetened with the sympathy of mutual and similar sutiermgs. /; / .»'T r..i«, -^ They had finished their dinner, and were drinking their favourite beverage of coffee. Poor wanderers ! the water was scarcely turned brown with the few grains which remained of what they had purchased for their journey. I addressed them, by telling them, that I had the happiness of being a passenger with them, in the same vessel; they said they were fortunate to have in their company one of that nation, iWhich would be dear to them as long as they lived. A genteel middle aged woman offered to open a little parcel of fresh coffee, which they had purchased in the town for the voyage, and begged to make some for me. By her manner, she seemed to wish me' to consider it, more as the humble offering of gra- titude, than of politeness, or perhaps both were blended in the offer. In the afternoon, their baggage was searched by the revenue officers, who, on this occasion, exercised a liberal .genlleness, wliich gave but little trouble, and no pain. They who brought nothing into a country but the recollection of their miseries, were not very likely to carry much out of it, but ■ the remembrance of its generosity. SAIL FOR HAVRE, — AGED FRENCH PRIEST. :^ At seven o'clock in the evenino- we were all on board, and chap. sailed with a gentle breeze down the river: we carried with us a good stock of vegetables, which we procured fresh, from tte admirable market of Southampton. Upon going down into the cabin, I was struck, and at first shocked, with seeing a very ^g^d.man, stretched at his length upon pillows and clothes, placed on the floor, attended by t\yo clergymen, and some, women, who, in their attentions to this apparently dying old gentleman, seemed to have .forgotten their own comfortless situation, arising from so many persons being crowded in so small a space, for our numbers above and below amounted to sixty. Upon inquiry, they informed me, that the person whose appearance had so affected me, had been a clergyman of great repute and esteem at Havre, that be was then past the age of ninety five years, scarcely expected to survive our short voyage, but was anxious to breathe his last in his own country. They spoke of him, as a man who in other times, and in the fulness of his faculties, had often from his pulpit, struck with terror and contrition, the trembling souls of his auditors, by the force of his exalted eloquence; who had embellished the society in which he moved, with his elegant attainments; and who had relieved the unhappy, with an enlarged heart and muni- ficent hand — A mere mass of misery, and helpless infirmities, remained of all these noble qualities! ^During the early part of the night, we made but little way — behind, the dark shadowy line of land faded in mist; before VIS, the moon spread a stream of silver light upon the sea. The soft stillness of this repose of nature w^^\>ip^^i} ^ ^u\y by the Q rippling II. lb CONDUCT OF FRENCH EMIGRANTS. THEIR GRATtTUDE. CHAP, rippling of the light wave against the head and sides of the „ 1.' vessel, and by the whistling of the helmsman, who, with the helm between his knees, and his arms crossed, alternately watch- ing the compass and the sail, thus invoked the presence of the favouring breeze. J-eaving him, and some few of our unfortunate comrades, to whom the motion of the sea was more novel than gratifying, we descended into the steerage, (for our births in the cabin were completely occupied by females). As we were going down the ladder, the appearance of so many recumbent persons, faintly distinguishable by the light of a solitary taper, reminded us of a floating catacomb; here, crawling under a cot which con- tained two very corpulent priests, upon a spare cable, wrapt up in our own great ooiifc^ wp resigned ourselves to rest. j The next day, without having made much progress in our little voyage, we arose, and assembled round the companion, which formed our breakfast table; at dinner, we were enabled to spread ia handsome table of refreshments, to which v/e invited all our fellow passengers who were capable of partaking of them, many of whom were preparing to take theii" scanty meal, removed from us at the head of the vessel. For this little act of common civility, we were afterwards abundantly repaid, by the thank- fulness of all, and the serviceable attentions of some of our charming guests, when we landed; an instance of which I shall afterwards have occasion to mention. The wind slackened during the day, but in the evening it blew rather fresh, and about nine o'clock the next morning, after a night passed something in the same way as the former, we were awakened by MAKE THE PORT OF HAVRE. — PANIC OF THE EMIGRANTS. i| being informed that we were within in a league of Havre; news chap. by no means disagreeable, after the dead dulness of a sea calm. ' The appearance of the coast was high, rugged, and rocky ; to use a good marine expression, it looked ironbound all along shore. To the east, upon an elevated point of land, are two noble light houses, of very beautiful construction, which I shall have occasion to describe hereafter. * At some little distance, we saw considerable flights of wild ducks. The town and bason lie round the high western point from the lights, below which there is a fine pebbled beach. The quays are to the right and left within the pier, upon the latter of which there is a small round tower. It was not the intention of our packet captain to go within the pier, for the purpoeo o£ aarlng the pui L-uiichorage dues, which amount to eight pounds sterling, but a government boat came off, and ordered the vessel to hawl close up to the quay, an order which was given in rather a peremptory manner. Upon our turning the pier, we saw as we warped lip to the quay, an immense motley crowd, flocking down to view us. A panic ran throughout our poor fellow passen- gers. From the noise and confusion on shore, they expected that some recent revolution had occurred, and that they were upon the point of experiencing all the calamities, which they had before fled from; they looked pale and agitated upon each other, like a timid and terrified flock of sheep, when 'Suddenly approached by their natural enemy the wolf. It turned out, however, that mere curiosity, excited by the dis- play of english colours, had assembled this formidable rabble, c 2 M and 12 .n ;?/;.' LANDING DESCRIBED. CHAP, and that the order which we received from the government ^^' boat, was given for the purpose of compelling the captain to incur, and consequently to pay, the anchorage dues. In a moment we were beset by a parcel of men and boys, half naked, and in wooden shoes, who hallooing and ** sacre ^' dieuing" each other most unmercifully, began, without further ceremony, to seize upon every trunk within their reach* which they threw into their boats lying alongside. i By a well-timed rap upon the knuckles of one of these marine functionaries, we prevented our luggage from sharing the same fate. It turned out, tliat there was a competition for carrying our trunks on shore,, for the sake of an immodcr rate premium, which they expected to receive, and which occasioned our being assailed in this violpnt manner. Our ^ fellow-passengers were obliged to go on shore with these voci- ferous watermen, who had the impudence and inhumanity to charge them two livres each, for conveying them to the landing steps, a short distance of about fifty yards. Upon their landing, we were much pleased to observe that the people offered them neither violence nor insult. They were received with a sullen silence, and a lane was made for them to pass into the town. The poor old clergyman who had survived the passage, was left on board, in the care of two benevolent persons, until he eould be safely and comfortably conveyed on shore. We soon afterwards followed our fellow-passengers in the captain's boat, by which plan we afforded these extortioners a piece of salutary information, very necessary to be made known ta them, that although we were english, we were not to be im- l , ; posed LANDING DESCRIBED. 13 II, posed upon. I could not help thinking it rather unworthy of chap. our neighbours to exact from us such heavy port dues, when our english demands of a similar nature, are so very trifling. For such an import, a vessel of the republic, upon its arrival in any of the english ports, would only pay a few shillings. Perhaps this difference will be equalized in some shape, by the impending commercial treaty, otherwise, a considerable partial advantage will accrue to the french from their passage packets. Upon our landing, and entering the streets, I was a little struck with the appearance of the women, who were habited in a coarse red camlet jacket, with a high apron before, long flying lappets to their caps, and were mounted upon large heavy wooden shoes, upon each of which a worsted tuft was fixed, in rude imitation of a rose. The appearance and clatter of these sabots, as they are" called, leave upon the mind an im- pression of extreme poverty and wretchedness. ^ ?^ - They are, however, more favoured than the lower order of females in Scotland. Upon a brisk sprightly chamber- maid entering my room one day at an inn in Glasgow, I heard a sound which resembled the pattering of some web-footed bird, when in the act of climbing up the miry side of a pond. I looked down upon the feet of this bonny lassie, and found that their only covering was procured from the mud of the high street — adieu ! to the tender eulogies of the pastoral reed ! I have never thought of a shepherdess since with pleasure. 1 could not help observing the ease, dexterity, and swiftness, with which a single man conveyed all our luggage, which was 14* HOTEL DE LA PAIX. CHAP, was very heavy, to the custom-house, and aftervi^ards to the inn, ill a wheelbarrow, which differed from ours, only in being larger, and having two elastic handles of about nine feet long. At the custom-house, notwithstanding what the english papers have said of the conduct observed here, we were very civilly treated, our boxes were only just opened, and some of our packages were not examined at all. Away we had them whirled, to the Hotel de la Paix, the front of which looks upon the wet-dock, and Is embellished with a large board, upon which is recorded, in yellow characters, as usual, the superior advantages of this, house over every other hotel in Havre. Upon our arrival, we were ushered up a large dirty staircase into a lofty room, upon the first floor, all the , windows of which wero open, divided, as they always are in France, in the middle, like folding doors ; the floor was tiled, a deal table, some common rush chairs, two very fine pier glasses, and chandeliers to correspond, composed our modey furniture. I found it to be a good specimen of french inns, in general. We were followed by our hostess, the porter, two cooks, with caps on their heads, which had once been white, and large knives in their hands, who were succeeded by two chamber-maids, all looking in the greatest hurry and confusion, and all talking together, with a velocity, and vehe- mence, which rendered the faculty of hearing almost a mis- fortune. They appeared highly delighted to see us, talked of our dress, sir Sidney Smith, the blockade, the noble english, the peace, and a train of etceteras. At length we obtained a little cessation, of which we immediately seized the advan- \ ' tage. BREAKFAST KNIFE. |5 tage, by directing them to show us to our bed-rooms, to pro- chap. cure abundance of water hot and cold, to get us a good ^^' breakfast as soon as possible, and to prepare a good dinner for us at four o'clock. Amidst a peal of tongues, this cla- morous procession retired. After we had performed our necessary ablutions, and had enjoyed the luxury of fresh linen, we sat down to some excellent coffee, accompanied with boiled milk, long, deli- cious rolls, and tolerably good butter, but found no knives upon the table ; which, by the by, every traveller in France is presumed to carry with him : having mislaid my own, I requested the maid to bring me one. The person of this damsel, would certainly have suffered by a comparison with those fragrant flowers, to which young poets resemble their beloved mistresses ; as soon as I had preferred my prayer, she very deliberately drew from her pocket a large clasp knife, which, after she had wiped on her apron, she pre- sented to me, with a ** voila monsieur." I received this dainty present, with every mark of due obligation, accompanied, at the same time, with a resolution not to use it, particularly as my companions (for we had two other english gentlemen with us) had directed her to bring some others ^o them. This delicate instrument was as savoury as its mistress, amongst the various fragrancies which it emitted, garlic seemed to have the mastery. About twelve o'clock we went to the hall of the munici- pality, to procure our passports for the interior, and found it crowded with people upon the same errand. We made our 1^ . MUNICIPALITY. CHAP, our way through them into a very handsome antiroom, "• and thence, by a little further perseverance, into an inner room, where the mayor and his officers were seated at a large table covered with green cloth. To show what reliance is to be placed upon the communications of english newspapers, I shall mention the following circumstance : my companion had left England, without a passport, owing to the repeated as- surances of both the ministerial and opposition prints, and also of a person high in administration, that none were necessary. ' *>iit v hf^n The first question propounded to us by the secretary was, •* citizens, where are your passports ?" I had furnished myself with one ; but upon hearing this question, I was determined not to produce it, from an apprehension that I should cover my friend, who had none, with suspicion, so we answered, jtliat in England they were not required of frenchmen, and that we had left our country with official assurances that; they would not be demanded of us here. They replied to us, by reading a decree, which rigorously required them of foreigners, entering upon the territories of the republic, and they assured us, that this regulation was at that moment reciprocal with every other power, and with England in particular. The decree of course closed the argument. We next addressed ourselves to their politeness (forgetting that the revolution had made sad inroads upon it) and requested them, as we had been misled, and had no other views of visiting the country, but those of pleasure, and im- provement, that they would be pleased to grant us our passports for MUNICIPALITY*; %f for the interior. To this address, these high authorities, who chap. seemed not much given to ** the melting mood," after making ^^' up a physiognomy, as severe, and ^s iron bound as their coast, laconically observed, that the laws of the republic must be enforced, that they should write to our embassador to know who we were, and that In the mean time they would make out our passports for the town, the barriers of which we were not to pass. Accordingly, a liule fat gentleman, in a black coat^ filled up these official instruments, which were copied into their books, and both signed by us; he then commenced our '* signalement," which is a regular descriptive portrait of the head of the person who has thus the honour of sitting to the municipal portrait painters of the departement de la Seine inferieure. jrfw c[ool<^ oi hmr—yr^^-j\\jii'j' ^rtTTtfM^v-^Tty*^ This portrait is intended, as will be immediately anticipated, to afford encreased facilities to all national guards, mar^chaussees, thief takers, &c. for placing in " durance vile" the unfortunate original, should he violate the laws. The signalement is added in the margin, to the passport, and also registered in the municipal records, which, from their size, appeared to contain a greater number of heads and faces, thus depicted, than any museum or gallery I ever beheldw (O How correct the likenesses in general are, I Jeave to the judgment of others, after I have informed them, that the hazle eyes of my friend were described " yeux bleu" in this mas- terly delineation? ''''-' ^'!*'**« \nv¥Vf\ >•» '.-hr-Tn ^^t rr-'f ' If the dead march in Saul had been playing before us all the way, we could not have marched more gravely, or rather ^^ '*'-*- ' D sulkilv. 18 MUNICIPALITY. CHAP, sulkily, to our inn. Before us, we had the heavy prospect ^^' of spending about ten days in this town, not very celebrated for either beauty, or cleanliness, until the municipality could receive an account of us, from our embassador, who knew no more of us than they did. The other english gentlemen were iii^the same predicament. • However we determined to pursue the old adage, that what is without remedy, should be without regret, and, english like, grew very merry over a good dinner, consisting of soups, and meat, and fowls, and fish, and vegetables (for such is the order of a french dinner) confectionary and a desert, accom- panied with good Burgundy, and excellent Champaign. Our misfortunes must plead our excuse, if the dinner is considered extravagant. Uncle Toby went to sleep when he. was uur happy ; we solicited consolation in another way. Our signale- ments afforded us much diversion, which at length was a little augmented by a plan which I mentioned, as likely to furnish us with the means of our liberation. After dinner I waited upon a young gentleman who was under the care of a very respectable merchant, to whom I had the good fortune to have letters of introduction. Through his means I was introduced to Mons.de la M '■, who received me with great polite- ness. In the hurry and occupations of very extensive com- mercial pursuits, this amiable old gentleman had found leisure to indulge himself in works of taste. His noble fortune enabled him to gratify his liberal inclinations. I found him seated in his compting-house, which, from Its handsome fur- niture and valuable paintings, resembled an elegant cabinet. I "v a stated MUNICIPALITY, 19 stated the conduct of the municipality towards us, and re- chap. quested his assistance. After he had shown me his apartments, ^^' a fine collection of drawings, by some of the first masters, and some more excellent paintings, we parted, with an as- surance that he would immediately wait upon the mayor, who was his friend, and had no doubt but that he should in the course of the next day enable us to leave Havre when and in what manner we pleased. With this agreeable piece of intelligence, I immediately returned to the inn, where it in- duced us to drink health and success to the friendly merchant in another bottle of champaign. ■ _^ ■di ^'iiii'^l i.y no ■> t'Mhv Q^>?|j'n(fto '>flT •.Til jW ^^•'*;fvr[ v/fit i; I .1 r ?.r ';ir^,-! = 'r ■1 - ' ? :iii^d:) jj 2 CHAP. III. ^M ... , . , ad 9ff! nv^eHAPTER III. Passports procured. — Coins. — Toivn of Havre. — Carts. — Citoyen. — Ilonjleur. — Deserters. — Prefect de Marine. — Vitle de Sandwich. "-"French Farmers. — Sir Sydney Smith. — Catherine de Media's.—^ Light Houses. — Rafts, bnu 4ailw mizti 37i?^i o) iu ^\u i-mn sdl to CHAP. IF Havre had been a Paradise, the feeUngs of restraint would have discoloured the magic scenery, and turned the green to on€ barren brown;i>i2^ ^^ ot eeeoo/f? f>rfs '^ As we could relish nothing, i;ntil we had procured our re- lease, the first place we visited the next morning was, once more, the residence of the municipality, where we found that our worthy friend had previously arranged every thitig to our wishes, and upon his signing a certificate, that we were peaceable citizens, and had no intention to overturn the re- public, our passports were made out, and upon an exchange of a little snuff, and a few bows, we retired. The other two eng- lishmen had their wishes gratified, by the same lucky incident, which had assisted us. Having changed our guineas for french money, and as in future, when money is mentioned, it will be in the currency of the country, it perhaps may not be un- acceptable to subjoin a table of the old, and new, and repub- lican coins. For every guinea of full weight, which we car- ried over, we received twenty-four livres, or a louls d'or, which is equal to twenty shillings sterling, of course we lost one shilling upon every good guinea, and more, ac- cording to the deficiency oi weight. The course of ex- vif.'i » 8 Q change COINS. 21 change and commission, with our country, I afterwards found chae. at Paris, to be one shilHng and eight pence, in the pound sterl- ^^^* ing, against us, but the difference will be progressively nearer '" par, as the accustomed relations of commerce resume their former habits. I was surprised to find the ancient monarchical coin in chief circulation, and that of the republic, very con- fined. Scarce a pecuniary transaction can occur, but the silent, and eloquent medallion of the unhappy monarch, seems to re- mind these bewildered people of his fate, and their past misfor- tunes. Although the country is poor, all their payments ar^ made In cash, this is owing to the shock given by the revolu- tion, to individual, and consequently to paper credit. To comprehend their money, it must be known, although the french always calculate by livres, as we do by pounds sterl* ing, that the livre is no coin, hni computation. . ; • -'-^^ -- :.u n^.- :\ '^..^. ->; ;;..,<. ^u^^i^','^ ^..A.nd\ fi.gife-i^il /. MONARCHICAL COINS. GOLD. A louis d'or is twenty-four livres french, or SILVER. A grand ecu, or six livre piece. An ecu, or three livre piece, - ' - - The vingt quatre sok piece, ---^M"^'^ id}i^ A douze sols piece is twelve pence french, or A six sols piece is 6d french, or - ^^r * , s, d. 20 0^ English. 5 2 6 1 6 3 COPPER ^ COINS, CHAP. COPPER MIXED WITH SILVER. ' '. III. A deux sols, or two pence french, and one penny english, is nearly the size of our sixpence, but isr copper, with a white or silverlsh mixture, twelve of tliese make a vingt quatre sols piece, or one shilling english.*'* '.' They have also another small piece of nearly the same size and colour, but not so white, and rather thinner, which is one sol and a half, three halfpence french, or three farthings endish. ^ iU ,100^1 &i ^^'iJmiaa ad: /' COPPER. ^jTj: ^,^ „;,.j i> A sol is like our halfpenny, value one penny french, or a halfpenny english, twenty-four of these make an english shilling. A deux Hard piece is half a sol french, or a farthing english. A liard is a farthing french, and of the value of half a farthing encflish. NEW COIN. A thirty sols piece, is a very beautiful and convenient coin, •worth one shilling and three pence english, having a good im- pression of the late king's head on one side, and the goddess of liberty on the other; it was struck in the early part of the revolution. .. J REPUBLICAN COIN. , d jy t'" SILVER. > A A fifteen sols piece is half of the above and very convenient. COPPER. III. TOWN OF HAVRE. 23 COPPER. via il3riHt««w ripiiiw chap, ' A six Hard is a bit of copper composrtron, such aS tlie fine cannon are made of, and is worth three sols french, or a half- penny, and a farthing english. ' ;'^-' .' . A cinq centimes is Worth a halfpenny and half a farthing english. The centimes are of the value of half farthings, five of which are equal to the last coin, they are very small and neat. An early knowledge of these coins, is very necessary to a stranger, on account of the dishonest advantages which french tradesmen take of tjbcir english customeis, ipiyi mii 'w^ ^i:ih(i .V\V ., To return to my narrative : finding ourselves at liberty to pursue our route, we went from the municipality to the bureau des diligences, and secured our places in the voiture to Rouen, tor the next day. .,>j^'/ocfit|t Mi^tiw v'l-'V.^ t^vii* -xiijrtiKi * After this necessary arrangement, we proceeded to view the town, which is composed of long and narrow streets. The fronts of the houses, which are lofty, are deformed by the spaces between the naked intersections of the frame work being filled up with mortar, which gives them an appearance of being very heavy, and very mean.-! Hi- ' ' rr : T r-- -rw The commerce formerly carried on at Havre, was very ex- tensive. There is here also large manufactories for lace. The theatre is very spacious, well arranged, and as far as we could judge by day-light, handsomely decorated. The players did not 24 1 CITOYEN, CHAP, not perform during our stay. In the vegetable market place, ^^^' whicli was much crowded, and large, we saw at this season of the year abundance of fine apples, as fresh in appearance as when they were first plucked from the tree. In our way there we were accosted by a little ragged beggar boy, who addressed himself to our compassionate dispositions, by the appellation of " tres charitable citoyen," but finding we gave nothing, he immediately changed it to " mon ch^re tr^s charitable monsieur." The strange uncouth expression of citoyen is generally laid aside, except amongst the immediate officers under government, in their official communications, who, however, renounce it in private, for the more civilized title of " monsieur." The principal church is a fine handsome building, and had been opened for worship, the Sunday before we arrived : On that day the bell of the Sabbath first sounded, during ten years of revolution, infidelity, and bloodshed!!! The royal arms are every where removed. They formerly constituted a very beautiful ornament over the door of the hotel of the present prefect, at the head of the market place, but they have been rudely beaten "out by battle axes, and replaced by rude republican emblems, which every where (I speak of them as a decoration) seem to disfigure the buildings which bear them. When I made this remark, I must, however, candidly confess, that my mind very cordially accompanied my eye, and that a natural sentiment mingled with the observation. The quays, piers, and arsenal are very fine, they, together with the docks, for small ships of war and merchandize, were con- structed DESERTERS. — SIR SIDNEY SMITH. 25 strijcted under the auspices of Lewis XIV, with whom this port chap. was a great favourite. ' We saw several groups of men at work in heavy chains. They were soldiers who had offended. They are dressed in red ydckQts . and trowsers, which are supposed to increase their disgrace, on ac- count of its being the regimental colour of their old enemy, the english. When my companion, w^ho wore his regimentals, passed them, they all moved their caps to him with great respect. - The town, and consequently the commerce of Rouen, w^as most successfully blockaded, for near four years, by britlsh commanders, during the late \var, and particularly by sir Sidney Smith. It was here, when endeavouring to eut out a vessel, which in point of value, and consideration w:as unworthy of such an exposure, that this great heroi and distinguished being was made a prisoner of war. The inhabitants, who never speak of him, but with emotions of terror, consider this event as the rash result of a wager conceived over wine. Those who know the character of sir Sidney, will not impute to him sueh an act of idle temerity. No doubt he considered the object, as included in his duty, and it is only to be lamented, that during two lin- gering years of rigorous, and cruel confinement, in the dun- geons of the unhappy sovereign, his country was bereaved of the assistances of her immortal champion, who, in a future season, upon the shores of Acre, so nobly filled up the gloomy chasm of suspended services, by exploits, which to be believed, must not be adequately described, and who revenged, by an act of un- rivalled glory, the long endurance of sufferings, and indignities- E hateful 2(5 SIR SIDNEY SMITH. CATHARINE DE MEDICIS. CHAP, hateful to the magnanimous sph'it of modern warfare, and un- ^"' known to it, until displayed within the walls of a prussiau dungeon*. I shall hereafter have occasion to mention this extraordinary character, when I speak of his escape from the Temple, the real circumstances attending which are but little known, and which I received from an authority upon which tlie reader may rely. This town is not unknown to history. At the celebrated siege of it, in the time of Catharine de Medicis, that execrable princess, distinguished herself by her personal intrepidity. It is said, that she landed here, in a galley, bearing the device of the sun, with these words in greek, " I bring light, and fine wea- ther" — a motto which ill corresponded with her conduct. With great courage, such as seldom associates with cruel, and ferocious tyrants, she here on horseback, at the head of her army, exposed herself to the fire of the cannon, like the most veteran soldiers, and betrayed no symptoms of fear, although the bullets flew about her in all directions. When desired by the duke of Guise, and the constable de Montmorenci not to expose her person so much, the brave, but sanguinary Catharine replied, .*' Have I not more to lose than you, and do you think I have ." not as much courage r" The walk, through la ville de Sandwiche, to the light houses, which are about two miles from Havre, is very pleasing. The path lay through flax and clover fields. In this part of the country, the farmers practise an excellent plan of rural economy, 0:17/ . * The cruel imprisonment of la Fa}'ette is alluded to. i which PREFECT DE MARINE. -^ LIGHT HOUSES. 27 which is also used in Dorsetshire, and some few other counties, of chap. confining their cattle by a string to a spot of pasture, until they ]_ have completely cleared it. Upon the hill, ascending to the cliffs, are several very elegant chateaus and gardens, belonging to the principal inhabitants of. the town. Monsieur B , the prefect de marine, has a beautiful resi- dence here. We were accidentally stopping at his gate, which was open, to view the enchanting prospects, which it presented to us, when the polite owner observed us, and with that ami- ableness, and civility, which still distinguish the descendants of the ancient families of rank in France, of which he is one, re- quested us to enter, a^fl %valkecl with us rmind his grounds, which were disposed with great taste. He afterwards conducted us to his elegant house, and gave us dried fruit, and excellent burgundy, after which we walked round the village to the light houses. From him we learnt, that the farmers here, as in England, were very respectable, and had amassed considerable wealth during the war. The approach to the light houses, through a row of elms, is very pleasant ; they stand upon an immense high perpendicular cliff, and are lofty square buildings, composed of fine light brown free stone, the entrance is hand- some, over which there is a good room, containing four high windows, and a lodging room for the people, who have the care of the light, the glass chamber of which we reached, after as- cending to a considerable height, by a curious spiral stone stair case. The lantern is composed, of ninety immense reflecting lamps, which are capable of being raised or depressed with great E 2- ease III. CHAP, ease by means of an iron windlass. This large lustre, is sur-- rounded with plates of the thickest french glass, fixed in squares of iron, and discharges a prodigious light, in dark nights. A furnace of coal, was formerly used, hut this has been judi- ciously superseded by the present invention. Round the lan- tern, is a gallery with an iron balustrade, the view from thisr elevation upon the beach, the entrance of the Seine, Honfleur (where our Henry III is said to have fought the freqch armies; and to have distinguished himself by his valour) the distant hilia- of Lower Normandy, and the oceaii, is truly grand. It brought to my mind that beautiful description of Shakspearc — -The miirmurinff surge That on th' unnumbered idle pebbles chafes. Cannot be- heard so high: I'll look no more. Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. We did not visit the other tower, as it was uniform with this. The woman who has the charge of the light, was very good humoured, and very talkative, she seemed delighted to show us every thing, and said she preferred seeing englishmen 2?i her tower as friends, to the view she frequently had of them from it as enemies, alluding to the long, and masterly blockade of diis port by a squadron of english frigates. She carried us to her little museum, as she called it, where she had arranged, very neatly, a considerable collection of fossils, shells, and pe- trefactlons. Here she showed us with great animation, two british /RAFTS. — CARTS. ii9 british cannon balls, which during the blockade, had very nearly chap. rendered her husband and herself, as cold and as silent as any "^' pf the pctrefactions in her collection. ,In this little cabinet was her bed, where amidst the war of winds and waves, she told us she slept as sound as a consul. In the basins of Havre, we saw several rafts, once so much talked of, constructed for the real, or ostensible purpose of con- veying the invading legions of France, to the shores of Great Britain. I expected to have seen an immense floating platform, but the vessels which we saw, were made like brigs of an im- usual breadth, with two low masts. The sincerity of this pro- ject has been much disputed, but that the french government expended considerable sums upon the scheme, I have no doubt. I must not omit to mention, the admirable mode, which they have here, and in most parts of France, of constructing their carts. They are placed upon very high wheels, the load is generally arranged so as to create an equipoise, and is raised by an axle, fastened near the shafts. I was in- formed by a merchant, that a single horse can draw with ease thirty-six hundred weight, in one of these carts. These ani- mals have a formidable appearance, owing to a strange custom which the french have, of covering the collar, with an entire sheep's skin, which gives them the appearance of having an enormous shaggy mane. At night, we settled our bills which amounted to forty livres each. A considerable charge in this country, but we had lived well, and had not thought it worth our while, on so ECONOMICAL HINT. III. CHAP, on account of the probable shortness of our stay, to bar- gahi for our lodging, and board, a plan generally proper to be used by those, who mean to remain for some length, of time, in any place in France, CHAP* CHAPTER IV. Cheap travelling to Paris. — Diligences. — French Postilions. — Spanish Postilions. — Norman Horses. — Bolbec. — Natives of Cmix. — Ivetot. — Return of Religion. — Santerre. — Jacobin. — The Mustard- pot, — National Property. Before I proceed on my journey, I must beg leave to chap. present a very cheap mode of travelling to Paris, from Havre, ^^' to those who have more time at their command than I had. It was given to me by a respectable gentleman, and an old traveller. Sols. From Havre to Honfleur, by the passage-boat 10 From Honfleur to Pontaudemar, by land - - 3 From Pontaudemar to I^aboulUe - - - 3 From Labouille to Rouen, by water - - - 12 From Rouen to RoUeboise, by land - - • g From Rolleboise to Pontoise, by water - - 30 From Pontoise to Paris, by land - - - 30 This progress, however, is tedious and uncertain. At day-break we seated ourselves in the diligence. All the carriages of this description have the appearance of being the result of the earliest efforts in the art of coach building. A more uncouth clumsy machine can scarcely be imagined. In the front is a cabriolet fixed to the body of the coach, for the accommodation of three passengers, who are protected from the rain above, by the projecting roof of the coach, and in front. 32 DILIGENCES* CHAP, front by two heavy curtains of leather, well oiled, and smelling ' somewhat oft'ensively, fastened to the roof. The inside, which is capacious, and lofty, and will hold six people with great comfort, is lined with leather padded, and surrounded with little" pockets, in which the travellers deposit tlieir bread, snuff, night caps, and pocket handkerchiefs, which generally enjoy each others company in the same delicate depositary. From the roof depends a large net work, which is generally crouded with hats, swords,, and band boxes, the whole is convenient, and when all parties are seated and arranged, the accommo- dations are by no means unpleasant^ ; Upon the roof, on the outside, is the imperial, which is generally filled with six or seven persons more, and a heap of luggage, which latter also occupies the basket, a^nd generally presents a pile, half as high again as the coach, which is se- cured by ropes and chains, tightened by a large iron windlass, which also constitutes another appendage of this moving mass. The body of the carriage rests upon large thongs of leather, fastened to heavy blocks of wood, instead of springs, and the whole is drawn by seven horses. The three first are fastened to the cross bar, the rest are in pairs,, all in rope harness and tackling. The near horse of the three first* is mounted by the postilion, in. his great jack boots, which are always, placed, with much ceremony, like two tubs, on the right side of his Rosinantc, just before he ascends. These curious protectors of his legs, are composed of wood, and iron hoops,, softened within by stuffing, and give him all the dignity of riding in a pair of upright portmanteaus. With a long lash whip FRENCH POSTILIONS. 33 whip in his hand, a duty night cap and an old cocked hat upon chap. his head, hallooing alternately " a gauche, a droit," and a few '_^ Occasional sacre dieus, which seem always properly applied, and perfectly understood, the merry postilion drives along his cattle. I must not fail to do justice to the scientific skill with which he manages on horseback, his long and heavy coach whip; with this commanding instrument, he can reanimate by a touch, each halting muscle of his lagging animals, can cut off an annoying fly, and with the loud cracking of its thong, he announces, upon his entrance into a town, the ap- proach of his heavy, and clattering cavalcade. Each of these diligences is provided with a conducteur, who rides upon the imperial, and is responsible throughout the journey, for the comfort of the passengers and safety of the luggage. For his trouble the passenger pays him only thirty sols for himself, and fii'teen more for the different postillions, to be divided amongst them, for these the donor is thanked with a low bow, and many " bien obliges," in the name of himself and his contented comrades. / • - ..^v^^c i> *-.. io -/i,. v>.iJ Ui Our companions proved to be some of our old friends the emigrants, who had thrown aside their marine dishabille, and displayed the appearance of gentlemen. We were much pleased with again meeting each other. Their conversation upon the road was very interesting, it was filled with sincere regret for the afHictions of their country, and with expression* of love and gratitude towards the english. They told us man.y litde tales of politeness, and humanity which they had received from my coui)trymen in the various towns, where their destin.]j^ ■'^'■- F had S4 NORMAN HORSES. CHAP, had placed them. One displayed, with amiable pride, a snuff ^ • box, which he had received as a parting token of esteem, another a pocket book, and each was the bearer of some little affectionate proof of merit, good conductr or friendship. One of these geiitlemcn, the abb6 de I'H , whose face was full of expression, tinctured with much grief, and attendant indispostion, with a manner, and in a tone, which were truly affecting, concluded a little narrative of some kindness whicH he had received, by saying, " if the english and my country " are not friends, it shall not be for want of my prayers. I ' " fled from France without tears, for the preservation of my " life, but when I left England, I confess it,, I could not heljp ** shedding some." They did not disgrace the generous ahb^ — such a nation was worthy of such feelings.. Our horses were of the norman breed, small, stout, shorty and full of spirit, and to the honour of those who have the care of them, in excellent condition. I was surprised to see these litde animals running away with our cumbrous machine,, at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. We traced the desolating hand of the revolution as soon as we ascended the first hill. Our road lay through a charming country. Upon the sides of its acclivities, surrounded by the most romantic scenery of woods and corn fields, we saw ruined convents, and roofless village churches, through the shattered casements of which the wind had free admission. Ami^' We breakfasted at a neat town called Bolbec, seven leagues . from Havre, where we had excellent coffee, butter, and rolls. All J>rawn by XOm^t'. £xu .Sni/rar'Jt L-^rtfUed. hy T.A/sdiand' ^..^ ^^m-o-i^ ^^^yi'^^<^ <^ C^a/'^^^^^^. BOLBEC. — NATIVES OF CAUX. 35 AH the household of our inn looked clean, happy, and chapj sprightly. -'"* ' ^^* This is the principal town of the province of Caux, the women of which dress their heads in a very peculiar, and In my humble opinion, unbecoming manner. I made a hasty sketch of one of them who entered the yard of the inn with apples for sale. . > Such a promontory of cap and lace I never before beheld. ^ She Tiad been at a village marriage that morning, and was bedecked in all her finery. The people of this province are industrious and rioh, and consequently respectable. At the theatre at Rouen I afterwards saw, in one of the front boxes, a lady from this country, dressed after its fashion ; the effect was so singular that it immediately induced me to distinguisli her, from the rest of the aiidiciiucj but her appearance seemed to excite no curiosity with any other person. Our breakfast cost us each fifteen sous, to which may be added two sols more, for the maids, who waited upon us with cheerful smiles, and habited in the full cushvols costume, and which also entitled us to kisses and curtsies. I beg leave to oppose our breakfast charge to the rumours which prevailed in England, that this part of France was then in a state of famine. From this town, the road was beautifully lined with beech, chesnut, and apple trees. The rich yellow of the rape seed which overspread the siu'facc of many of the fields on each side, was very animating to the eye. From this vegetable the country people express oil, and of the pulp of it make cakes, which the norman horses will fatten upon. We had an early F 2 dinner 3G IVETOT. CHAP, dinner at Ivetot, five leagues distant from Bolbec. In ancient ' periods this miserable town was once the capital of a separate kingdom. In our dining room were three beds, or rather we dined in the bed room. I use the former expression out of compliment to the pride of our little host, who replied with some loftiness to one of our companions, who, upon entering the room, and seeing so many accommodations for repose, exclaimed, with the sharpness of appetite, " my good " host, we want to eat, and not to sleep;" gentlemen, ** said " our mortified little maitre d'hotel, this chamber is the dining ** room, and it is thought a very good one." From its ap- pearance I should have believed him, had he sworn that it was the state room of the palace of this ancient principality, of which this wretched town was once the capital. It re- minded nie of an anecdote related by an ancient english lady of fashion, when she first paid her respects to James I, soon after his accession to the crown of England. She mentions in her memoir, that his royal drawing room v^as so very dirty, that after the levee she was obliged to recur to her comb for relief. In plain truth, James I and his court were lousy. Our master of the house was both cook and waiter. Ajt dinner, amongst several other dishes, we had some stewed beef, I requested to be favoured with a little mustard, our host very solemnly replied, *• I am very sorry, citizen, but I have none, " if you had been fortunate enough to have bgen here about " three weeks since, you might have had some." It was more than I wished, so I ate my beef very contentedly without it. With our desert we had a species of cake called brioche, composed RETURN OF RELIGION. SANTERRE. - - 37 composed of egg, flour, and water ; it is in high estimation in chap. Trance. j *^4 j nfifxi Itilt ij^^jk] It was in this town only that I saw a specimen of that forlorn wretchedness and importunity, which have been said to constitute the general nuisance of this country. ,.,,,,., In the shop of a brazier here, was exposed, a new leaden crucitix, about two. feet and a half high, for sale ; it had been cast preparatory to the reinauguration of the archbishop of Rouen, which was to take place upon the nex.t Sunday week, in the great cathedral of that city. 4^^, ,^j,|,.,y ,^^^„ jo ^p^^y^D In consequence of the restoration of religion, the beggars, who have in general considerable cleverness, and know how to turn new circumstances to advantage, had just learnt a fresh mode of soliciting money, by repeating the Lord's Prayer in French and Latin. We were treated with this sort of im- portunate piety for near a mile, after we left Ivetot. I have before mentioned, that the barbarous jargon of the revolution is rapidly passing away. It is only here and there> that its slimy track remains. The time is not very distant when Frenchmen wished to be known by the name of Jacobins; it is now become an appellation of reproach, even amongst the surviving aborigines of the revolution. As an in- stance of it, a naval officer of rank and intelligence, who joined us at Ivetot,, informed us, that he had occasion, upon some matters of business, to meet Santerre a few days before ; that inhuman and vulgar revolutionist, who commanded the national guards when they surrounded the scaffold during the exe- cution of their monarch. In the course of their conversation, .'.i' uiH 1-. ., , Santerre, IV. 38 JACOBIN. -^NATIONAL PROPERTY. CHAP. Santerre, speaking of a third person, exclaimed, " I cannot bear that man ; he is a Jacobin.'* Let all true revolutionary republicans cry out. Bravo ! at this. This miscreant lives unnoticed, in a little village near Paris, upon a slender income, which he has made in trade, not in the trade of blood ; for it appears that Robespierre was not a very liberal patron of his servants. He kept his blood-hounds lean, and keen, and poorly fed them with the rankest oftal. After a dusty journey, through a very rich and picturesque country, of near eighty miles, we entered the beautiful boule* vards*of Rouen, about sevxn o*clock in the evening, which embowered us from the sun. Their shade was delicious. I think them finer than those of Paris. The noble elms, which compose them in four stately rows, arc all nearly of the same height. Judge of my surprise — Upon oui rapidly turning the corner of a street, as we entered the city, I suddenly found coach, horses and all, in the aisle of an ancient catholic church. The gates were closfed upon iisi and in( ' a^ riibment from the busy buzzing of the streets, we were translated into the silence of shattered tombs, and the gloom of cloisters: the only light which shone trpon iis, issued through fragments of "staiiied glass, and this apertures which were' formerly filled with if Oilllitiiili Dil^ viiii^ •■ i'^ h^\*t.KlU «i^/m i« fr«' kv ■'■i'Jri^l^* , ^' My surprise, howeVCr; M^'as soon quieted, by beitig informed, that this church, having devolved to the tiation afe its property, by force of a revolutionary decree, had been afterwards sold for stables, to one of the owners of the Souen diligences, /mota/i * Environs of a town, planted with stately trees. An STABLE. EXPENSE OF CARRIAGE. 59 An old unsaleable cabriolet occupied the place of the altar ; chap. and the horses were very quietly eating their oats in the ' sackisty ! ! / >i.iji iAai y At the Bureau, we paid twelve livres and a half for our places and luggage from Havre to this town. 1 b/in .0 nifilc^ »■ >q e, ju ^h^^ol "^oii^; J 1 hnti '•: ■■':■ ">? r{^oi(i.i ' ■' ■ ^ ^ ' -- >id^,io .-^ ■ _.Jff|i3q8 -^.-^'^ '-.^....-..K^. b'ii^vfii " "^ 5i.,r'---^ ■'"'[ ■ U.t^rfl 0t- ^mo«r>d !'ff ,Uw"t vl'':^')!qmoo^r;'// 9««i>il-^:>d i£»ll .^r?/ iioii ''' ^-''- ^ i itnaidoikjU ax; i4 bri^>" ;i >^^:>./3 i^'i ilti), '»gbol i'^'vruiti , ' o? ■ •■ ■ ' '- ^- CHAP. C, ,iOKtnnp.o ^'^ r' .VI CHAP. V. CHAPTER V. A female french, fib. — Military and Civil Procession, — Madame G. -*-, TJie Revietv. — Mons. VAbbe. — Bridge of Boats. — The 2iiay, Exchange. — Theatre. — Roiieji. — Cathedral. — St. Ouens. — Prince of Waldec. — Maid of Orleans. JTlAVING collected together all our luggage, and seen it safely lodged in a porter's wheelbarrow, Captain C. and I bade adieu to our fellow travellers, and to these solemn and unsuitable habitations of ostlers and horses, and proceeded through several narrow streets^ lined with lofty houses, the shops of which were all open, and the shopkeepers, chiefly women, looked respectable and sprightly, with gay bouquets in their bosoms, to the Hotel de TEurope"; it is a fine inn, to which we had been recommended at Havre, kept by Madame F , who, with much politeness, and many captivating movements, dressed ^-la-Grec, with immense golden earrings, approached us, and gave us a litde piece of information, not very pleasant to travellers somewhat discoloured by the dust of a long and sultry day's journey, who wanted comfortable rooms, fresh linen, a little coffee, and a good night's repose : her informa- tion was, that her house was completely full, but that she would send to an upholsterer to fit up two beds for us, in a very neat room, which she had just papered and furnished, opposite to the porter's lodge (all the great inns and respectable town- houses in France have great gates, and a porter's lodge, at the entrance.) A FEMALE FRENCH FJB. 4^ entrance.) As we wished to have three rooms, we told her, chap. we were friends of Messrs. G , (the principal merchants of ^' Rouen. She said, they were very amiahle men, and were pleased to send all the!?- friends to her house (a little french fib of Madame F 's, by the by, as will appear hereafter) ; and she was truly sorry that she could not accommodate us better. We looked into the room, which also looked into the street, was exposed to all its noise, and very small. So we made our bows to Madame F , and proceeded with our wheel- barrow to the Hotel de Poitiers — a rival house. It is situated ^ in the beautiful boulevards, which I have mentioned, and is part of a row of fine stonebuilt houses. Upon our ringing the bell, Madame P presented herself. We told her, we were just arrived at Rouen, that we had the honour of being known to Messrs. G , and should be happy to be placed under her roof, and wished to have two lodging rooms and a sitting room to ourselves. Madame P , who possessed that sort of good and generous heart, which nature, for its better pre- servation, had lodged in a comfortable envelope of comely plumpness, observed, that Messrs. G were gentlemen of great respectability, were her patrons, and always sent their friends to her house (a point upon which these rival dames were at issue, but the truth was with Madame P ) ; that she would do all in her power to make us happy ; but at present, on account of her house being very crowded, she could only offer us two bedrooms. We were too tired to think of any further peregrinations of discovery ; so we entered our bed- rooms, which, like most of the chambers in France, had brick G floors 42 PROCESSION. MADAME G. REVIEW. CHAP, floors without any carpetting ; they were, however, clean; and, ' after ordering a good fire in one of them (for the sudden and unusual frost, which, in the beginning of summer, committed so much ravage throughout Europe, commenced the day we had first the honour of seeing Madame P ) ; and, after enjoying tliose comforts which weary wanderers require, we mounted our lofty beds, and went to rest. The next day we presented our letter, and ourselves, to Madame G , the amiable mother of the gentlemen I have mentioned. She received us with great politeness, and imme- diately arranged a dinner party for us, for that day. It being rather early in the morning, we were admitted into her chamber, a common custom of receiving early visits in France. ^- About eleven o'clock we saw a splendid procession of all the military and civil authorities to the hotel * of the prefect,, which was opposite to our inn. The object of this cavalcade was to congratulate the arch- bishop of Rouen (who was then upon a visit to the prefect, until his own palace v^^as ready to receive him) on his elevation, to the see. *'This spectacle displayed the interference of God, in thus making the former enemies of his worship pay homage to his ministers, after a long reign of atheism and persecution. About twelve o'clock, which is the hour of piirade through- out the republic, we went to the Champ de Mars, and saw a review of the iiOtli regiment of chasseurs, under the com- '- * Hdtel, in France, means either an inn, or private house of consequence. mand V. THE REVIEW. MONS. L'abBE. 43 mand of generals St. Hiliare and Ruffin, who, as well as chap. the regiment, had particularly distinguished themselves at Marengo. The men were richly appointed, and in general well mounted. They ail wore mustachios. They were just arrived from Amiens, where, as a mark of honour, they had been quartered during the negotiation. The officers were superbly attired. St. Hiliare is a young man, and in person much resembles his patron and friend, the first consul ; and, they say, in abilities also. *""*5 Some of the horses werc of a dissimilar size and colour, which had a bad effect; but I was informed, upon making the re- mark, tliat they had lost many in battle, and had not had lime properly to replace them. They were all strong and fiery, and went through their evolutions with surprising- swiftness. ' * At dinner our party was very agreeable. Next to me sat a little abbe, who appeared to be in years, but full of vivacity, and seemed to be much esteemed by every person present. During the time of t err our (as the French emphatically call the gloomy reign of Robespierre) the blood of this good man, who, from his wealth, piety, and munificence, possessed considerable influence in Rouen, was sought after with keen pursuit. Madame G was the saviour of his life, by concealing himj previous to her own imprisonment, for two years, in different cellars, under her house, which she rendered as warm and as comfortable as circumstances, and the nature of the conceal- ment, would allow. In one of th^se cells of humane secresy, G 2 this 4:4f BRIDGE OF BOATS. CHAP, this woitliy man has often eaten his solitary and agitated meal, ' whilst the soldiers of the tyrant, who were quartered upon his protectress, were carousing in the kitchen immediately ahove him. Soon after our coffee, which, in this country, immediately succeeds the dinner, we went to view the bridge of boats-, so, celebrated in history. This curious structure was contrived by an augustine friar named Michael Bougeois; it is composed of timber, regularly paved, in squares which contain the stories, and is 1000* feet in length; it commences from the middle of the quay of Rouen, and reaches over to the Fauxbourg of St. Sever, and carries on the communication with the country which lies south of the city. It was begun in the year 1626, below it are the ruins of the fine bridge of 13 arches, built by the empress Maud, daughter of Henry I of England. This ingenious fabric rests upon 19 immense barges, which rise and fall with the flowing and subsiding of the tide. When vessels have occasion to pass it, a portion of the platform sufficient to admit their passage is raised, and rolled over the other part. In the winter, when any danger is apprehended from the large flakes of ice, which float down the river, Jhe whole is taken to pieces in an hour. The expense of keeping it in repair is estimated at 10000 livres, or 400 pounds sterling per annum, and is defrayed by government, it being the high- road to Picardy. Upon the whole, although this bridge is so much admired, I must confess it appeared to me a heavy per- * The french feet are to the engllsh as 1068 to 1000, formance. THE QUAY. — EXCHANGE. — THEATRE. > 45 formance, unsuitable to the wealth, and splendour of the city chap. of Rouen, and below the taste and ingenuity of modern times. ' A handsome light stone structure, with a centre arch covered with a drawbridge, for the passage of vessels of considerable burden, or a lofty flying iron bridge, would be less expensive, more safe, and much more ornamental. The view from this bridge up the Seine, upon the islands below mount St. Catharine, is quite enchanting. Upon the* quay, although it was Sunday, a vast number of people were dancing, drinking, and attending shows and lotteries. Here were people of various nations, parading up and down in the habits and dresses of their respective countries, which produced quite the effect of a masquerade. The river Seine is so deep at this place, that ships of three hundred tons burden are moored close to the quay, and make a very fine appearance. The exchange for the merchants is parallel with the centre of the quay, and is a long paved building of about 400 feet in length, open at top, having a handsome iron balustrade, and seats towards the Seine, and a high stone wall towards the town. Over all the great gates of the city, is written, in large cha- racters, *' Liberty, Equality, Humanity, Fraternity or Death :" the last two words have been painted over,, but are still faintly legible. In the evening we went to the frctich opera, which was very crowded. The boxes were adorned with genteel people, and many beautiful young women. The theatre is very large, elegant, and handsome, and the players were good. I was struck with the ridiculous antics, and gestures of the chef in the orchestra, a man 4(3 .'ir.T ' ROUEN. CATHEDRAL. CHAP, man whose office it is to beat time to the musicians. In the • ' ' municipality box which was in the centre, lined with green silk, ^nd gold, were two fine young women who appeared to be ladies of fashion, and consequence ; they were dressed after the antique, in an attire which, for lightness, and scantiness I never saw equalled, till I saw it surpassed at Paris. They apr peared to be clothed only in jewels, and a little muslin, very ♦gracefully disposed, the latter, to borrow a beautiful expression, had the appearance of " woven air." — From emotions of grati- tude, for the captivating display which they made, I could not help offering a few fervent wishes, that the light of the next day might find them preserved from the dreaded conse- quences of a very bitter cold night. Rouen, upon the whole, is a fine city, very large, and po- pulous. It was formerly the capital of the kingdom of Nor- mandy. It stands upon a plain, screened on three sides, by high, and picturesque mountains. It is near two leagues in compass, exclusive of the fauxbourgs of St. Severs, Cauchoise, Bouveul, Stv Hiliare, Martainville and Beauvisme. Its com- merce was very celebrated, and is returning with great rapidity. Most of the fine buildings in this city, and its environs are Anglo-Norman antiquities, and were founded by the English before they left Normandy. The cathedral is a grand, and awful pile of gothic archi- tecture, built by our William the Conqueror. It has two towers one of which, is surmounted by a wooden spire covered with lead, and is of the prodigious height of 395 french feet, the other is '236 feet high. I The .O"^ CATHEDRAL. ST. OUENS. 47 The additional wooden spire, and the inequality of the towers chap. produce rather an unfavourable effect. During the revolution, ' this august edifice was converted into a sulphur and gun- powder manufactory, by which impious prostitution, the pillars are defaced, and broken, and the whole is blackened, and dingy. The costly cenotaphs of white marble, enriched with va- luable ornaments containing the hearts of our Henry HI, and Richard I, kings of England, and dukes of Normandy, which were formerly placed on each side of the grand altarpiece, were removed during the revolution. The altarpiece is very fine. Grand preparations were making for the inauguration of the archbishop, which was to take - place the following Sunday. There were not many people at mass; those who were present, appeared to be chiefly com- posed of old women, and young children. Over the charity box fastened to one of the pillars was a board upon which was written in large letters " Hospices reconnoissance ct prosperit6 a rhomme genereux et sensible." I saw few people affected by this benedictory appeal. I next visited the church of St, Ouens, which is not so large- as the cathedral, but surpasses tiiat, and every other sacred edifice I ever beheld, in point of elegance. This graceful pile, has also had its share of sufferings, during the reign of revolutionary barbarism. Its chaste, and elegant pillars, have been violated by the smoke of sulphur and wood ; and in many places, present to the distressed eye, chasms, produced by massy forges, which were erected against them, for casting ball. The costly railing of brass, gilt, which 4S ST. OUENS. PRINCE OF WALDEC. CHAP, which half surrounded the altar, has been torn up, and melted ^* into cannon. The large circular stained window over the entrance called La Rose du Portail is very beautiful, and wholly unimpaired. The organs in all the churches are broken and useless. They experienced this fate, in consequence of their having been considered as fanatical instruments during the time of terrour. The fine organ of St. Ouens is in this pre- dicament, and will require much cost to repair it *. I cannot help admiring the good sense which in all the churches of France is displayed, by placing the organ upon a gallery over the grand entrance, by which the spectator has an uninterrupted view, and commands the whole length of the interior building. In the English cathedrals, it is always placed midway between the choir and church, by which, this desired effect is lost. — St. Ouens is now open for worship. In spite of all the devastations of atheistic Vandalism, this exquisite building, like the holy cause to which it is conse- crated, having withstood the assailing storm, and elevating its meek, but magnificent head above its enemies, is mildly ready to receive them into her bosom, still disfigured with the traces of blind and barbarous ferocity. Behind the altar, I met the celebrated prince of Waldec. He, who possessed of royal honours, and ample domains, re- volted in the day of battle, from his imperial master, and joined the victorious and pursuing foe. I beheld him in a shaded corner of one of the cloisters of St. Ouens, in poor attire, * The ornaments of the churches of England experienced a similar fate from the commissioners of the Long Parliament, in 1643. with THE MAID OF ORLEANS. 4P with an old umbrella under his arm, scantily provided for, chap. and scarcely noticed by his new friends. A melancholy, but ^' just example of the rewards due to treachery and desertion. I have described these churches only generally, it cannot be expected of mc to enter into an elaborate history of them, or of any other public edifices. The detail, if attempted, might prove dull, and is altogether incompatible with the limited time, and nature of my excursion. '" :i - - After we left St. Ouens, we visited the Square aux Vaux, where the celebrated heroine of Lorrain, Joan d'Arc, com- monly called the Maid of Orleans was cruelly burnt at the stake, for a pretended sorceress, but in fact to gratify the bar- barous revenge of the duke of Bedford, the then regent of France ; because after signal successes, she conducted her sovereign, Charles, in safety, to Rheims, where he was crowned, and obtained decisive victories over the English arms. We here saw the statue erected by the French, to the memory of this remarka-ble woman, which as an object of sculpture seems to possess yery little worthy of notice. Oil H CHAP. VI. rr- CHAPTER VI. Fh'st ConsuVs AdveiHisemsnt. — Something ridiculous. — Eggs, — » Criminal Military Tribunal. — French Female Confidence. — Town House. — Convent of Jesuits. — Guillotine. — Governor W . CHAP. UPON looking up against the corner wall of a street, sur- rounded by particoloured advertisements of quack medicines, wonderful cures, new invented essences, judgments of cassa- tion, rewards for robbers, and bills of the opera, I beheld Bonaparte's address to the people of France, to elect him first consul for life. I took it for granted that the Spanish proverb of " tell me with whom you are, and I will tell you what " you are," was not to be applied in this instance, on account of the company in which the Consular applicationy by a mere fortuitous coincidence, happened to be placed. A circumstance occurred at this time, respecting this election; which was rather ridiculous, and excited considerable mirth at Paris. Upon the first appearance of the election book of the first consul, in one of the departments, some wag, instead of subscribing his name, immediately under the title of the page, " shall Napoleone Bonaparte be first consul for life ?" wrote the following words, " I can't tell." This trifling affair affords rather a favourable impression of the mildness of that government, vi^hich could inspire sufficient confidence to hazard such a stroke of pleasantry. It reached Mai Maison with great speed, but is said to have occasioned EGGS. — CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. 5] no Other sensation there, than a little merriment. Carnot's chap. bold negative was a little talked of, but as it was solitary, it * was considered harmless. To the love of finery which the french still retain to a certain degree, 1 could alone attribute the gay appearance of the eggs in the market, upon which had been bestowed a very smart stain of lilac colour. The effect was so singular that I could not help noting it down. On the third day after our arrival in this city, we attended the trial of a man who belonged to one of the banditti which infest the country round this city. The court was held in the hall of the ancient parliament house, and was composed of three civil judges (one of whom presided) three military judges, and two citizens. The arrangements of the court, which v/as crowded, were excellent, and afforded uninterrupted accommodations to all its members, by separate doors and passages allotted to each, and also to the people, who were permitted to occupy the large area in front, which gradually rose from the last seats of the persons belonging to the court, and enabled every spectator to have a perfect view of the whole. Appropriate moral mottoes were inscribed in characters- of gold, upon the walls. The judges wore long laced bands, and robes of black, lined with light blue silk, with scarfs of blue and silver fringe, and sat upon an elevated semicircular bench, raised upon a flight of steps, placed in a large alcove, lined with tapestry. The secretaries, and subordinate officers were seated below them. On the left the prisoner was placed, without irons, in the custody of two gendarmes, formerly called marechauss^es, who had their long swords drawn. H 2 These CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. These soldiers have a very military appearance, and are a fine, and valuable body of men. I fear the respectable impression which I would wish to convey of them will suffer, when I inform my reader, that they are servants of the police^ and answer to our Bow-street runners. The swiftness with which they pursue, and apprehend offenders, is surprising. We were received with politeness, and conducted to a con- venient place for hearing, and seeing all that passed. The accusateur general who sat on the left, wore a costume similar to that of the judges, without the scarf. He opened the trial by relating the circumstances, and declaiming upon the enor- mity of the offence, by which it appeared that the prisoner stood charged with robbery, accompanied with breach of hospitality ; which, in that country, be the amount of the plunder ever so trifling, is at present capital. The address of the public accuser was very florid, and vehement, and attended by violent gestures, occasionally graceful. The pleaders of Normandy are considered as the most eloquent men in France, I have heard several of them, but they appear to me, to be too impassioned. Their motions in speaking frequently look like madness. He ransacked his language to furnish himselt with reproachful epithets against the miserable wretch by the side of him, who with his hands in his bosom appeared to listen to him, with great sang froid. The witnesses who were kept separate, previous to their giving their evidence, were numerous, and proved many robberies against him, attended with aggravated breaches of hospitality. The court entered into proofs of offences committed by the prisoner at different - * '- -vi . times. CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL, 53 times, and upon different persons. The women who gave chap. their testimony, exhibited a striking distinction between the ti- ^^' midity of english females, confronting the many eyes of a crowded court of justice, and the calm self possession with which the french ladies here delivered their unperturbed tes- timony. The charges were clearly proved, and the prisoner was called upon for his defence. Undismayed, and with all the practised hardihood of an Old Bailey felon, he calmly declared, that he purchased the pile of booty produced in the court, for sums of money, the amount of which, he did not then know, of persons he could not name, and in places which lie did not remen>ber. He had no advocate. The subject was next resumed, and closed by the official orator who opened it. The court retired, and the criminal was recon- ducted to the prison behind the hall. After an absence of about twenty minutes, a bell rang to announce the return of the judges, the prisoner entered now, escorted by a file of national guards, to hear his fate. The court then resumed its sitting. The president addressed the unhappy man, very briefly, recapitulated his offences, and read the decree of the republic upon them, by which he doomed him to lose his head at four o'clock that afternoon. -. ■■ . .- . •-'■ It was then ten minutes past one ! ! The face of this wretched being presented a fine subject for the pencil. His countenance was dark, marked, and melancholy ; over it was spread the sallow tint of long imprisonment His beard was unshorn, and he displayed an indifference to his fate, which not a little surprised me. He immediately retired, and upon his return ff4t CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. CHAP. return to his cell, a priest was sent for to prepare him for his * doom. At present, in the provinces, all criminal offences are tried ^ before military tribunals, qualified, as I have described this to be, by a mixture of civil judges and bourgeois. It is one of the peculiar characteristics of such tribunals, to order immediate punishment after conviction. In the pre- sent instance, the fate of the offender was well known, for his crimes were many, and manifest, and as the interval allowed by military courts between the sentence, and its ful- filment, is so very short, the administrators of the law had postponed his trial for five months from the period of his commitment, for the purpose of affording him an indulgent procrastination. This mode, although arising from merciful motives, is, I am aware, open to objection ; but it would be unfair to comment upon laws, which prevailed in times of revolution, and are permitted only to operate, until the fine fabric of french criminal jurisprudence, which is now con- structing, shall be presented to the people. To the honour of our country, and one of the greatest ornaments of the british bar, the honourable T. Erskine, in the year 1789, furnished the french, with some of these great principles of criminal law, which it was impossible to perfect during the long a?ra of convulsion, and instability which followed, and ' which will constitute a considerable part of that great, and humane code, which is about to be bestowed upon the nation, and which will, no doubt, prove to be one of the greatest blessings, which human wisdom can confer upon human weakness. Its TOWN HOUSE. 55 Its foundation is nearly similar to that of our own. The chap. great and enlightened genius whose name I have mentioned, ^^* has provided that the contumacy of one juryman shall not be able to force the opinion of the rest. After the court had broken up, I visited the town house, which, before the revolution, was the monastery of the bene- dictines, who, from what appeared of the remains of their establishment, must have been magnificently lodged, and well deserved during their existence, to bear the name of the blessed. The two grand staircases are very fine, and there is a noble garden behind. Upon entering the vestibule of the council chamber, formerly the refectory, I thought I was going behind the scenes of a theatre. It was nearly filled with allegorical banners, pasieboind and canvas arches of triumph, altars, emblems of liberty, and despotism, and all the scenic decorations suitable to the frenzied orgies of a republican f^te. Thank God ! they appeared to be tolerably well covered with dust and cobwebs. At the end of this noble room, seated upon a high pedestal, was the goddess of liberty, beautifully executed in marble. " Look at that sanguinary " prostitute," cried Mons. G , to me, pointing to the statue, " for years have we had liberty and bloodshed, tha?d ** Heaven ! we are now no longer free.'' Upon which, he wrote his name in the first consul's book, which Was here lying open, upon a table, for the purpose of receiving the suffrages of the department. The laconic irony, and manner of the speaker, afforded me a tolerably good display of the nature of the blessings conferred upon the french, by their late political philosophy. From S6 CONVENT OF JESUITS. CHAP. From this place I proceeded to the ci-devant convent of ^^* the Jesuits, built by one of the munificent dukes de Bourbon. It is a magnificent oblong stone building. In the centre of the court was a tree of liberty, v^hich, like almost all the other trees, dedicated to that goddess, which I saw, looked blighted, and sickly. I mention it as a fact, without alluding to any political sentiment whatever. It is a remark in frequent use in France, that the caps of liberty are without heads, and the trees of liberty without root. The poplar has been selected from all the other trees of the forest, for this distinguished honour, from a whimsical synonymy of its name with that of the people. In frencb, the poplar is called peuplier, and the word peuple signifies people. This fine building is now con^ verted into an university of learning, and the fine arts. From the number of the students, I should suppose the fashionable fervour of study had not as yet reached Rouen. The professor of philosophy, with great politeness sent a young man to show me the museum of pictures, for which purpose the church of the Jesuits, is at present used. There are several paint- ings in it, the only fine one, was a dying Jesus by Vandyke, which was exquisite. Upon my expressing my admiration, a young student near me said " oui monsieur c'est tr^s jolie." This misapplied remark, from an easy and natural combination of sound, could not fail of seeming a little singular as applied to such a subject, but every thing that pleases in France is tres jolie. From this painting, I was, by importunity, led to view the other parts of the collection, which were composed of large pictures, by french masters ; and so natural is local prejudice, every GUILLOTINE. 57 every where, that I was almost held down, before the works of chap. the best artists of Roueji, upon which, as I am at liberty heir, ^^' I shall beg to make no comment. In the students* room, below, were some paintings curious, ; and valuable only, from their great antiquity, and a few good copies by the pupils. A picture was pointed out to me as a very fine thing, the subject was a fat Httle cherub, with a full flowing wig, fiddling to St. Francis, who from his gloomy appearance seemed not to possess half the musical genius of a dancing bear. li Upon my return through the market place, I beheld the miserable wretch, at whose trial I was present in the morning, led out to execution. He was seated upon the bottom of a cart, stripped above to his shirt, which was folded back, his arms were pinioned close behind, and his hair was closely cropped, to prevent the stroke of the fatal knife from being impeded. A priest was seated in a chair beside him. As the object of my excursion was to contemplate the manners of the people, I summoned resolution to vievi^ this gloomy and painful spectacle, .which seemed to excite but little sensation in the market place, :where its petty traffic and concerns proceeded with their ac- customed activity, and the women at their stalls, which extended to the foot of the scaffold, appeared to be impressed only with the solicitude of selling their vegetables to the highest bidder. A small body of the national guards, and a few boys and idlers sur- rounded the fatal spot. The guillotine, painted red, was placed upon a scaffold, of about five feet high. As soon as the cri- minal ascended the upper step which led to it he mounted, by I the ;5B GUILLOTINE, t .CHAP. the direction of the executioner, a little board, like a shutter, ' raised upright to receive him, to which he was strapped, turned down flat, and run into a small ring of iron half opened and made to admit the neck, the top part of which was then closed upon it, a black leather curtain was placed before the head, from which a valve depended, which communicated to a tub, placed under the scaftbld to receive the blood, the executioner then touched a long thin iron rod, connected with the top of the instrument, and in a moment the axe descended, which wafr in the form of a square, cut diagonally, heavily charged. with lead. The executioner and his assistants placed the body in a shell, half filled with saw dust, which was almost com- pletely stained over with the brown blood of former executions j they then picked up the head, from a bag into which it had fallen, within the curtain, and having placed it in the same gloomy depository, lowered the whole down to the sex- tons, who covering it with a pall bore it off to the place of burial. The velocity of this mode of execution can alone recommend it. The pangs of death are passed almost in the same moment, which presents to the terrified eye of the sufferer the frightful apparatus of his disgraceful dissolution. It is a dreary subject to I discuss; but surely it is a matter of deep regret, that in England, criminals doomed to die, from the uncertain and lingering na- ture of their annihilation, are seen writhing in the convulsions of death during a period dreadful to think of. It is said, thaft at the late memorable execution of an african governor for murder, the miserable delinquent was beheld for Jiftem ??u- '^''i i wiies GOVERNOR W- » 59 Hides Struggling with the torments of his untimely fate ! chap. The guillotine is far preferable to the savage mode, formerly ^^' used in France, of breaking the criminal upon the wheel, and leaving him afterwards to perish in the most poignant agonies. .itd 'k> a finr; ^-i'Mir-i^t-i'f^ 'r^'irt ■_. f. tftlfi u.^^^km^^,,^ As I have alluded to the fate of governor W , I will con- clude this chapter by relating an anecdote of the terror and infatuation of guilt, displayed in the conduct of this wretched man, in the presefice of a friend of mine, from whom I received it — A few years before he suffered, fatigued with life, and pur- sued by poverty, and the frightful remembrance of his offences, then almost forgotten by the world, he left the south of France for Calais, with an intention of passing over to England, to offer himself up to its laws, not without the cherished hope that a lapse of twenty years had swept away all evidence of his guilt. . -Tnl i-^iun At the time of his arrival at this port town, the hotel in which Madame H was waiting for a packet to Dover was very crowded — the landlord requested of her, that she would be pleased to permit two gentlemen, who were going to England, to take some refreshment in her room ; these persons proved to be the unfortunate Brooks, a king's messenger, charged with important dispatches to his court, and governor W . 1 he latter was dressed like a decayed gentleman, and bore about him all the indications of his extreme condition. They had not been seated at the table long, before the latter in- formed the former, with evident marks of perturbation, that «U* 1 2 his * &0 , goverKoh XV- CHAP. his name was W , that having been charged in England * with offences, which, if true, subjected him to heavy punishment^ he was anxious to place himself at the disposal of its laws, and requested of him, as he was an english messenger, that he would consider him as his prisoner, and take charge of him. The messenger, who was much surprised by the application told him, that he could not upon such a representation take him into custody, unless he had an order from the duke of Portland's office to that effect, and that in order to obtain it, it would be proper for him to write his name, that it might be compared with his hand writing in the office of the secretary at war, which he offered to carry over with him. Governor W still pressed him to take him into custody, the messen- ger more strongly declined it, by informing him that he was the bearer of dispatches of great importance to his court, that he must immediately cross the Channel, and should hazard a pas- sage, although the weather looked lowering, in an open boat, as no packets had arrived, and that consequently it was alto- gether impossible to take him over, but again requested him to write his name, for the purpose already mentioned ; the governor consented, pens and paper were brought, but the hand of the murderer shook so dreadfully, that he could not ivrite it, and in an agony of mind, bordering upon frenzy, he rushed out of the room, and immediately left the town. The messenger entered the boat, and set sail ; a storm quickly followed, the boat sunk in sight of the pier, aad all on board but one of the watermen, perished ! ! ! The GOVERNOR W , 6i The great disposer of human destiny, in vindication of his chap. eternal justice, rescued the life of this infatuated delinquent from ' the waves, and from a sudden death, to resign him to the public and merited doom of the laws. -nUhUl i-'vl 'to i^j =; n? ,'■■ ■ j^ih '-li hA^^'ri ncni; i"'n -T o^!l "to -rfrv bf)iij/? -.-. '^ '-Mn . ,.^.. . ,,^ ,^ .-y tV rut.. ■'■•■■. MivMt '_ '. iii ii". :Mo ft: i r- [11 . .CHAP. s:r cr j-t. vjT . .IV VII. CHAPTER VIL Filial Pie fi/. — A^/f. Catharine's MguiiL — Madame Phillope. — General Riiffin^s Trumpet. — Generosity, — Love Infectious. — Masons and GardeViers, CHAP. J fjave before had occasion to mention the humane conduct of Madame G towards the persecuted abb6 ; she soon afterwards, with the principal ladies of the city, fell under the displeasure of Robespierre, and his agents. Their only crime was wealth, honourably acquired. A committee, composed of the most worthless people of Rouen, was formed, who, in the name of, and for the use of the nation, seized upon the valuable stock of Messrs. G , who were natives of France. In one night, by torchlight, their extensive warehouses were sacked, and all their stores were forcibly sold in the public market- place to the best bidder : the plundered merchants were paid the amount of the sale in assignats, in a paper currency which then bore an enormous discount, and shortly afterwards re- tained only the value of the paper upon which the national note was written. In short, in a few hours an honourable family, nobly allied, were despoiled of property to the amount of 25,000/. sterling. Other merchants shared the same fate. This act of robbery was followed by an act of cruelty. Madame G , the mother, who was born in England, and who mar- ried a French gentleman of large fortune, whom she survived, of a delicate frame and advanced in years, was committed to , ...iiy. prison. I^lLIAL PIETY. prison, where, with many other female sufferers, she was closely chap? confined for eleven months, during which time she was com- ^'^^' pclled to endure all sorts of privations. After the committee of rapine had settled their black account, and had remitted the guilty balance to their employers, the latter, in a letter of ** friendly collusion, and fraudulent familiarity," after passing a few revolutionary jokes upon what had occurred, observed that the G s seemed to bleed very freely, and that as it ► was likely they must have credit with many persons to a large amount, directed their obedient and active banditti to order tliese devoted gentlemen to draw, and to deliver to them, their draughts upon all such persons who stood indebted to their extensive concern. In the words of a celebrated orator *, " Though they had shaken the tree till nothing remained upon •* 4he leafless branches, yet a new flight was on the wing, to " Watch the first buddings of its prosperity, and to nip every " hope of future foliage and fruit." '^-,-f/^5^M m ^^i pi The G s expected this visit, and, by ah ingenious, and justified expedient, prevented their perdition from becoming decisive. A my^ * *^^\ ^ '» Soon after the gates of the prison were closed upon Madame G , her eldest son, a man of commanding person, and elo- quent address, in defiance of every friendly, and of every a^ctionate entreaty, flew to Paris. -n'>xii'-> /"<->• ■'- 1 " • It was in the evening of the last winter which beheld its snows crimsoned with revolutionary carnage, when he pre- * Vide SherkUn*6'or4lIon;jigainst Hastings upon tii^ Begum cfiaVge. ' sented 64f FILIAL PIETY. CHAP, sented himself, undismayed, before that committee, whose ^ • horrible nature will be better described by merely relating the names of its members, then sitting, than by the most ani- mated and elaborate delineations of all its deadly deeds of rapine and of blood. At a table, covered with green cloth, shabbily lighted, in one of the committee rooms of the national assembly, were seated Robespierre, Collot d'Herbois, Carnot, and David. They were occupied in filling up the lists for the permanent guillotine, erected very near them, in la Place de la Revolution, which the executioners were then clearing of its gore, and preparing for the next day's butchery. In this devoted capital more blood had, during that day, streamed upon the scaffold, than on any one day during the revolution. ,, The terrified inhabitants, in darkness, in remote recesses of their desolate houses, were silently offering up a prayer to the great God of Mercy to release them, in a way most suitable to his wisdom, from such scenes of deep dismay, and re- morseless slaughter. ^ ■ '' ^ Robespierre, as usual, was dressed with great neatness and gayety; the savage was generally scented, whilst his associates were habited, en Jacobin, in the squalid, filthy fashion of that era of the revolution, in the dress of blackguards. , Mr, G bowed, and addressed them very respectfully. " 1 am come, citizens, before you," said this amiable son, " to *' implore the release of my mother ; she is pining in the " prisons of Rouen, without having committed any offence ; " she is in years ; and if her confinement continues, her chil- " dren whose fortunes liaye been placed at the disposal of the b'>}fi'J8 " national /rv? FILIAL PIETY, .T« - 65 " national exigencies, will have to lament her death ; grant chap. ** the prayer of her son, restore, I conjure you, by all the ^ " rights of nature, rcstpre her to her afflicted family." Ro- bespierre looked obliquely at him, and with his accustomed sharpness, interrupted him from proceeding further, by ex- claiming, " what right have t/ou to appear before us, mls- ** creant ? you are an agent of Pitt and Cobourg (the then com-. ** mon phrase of reproach) you shall be sent to the guillo- _ .^ ** tine — Why arc you not at the frontiers ?" Monsieur G , unappalled, replied, " give me my mother, and I will be there *' to morrow, I am ready instantly to spill my blood, if it " must be the price of hcj' discharge." Robespierre, whose savage soul was occasionally moved by sights of heroic virtue, seemed impressed by this brave and unusual address. He paused, and after whispering a few words to his associates,; wrote the discharge, and handing It over to a soldier, for the successful petitioner, he fiercely told him to retire. ^,;,»^, U.Mr. G- instantly set out for Rouen, where, after a long, and severe journey, he arrived, exhausted with fatigue, and agitation of mind ; without refreshment, this excellent man flew to the gates of the prison, which contained his mother, and presented the discharge to the gaoler, who drily, with a brutal grin, informed him, that a trick jiad been played off upon him, that he had just received a counter order, which he held in his hand, and refused to release her ! ! ! . It turned out, that immediately after Mr. G had left the committee room, the relenting disposition, which he had :ii>-^-j - K momen- 66 ^ ST. Catharine's mount. CHAP, momentarily awakened in the barbarous breast of Robespierre, * had subsided. The generous sentiment was of a short, and sickly growth, and withered under the gloomy, fatal shade of his sanguinary nature. A chasseur had been dispatched with the counter- order, who passed the exulting, but deluded G on the road. A short time after this, and a few days before Madame G , and her unhappy companions were to have perished on the scaffold, the gates of their prison flew open, the world was released from a monster — Robespierre was no more. This interesting recital I received from one of the amiable sufferers, in our w^ay to St. Catharine's Mount. The story afforded a melancholy contrast to the rich and cheerful scenes about us. From the attic story of a lofty house, built under this ce- lebrated cliff, we ascended that part of it, which, upon the road to Paris, is only accessible in this manner. When we reached the top, the prospect was indeed superb ; on one side we traced for miles, the romantic meanders of the Seine, every where forming little islands of poplars ; before us, melting away in the horizon, were the blue mountains of Lower Normandy ; at their feet, a variegated display of meadows, forests, corn fields, and vineyards ; immediately below us, the city of Rouen, and its beautiful suburbs. This delicious, and expanded prospect, we enjoyed upon a seat erected near a little oratory, which is built upon the top of the mountain, resting. GENERAL RITFFIN's TRUMPET. '4^ resting, at one end, upon the pedestal of a cross, which, in chap. the times of the revokition, had been shattered and overturned. ^^^* From this place, before dinner, we proceeded to la Mon- tagne ; a wild and hilly country, lying opposite to St. Catha- rine's. Here we were overtaken by a storm, upon which, a cure, who had observed us from his little cottage, not far distant, and who had been very lately reinstated in the cure of the church, in the neighbouring village, came out to us, with an umbrella, and invited us to dinner. Upon our return to our inn, to dress, we were annoyed by a nuisance which had before frequently assailed us. I knew a man, who in a moment of ill humour, vented rather a revengeful wish that the next neighbour of his enemy might have a child, who was fond of a whistle and a dr?im ! A more insufferable nuisance was destined for us ; the person who lodged in the next room to mine, was a beginner (and a dull one too) upon the trumpet. It was general Ruffin, whom I have mentioned before, forcing from this brazen tube, sounds which certainly would have set a kennel of hounds in a cry of agony, and were almost cal- culated to disturb the repose of the dead. General Ruffin, in all other respects, was a very polite, and indeed a very quiet young man, and a brave warrior ; but in the display of his passion for music, I fear he mistook either his talent or his instrument. At one time we thought of inviting him to dine with us, that we might have a little respite, but after debating the matter well over, we conceived that to entertain an Italian hero, as he ought to be received by those who admire valour even in an enemy, was purchasing silence at a very advanced K 2 price. 68 ' MADAME PHILLOPE. CHAP. price, SO we submitted to the evil with that resignation which generally follows the incurable absence of a remedy. We now addressed ourselves to Madame P r — , to know how long the general had learned the trumpet, and whether his leisure hours were generally occupied in this way. Madame P. was, strange to tell, not very able to afford us much in- formation upon the subject. She was under the influence of love. The natural tranquillity of her disposition, was improved by the prospect of connubial happiness, which, although a widow, and touching the frontier of her eight and thirtieth year, she shortly expected to. receive from the son of a neigh- bouring architect, who was then a minor. In this blissful frame of mind, our fair hostess scarcely knew when the trumpet of general R sounded. Her soul was in harmony with all the world, and it was not in the power of the demon of discord, nor even of this annoying brazen tube, to disturb her. Afadame P well deserved to be blessed with such equa- nimity, and if she liked it, with such a lover, for she was a .generous and good creatuce^jfj "lo "^n i: qi gun - i^i A gentleman to vvhom I was afterwards introduced, when 4he revolution began to grow hot, fled with his lady and his ^ children into a foreign coimtry, where, upon the relics of a shattered fortunes he remained, imtil things wore a better aspect, and enabled him, with a prospect of safety, to return to his native country. In better times, upon his annual visits to a noble chateau, and large estates which he once possessed in this part of Normandy, he was accustomed to stop at the Hotel de Poitiers. His equipage \vas then splendid, and suitable , :: .1 ■ to MADAME PHILLOPE. 69 to Ilis affluent circumstances. Upon his return to France, chap. TT T T this gentleman, harassed by losses, and fatigued by sickness, ' arrived with his accomplished lady, and their elegant children, in a hired cabriole, at the gate of Madame P . As soon as their name was announced, the grateful hostess presented herself before them, and kissing the children, burst into tears of joy; when she had recovered herself, she addressed her old patron, by expressing her hopes, that he had amended his fortune abroad, and was now returning to enjoy himself in tranquillity at home. " Alas ! my good Madame P ," said this worthy gentleman, " we left our country, as you know, ** to save our lives, we have subsisted upon the remains of our *' fortune ever since, and have sustained heavy and cruel " losses; we have been taken prisoners upon our passage, and " are now returning to our home, if any is left to us, to solicit " some reparation for our sufferings. Times are altered, Madame ti p ^ you must not now consider me as formerly, when '^ I expended the gifts of Providence in a manner which I " hope was not altogether unworthy of the bounty which " showered tliem upon me, we must bow down to such dis- " pensations,. you see I am candid with you ; we are fatigued, '*■ and want refreshment, give us, my good landlady, a little *' plain dinner,, such as is suitable to our present condition." ;,.,. Madame P was so much affected, that she could make U.0 reply, and left the room,. . Immediately all the kitchen was in a busde, every pot and pan were placed in instant requisition, the chamber-maids were sent to the neighbouring confectioners for cakes, and the 70 GENEROSITY. LOVE INFECTIOUS. CHAP. the porter was dispatched all over the city for the choicest ' fruits. In a short time a noble dinner was served up to this unfortunate family, followed by confectionary, fruits, and bur- gundy. When the repast was over, Mons. O ordered his bill, and his cabriole to be got ready. Madame P entered, and in the most amiable manner requested him, as she had exceeded his orders, to consider the dinner as a little acknowledgement of her sense of his past favours ; money, though earnestly pressed upon her, she would not receive. The whole of this interesting party were moved to tears, by this little act of nature and generosity. When they entered their carriage, they found in it bouquets of flowers, and boxes of cakes for the little children. No doubt Madame P moved lighter that day, than she ever did in her life, and perhaps found the remembrance of her conduct upon the bccasion almost as exquisite as the hours of love, which she appeared most happily to enjoy, when we had the honour of being under her roof. Monsieur O could not help exhibiting much feeling, when he related this little event to me. I must not fail to mention that all the house seemed, for the moment, infected with the happy disease of the mistress. General Ruffin's x'alet de chambre was in love with Dorothee, our chamber- maid ; the porter was pining for a little black eyed grisette, who sold prints and pastry, in a stall opposite ; and the ostler was eternally quarrelling with the chef de cuisine, who repelled him from the kitchen, which, in the person of the assistant cook, a plump rosy norman girl, contained all the treasure of MASONS AND GARDENERS. 71 of his soul — love and negligence reigned throughout the house- chap. hold. We rang the bells, and sacre dieu'd, but all in vain, ^^^' we suffered great inconvenience, but tvho could be angry f In the course of our walks, and conversations, with the workmen, whom we met, we found that most of the masons, andt gardeners of Rouen, had fought in the memorable, bloody, and decisive battle of Marengo, at which it appears that a great part of the military of France, within four or five hun- dred miles of the capital, were present. The change they presented was worthy of observation ; we saw men sun- browned in campaigns, and enured to all the ferocity of war,, at the sound of peace assuming all the tranquil habits of in- genious industry, or rustic simplicity. Some of them were occupied in forming the shapeless stone into graceful em- bellishments for elegant houses, and others in disposing, with botanic taste, the fragrant parterre. After spending four very delightful days in this agreeable city, I bade adieu to my very worthy companion, captain W. C , whose intention it was to spend some time here, and those friends, from whom I had received great attention and hospitalities, and wishing the amiable Madame P many happy years, and receiving from her the same assurances of civility, about seven o'clock m the evening I seated myself in the diligence for Paris,, and in a comfortable corner of it> after we had passed the pav6, resigned myselt to sleep. •» ■■'■ f>?i ' •^*: ^/ir CHAP. 1, VIII. CHAPTER Vin. Early di?mer, — Mante, — Frost. — Duke de Sully. — Approach the ^ Capital. — NonnaJi Barrier. —Paris. — Ililtel de Rouen. — Palais r Royal. CHAP. J^i^ j^y break, the appearance of the country in all directions was delightful. The faint eastern blush of early morn, threw a mild, refreshing light over the moist and dew-dripping scenery. The spirit of our immortal bard, awaking from the bosom of nature, seemed to exclaim — iri'Jv Look love, what envious streaks 'vm -^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ severing clouds, in yonder east; Night's caudles are burnt out; and jocund Day ^. Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. About eight o'clock in the morning, we arrived at Mante, a picturesque town, built upon a fertile mountain, at the base of which the Seine flowed along, rippling against its many islands of beautiful poplars. At this hour, upon our alighting at the inn, we found a regular dinner ready, consisting of soups, meats, fowls, and confectionary. To the no small surprsie of the host, I expressed a wish to have some breakfast, and at length, after much difficulty, procured some coffee and rolls. ' The . . r.Ti*IAO 4lMt EARLY DINNER. Ijaua P3 The rest of the party, with great coniposurc, tucked their chap. napkins In the button lioles of their waistcoats, and applied them- ' selves to the good things before them, with very aetive address. What a happy race of people ! ready for every thing, and at all times ; they scarcely know the meaning of inconvenience. In the midst of dlfliculty, they find accommodation ; wdth them, every thing seems in harmony. After paying thirty sols for my repast, a charge which announced our approach to the capital, I walked on, and made my way to the bridge over ano- ther winding of the Seine, at the bottom of the town ; which is a light, and elegant structure. The houses along the sides of the river are handsome, and delightfully situated. The principal church is a fine gothic building, but is rapidly has- tening to decay ; some of its pinnacles are destroyed, and all its windows broken in. A small chapel, in the street opposite, which had an appear- ance of considerable elegance, was converted into a slaughter- house. Embosomed in woods, on the other side of the bridge, is a fine chateau, formerly belonging to the count d'Adhe- mar ; here, while enjoying the enchanting prospect about me, I heard the jingling approach of our heavy diligence, in which, having reseated myself, we proceeded upon a fine high road, through thick rows of walnut, cherry, mulberry, and apple trees, for several miles, on each side of which, were vineyards* upon whose promising vintage, the frost had committed sad devastation. For a vast extent, they appeared blackened and burnt up. It was said that France sustained a loss of two mil- lions sterling, by this unusual visitation, unmiy^/ .* ? ^at I, * ' In V4' DUKE DE SULLY. APPROACH THE CAPITAL. CHAP. In the course of our journey, I experienced in the conduct of ]_ one of our two female companions, an occurrence, alHed to that, which is related by Sterne, of Madame de Rambouillet, by which he very justly illustrates the happy ease, with which the french ladies prevent themselves from ever suffering by inconve- nient notions of delicacy. Hii t^vJluaSlib 'to j- ^ A few miles from Mante, on the borders of the Seine, we passed one of the venerable chateaus of the celebrated duke de Sully, the faithful, able, and upright minister, of Henry IV of France, one of those great geniuses, who only at distant aeras of time, are permitted to shine out amongst the race of men. Historians unite in observing that the duke performed all the duties of an active and upright minister, under a master, who exercised all the offices of a great and good king; after whose unhappy fate, this excellent man retired from the busy scenes of the world, and covered with time and honours expired in the eighty-second year of his age in the year 1641, at his castle of Villebon. The house is plain, and large. The grounds are disposed after the fashion of ancient times. As we approached the capital, the country looked very rich ahd luxuriant. We passed through the forest of St. Germains, where there is a noble palace, built upon a lofty mountain. The forest abounds with game, and formerly afforded the de- lights of the chase to the royal Nimrods of France. Its nu- merous green alleys are between two and three miles long, and in the form of radii unite in a centre. The forest and park extend to the barrier, through which, we immediately entered the town of SL Germains, distant from Paris about twelve miles, which .v>r$jiNORMAN BARRIER. s VI which is a large and populous place, and in former periods, chap. during the royal residence, was rich and flourishing, but having ^^^^* participated in the blessings^ of the revolution, presents an ap- pearance of considerable poverty, and squalid decay. Here we changed horses for the last post, and ran down a fine, broad paved, royal road through rows of stately elms, upon an in- clined plane, until the distant, and wide, but clear display of majestic domes, awful towers, and lofty spires, informed us that we approached the capital. I could not help comparing tlaem with their cloud-capped brethren of London, over whose dim-discovered heads, a floating mass of unhealthy smoke, for ever suspends its heavy length of gloom. Our carriage stopped at the Norman Barrier, which is the grand entrance to Paris, and here presents a magnificent prospect to the eye. The barrier is formed of two very large, and noble military stone lodges, having porticoes, on all sides, supported by massy doric pillars. These buildings were given to the nation, by the national assembly in the year 1792, and are separated from each other, by a range of iron gates, adorned with republican em- blems. Upon a gentle declivity ; through quadruple rows of elms, at the distance of a mile and a half, the gigantic statues of la Place d<^ la Concorde (ci-d«vant, de la Revolution) ap- pear ; beyond which, the gardens, and the palace of the Thuil- Icries, upon tlie centre tower of which, the tricoloured flag was waving, form the back scene of this splendid spectacle. Be- ipre we entered la Place ,de la Concorde, we passed on each side of us, the beautiful, and ilwourite walks of the parisians,^ called ks Champs ,Elys^es, and {ifterwards, on pur kft, the L 2 elegant I# PARIS. HOTEL DE ROUEN. CHAP, elegant palace of the Garde-meuble; where wo entered the VIII. . _•"'/ ' streets of Pans, and soon afterwards alighted at^ the bureau of the diligences; from wliich place, I took a fiacre (a hackney coach) and about six o'clock in the evening presented myself to the mistress of the hotel dc Rouen, for the women of France generally transact all the masculine duties of the house. To this; hotel I was recommended by Mes&rs. G— — , upon mention-* ing whose name, I was very politely shown up to a suite of pleasant apartments, consisting of an antiroom, bed-room, and dressing-room, the two latter were charmingly situated, the windows of which, looked out upon an agreeable garden belonging to the palace of the Louvre. For these rooms 1 paid the moderate price of three livrcs a day. Here, after enjoying those comforts which travellers after long journies, re-- quire, and a good dinner into the bargain," about nine o'clock at night I sallied out to the Palais Royal, a superb palace built by the late duke d'Orleans, who when he was erecting it, publickly boasted, that he would make it one of the greatest brothels m Europe, in which prediction he succeeded, to the full con- summation of his abominable wishes. This palace is now the property of the nation. The grand entrance is from the Rue St. Honori^, a long street, something resembling the Piccadilly of London, but destitute, like all the other streets of Paris, of that ample breadth, and paved footway, for the accommoda- tion of pedestrian passengers, which give such a decided superi- ority to the streets of the capital of England. After passing through two noble courts, I entered the piazza, of this amazing pile ; which is built of stone, upon arches, sup- i... ^ »i J k *i ported PALAIS ROYAL. ^ 7J. ported by corlnthian pilasters. Its form is an oblong square, CHAP^i with gardens, and walks in the centre. The whole is consi- ^^^' dered to be, about one thousand four hundred feet long, and three hundred feet broad. The finest shops of Paris for jewellery, watches, clocks, mantuamakers, restaurateurs*, china magazines, &c., form the back of the piazza, which on all the sides, of this immense fabric, affords a very line pro- menade. These shops once made a part of the speculation, of their mercenary, and abandoned master, to whom they each paid a rent after the rate of two or three hundred pounds sterling per annum. This place presents a scene of profligate voluptu- ousness, not to be equalled upon any spot in Europe. Women of character are almost afraid to appear here at noon day; and a stranger would conceive, that at night, he saw be- fore him, one third of the beauty of Paris. Under the roof of this palace are two theatres, museums of curiosities, the tribunate, gaming houses, billiard rooms, buil- lotte clubs, ball rooms, &c., all opening into the gardens, the windows of which threw, from their numerous lamps, and * lustres, a stream of gay and gaudy light upon the walks below, and afforded the appearance of a perpetual illumi- nation. At the bottom was a large pavilion, finely illumi- nated, in which were groups of people regaling themselves with lemonade, and ices. Upon this spot, in the early part of the revolution, the celebrated Camille Desmoulins used to declaim against the abuses of the old government, to all the * Restaurateur is now universally used instead of tralteur. idle Yin. 78 PALAIS ROYAL. CHAP. idle and disafiected of Paris. It is said that the liveries of the due d' Orleans gave birth to the republican colours, which used to be displayed in the hats of his auditors, who in point of respectability resembled the motley reformers of Chalk Farm. From the carousing rooms under ground, the ear was filled with the sounds of music, and the buzzing of crowds; in short, such a scene of midnight revelry and dissipation I never be- fore beheld. ' Upon my return to my hotel, I was a little surprised to, find the streets of this gay city so meanly lighted. Lamps placed at gloomy distances from each other, suspended by cords, from lofty poles, furnish the only means of directing the footsteps of the nocturnal wanderer. 0^: air- .1 /i ~ CHAP. CHAPTER IX. \yl. "^^^ French JReception. — Voltaire, — Restaurateur. — Consular Guard. — Music. — Venetian Horses. — Gates of the Palace. — Gardens of the Thuilleries. — Statues. — The faithful Vase. — The Sabine Picture. — Monsieur Perregaux. — Marquis de Chatelet, — Madame Perrh- gaux. — Beaux and Belles of Paris, I FORGOT, in my last chapter, to mention that I paid for chap. my place, and luggage in the diligence, from Rouen to Paris, ' a distance of ninety miles, twenty-three livres and eighteen sols. The next morning after my arrival, and a good night's repose in a soph a bed, constructed after the french fashion, which was very lofty, and handsome, and very comfortable, I w^aited upon my accomplished friend, Madame H , in the Rue Florentine. I had the honour of knowing her when in England, from very early years ; I found her with her ele- gant and accomplished daughter, in a suite of large rooms, very handsomely furnished after the antique, which gives to - the present fashionable furniture of France, its form and cha- racter. These rooms composed a floor of a noble stone built house, which contained several other families ; such is the customary mode of being lodged in the capital. She received me in the most channing manner, and had expected me for some days, previous to my arrival, and was that evening goin^ •to her country house at Passi, a few miles from Paris, whither she pressed me to accompany her, but I declined it, on • ' account \. 80 VOLTAIRE. RESTAURATEUR. CHAP. account of the sliort time which I had before mc to spend TV ' in Paris. Madame II was not only a beauty, but a woman of wit and learning, and had accordingly admitted Voltaire amongst the number of her household gods ; the arch old cynic, with his deathlike sarcastic face, admiralfly repre- sented, by a small whole length porcelain statue, occupied the centre of her chimney piece. Upon finding that I was disposed to remain in town, she recommended me to a restau- rateur, in the gardens of the Thuilleries, one of the first eating ,«{; houses in Paris, for society, and entertainment, to the master of which she sent her servant, with my name, to infprm him, that she had recommended an english gentleman of her ac- quaintance to his house, and requested that an english servant in his service might attend to me, when I dined there. This was a little valuable civility, truly french. This house has been lately built under the auspices of the first consul, from a design, approved of by his own exquisite taste ; he has per- mitted the entrance to open into the gardens of the consular palace. The whole is from a model of one of the little pa- laces of the Herculaneum, it is upon a small scale, built of a fine white stone, it contains a centre, with a portico, supported by doric pillars, and two long wings. The front is upon the terrace of the gardens, and commands an enchanting view of all its beautiful walks and statues. On the ground floor the house is divided into three long and spacious apartments, opening into each other through centre arches, and which are redoubled upon the view by immense pier glasses at each end. The first room is for dinner parties, the next for ices, and CONSULAR GUARD. 81 and the third for coffee. In the middle is a flying staircase, chap. lined on each side with orange trees, which ascends into a ^^' suite of upper dinner rooms, all of which are admirably painted after the taste of the Herculaneum, and are almost lined with costly pier glasses. My fair countrywomen would perhaps be a little surprised to be told, that elegant women, of the first respectability, su- perbly dressed for the promenade, dine here with their friends in the public room, a custom which renders the scene delight- ful, and removes from it the accustomed impressions of gross- / ness. Upon entering, the guest is presented with a dinner chart, handsomely printed, enumerating the different dishes provided for that day, with their respective prices affixed. All the people who frequent this place are considered highly re- spectable. The visitor is furnished with ice for his water de- canters, with the best attendance at dinner, and with all the english and foreign newspapers. I always dined here when I was not engaged. After parting from Madame H , who intended returning to town the next day, I went to see the consular guard relieved at the Thuilleries. About five com- panies of this distinguished regiment assemble in the gardens, exactly at five minutes before twelve o'clock, and, preceded by their fine band of music, march through the hall of the palace, and form the line in the grand court yard before it, where they are joined by a sq-uadron of horse. Their uniform is blue, with broad white facings. The consular guard were in a Iktle disgrace, and were not permitted to do the entire duty of the palace at this time, M nor Sg ' CONSULAR GUARD. — MUSIC. CHAP. nor during several succeeding days, as a mark of the first ^^* consul's displeasure, which had been excited by some un- guarded expression of the common men, respecting his con- duct, and which, to the jealous ear of a new created and un- tried authority, sounded like the tone of disaffection. Only the cavalry were allowed to mount guard, the infantry were, provisionally, superseded by a detachment from a fme regi- m.ent of hussars. On account of the shortness of this parade^ which is always dismissed precisely at ten minutes past twelve o'clock, it is not much attended. The band is very line, they had a turkish military instrument, which I never heard _ before, and was used instead of triangles. It was in the shape of four canopies, like the roofs of Chinese temples, one above another, lessening as they ascended, made of thin plates of brass, and fringed with very litde brass bells, it was sup- ported by a sliding rod which dropped into a handle, out of which, when it w^as intended to be sounded, it was suddenly jerked by the musician, and produced a good effect with the other instruments. The tambour major is remarked for his noble appearance, and for the proportions of his person, which Is very handsome : his full dress uniform on the grand parade is the most splendid thing, I ever beheld. The corps of pioneers who precede the regiment, have a singular appearance. These men are rather above six feet high, and proportionably made, they wear fierce mustachios, and long black beards, lofty bear skin caps, broad white leathern aprons, which almost touch their chins, and over their shoulders carry enormous hatchets. Their strange costume seemed to unite the dissi- milar IX. MUSIC. VENETIAN HORSES. GATES OF THE PALACE. 83 milar characters of high priest, and warrior. They looked chap. like military magi. The common men made a very martial appearance. Their officers wore english riding boots, which had an unmilitary effect. Paris at present exhibits all the ap- pearances of a city in a state of siege. The consular palace resembles a line of magnificent barracks, at the balconies, and upon the terraces of which, soldiers are every where to be seen lounging. This palace is partitioned between the first and second consuls, the third principal magistrate resides in a palace near the Louvre, opposite to the Thuilleries. The four co- lossal brazen horses, called the Venetian horses, which have been brought from Venice, are mounted upon lofty pedestals, on each side of the gates of the grand court yard of the palace. When the roman emperor Constantino founded Constantinople, he attached these exquisite statues to the chariot of the Sun in the hippodromus, or circus, and when that capital was taken possession of by the Venetian and fi'ench crusading armies, in 120G, the venetiiins obtained possession of them, amongst many other inestimable curiosities, and placed these horses in four niches over the great door of the church of St. Marco. Respecting their previous history, authors very much differ; some assert that they were cast by the great statuary Lysippus, in Alexander's time, others that they were raised over the triumphal arch of Augustus, others of Nero, and thence removed to the triumphal arch of Constantine, from which he carried them to his own capital. They are said to be composed of bronze and gold, which much resembles the famous composition of the corinthian M 2. brass. 84; GARDENS OF THE THUILLERIES. STATUES.-*-'*^* CHAP. brass. Although these statues are of an enormous size, they ^ * are too diminutive for the vast pile of building which they adorn. The same remark applies to the entrance gates, of massy iron, which have just been raised by the directions of the first consul. The tricolour flag, mounted upon the centre dome of the palace, is also too small. From the court yard I entered the gardens, which are very beautiful, and about seven o'clock in the evening, form one of the favourite and fashion- able walks of the parisians. They are disposed in regular pro- menades, in which are many fine casts from the ancient statues, which adorn the hall of antiques, and on each side are noble orange trees, which grow in vast moveable cases ; many of these exotics are twenty feet high. Until lately many of the an- tiques were placed here, but Bonaparte, with his accustomed judgment and veneration for tlie arts, has had them removed into the grand national collection^ and has supplied their places by these beautiful copies, amongst which I particularly distinguished those of Hippomanes, and Atalanta, for the beauty of their proportions, and the exquisite elucidation of their story. Here are also some fine basins of water, in the middle of which are jets d'eau. The gravel walks of the gardens are watered every morning in hot weather, and centinels are sta- tioned at every avenue, to preserve order: no person is ad- mitted who is the carrier of a parcel, however small. Here are groups of people to be seen, every morning, reading the prints of the day, in the refreshing coolness of the shade. For the use of a chair in the gardens, of which there are some hundreds, the proprietor is thankful for the smallest coin of the republic. At THE FAITHFUL VASE. — THE SABINE PICTURE. 85 At the bottom of the steps, leadhig to the terrace, in front of chap. the palace, are some beautiful vases, of an immense size, which ' are raised about twelve feet from the ground : in one of them, which was pointed out to me, an unpopular and persecuted Parisian saved nearly all his property, during the revolution. A short time before the massacre of the lOth of August, 1792, when the domiciliary visits became frequent and keen, this man, during a dark night, stole, unobserved by the guards, into the garden, with a bag under his arm, containing almost all his treasure ; he made his way to the vase, which, from the palace, is on the right hand, next to the Feuillans, and, after some difficulty, committed the whole to the capacious bosom of the faithful depositary : this done, he retreated in safety ; and when the time of terrour v/as passed, fearful that he should not be able to raise his bag from the deep bottom of the urn without a dis- covery, which might have rendered the circumstance suspicious, and perhaps hazardous to him, he presented himself before the minister of the police, verified the narrative of the facts, and was placed in the quiet possession of his property, which in this manner had remained undisturbed during all that frightful period. From the gardens I went to the exhibition of David's celebrated painting of the suspension of the battle between the Sabines and the Romans, produced by the wives of the latter rushing, with their children in their arms, between the ap- proaching warriors. David is deservedly considered as the first living artist in France, and this splendid picture is worthy of his pencil. It is upon an immense scale. All the Figures (of which there are many) are as large as life. The principal female So' MONSIEUR PERREGAUX. CHAP. female raising her terrified infant, and the two chief combatants, TY ' are inimitable. I was informed, by good authority, that the court of Russia had offered 7000/. sterhng for it, an un- exampled price for any modern painting ! but that David, who is very rich, felt a reluctance in parting with it, to the em- peror, on account of the climate of Russia being untavourable to colour- From this beautiful painting, I went to pay my respects to Mons. O , who resided at the further end of Paris, upon whom I had a letter of credit. Upon my arriving at his hotels I was informed by the porter that his master was at his chateau, about ten miles in the country, with his family, where he lay extremely ill. This news rendered it necessary for me to leave Paris for a day and a night at least. From Mons. O I went to Mr. Perregaux, the rich banker and legislator, to whom I had letters of introduction. He lives in the Rue Mont Blanc, a street, the place of residence of the principal bankers, and is next door neighbour to his rival Mons. R , whose lady has occasioned some little con- versation. Mons. P 's hotel is very superb. His chief clerks occupy rooms elegantly fitted up, and decorated with fine paintings. He received me in a very handsome manner, in a beautiful little cabinet, adorned with some excellent, and costly paintings. After many poHte expressions from him, I laughingly informed him of the dilemma in which I was placed by the unexpected absence of Mons. O ; upon whidi Mons. P in the most friendly manner told me that the letters which I had brought were from persons whom he IX. MONSIEUR PERREGATJX. 8T he highly esteemed ; and that Mr. O was also his friend ; chap. that as it might prove inconvenient for me to wait upon him in the country, he begged to have the pleasure of furnishing me with whatever money I wanted, upon my own draughts. I felt this act of politeness and liberality very forcibly, which I of course declined, as I wished not only to take up what money I wanted in a regular manner, but I was desirous of seeing Mr. O , who was represented to me as a very amiable man, and his family as elegant and accomplished. I was much charmed with the generous conduct of Mons. P , from whom I afterwards received great attentions, and who is much beloved by the English. I felt it a pleasurable duty not to confine the knowledge of such an act of liberality to the spot where it was so handsomely manifested. The sessions of the legislative assembly had closed the day before my arrival, a circumstance I much regretted, as through his means I should have been enabled to have attended their sittings. The bankers of France are immensely rich, and almost command the treasury of the nation. Mons. P , with the well-timed, silent sub- mission of the flexible reed, in the fable, has survived the revo- lutionary storm, which by a good, but guiltless policy, has passed over him, without leaving one stain upon his honourable character, and has operated, like the slime of the Egyptian' inundation, only to fructify, and increase his fortunes. He once however narrowly escaped. In the time of Robespierre^ the Marquis de Chatelct, a few nights before his execution,* attempted to corrupt his guards, and told them, if they would release him, Mons. P would give them a draft to any " * amount 8^^ BEAUX AND BELLES OF PARIS. CHAP. amount which they might choose then to name. The centincls ' rejected the bribe, and informed their sanguinary employer of the offer, who had the books of Mons. P investigated : he was in no shape concerned in the attempted escape ; but hearing, with extraordinary swiftness, that the marquis, whose banker he had been, and to whom an inconsiderable balance was then due, had implicated him in this manner, he instantly with dexterity, removed the page which contained the last account of the unhappy nobleman, and also his own destiny,. and thus saved his life. Mons. P is a widower ; his daughter, an only child, is married to a wealthy general, a maa of great bravery, and beloved by Bonaparte. I dined this day at the Restaurateur's in the Thuilleries, and found the effect of Madame H -'s charming civility to me. There were some beautiful women present, dressed after the antique, a fashion successfully introduced by David. This ex- traordinary genius was desirous of dressing the beaux, of Paris after the same model ; but they politely declined it, alleging that if Mons. David would at the same time create another climate, warmer, and more regular for them, they would then submit the matter lo a committee of fashion. The women,, though said, in point of corporal sufferance, to be able to endure less than men, were enchanted with the design of the artist, and, without approaching a single degree nearer to the sun,, unmindful of colds, consumptions, and death, have assumed a dress, if such it can be called, the airiness of which to the eye of fancy, looked like the mist of incense, undulating over a display of beauty and symmetry, only to be rivalled by those FRENCH LADIES. 89 tliose exquisite models of grecian taste which first furnished chaj». them with these new ideas of personal decoration. The French ladies every morning anoint their heads with the antique oil, scented ; their sidelocks are formed into small circles, which just touch the bosom ; and the hair behind is rolled into a rose, by which they produce a perfect copy of the ancient bust. o) b'u l>uoi^ 'j:i ' K CHAP. m •** - CHAPTER X. Large Dogs. — A Plan for becoming quickly acquainted with Paris. — • Pantheon. — Tombs of Voltaire and Rousseau. — * Politeness of an Emigrant. '— Thq Beauty of France. — Beauty evanescent. — Place de Carousel. — Infernal Machine. — Fouchc. — Seiiie. — Washer' women. — Fisherwomen. — Baths. X. CHAP. In the streets of Paris, I every where saw an unusual number of very large, fierce looking dogs, partaking of the breed of the newfoundland, and british bulldog. During the time of termor, these brave and faithful animals were in much request, and are said to have given the alarm of danger, and saved, in several instances, the lives and property of their masters, by their accustomed fidelity. Upon my arrival in this great capital, I was of course desirous of becoming acquainted with its leading features as soon as possible, for the purpose of being enabled to explore my way to any part of it, without a guide. The scheme which I thought of, for this purpose, answered my wishes, and therefore I may presume to submit it to others. On the second day after my arrival, I purch are co- lossal statues, representing the virtues imputed to a republic. Soon after the completion of the inner dome, about two years since, one of the main supporting pillars was crushed in several places by the pressure. The defective column has been re- moved, and until it can be replaced, its proportion of weight is sustained by a most ingenious and complicated wooden structure. Upon the spot where the altar is to be erected, I m saw another goddess of liberty, with her usual appendages carved in wood, and painted, and raised by the order of Robespierre, for a grand revolutionary f§te, which he intended lo have given, in this church, upon the very day in which he N 2 perished. 92 TOMBS OF VOLTAIRE AND ROUSSEAU. CHAP. perisIicJ. The interior dome is covered with two larger ones, ' ' each of which is supported by separate pillars, and pilasters, and the whole is constructed of stone only. The interior of the lower dome is covered with the most beautiful carvings in stone. The peristyle, or circular colonnade round the lower part of the exterior of the dome, is very line, but I must confess, I do not like an ancient fashion which the frencli have just revived in their construction of these pillars, of making the thickest part of the column a little below the centre, and lessening in size to the base. Under this immense fabric are spacious vaults, well lighted ; supported by doric pillars, the depositaries of the illustrious dead of France. At present there are only two personages whose relics are ho- noured with this gloomy distinction. Rousseau and Voltaire very quietly repose by the side of each other. Their remains ' are contained in two separate tombs, which are constructed of wood, and are embellished with various inscriptions. Ham- let's remark over the grave of Ophelia, strongly occurred to me. " Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? ^* your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on ♦* a roar ? not one now to mock your own grinning r quite ** chapfallen r" . -*-<. At either end of the tomb of Jean Jacques, are two hands, darting out of the gates of death, supporting lighted torches, and below, (it is a litde singular) are inscriptions illustrating the peaceful, and benevolent virtues of the enclosed defunct ! Peace to their manes ! may they enjoy more repose, than that POLITENESS OF AN EMIGRANT. 93 tliat troubled world which their extraordinary, yet dIfFerent chap. talents seemed equally destined to embellish and to embroil, ' though it would be difficult to name any two modern writers, who have expressed, with more eloquence, a cordial love of peace, and a zealous desire to promote the interests of hu- manity ! ! The church of St. Genevieve is entirely composed of stone and iron, of the latter very little is used. It has already cost the nation very near two millions sterling. As I was returning from the Pantheon, T was addressed by one of our emigrant companions, to whom I have before alluded. He had just arrived in Paris, intended staying about a month, and then re- turning to Toulon. He warmly made me an offer of his services, and during my stay here, sent every morning to know if he should attend me as a friendly guide, to condtict me to any place which I might wish to see, or to prevent me from suffering any imposition from tradesmen. His attentions to me were always agreeable, and sometimes serviceable, and strongly impressed upon my mind, the policy, as well as the pleasure, of treating every being with civiHty, even where first appearances are not favourable, and where an expectation of meeting the party again Is not probable. In the course of the day I was introduced to Madame B , who resides,, by permission of the first consul, in a suite of elegant apartments in the Louvre, which have been granted to her on account of her merits and genius, and also in consideration of the losses which she has sustained by the revolution. In her study she presented me to Mademoiselle- T^ , the then . celebrated *^^''^'' ' -^ beauty 9it THE BEAUTY OF FRANCE. BEAUTY EVANESCENT. CHAP. beauty of Paris; her portrait by David, had afforded much ■ conversation in the fashionable circles; she was then copying, with great taste, from the antique, which is generally the morning's occupation of the french ladies of fashion. She is certainly a very handsome young woman : but I think if the painter of France was to visit a certain western county of England, he would discover as many attractions for the display of his admirable pencil, as were at this time to be found in the study of Madame B . When we left her, Aladame B asked me what I thought of her ; I candidly made the above remark to her, " Ah !" said she, " you should have seen her " about a month since, she was then the prettiest creature in ;5^ all France;" how so, has she suffered from indisposition? " oh no," replied Madame B , smilingly, " but a month, ** you know, makes a considerable difterence upon the face '* of beauty." I was much obliged to Madame B for the remark, which is greatly within an observation which I have frequently made, on the evanescent nature of youthful beauty. Madame B 's calculations of the given progress of decay, were eighteen times more swift than mine. The subject of our con- versation, and the busts by which we were surrounded, natu- rally led us to talk of the french ladies, and they reminded us, though slightli/f of their present dress. Madame B entered into a particular account of the decorations of a lady of fashion in France. I have not patience enough to enumerate them here, except that the wife of a fournisseur will not hesi- tate paying from three to four hundred pounds for a Cache-- mire PLACE DE CAROUSEL. INFERNAL MACHINE. 95 mire shawl, nor from four to five hundred pounds for a laced chap. gown, nor a much larger sum for diamonds cut like pearls, ' and threaded. In this costly manner, does the ingenuity of art, and the prodigality of wealth do homage to the elegance of na- ture. The entrance to Madame B 's apartments seemed at iirst, a little singular and unsuitable, but I soon found that it was no unusual circumstance, after groping through dirty passages, and up filthy staircases to enter a noble hall and splendid rooms. Upon leaving Madame B I passed the Place de Ca- rousel, and saw the ruins of the houses, which suffered by the explosion of the infernal machine, which afforded so much conversation in the world at the time, by which the first consul was intended to have been destroyed in his way to the National Institute of Music. This affair has been somewhat involved in mystery. It is now well known that Monsieur Fouch6, at the head of the police, was acquainted with this con- spiracy from its first conception, and by his vigilant agents, ' was informed of the daily progress made in the construction of this destructive instrument, of the plan of which he had even a copy. The conspirators proceeded with perfect confidence, and as they thought with perfect security. Three days before it was quite completed, and ready for its fell purpose, from some surprise or dread of detection, they changed their place of meeting, and in one night removed the machine from the spot where it had been usually deposited. The penetrating eye of the police lost sight of them. Fouchc, and his followers exercised t their unrivalled talents for pursuit and discovery to no purpose. Tlie baffled minister then waited upon Bonaparte, to whom he had regularly 96 CHAP. X. •TT. INFERNAL MACHINE. FOUCHE. regularly imparted the result of every clay's information re- specting it, and told him that he could no longer trace the traiterou? instrument of his assassination, and requested him, as lie knew it must be completed by this time, not to go to any pubhc places, until he had regained a knowledge of it. Bona- parte replied, that fear only made cowards, and conspirators brave, and that he had unalterably determined to go with his accus- tomed equipage to the National Concert that very evening. At the usual hour the first consul set off undismayed from the Thuilleries, a description of the machine, which was made to resemble a water cask, being first given to the coachman, servants, and guards. As they proceeded, the advance guard passed it unobserved, but the coachman discovered it just as the consular carriage was on a parallel with it; instantly the dexterous and faithful charioteer lashed his horses into full speed, and turned the corner of the Rue Marcem. In one moment after, the terrible machine exploded, and covered the street \^ ith ruins. The thunder of its discharge shook the houses of Paris, and was heard at a considerable distance in the country. The first consul arrived in safety at the Hall of Music, and with every appearance of perfect tranquillity, entered his box amidst the acclamations of the crowded multitude. The range of buildings which was shattered by the explosion, has long offended the eye of taste, and presented a gloomy, and very inconvenient obstruction to tlie grand entrance of the palace. Bonaparte, with his usual judgment, which converts every event into some good, immediately after this affair, purchased the houses which were damaged, and the whole of this scene of .. . ;. ruins SEINE. WASHEftWOMEN. 97 mins and rubbish is removing with aU possible expedition, to cuap.^ the great improvement of this grand approach. ' Whilst I was strolling along the banks of the Seine, I could not help remarking that it would suffer much by a comparison i. with the Thames, so finely described by sir John Denham — Though deep, yet clear, though gentle yet not dull : Strong without rage, without o'^rflowing full. 'j The Seine is narrow, and very dirty; its waters, which are finely filtrated when drawn from the fountains of RinSy produce an aperient efiect upon strangers, who are generally cautioned not to drink much of them at a time. 'The tide does not reach further than several miles below Paris; to this cause I can alone attribute, though perhaps the reason is insufficient, that the river is never rendered gay by the passing, and repassing of beautiful pleasure boats, to the de- lights of which the parisians seem total strangers. Its shores - are sadly disfigured by a number >of black, gkxnnT, and un- wieldy ^heds, which are erected upon barges, for the accom- modation of the ' washerwoBoen, who^ by their mode of washino^ which; k, by rubbing the linen m the river water,. artd bating it with large flat pieces of wood, resemUing bat- tledoresi- until the dirt, and generally a portion of the linen retire together, make ^a^ootse vc^ similar to that of sh^' wrights caulking a vesel. Thi^ i^-an abominable nuisance, and renders the view up the river, -from the centre of the Pont de la Concorde, themort complete m6hthge of filth and finer^^ '* o meanness 9S ; FISHERWOMEN. CHAP. meanness and magnificence I ever beheld. Whilst I am speak- ' ing of these valuable, but noisy dames, I must mention that their services are chiefly confined to strangers, and the humbler class of parisians. The genteel families of France are annoyed by the unpleasant domestic occurrence of washing, when in town only once, and when in the country only twice in the course of the year. Their magazines of clothes are of course immense, for the reception and arrangement of which several rooms in their houses are always allotted. It is the intention of the first consul gradually to unkennel this clat- tering race of females, when it can be done with safety. To force them to the tub, and to put them into the suds too sud- denly, might, from their influence amongst the lower classes of citizens, be followed by consequences not very congenial to the repose of the government. tjjTo show of what importance the ladies of the lower class in Paris are, I shall relate a little anecdote of Bonaparte, in which he is considered to have exhibited as much bravery as he ever displayed in the field of battle. "The poissardes, whose name alone will awaken some emotion in the mind of the reader, from its horrible union with the barbarous n"»assiicres which discoloured the capital with blood during the revolution, have been from time immemorial ac- customed, upon any great and fortunate event, to send a depu- tation of their sisterhood to the kings and ministers of France, and since the revolution to the various rulers of the republic, to oflcr their congratulations, accompanied by a large bouquet of flowers. Upon the elevation of Bonaparte to the supreme authority BATHS. 9^ authority of France, according to custom, they sent a scleet number from their body to present him with their good wishes, and usual fragrant donation. The first consul sternly received them, and after rejecting their nosegay, fiercely told them to retire, and in future to attend to their husbands, their children, and their fisheries, and never more to at- tempt an interference in matters relating to the state. Upon which he ordered the pages in waiting to close the door upon them. He thought no doubt that " Omnium manibus res *' humanae egent: paucorum capita sufficiunt." — '* Human ** aifairs require the hands of all, whilst the heads of few " are sufficient.*' These formidable dames, so celebrated for their ferocity, retired chagrined and chapfallen from the presence of the imperious consul, and have not attempted to force either their congratulations, or their bouquets upon any of the public functionaries since that period. Such a repulse as this, offered to a body of people, more formidable from their influence than the lazzaroni of Naples, would in all human probability have cost any one of the kings of France his crown. I received this anecdote from the bro- ther of one of the ministers of France to whom this coun- try is much indebted. Before the high daring of Bona- parte, every difficulty seems to droop, and die. Near the Pont de la Concorde is a handsome, and orna- mental building, which is erected upon barges, and contains near three hundred cold and tepid baths, for men and wo- men. It is surrounded by a wooden terrace, which forms o 2 an CHA^. X. • J 00 BATH&. CHAP, an agreeable walk upon the water, and is decorated with ^' shrubs, orange trees, and flowers, on each side. This place is very grateful in a climate which, in sum- mer, is intensely warm. There are other public baths, but this is chiefly resorted to by people of respectability. The price is very moderate, thirty sols. itWIO' ^f! imy- . ^ CHAP. XI. CHAPTER XI. David, — Place de la Concorde. — VEglise de Madeleine, — Print- shops^. — Notre Dame. — Museum or Palace of Arts. — Hall of Statues. — Laocoon. — Belvidere Apollo. — Socrates.. During my stay in Paris I visited the gallery of David. chap. This celebrated artist has amassed a fortune of upwards of two hundred thousand pounds, and is permitted by his great patron, and friend Bonaparte^ to occupy the corner wing of the old palace, from which every other man of genius and science, who was entitled to reside there, has been removed to other places, in order to make room for the reception of the grand National Library, which the first consul intends to have de- posited there. His apartments are very magnificent, and fur- nished in that taste, which he has, by the influence of his fame, and his elegance of design, so widely, and successfully diffused. Whilst I was seated in his rooms, I could not help fancying myself a contemporary of the most tasteful times of Greece. Tunics and robes were carelessly but gracefully thrown over the antique chairs, which were surrounded by elegant statues, and ancient libraries, so disposed, as to perfect the classical illusion. I found David in his garden, putting in the back ground of a painting. He wore a dirty robe, and an old hat. . His eyes are dark and penetrating, and beam with the lustre of genius. His collection of paintings and statues, and many of his own studies, afforded a perfect banquet* He 102 DAVID. CHAP. He was then occupied in drawing a fine portrait of Bonaparte. ^^' The presence of David covered the gratification with gloom. Before me, in the bosom of that ait, which is said, with her divine associates, to soften the souls of men, I beheld the remorseless judge of his sovereign, the destroyer of his brethren in art, and the enthusiast and confidential friend of Robes- pierre. David's political life is too well known. During the late scenes of horror, he was asked by an acquaintance, how many heads had fallen upon the scaffold that day, to which he is said coolly to have replied, " ow/y one hundred and twenty ! ! ** The heads of twenty thousand more must fall before the " great work of philosophy can be accomplished." It is related of him, that during the reign of the Mountain, he carried his portfolio to the front of the scaffold, to catch the last emotions of expiring nature, from the victims of his revo- lutionary rage. He directed and presided at the splendid funeral solemni- ties of Lepelletier, who was assassinated by Paris, in which his -taste and intimate knowledge of the ceremonies of the ancients, iOn similar occasions, were eminently displayed. Farewell, David ! when years have rolled away, and time has mellowed the works of thy sublime pencil, mayst thou be remembered only as their creator; may thy fame repose herself upon the tableau of the dying Socrates, and the miraculous passage of the Alpine hero, may the ensanguined records of thy political frenzy, moulder away, and may science, who knew not blood till thou wert known, whose pure, and hallowed inspirations have made men happier, and better, till thou DAVID. J03 thou wert born, implore for thee forgiveness, and whilst, with chap. rapture she points to the immortal images of thy divme genius, ' may she cover with an impenetrable pall, the pale, and shud- dering, and bleeding victims of thy sanguinary soul I -'■, The great abilities of this man, have alone enabled him to sur- vive the revolution, which, strange to relate, has, throughout its ravages, preserved a veneration for science, and, in general, protected her distinguished followers. Bonaparte, who possesses great taste " that instinct superior to study, surer than reasoning, ** and more rapid than reflection," entertains the greatest ad- miration for the genius of David, and always consults him in the arrangement of his paintings and statues. All the costumes of government have been designed by this artist. > David is not without his adherents. He has many pupils, the sons of respectable, and some of them, of noble families residing in different parts of Europe. They are said to be much attached to him, and have formed themselves into a military corps, for the purpose of occasionally doing honour to him, and were lately on the point of revenging an insult which had been offered to his person, in a manner, which, if perpetrated, would have required the interest of their master to have saved them from the scaffold. But neither the gracious protection of consular fiivour, nor the splendour of unrivalled abilities, can restore dieir polluted possessor, to the affections and endearments of social inter- course. Humanity has drawn a sable circle round him. He leads the life of a proscribed exile, in the very centre of the gayest city in Europe. In the gloomy shade of unchosen seclusion, lX)4f PLACE DE LA CONCORDE. CHAP, seclusion, he passes his ungladdciied hours. In the hope of * covering his guilt with his glory, and of presentmg to poste- rity, by the energies of his unequalled genius, some atone- ment for the havoc, and ruin of that political hurricane, of which he directed the fury, and befriended the desolations, against every contemporary object that nature had endeared, aiid virtue consecrated. After leaving the gallery of David, I visited la Place de la Concorde. This ill fated spot, from its spaciousness, and beauty of situation, has always been the theatre of the great f^tes of the nation, as well as the scene of its greatest calami- ties. When the nuptials of the late king and queen were celebrated, the magnificent fireworks, shows, and illumina- tions which followed, were iiere displayed. During the exhi- bition, a numerous banditti, from Normandy, broke in upon tlie vast assemblage of spectators : owing. to the confusion which followed, and the I'all of some of the scaffolding, the supporters of which were sawed through by tlicse wretches, the disorder became dreadful, aud universal; many were crushed to death, a«d some hundreds of the people, whilst endeavouring to make their escape, were stabbed, and robbed. The king and queen, as a mark of their deep regret, ordered the dead to be en- tombed in the new biirial ground of rEglise de Madeleine, , then erecting at the entrance of the Boulevard des Italiens, I in the neighbourhood of the palace, under the immediate inspection and patronage of the sovereign. Tl is building was never finished, and still presents to the eye, a naked pile of lofty walls and columns. Alas ! tlie gloomy aug-uries whicJi '. >!y . followed XI. ., .|i*:EGLISE DE MADELEINE. — P.RINT SHOI^S,, .,: , '^§)j^ followed tills fatal spectacle, were too ti;uly f^^lized. On that chap^. spot perished the monarch and liis,^een,.apd-^l;^e flft>yGr of the french nobility, and many of the virtuous anf} enlightened men of France, and in this cemetery, their unhonpured re- mains were thrown, amidst heaps of headless victims, into pro- miscuous graves of unslacked lime ! liy^ Ym How inscrutable are the ways of destiny ! nogri Ij^yb^^I This spot, which, from its enchanting scenery, is calculated only to recal, or to inspire the most tender, and generous, and elegant sentiments, which has been the favoured resort of so many kings, and the scene of every gorgeous spectacle, was doomed to become the human shambles of the brave and good, and the Golgotha of the guillotine ! In the centre, is an oblong square railing, which encloses the exact spot where formerly stood that instrument of death, which was voted permanent by its remorseless employers. A temporary model in v/ood, of a lofty superb monument, two hundred feet high, intended to be erected in honour of Bonaparte and the batde of Marengo, was raised in this place, for his approval, but from policy or modesty, he declined diis distinguished mark of public approbation. I was a litde sur- prised to observe, in the windows of the principal print shops, prints exposed to sale, representing the late king, in his full robes of state, under which was written. Le Restaurateur de la liberte, (an equivoque, no doubt) and the parting interview between that unhappy sovereign and his queen and family in the temple, upon the morning of his execution. ^ . This little circumstance will show the confidence which the p present 10(y NOTRE DAME. MUSEUM, OR I'ALACE OF ARTS. CHAP, present rulers feel in the strength and security of the present ._ government ; for such representations are certainly calculated to excite feelings, and to restore impressions which might prove a little hazardous to both, were they less powerfully supported. I was also one morning a little surprised, by hearing from my window, the exhilarating song of " Rule Britannia"* played upon a hand organ ; upon looking down into the street, I beheld a Savoyard very composedly turning the handle of his musical machine, as he moved along, and a french officer humming the tune after him. B'oth were, no doubts ignorant of the nationality of the- song, though not of thq truth of its sentiment. f ol bsoioc >r ' In the course of one of my morning walks, I went to the metropolitan abbey of Notre Dame, which is situated at the end of a large island in the Seine> which form^ a part of Paris,, and is filled with long narrow, streets. It is a fine gothic pile, but in my humble opinion, much rnfcrior to our V/est- minster abbey,, and to the great churches of Rouen-. From this building T visited, with a large party, the cel'e* brated museum, or palace of the arts, which I afterwauds gene- rally frequented every other day. This inestimable collection contains one thousand and thirty paintings, which are considered to be the chefs d'oeuvre of the great ancient masters, and is a treasury of human art and genius, unknown to the most renowned of former ages, and far surpassing every other institution of the same nature, in the present times. - The first apartment is about the' size of the exhibition room ©f MUSEUM, OR PALACE QF ARTS. ^1Q7 of Somerset house, and lighted as that is, from above. It chap. contains several exquisite paintings, which have been presented * to Bonaparte by the princes, and rulers of tliose states which have been either subdued by his arms, or have cultivated his alliance. The parisians call this apartment Bonaparte's nosegay. The most costly pictures in the room, are from the gallery of the grand duke of Tuscany. Amongst so many works, all exquisite and beautiful, it is almost temerity to attempt to select, but if I might be permitted to name those which pleased me most, I should particularize the Ecce Homo, by Cigoli Ludovico Cardi. The breast of the mild and benevolent Saviour, striped with the bruises of recent punishment, and his heavenly counte- nance, benignly looking forgiveness upon his executioners, are beautifully delineated. L'Annonciation, by Gentileschi, in which the divine look of the angel, the graceful plumage of his wings, and the drapery of the virgin, are incomparable. La Sagesse chassant les Vices, which is a very ancient and cu- rious painting, by Andrea Mantegna, in which the figure, of Idleness, without arms, is wonderfully conceived. Les Noces ' de Cana, by Paul Veronese, which is considered to be the best of his works. It is the largest painting I ever beheld. The figures which are seated at the banquet, are chiefly the por- traits of contemporary royal personages of difterent nations. From this room we passed into the gallery of the Louvre. I cannot adequately describe the first impressions which were awakened, upon my first entering it, and contemplating such a galaxy of art and genius. This room is one thousand p 2 two 108 MUSEUM, OR PALACE OF ARTS. CHAP. two hiindved feet long, and is lined with the finest paintings ^^* of the french, flemish, and italian schools, and is divided by a curious double painting upon slate, placed upon a pedestal in the middle of the room, which represents the front and back view of the same figures. The first division of this hall contains the finest works of le Brun, many of which are upon an immense scale. L'Hyver ou le Deluge, by Poussin, is truly sublime, but is mifortvmately placed in a bad light. There are also some beautiful marine paintings, by Verney. Les Religieuses, by Philipe de Champagne, is justly celebrated for the principal figure of the dying nun. Vue de Chevet d'une eglise, by Emanuel de Witte, is an exquisite little cabinet picture, in which the effect of a ray of light shining through a painted window, upon a column, is inimitable, and the perspective is very fine. There are here also some of the finest works of Wouvermans, and a charming picture by Teniers. La Vierge,. I'enfant Jesus, la Madeleine, et St. Jerome, by Antoine Allegri Correge, is considered to be a picture of great beauty and value. There arc also some glorious paintings by Reubens. I have thus briefly selected these pictures from the rest, hoping, at the same time, that it will not be inferred that those which I have not named, of which it would be impos- sible to offer a description without filling a bulky volume, are inferior to the works which I have presumed to mention. The recording pen must rival that matchless pencil, which has thus adorned the walls of the Museum, before it can do justice to such a magnificent collection, Thia HALL OF STATUES. '109 Tills exhibition is public three days in the week, and at chap. other times is open to students and to strangers, upon their producing their passports. On public days, all descriptions of persons are here to be seen. The contemplation of such a mixture is not altogether uninteresting. .Tuiry^ij-vt - rh rnr>~' The sun-browned rugged plebeian, whose mind, by the in- fluence of an unexampled political change, has been long alienated from all the noble feelings which religion and huma- nity inspire, is here seen, with his arms rudely folded over his breast, softening into pity, before the struggling and sinking sufferers of a deluged world, or silently imbibing from the divine resigned countenance of the crucified Saviour, a hope of unperishable bliss, beyond the grave. Who will condemn a policy by which ignorance becomes enlightened, profligacy penitent, and which, as by stealth, imparts to the relenting bosom of.ferofity the subdued, and social dispositions of ti^e fraternity'?- -^-^ ^ ^^?^;; To amuse, may be necessary to the present government of France, but surely to supplant the wild abandoned principles of a barbarous revolution, with new impressions, created by an unreserved display of the finest and most persuasive images of resigned suffering, heroic virtue, or elegant beauty, cannot be deemed unworthy of the ruler of a great people, ind- *» At this place, as well as at all the other national exhibitions, no money for admission is required or expected. No person is admitted with a stick, and guards attend to preserve the pictures from injury, and the exhibition from riot. The gallery of the Louvre is at present, unfortunately, badly lighted ; ) throughout,, XI. 110 LAOCOON. CHAP. throughout, owing to the hght issuhig chiefly on one side, ^^' from long windows* This inconvenience, however, is soon to be remedied; by observing the same manner of hghting, as in the adjoining apartment. ; - From the museum, we descended into la Salle des Antiques, .which contains all the treasury of grecian and roman statuary. The first object to which we hastened, was the statue of Laocoon, for so many ages, and by so many writers admired and celebrated. This superb specimen of grecian sculpture, is supposed to be the united production of Polydorus, Atheno- dorus, and Agesander, but its great antiquity renders its history somewhat dubious. In the beginning of the sixteenth century it was discovered at Rome amongst the ruins of the palace of Titus, and deposited in the Farnese palace, whence it has been removed to Paris, by the orders of Bonaparte, after the conquest of Italy. It represents Laocoon, the priest of Apollo and Neptune, and his two sons writhing in the folds of two hideous serpents. The reader will remember the beautiful lines of Virgil upon the subject, • et primum parva duorum ** Corpora natorum serpens amplexus uterque '^ " Implicat, et miseros morsu depascitur artus. ""^^ " Post, ipsum auxilio subeuntem ac tela ferentem '* Corripiunt, spirisque ligant ingentibus : et jam " Bis medium amplexi, bis collo squamea circum *' Terga dati, superant capite et cervicibus altis. **. Hie simul manibus tendit divellere nodes — " ,tf;oi%uoixfr Or, ^^ JLAOCOON. — BElVIDERE APOLLO, 111 Or, in the english habit wliich Dryden lias given them^ ciiAi?,, XI. '* And first around the tender boys they wind, ' " Then with their sharpen'd fangs, their limbs and bodies grind. " The wretched father, running to their aid, <* With pious haste, but vain, they next invade : . . ** Twice round his waist the winding volumes roU'd, *' And twice about his gasping throat they fold. " J** The priest, thus doubly chok'd, their crests divide, !;;::'"rn(> "<■'. ' '. .;.. . ."■'■'■ ■• • . . . " And tow'rins; o'er his head in triumphs ride. " With both his hands he labours at the knots — " ^ . Pliny mentions this statue as the admiration pf the age in which he flourished. .iii;:iij. duzx) -ni^Li: m I fear that I shall be guilty of a soft of profdnatioh when I remark, that the figures of the two sons of Laocoon appear to exhibit rather more marks of maturity, and strength of Biuscle than are natural to their size, and to the supposed ten- derness of their age. It is, however, a glorious work of art. >1 • We next beheld the Belvidere Apollo. This statue, in my humble opinion, surpasses every other in the collection* All the divinity of a god beams through this unrivalled perfection of form. It is impossible to impart the impressions which it inspires. The rivetted beboWer is ready to exclaim, with Adam, when he first discerns the approach of Raphael,. «< behold what glorious shape *' Comes this way moving : seems another morn,, ** Risen on mid-noon ; some great behest from Heav'n/*^ The XI. 112 ,0JJ01w^ SOCRATES. x CHAP. The imagination cannot form such an union of grace and strength. During my stay .in Paris, 1 frequently visited this distinguished statue, and discovered fresh subjects of amaze- ment, and admiration as often as I gazed upon it. One of its remarkable beauties, is. its exquisite expression of mo- tion. Its aerial appearance perpetually excites the idea of its being unstationary, and unsupported. As it would be a rash, and vain attempt to give a complete description of this matchless image, I must, reluctantly, leave it, to inform my reader, that on the other side of the Hall are the original Diana (which is wonderfully fine) and several very beautiful Venuses. The Venus de Medicis is not here. There are also some fine whole length statues of roman magistrates, in their curule chairs. A::jrb:vrc:fi -. In the Temple of the Muses, are exquisite busts of Homer and Socrates. Pliny informs us that the ancient world possessed no original bust of the former. That of the latter seems to have been chisseled to represent the ce- lebrated athenian before he had obtained his philosophical triumph over those vices, which a distinguished physiognomist of his time once imputed to him from the character of his features. •> '^^ CHAP, h' CHAPTER XII. Ahiuml ,uvt /! ., J^'^ ■ •»^«M Bonaparte. — Artillery. — A/r. PzV/. — Newspapers. — Archbishop of Paris. — Consular Colours. — Religion. — Consular Conversion. — Madame Bonaparte. — Consular Modesty. — Separate Beds. — A Country Scene. — Cojinubial Affection. — Female Braveiy, A Little anecdote is related of Bonaparte, which unfolded the chap. • X IT bold, and daring character of this extraordinary man in early * life: when he was about fifteen years of age, and a cadet in the military school at Paris — by the by, the small distance be- tween this seminary and his present palace, and the swift- ness of his elevation, afford a curious coincidence — in the vast plain of the Champ de Mars, the court, and the parisians were assembled to witness the ascent of a balloon. Bonaparte made his way through the crowd, and unperceived, entered the inner fence, which contained the apparatus for inflating the silken globe. It was then very nearly filled, and restrained from its flight by the last cord only. The young cadet re- quested the aeronaut to permit him to mount the car with him; which request was immediately refused, from an apprehension that the feelings of the boy might embarrass the experiment. Bonaparte is reported to have exclaimed, " I am young, it is •' true, but I neither fear the powers of earth, nor of air," and sternly added, " will you let me ascend :*' The aeronaut, a little offended at his obtrusion, sharply replied, ** No, Sir, " 1 will not; I beg that you will retire." Upon which the Q little 114 " BONAPARTE. CHAP, little enraged officer, drew a small sabre, which he wore with •^^^' his uniform, instantly cut the balloon in several places, and destroyed the curious apparatus, which the aeronaut had con- structed, with infinite labour and ingenuity, for the purpose of trying the possibility pf aerial navigation. Paris was almost unpeopled this day, to view the spec- tacle. The disappointment of the populace, which was said to have exceeded seven hundred thousand persons, became .,4/ H fix violent and universal. The. king sent to know the reason of the tumult, when the story was related to him, the good hu- m9ured monarch laughed iieartily, and said, ," Upon my word *' that impetuous boy, will make a brave officer." — -The de- voted king little thought that he was speaking of his jsuccessor. ■ — ^The young offender was put under arrest, and confined for tour days. lliis man is certainly the phenomenon of the present times. It is a circumstance worthy of remark, that tlie artillery has furnished France with most of its present distinguished heroes, who have also been bred up in the same military school with Bonaparte. A short time belbre my arrival at Paris, this great genius, who displays a perfept knowledge of .manklind, and particularly of the people over whom he r^iles, discovered that the Parisians, from a familiarity with his person, and from his lady ;ind jiis family having occasionally joined in their parties of amusement, began to lose that degree of awe and respect for him, which he so well knows how to appreciate, as well as to inspire. In consequence of this, he gradually retired from ^very circle of fashion, and was at this! period, almost as in- accessible BONAPARTK. n5 tirecsslblc as a^ criinese emperor. The same iin<* of conduct chap. XII. was also adopted by the principal officers of government. ^ He resided almost wholly at Mcll Maison, except on state days> when only tliose strangers were permitted to be introduced to- himv who had satisfied the ambassadors of their respective- nations, that tlicy had been previously presented at their o\\aii courts. If Bonaparte is spared from the stroke of the as-" s^ssin-, or the praetorian caprice of the army, for any length* of time, he will have it in his power to aiigmeilt the scr-* - vices which he has already afforded tb= the' republic, by r|(Clej-gy, by a well timed comphment to the rnetropo-, wti'i A litan 118' .f.i;T/.'t 'CONSULAR COLOURS^'^A'JZ'/rSVt CHAP. lltan archbishop. The first consul gave a grand dinner to ^^^' this dignified prelate, and to several of his brethren. After the entertainment, Bonaparte addressed tlie archbishop by observing, that' as he had given directions for the repairing of the archiepiscopal palace, he should very much like to take a ride in the archbishop's carriage, to see the pi'ogress \diich the workmen had made. The prelate bowed to the first consul, and informed him that he had no ca;rriage, otherwise he sliould be: much: flattered by conducting liim thither. Bonaparte good humouredly said; "how can ih^V *' be? your coach has been waiting at the gate this half Hour," and immediately led the venerable archbishop down the steps of the Thuilleries, where he found a plain hand- some carriagei with- a val u able paip of llo^es, and Jt' cosit^- roan, and footmen dressed in the livery which Bonapaite had joist before informed him would be allotted to- himi' when his establishment was completed. The whole? was: ai present from the private purse -of the first consul. Upon- their arrival at the palace, the archbishop was agreeably sur- prised by finding that the most minute, and liberal attention^ had been, paid to his comfort and accommodation. -i liiJ 'The clei-gy seem to be in favour with Bonaparte. When he assisted in" the last spring at the inauguration of the* archbishop of Palis, in the metropohtan church of Notre Dame, and gave to the restoration of religion " all the eiiJ*> '*' cumstance of pomp" and military parade, he was de- sirous oi? having the colours of liis regiment consecrated by tht^iholy^ I^latei and submitted his wishes to hijg^ soldiem -i'-i* A few .'!Tf!A*r/V CONSULAR CONVERSION. :/OD 119 A few days afterwards, a deputation waited upon their general chap, in chief, witli this reply, ** Our banners have already been ' ** consecrated by the blood of our enemies at Marengo ; " the benediction of a priest cannot render them more sa- -f* cred m our eyes* nor more animating in the time c^f '* battle." Bonaparte prudently submitted himself to their . praetorian resolution, and the consular colours remain to this hour in the same wichristiajiUke condition, as when they iirst waved at the head of their victorious legions. This unccdote will in some degree prove a fact which, notwith- standing the counter reports of english newspapers, I fourKi every where confirmed, that although religion is nm to the frencbi yet tlmt the novelty has at present but little charm for them. ''I' -ha^d frequent opportunity of making this re- inark>(a^l weft in the capital as in the departments of the republic through which I passed. In Paris, the Sabbath can only 'bfe 'considered as a day of dissipation to the lovers of gayety, and a day of unusual profit to the man off trade. Here, it is true, upon particular festival days, consi- derable bodies of people are to be seen in the act of wor- ehip, but curiosity, and the love of show assemble them to- gether, if it was otherwise their attendance would be more -numerous and regular. The first consul does not seem to possess much fashionable influence over the frcnch in mat- ters of religion, otherwise, as he has the credit of attending mass, with very pious punctuality, in his private chapel at Ma;l Maison, it might be rather expected, that devotion would become a little more familiar to the people. 120 CONSULAR MODESTY. ^—MADAME BONAPARTE. CHAP. Upon another subject, the profession of the chief magi- * strate has been equally unfortunate. To the few ladies who are admitted into his social circles, he has declared himself an enemy to that dress, or undress (I am puzzled to know what to call it) which his friend, David, has, so success- . fully, recommended, for the purpose of displaying, with the least possible restraint, the fine proportions of the female form. Madame Bonaparte, who is considered to be in as good a state of subordination to her young husband, as the consular regiment is to their young general, contrives to ex- hibit i her elegant person to great advantage ; by adopting a judicious and graceful medium of dress, by which she taste- fully avoids a load of decoration, which repels the eye by -too dense a covering, and that questionable iairiness of orn^j- ment which, by its gracious and unrestrained display, de- prives the imagination of more than half its pleasures. Bo- naparte is said not to be indifferent to those affections which do honour to the breast which cherishes them, nor to the , morals of the people whom he governs. ..j^vjt is well known that in France, in the house of a ne\V fashionable couple, separate chambers are always reserved for the faithful pair, which after the solemnities of marriage very seldom remain long unoccupied. The first consul con- siders such separations as unfriendly to morals. A few months since, by a well timed display of assumed igno-' ranee, he endeavourdd to give fashion to a sentiment which may in time reduce the number of these family accommo- dations. The noble palace of St. Cloud was at this time preparing XII. SEPARATE BEDS. — A COUNTRY SCENE* 121 preparing for him ; the principal architect requested of him to chap, point out in what part of the palace he would wish to have liis separate sleeping room. " I do not know what you mean," said the young imperial philosopher, ** crimes only divide ** the husband from his wife. Make as many bed rooms as ** you please, but only one for me and Madame Bonaparte. * I must now quit the dazzling splendour of imperial virtues for the more tranquil, but not less fascinating appearance of retired and modest merit. '-^ It was in the afternoon of one of the finest days in June, when Madame O , with her nephew, a very amiable young man, called in their carriage and took me to the chateau of her husband, to whom I had letters of introduction. After passing through a charming country for nine miles^ adorned on each side with gardens and country houses, we arrived at the pleasant village of la Reine, As soon as we entered it, the sight of the carriage, and of their benefactress, seemed to enliven the faces of the villagers, who were seated in pic- turesque groupes at the doors of their cottages. Such ani- mated looks were not lighted up by curiosity, for tliey had seen Madame O a thousand and a thousand times, but because they had seldom seen her without experiencing some endeariujg proof of her bountiful heart. We left the village to the right, and proceeded through a private road, lined with stately walnut trees, of nearly a mile in length, which led to Monsieur O 's. It was evening ; the sky was cloud- less, the sun was setting in great glory, and covered the face of this romantic country with the richest glow. Near the lil^ ^aWaC?* ^ COUNTRY SCENE* CHAP. gate of a shrubbery I beheld a very handsome boy, whose? ' appearance at once bespoke him to be the son of a gentleman, the animated smile of Madame O , immediately convinced me that it was her son ; *' see," said the delighted mother, " it ** is my httle gardener;" the little graceful rustic had a small spade in his hand, which he threw down, and ran to us. We alighted at the entrance of the garden, into which we entered, under a beautiful covered treillage, lined with jessa- mine and honeysuckles. At the end were two elegant young women, waiting, with delight, to receive their mother, from, whom they had been separated only a few hours. With this charming family I entered the house, which was handsome but plain. The hospitable owner rose from his sofa, and, after embracing his elegant lady with great affection, he received me with all the expressions and warmth of a long friendship^ Soon afterwards his servant (a faithful Indian) entered, and spread upon the table, Madeira,^ Burgundy, and dried fruits. It was intensely hot : the great window at the end of the room in which we were sitting, opened into the gardens,, which appeared to be very beautiful, and abounded with ' nightingales, which were then most sweetly suiging. " They " are my little musicians," said Monsieur O , " we have *• made a pleasant bargain together, I give tliem crumbs of " bread and my bowers to range in> and they give me this ** charming music every evening." Monsieur O was an invalide, the revolution, poignant vexations, heavy losses, and a painful separation from his native country, for the preservation of his life, and that of his ^ family. CONNUBIAL AFFECTION.) 123 family, had undermined his health. Grief had made sad chap* inroads upon a delicate constitution. It was his good fortune ^^^•'' to be the husband of one of the finest, and most amiable ^ women in France, and the father of an aifectionate, beau-: tiful, and accomplished family. His circumstances had been > onte splendid ; they were then respectable, but he had passed through events which threatened his all. Those sufferings which generous souls sustain for the sake of others, not for themselves, had alone destroyed the resemblance which once existed between this excellent man and his admirable portrait,' which, at the further end of the room, presented the healthy.: glow, and fine proportions of manly beauty. He expressed f to me, in the most charming manner, his regret, that indisHl position confined him to the country, and preveated him from receiving me in Paris suitable to his own wishes, and to those* claims which I had upon his attentions, by the letters of in- troduction which I had brought to him ; but added, that he^ . should furnish me with letters to some of his friends in town, who would be happy to supply his absence, and to make Paris agreeable to me. Monsieur O was as good as his word. This amiable gentleman possessed a countenance of great " genius, and a mind full of intelligence. • "f-^ *"''•'!:•' ffrfH'>'*'^T'?Hi After an elegant supper, when his lady and daughters had withdrawn, he entered into a very interesting account of his country, of the revolution, and of his flight for the salvation of himself and family. A* tolerably good opinion may be formed of the devastation which have been produced by the late republican government, by the following circumstance; R 2 which' ISI*' CONNUBIAL AFFECTION. CH"AP. which Monsieur O assured me, on the word of a man of ^^^' honour, was correct. ' * '* His section in Paris was composed of one thousand three hundred persons, of rank and fortune, of whom only five had escaped the slaughter of th€ guillotine ! ! Madame O and her chai'ming family, seemed wholly to occupy his heart and aifections. i He spoke of his lady with all the tender eulogium of s young lover. Their union was entirely from attachment, and had been resisted on the part of Madame O , when he first addressed lier,^ only because her fortune was humble, com- pared with his. He informed me, and I must not suppress the story, that in the time of blood, this amiable woman, ^ who is remarkable for the delicacy of her mind, and for the- beauty and majesty of her person, displayed a degree of cool-r ness and courage, which,, in the field of battle, would have covered the hero with laurels. One evenin-g, a short period before the family left France, a party of those murderers, who were sent for by Robespierre, from the frontiers which divide France from Italy, and who were by that arehtiend employed in all tlie butcheries, and massacres of Paris, entered the peaceful village of la Reine, in search of Monsieur O . His lady 5aw them axlvancing, and anticipating their errand, had just time to give her husband intelligence of their approach, who left his chateau by a back door,, and secreted himself in the house of a neighbour. Madame O ,. with perfect composure, went out to meet them,, and received them in the most gracious manner. They sternly demanded Mons. O , she FEMALE BRAVERY. \'25 she informed them that he had left the country, and after chap, XT T J engaging them in conversation, she conducted them into her |_ drawing room, and regaled them with her best wines, and made her servants attend upon them with unusual deference and ceremony. Their appearance was altogether horrible, they wore leather aprons, which were sprinkled all over with blood, they had large horse pistols in their belts, and a dirk and sabre by their sides. Their looks were full of ferocity, and they spoke a harsh dissonant patois language. Over their cups, ihey talked about the bloody business of that day's occu- pation, in the course of which they drew out their dirks, and wiped from their handles, clots of blood and hair. Madame O sat with them, undismayed by thek frightful deportment. After drinking several bottles of Champaign and Burgundy, these savages began to grow good humoured, and seemed' to be completely fascinated by tlie amiable and unembarrassed, and hospitable behaviour of tbeir fair landlady. After ca- rousing till midniglit, they pressed her to retire, observing that they bad been received so handsomely that they were con- vinced Monsieur O had been misrepresented, and was no enemy to the good cause ; they added that they found the wines excellent, and after drinking two or three bottles more, they would leave the house, without causing her any reason to regret their admission. Madame O , with all the appearance of perfect ti'an- quillity and confidence in their promises, wished her unwel- come visitors a good night, and after visiting her children in their rooms,, she threw herself upon her bed, with a loaded pistol XII. ^2^ FEMALE BRAVERY. CHAP. pistol in each hand, and, overwhehTied with suppressed ' agony and agitation, she soundly slept till she was called by her servants, two hours after these wretches had left the house. He related also another instance of that resolution which is not unfrequently exhibited by women, when those generous; affections, for which they are so justly celebrated, are menaced, with danger. About the same period, two of the children' of Monsieur O were in Paris at school : A rumour had reached him, that the teachers of the seminary in which, they were placed, had offended the government, and were likely to be butchered, and that the carnage which was ex- pected to take place, might, in its undistinguishing fury, ex- tend to the pupils. Immediately upon receiving this intelli-^ gence. Monsieur O ordered his carriage, for the purpose of proceeding to town. Madame O implored of him to permit her to accompany him ; in vain did he beseech her to remain at home ; the picture of danger which he painted, only rendered her more determined. She mounted the car- riage, and seated herself by the side of her husband. When they reached Paris, they were stopped in the middle of tlie street St. Ilonorc, by the massacre of a large number of prisoners who had just been taken out of a church which had been converted into a prison. Tiieir ears were pierced with screams. Many of the miserable victims were cut down, clinging to the windows of their carriage. During the dread- ful delays which they suffered in passing through this street, Madame O — - — discovered no sensations of alarm, but stcd- fastly fixed her eyes upon the back of the coach box, to avoid, as FEMALE BRAVERY. . . 127 as much as possible, observing the butcheries which were per- chap* petrating on each side of her. * Had she been observed to close her eyes, or to set back in the carriage, she would have excited a suspicion, which, no doubt, would have proved fatal to her. At length she reached the school which contained her children, where she found the rumour which they had received was without foundation; she calmly conducted them to the carriage, and during their ;^ gloomy return through Paris, betrayed no emotions ; but as • --^"-^ soon as they had passed the barrier, and were once more in safety upon the road to their peaceful chateau, the exulting mother, in an agony of joy, pressed her children to her bosom, •and in a state of nind w. ought up to frenzy, arrived at her own house, in convulsions of ghastly laughter. Monsieur O never spoke of this charming woman, without exhibit- ing the strongest emotions of regard. He said, that in sickness she suffered no one to attend upon him but herself, that in all his afflictions she had supported him, and that she mitigated the deep melancholy which the sufferings of his country, and his own privations, had fixed upon him, by the well-timed sallies of her elegant fancy, or by the charms of her various accomplishments. I found myself a gainer in the article of delight, by leaving the gayest metropohs that Europe can present to a traveller, for the sake of visiting such a family. CHAP. /f-: CHAP. XIII. CHAPTER XIH. BreaJifast. — Warmth of French Expression.^ — Rustic Eloquence.-^ Curious Cause assig?ied for the late extraordi?iary Frost. — Madame R . — Paul I. — Tivoli. — Frescati, IN the morning we breakfasted in the drawing room, in which the murderous myrmidons of Robespierre had been regaled. It was beautifully situated. Its windows looked into a grove which Monsieur O had formed of valuable american shrubs. His youngest daughter, a beautiful little girl of about five years of age, rather hastily entered the room with a pair of tame wood pigeons in her hands, which, in her eagerness to bring to her father, she had too forcibly pressed, who very gently told her, it was cruel to hurt her little favourites, more particularly as they were a species of bird which was remarkable for its unoffending innocence. The little creature burst into tears, " my little Harriet, why " do you weep r'* said her father, kissing her white forehead, and pressing her to him. " Why do you rebuke me ?" said the little sufferer, ** when you know I love you so much that I ** could kiss your naked heart." I mention this circumstance, to show how early in life, the frcnch children imbibe the most charming expressions, by which their more mature conversation is rendered so peculiarly captivating. During our repast, a circumstance occurred, which produced an unusual vivacity amongst all the party, and WARMTH OF FRENCH EXPRESSION. 129 and afforded a specimen of the talent and pleasantry of the chap. • XIII french country people. The gardener entered, with the paper, * and letters of the day. Amongst them, was a letter which had been opened, appeared very much disordered, and ought to have been received upon the preceding day. Monsieur O »■ seemed much displeased, and called upon his man to explain the matter. The gardener, who possessed a countenance which beamed with animation and good humour, made a low bow, and without appearing to be, in the least degree, dis- concerted, proceeded to unfold the aifair, with the most play- ful ingenuity. He stated that the dairy maid was very pretty, that she made every body in love with her, and was very much in love herself, that she was accustomed to receive a great number of billet doux, which, on account of her edu- cation having been very far below her incomparable merits, she was not able to understand, without the assistance of Nicolene, the groom, who was her confident, and ama- nuensis ; that on the day before, he gave her the letter in question, with directions to carry it to his master, that under the influence of that thoughtful absence which is said to at-tend the advanced stages of the tender passion, she soon . afterwards conceived that it was no other than a customary homage from one of her many admirers, upon which she committed the supposed -depositary of tender sighs and brittle vows, to the warm custody of her glowing bosom, than which, the gardener, (who at this moment saw his master's eyes were engaged by the sullied appearance of the letter) declared that nothing was fairer; he again proceeded, by observing, s that XIII. 130 RUSTIC ELOQUENCE. CHAP. that in the course of the preceding evening, as she was stoop- ing to adjust her stool in tlie meadow, the cow kicked, and the epistle tumhled into the milk pail; that she afterwards dried it by the kitchen fire, and gave it, for the reasons before assigned, to her confidential friend to explain to her, who soon discovered it to be a letter of business, addressed to his. master, instead of an impassioned love ditty for the tender Marie ; that, finally, all the principals concerned in this un- happy afi'air were overwhelmed with distress, on account of the sad disaster, and that the kitolien had lost all its vivacity ever since. No advocate could have pleaded more eloquently. All the family, from its chief, to litde Harriet, whose tears were not yet dried, were in a continued fit of laughing. The gai:- dener, whose face very largely partook of the gaiety which he had so successfully excited, was commissioned, by his ami* able master, to tell the distressed dairy maid, that love always carried his pardon in his hand for all his offences, and tliat he cheerfully forgave her, but directed the gardener, to prevent a recurrence of similar accidents, not again to trust her with: his letters until the tender disease was radically removed. The rustic orator gracefully bowed ; and left us to finish out breakfast with increased good humour, and to carry forgiveness and consolation to poor Marie and all her condoling friends in the kitchen. Before we had completed our repast, a little deformed elderly lady made her appearance, whose religion had been shaken by the revolution, into a crazy and gloomy superstition. She had scarcely seated herself, before she began a very rapid and voluble comment upon, the change of the times, CAUSE OF THE LATE EXTRAORDINARY FROST. 131 times, and the devastations which the late extraordinary frost chap. had committed upon the vineyards of France, which she po- ^ sitively asserted, with the confidence which only tlie arrival of her tutelar saint with the intelligence ought to have in- spired, was sent as an appropriate judgment upon the republic, to punish it, for suffering the ladies of Paris to go so thinly clothed. Monsieur O heard her very patiently through- out, and then observed, that the ways of Heaven were inscru- table, that human ingenuity was baffled, in attempting to draw inferences from its visitations, and that it did not appear to him at least, that an offence which was assuredly calculated to inspire sensations of warmth and tenderness, was appro- priately punished by a chastisement of an opposite tendency, to which he added, that some moralists who indulged in an endeavour to connect causes and effects, might think it rather incompatible with their notions of eternal equity, to endeavour to clothe the ladies, by stripping the land to nakedness — here the old lady could not help smiling. Her amicable adversary pursued the advantage which his pleasantry had produced, by informing her, that prognostications had been for a long period discountenanced, and that formerly when the ancient augurs, after the ceremonies of their successful illusions were over, met each other by accident in the street, impressed by ^ the ridiculous remembrance of their impositions, they could not help laughing in each other's faces. Madame V laughed too; upon which Monsieur O , very good hu^ mouredly told her, that as a soothsayer, she certainly would not have smiled, unless she intended to retire for ever from s 2 the * 132 MADAME R . CHAP. the office. Previous to my taking leave of Monsieur O ^^^^' and his charming family, we walked in the gardens, w^here our conversation turned upon the extraordinary genius, who in the character of first consul of the french, unites a force, and extent of sway unknown to the kings of France, from their first appearance, to the final extinction of monarchy. He told me that he had the honour of knowing him with intimacy from his youth, and extolled, with high eulogy, his splendid abilities, and the great services which he had ren- dered France. He also related several amiable anecdotes of the minister Talleyrand, who, when in America, liad hved with him a considerable time under the same roof. At length the cabriolet, which was to bear me from this little Paradise, approached the gate, and the moment arrived when I was to part with one of the most charming families to be found in the bosom of the republic. As Monsieur O pressed me by one hand,, and placed that of his little Harriet in my other, a tear of exquisite ten- derness rolled down his cheek, it seemed to express that we should never meet again on this side the grave. Excellent being ! if it must be so, if wasting and unsparing sickness is destined to tear thee ere long from those who delight thine eye, and soothe thine heart in the midst of its sorrows, may the angel of peace smile upon thee in thy last moments, and bear thy mild and generous, and patient spirit, to the realms of eternal repose ! Adieu ! dear family of la Reine. Upon my return to Paris, I proceeded to the hotel of Monsieur R— ^ — . Curiosity led me to view the house, and MADAME ft . 133 and the celebrated bed of his lady, who was then in chap. T J XIII. London. ^ The little vanities and eccentricities of this elesrant and hospitable woman, will find immediate forgiveness, when it is known that she is now very young, and was married, when a spoiled child of the age of fourteen, to her present husband. She is one of David's most entliusiastic admirers, and has carried the rage for grecian undress, to an extremity, which, even in the capital, left her without a follower. In the public walks of the Champs Elysees, she one evening presented herself in a dress which, almost rivalled the robes of Paradise ; the parisians, who are remarkable for their politeness to women, and are not remarkable for scrupulous sentiments of delicacy, were so displeased with her appearance, that they made a lane to the entrance for her, and expelled the modern Eve from the Elysian Fields,, not with a ** flaming sword of ** wrath," but with hisses softly uttered,, and by gentle tokens of polite disapprobation. She tells her friends, that her cabinet is crowded with letters of the most impassioned love, from persons of the first fame, distinction,, and opulence. In her parties, when conversation begins to pause,,, she introduces some of these melting epistles, which ?he is said to rjead with a. bewitching pathos, and never fails to close the fond recital by expressions of the tenderest pity for the sufferings of their ill-starred authors. She has declared, that some of her lovers equal tlie Belvidere Apollo in beauty, but that she never has yet seen that being,, who w-as perfect enough to be entitled to the possession of her affections. Do not smile,. Madame R : . is 134 MADAME R . PAUL I. CHAP. IS a disciple of Diana, even slander pays incessant homage to ^^^^' her chastity. Rumour has whispered, in every corner of Paris, that her husband is only admitted to the honour of supplying the finances of her splendid and costly establishment, Ma- dame R has not yet produced any of the beautiful and eloquent arguments of Cornelia, to disprove the strange asser- tion. Her chamber, which constitutes one of the sights of Paris, and which, after what has been just mentioned, may be justly considered, in or out of France, as a great curiosity, is fitted up in a style of considerable taste, and even magnifi- cence. The bed upon which this charming statue reposes, is a superb sofa, raised upon a pedestal, the ascent to which is by a flight of cedar steps, on each side are altars, on which are placed Herculaneum vases of flowers, and a large antique lamp of gold ; the back of the bed is formed by an immense pier glass, and the curtains, which are of the most costly muslin, festooned with golden tassels, descend in beautiful drapery from a floral crown of gold. It is said that the late emperor of Russia, after the laborious and successful diplo- matic intrigues of messrs. Talleyrand and Sieyes, and a certain lady, became enamoured, by description, with the immaculate goddess of Mont Blanc, and that he sent confidential commis* sioners to Paris, to report her daily dress, and to order copies of her furniture. The story may be believed, when the hero of it was well known to be fully qualified for one of the deepest dungeons of a madhouse. I hope, for the sake of society, and the repose of the world, that the rest of Madame R 's admirers . have TIVOLI. 135. have not united to their passion the bewildered imagination, Qhap. whicli fatally distinguished, and finally closed the career of '^ her imperial lover. -- '■■-f^* o*^ Mr. R is very polite to the english, and his letters ensure the greatest attention wherever they are produced. From Mont Blanc I proceeded to the Hotel de Caramand, the residence of the british ambassador, to whom I had a letter of introduction, from a particular friend of his, and who received me vvath great politeness. His apartments were handsome,- and looked into some beautiful gardens. Amongst the english, who were at this time in; Paris,, a little preju- dice existed against the representative of the british monarch, from a reason, which within the jurisdiction of the lord mayor of London and. of most corporate towns in Eng- land, will be considered to- carry considerable weight. The envoy did not celebrate the late birthday of his sovereign by a jolly, and convivial dinner. The fact was, Mr. M -, who by the sudden return of Mr. J: , became unex- pectedly invested with the dignity of an ambassador, was in constant expectation of being recalled,, to make room for the intejidcd appointment of lord. W to the consular eourtj. in consequence of which,, he had not prepared for the display of those splendid hospitalities, which, on such occasions,, always distinguish the tabic of a. british. house of embassy.. . . ' . On a Sundtiy evening, I went with a party to Tivoll, a favourite place of amusement with the parisians. . At the en- trance we found, as at all the public places, a guard of horse. Xtll. 135 TIVOLI. CHAP, horse, and foot. The admission is twenty sols. The even- ing was very fine. We passed immense crowds of people, who were flocking to the same place. Amongst them were many elegant, well dressed women, wholly unattended by gentlemen, a circumstance by no means unusual in Paris. This place seemed to be raised by the magic touch of en- chantment. We entered upon gravelled walks, which were cut through little winding, and intersecting hillocks of box; those which formed the sides were surmounted by orange trees, which presented a beautiful colonnade ; immediately after we had passed them, v/e entered an elegant treillage of honeysuckles, roses, and eglantine, which formed the grand entrance to the garden. Here a most animated scene of festivity opened upon us. On one side were rope dancers, people riding at the rirtg, groups of persons play- ing at shuttlecock, which seemed to be the favourite, and I may add, the most ridiculous diversion; on the other side, were dancers, tumblers, mountebanks, and parties, all with gay countenances, seated in little bowers enjoying lemonade, and ices. In the centre as we advanced, were about three hundred people, who were dancing the favourite waltz. This dance was brought from Germany, where, fro77i its nature, the partners are always engaged lovers; but the french, who think that nothing can be blamable which is susceptible of elegance, have introduced the german dance, without ad- hering to the german regulation. The attitudes of the waltz are very graceful, but they would not altogether ac- cord with english female notions of delicacy. At a late ~ fashionable TIVOLI. 137 fashionable parisian ball, a gentleman present was requested chap. XIII by the lady of the house, to waltz with a friend of hers, '^ who was without a partner. The person of this neglected fair, was a little inclined to the meagre. The gallant, with- out the least embarrassment, declined, observing, " Ah ! ma " chere Madame qu'exigez vous de moi, ne savez vous pas '^ qu'elle n'a pomt de seinr" In the middle of the plat- form of the dancers, a very fine full band was playing. At the end of this raised stage, a very capacious indian marquee was erected, which was beautifully illuminated with varie- gated lamps, and mider its broad canopy, a large concourse of people was seated, some were enjoying conversation, some were playing at buillotte, drinking coffee, &c. ; behind this building, was a noble corinthian temple, from the doors of which, were covered trellis walks, leading to spa- cious gardens, which were formed to display the different tastes of the english, french, and dutch nations, whose re- spective names they bore. These gardens are intersected by little canals, upon which several persons were amusing themselves v/ith the diversion of canoe racins:. The whole was illuminated by large patent reflecting lamps, which shed a lustre almost as brilliant as the t2 chap. CHAPTER XIV. Convent of blue Nuns. — Duchesse de Biron. — T/ie bloody Key. — Courts of Justice. — Public Library. — Gobelines. — Miss Lin- zvood. — Garden of Pla^its. — French Accommodation. — Boot Cleaners. — Cat and Dog Shearers. • — Monsieur S and Family. CHAP. 1 HE cnglish convent, or as it is called, the convent of XIV. i_ blue nuns, in the Rue de St. Victoire, is the only establish- ment of the kind, which throughout the republic, has sur- vived the revolution. To what cause its exclusive protec- tion is attributable, is not, I believe correctly known. But though this spot of sacred seclusion, has escaped the final stroke of extermination, it has sustained an ample share of the general desolation. During the time of tcrrour, it was converted into the crovv^ded prison of the female nobi- lity, who were here confined, and afterwards dragged from its cloisters, and butchered by the guillotine, or the daggers of assassins. I had a letter of introduction to Mrs. S , one of the sisterhood, a lady of distinguished family in England. I found her in the refectory. A dignified dejec- tion overspread her countenance, and her figure seemed much emaciated by the scenes of horrour through which she had passed. She informed me, that when the nuns were in -^ state of arrestation by the order of Robespierre, the con- ^^.i' V vent X m DUCHESSE DE BIRON, " 141 vent was so crowded with prisoners, that they were obliged chap. to eat their wretched meals in three different divisions. The ^^^^ phices of the unhappy beings wlio were led off to execu- tion, were immediately filled by fresh Tictims. Amono'st those who suffered, was the beautiful vouns duchesse de Biron, said to be one of the loveliest women of the frcnch court. Her fate was singular, and horrible. One morning, two of the assistant executioners came into one of the rooms, and called upon the female citizen Biron to come forward, meaning the old duchesse de Biron, the mother, who was here immured with her daughter ; some one said, which of them do you require? The hell-hounds replied, " Our order was for one only, but as there are two, '* we will have both, diat there may be no errour." The mother and daughter were taken away, locked senseless in each others arms. When the cart which carried them ar- rived at the foot of the scaffold, the chief executioner looked at his paper, which contained a list of his victims, and saw the name of only one Biron; the assistants in- formed him that they found two of that name in the con- - vent, and to prevent mistake, they had brought both. The principal, with perfect sang froid, said it was all well, wrote with ^ pencil the article " les" before the name Biron, to which he added an s, and immediately beheaded bothllL Mrs. S led m£ to the cliapel, to show me the havoc which the unspalring impious hands of the revolution had ther^ produced. She put into my liand an immense massy > J^ey 142 BLOODY KEY. CHAP, key to open the door of the choir. " That key," said she, "^^^' " was made for the master-key of the convent, by the order *' of Robespierre. In the time of tcrrour, our gaoler wore " it at his belt. A thousand times has my soul sunk " within me, when it loudly pushed the bolt of the lock *' aside. MHien the door opened, it was either a signal " to prepare for instant death to some of those who were " within, or for the gloomy purpose of admitting new " victim's." When \v^e entered the chapel, my surprise and abhorrence were equally excited. The windows were beaten through, the hangings were flapping in the wind, the altar was shattered in pieces and prostrate, the pavement was every where torn up, and the caves of the dead were still yawning upon us. From their solemn and hallowed depths, the mouldering relics of the departed had been raised, by torch hght, and heaped in frightful piles of unfinished decay against the walls, for the purpose of converting the lead, which contained these wretched fragments of mortality, -into balls for the musketry of the revolution. The gardens behind the chapel must have been once very pleasant, but they then had the appearance of a wilderness. The painful un- certainty of many years, had occasioned the neglect and ruin in which I saw them. Some of the nuns were read- ing upon shattered seats, under overgrown bowers, and others were walking in the melancholy shade of neglected ' avenues. The effect of the whole was gloomy and sorrow^- ful, and fully confirmed the melancholy recital which I re- ceived from Mrs. S . Bonaparte, it is said, intends to* confirm COURTS OF JUSTICE. — NATIONAL LIBRARY. 143 confirm to these nuns their present residence, hy an act of chap. XIV government. ' Upon leaving tlie convent I visited the seats of cassation, and justice, in the architectural arrangement of which, I saw but Uttle worthy of minute notice, except the perfect ^ accommodation which pervades all the french buildings, which are appropriated to the administration of the laws. The hall of the first cassation, or grand court of appeal,, is very fine. The judges wear elegant costumes, and were, as well as the advocates, seated upon chairs, which were constructed to imitate the seats of roman magistracy, and had a good eftect. I was informed that the whole of the ornamental arrangement was designed by David. From the courts of justice, I went to the second national library, which is very noble and large, and has a valuable collection of books. Several students were arranged with great silence and decorum, at long tables. In one apart- - ment is a very large, and ingenious model of Rome in a glass case, and another of a frigate. Upon leaving the library I proceeded to the Gobelins, so called from one (jobel, a noted dyer at Rheims, who settled here in the reign of Francis I. This beautiful manu- factory has a crowd of visitors every day. Upon the walls of the galleries the tapestry is suspended, which exhibits very exquisite copies of various historical paintings, of which there are some very costly and beautiful specimens. The artists work behind the frame, where the original from which they copy is placed. The whole is a very expen- sive 144 GOBELINES. MISS LINWOOD. CHAP. sive national establishment, much of its production is prc- ^^^* served for presents to foreign princes, and some of it is dis- posed of by public sale. Upon the comparison between the works of the Gobe- lins and the beautiful works of Miss Lin\^'ood, I could not help feeling a little degree of pride to observe that my in- genious countrywoman did not appear to suffer by it. Too much praise cannot be bestowed upon the tasteful paintings of lier exquisite needle. This elegant minded woman has manifested by her charming exhibition, that great genius is not always separated from great labour, and unwearied per- severance. From the Gobelins I visited the garden of plants, which is considered to be the largest, and most valuable botanical col- lection in Europe, and was founded by the celebrated Buffon. The garden is laid out into noble walks, and beds containing the rarest plants from all parts of the world, each of which is neatly labelled for the use of the students. On the right of the entrance is a park containing all sorts of deer, and on the left are vast hothouses and greenhouses; in the centre, enclosed in iron lattice work, is a large pond for the re- ception of foreign aquatic animals, very near which is a large octagon experimental beehive, about ten^feet high, and at the end, near the banks of the Seine, is a fine menagerie, in which, amongst other beasts, tliere are some noble lions. Many of the animals have separate houses, and gardens to range in. Adjoining is the park of the elephant. This stu- pendous animal, from the ample space in which he moves, b CAT AND DOG SHEARERS. '^ 145 is seen to great advantage, and is considered to be the largest chap. of Ilis species in Europe. Near the entrance, on the right, ^ is the museum of natural curiosities, the collection of which is very Valuable, and admirably arranged. There is here a fine giraffe, or camelopard, of an amazing height, stuffed. This surprising animal is a native of Ethiopia, and some other parts of Africa, and has scarcely ever been seen in Europe;is m\ From the garden of plants, I made all possible dispatch to Madame C 's, in the Boulevard Italien, where I was engaged to dinner. Upon crossing the Pont Neuf, where there are a number of litrie stalls erected, the owners of which advertise upon little boards, which are raised upon poles, that they possess ex- traordinary talents for shearing dogs and cats; I could not help stopping and laughing most heartily to observe the follow- ing address to the public from one of these canine and gri- malkin functionaries : " Monin, tondit et coupe " les chiens la chatte *♦ et sa femme — — ^^bfiU -?? « Thy merits shall impede her course. For grace and nature gain in thee, A chaste, decisive victory* From the general wreck of property Monsieur S has been fortunate enough to save a considerable portion of his former fortune, A similar favourable circumstance has, in general, rewarded the fortitude and constancy of those who, in the political storm, refused to seek a dastard safety by flight. Influenced by the reputation of the integrity, ta- lents, and experience of Monsieur S , the first consul has deservedly placed him at the head of the national ac- counts, which he manages with great advantage, and honour to the government. I was pressed to make this charming house my home. Upon a noble terrace, which communi- cated with the drawing room, and commanded a view of all the gayety, and fashion; of the Italien Boulevard^ which Hiaved ^^^. i'tU* MONS. S , AND FAMILY. 14-9 moved below us, in the circle of some of the most charm- chap. XIV, ing people of Paris, we used to enjoy the refreshing coolness ^ of the evening, the graceful unpremeditated dance, or the sounds of enchanting music. In this happy spot all parties assembled. Those who had been divided by the ferocity of politics, here met in amiable intercourse. I have in the same room observ^ed, the once pursuing republican conqueror, in social converse with the captive vendeean general, who Ai.no had submitted to his prowess, and to the government. The ' ' '' sword was not merely sheathed — it was concealed in flowers. To please, and to be pleased; to charm^ and to enlighten, by interchanges of pleasantry, and politeness, and talents, and acquirements, seemed alone to occupy the generous minds of this charming society. The remembrance of the hours which I passed under this roof, will afford my mind delight, as long as the faculty of memory remains, or until high honour, and munificent hospitality have lost their value, and genius and beauty, purity and elegance have no longer any at- tractions. CHAP, CHAPTER XV. Civility of a Sentinel — The Hall of the Legislative Assembly. — British House of Commons, — Captain Bergeret, — The Temple, — Sir Sydney"" Smith's Escape, — Colonel Phillipeaux, CHAP. On^E morning, as I was entering the grand court of the hall ' of the Legislative Assembly, I was stopped by a sentry. I told him I was an Englishman. He politely begged my pardon, and requested me to pass, and called one of the housekeepers to show me the apartments. This magnificent pile is in the Fauxbourg St. Germain, and was formerly the palace of the Bourbons. After passing through a suite of splendid apartments, I entered, through lofty folding doors, into the hall, where the legislators assemble. It is a very spacious semicircular room, and much resembles, in its arrange- ments, the appearance of a splendid theatre before '^the stage. The ascent to the seat of the president is by a flight of light marble steps ; the facing of his bureau is composed of the most costly marble, richly carved. On each side of the pre- sident's chair are seats for the secretaries ; and immediately below them is the tribune, into which the orator ascends to address the House. On each side of the seat of the president are antique statues of eminent patriots and orators, which are placed in niches in the wall. Under the tribune, upon the centre of the floor, is the altar of the country, upon which, in marble, is represented the book of the laws, resting upon ♦'- branches THE HALL OP THE LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY. 151 branches of olive. Behind it, upon semicircular seats, the cpiap. legislators sit, at the back of whom are the boxes of the em- ^^' bassadors, and officers of state, and immediately above them, within a colonnade of Corinthian pillars, the public are ad- mitted. Round the upper part of the cornice, a beautiful festoon of lilac coloured cloth, looped up with rich tassels, is suspended, for the purpose of correcting the vibration of the voice. The whole is very superb, and has cost the nation an immense sum of money. The principal housekeeper asked me ** whether our speakers had such a place to declaim in," I told him, " that we had very great orators in England, but that ** they were content to speak in very little places." He laughed, and observed, " that frenchmen never talked to so much ad- *' vantage as when their eye was pleased." ^ : This man I found had been formerly one of the door keepers of the national assembly, and was present when, after having been impeached by Billaud, Panis, and their colleagues, Tal- lien discharged the pistol at Robespierre, whom he helped to support, until the monster was finally dispatched by the guil- lotine, on the memorable 9th of Thermidor. The french are amazingly fond of finery and stage effect. The solicitude which always first manifested itself after any politi- cal change in the course of the revolution, was the external de- coration of each new puppet who, arrayed in the brief authority of the fleeting moment, was permitted to " play his fantastic " tricks before high Heaven." The poor battered ark of government was left overturned, under the protection of an escort of assassins, in the ensan- guined 152 BRITISH HOUSE OF COMMONS. CHAP. guined mud, upon the reeking bodies of its former, headless, XV, •! • bearers, until its new supporters had adjusted the rival pre- tensions of silk and satin, and had consulted the pattern book of the laceman in thechoice of their embroidery. On one side of the arch which leads into the antiroom of the legislative assembly, are suspended patterns and designs for tickets of admission to the sitting, elegantly framed, and near the same place, in a long gallery which leads to the dressing-rooms of the legislators, are boxes which contain the senatorial robes of the members. The meetings of our house of commons would inspire more awe, and veneration, if more attention was paid to decorum, and external decoration. A dignified and manly magnificence would not be unsuitable to the proceedings of the sanctuary of british laws, and the seat of unrivalled elo- quence. What would a perfumed french legislator say, ac- customed to rise in the rustling of embroidered silks, and gracefully holding in his hand, a cap of soft and showy plumes, to address himself to alabaster statues, glittering lustres, grecian chairs, festoons of drapery, and an audience of beings tricked out as fine as himself, were he to be suddenly trans- ported into a poor and paltry room, meanly lighted, badly ' ventilated, and inconveniently arranged, and to be told that, in that spot, the representatives of the first nation in the world, legislated for her siibjects? What would he say, were he to see and hear in the mean attire of jockeys and mechanics, such orators as Greece and Rome never saw or heard in the -days of their most exalted glory ; unfolding with the penetra- tion of a subordinate Providence, the machinations of a dark J and 1>:.'?-^ CAPTAIN BERGERET, r 5niT 153 and deep conspiracy, erecting elaborate laws to shelter the chap. good, against the enemies of repose, or hurUng the thunder ^^' of their eloquence against the common foes of their country. The astonished frenchman would very likely say, " I always " tliought that the english were a strange set of beings, but " they now exceed the powers of my comprehension, they " can elicit wit in the midst of gloom, and can say such '* things in a plain unbrushed coat of blue cloth, as all the " robes, plumes, and finery of the republic, in her gaudy ** halls of deliberation, cannot inspire." From the legislative assembly I went to pay my respects to the gallant captain Bergeret, to whom I had letters of intro- duction. It will be immediately remembered, that this distin- guished hero, in the Virgin ie, displayed the most undaunted .courage, when she was engaged by sir Edward Pellew, in the Indefatigable, to whose superior prowess and naval knowledge, he was obliged to strike the tricolour flag. His bravery and inte- grity have justly entitled him to the admiration and lasting friend- ship of his noble conqueror, and to the esteem of the british na- tion. When sir Sidney Smith was confined in the Temple, and captain Bergeret a prisoner in England, the latter was sent to France upon his parole, to endeavour to effect the exchange of sir Sidney. The french government, which was then under the direction of some of the basest and meanest of her tyrants, refused to listen to the proposal ; and at the same time resisted the return of their own countryman. ^ The gallant Bergeret was resolved to preserve his word of ^ honour unsullied, or to perish in the attempt. Finding all. his X efforts tj^\^ THE TEMPLE. SIR SIDNEY SMITH'S ESCAPE. ' ' CHAP. efforts to obtain tl-ie liberation of the illustrious captive un- ^^' availing, menaced with death if he departed, and invited by promised command and promotion if he remained, he con- trived to quit his own country by stealth, and returned a volun- tary exile to his generous and confiding conquerors. From captain B 's hotel I went to the Temple, so cele- brated in the gloomy history of the revolution. It stands in the Rue du Temple, in the Fauxbourg of that name. The entrance is handsome, and does not much impress the idea of the approach to a place of such confinement. Over the gates is a pole, supporting a dirty and tattered bonnet rouge, of which ^ species of republican decoration there are very few now to be seen in Paris. The door was opened to me by the principal gaoler, whose predecessor had been dismissed on account of his imputed connivance in the escape of sir Sidney Smiths His appearance seemed fully to qualify him for his savage office, and to insure his superiors against all future apprehension, of a remission of duty by any act of humanity, feeling, or com- miseration. He told me, that he could not permit me to ad- vance beyond the lodge, on account of a peremptory order ■which he had just received from government. From this place 1 had a full command of the walk and prison, the latter of which is situated in the centre of the walls. He pointed out to me the window of the room in which the royal sufferers languished. As the story of sir Sidney Smith's escape from this prison has been involved in some ambiguity, a short recital of it will, perhaps, not prove uninteresting. After several motitbs had rolled away, since the gates of his ^ prison , .WA311J" - SIR SIDNEY SMITH'S ESCAPE. 155 prison had first closed upon the britlsh hero, he observed that chap. a lady who lived in an upper apartment on the opposite side ' of the street, seemed frequently to look tovvards that part of the prison in which he was confined. As often as he observed her, he played some tender air upon his flute, by which, and by imitating every motion which she made, he at length suc- ceeded in fixing her attention upon him, and had the happi- ness of remarking that she occasionally observed him with a glass. One morning when he saw that she was looking atten- tively upon him in this manner, he tore a blank leaf from an old mass book which was lying in his cell, and with the soot of the chimney, contrived, by his finger, to describe upon it, in a large character, the letter A, which he held to the window to be viewed by his fair sympathizing observer. After gazing upon it for some little time, she nodded, to show that she understood what he meant, sir Sidney then touched the top of the first bar of the grating of his window, which he wished ier to consider as the representative of the letter A, the second B, and so on, until he had formed, from the top of the bars, a corresponding number of letters ; and by touching the middle, and bottom parts of them, upon a line with each other, he easily, after having inculcated the first impression of his wishes, completed a telegraphic alphabet. The process of communi- cation was, from its nature, very slow, but sir Sidney had the happiness of observing, upon forming the first word, that this excellent being, who beamed before him like a guardian angel, seemed " completely to comprehend it, which she ex- pressed by an assenting movement of the head. Frequently < " ' X 2 obliged 156 SIR SIDNEY smith's ESCAPE. COLONEL PHELIPEAUX. CHAP. obliged to desist from this tacit and tedious intercourse, from . ^ the dread of exciting the curiosity of the gaolers, or his fellow prisoners, who were permitted to walk before his window, sir Sidney occupied several days in communicating to his un- known friend, his name and quality, and imploring her to procure some unsuspected royalist of consequence and address sufficient for the undertaking, to effect his escape ; in the achievement of which he assured her, upon his word of ho^ nour, that whatever cost might be incurred, would be amply reimbursed, and that the bounty and gratitude of his country would nobly remunerate those who had the talent, and bravery to accomplish it. By the same means he enabled her to draw confidential and accredited bills, for considerable sums of money, for the promotion of the scheme, which she applied with the most perfect integrity. Colonel Phellpeaux was at this time at Paris; a military man of rank, and a secret royalist, most devoutly attached to the fortunes of the exiled family of France, and to those who supported their cause. He had been long endeavouring to bring to maturity, a plan for facilitating their restoration, but which the loyal adherent, from a series of untoward and uncontrollable circumstances, began to de- spair of accomplishing. The lovely deliverer of sir Sidney, applied to this distinguished character, to whom she was known, and stated the singular correspondence which had taken place between herself and the heroic captive in the Temple. Phe- llpeaux, who was acquainted with the fame of sir Sidney, and chagrined at the failure of his former favourite scheme, embraced the present project with a sort of prophetic enthu- siasm- COLONEL PHELIPEAUX. 157 siasm, by which he hoped to restore, to the brltlsh nation, chap. one of lier greatest heroes, who, by his skill and valour, might ' once more impress the common enemy with dismay, augment the glory of his country, and cover himself with the laurels of future victory. Intelligent, active, cool, daring, and insi- nuating, colonel Phelipeaux immediately applied himself to bring to maturity, a plan at once suitable to his genius, and interesting to his wishes. To those whom it was necessary to employ upon the occasion, he contrived to miite one of the clerks of the minister of the police, who forged his signa- ture with exact imitation, to an order for removing the body of sir Sidney, from the Temple to the prison of the Coo- ciergerie: after this was accomplished, on the day after that oa which the inspector of gaols was to visit the Temple and Con- ciergerie, a ceremony, which is performed once a month in Paris, two gentlemen of tried courage and address, who were previously instructed by colonel Phelipeaux, disguised as offi- cers of the marechaussee, presented themselves In a fiacre at the Temple, and demanded the delivery of sir Sidney, at the same time showing the forged order for his removal. This the gaoler attentively perused and examined, as well as the minister's signature. Soon after the register of the prison in- formed sir Sidney of the order of the directory, upon hearing which, he at first appeared to be a little disconcerted, upon which the pseud oofKicers gave him every assurance of the honour and mild intentions of the government towards him, sir Sidney seemed more reconciled, packed up his clothes, took leave of his fellow prboners, and distributed litde tokens of 15$ - COLONEL PHELIPEAUX. CHAP, of his gratitude to those servants of the prison, from whom he ' had experienced nidulgencles. Upon the eve of their de- parture, the register observed, that four of the prison guard should accompany them. This arrangement menaced the whole plan with immediate dissolution. The oiSicers, without betraying the least emotion, acquiesced in the propriety of the measure, and gave orders for the men to be called out, when, as if recollecting the rank and honour of their illustrious pri- soner, one of them addressed sir Sidney, by saying, "citizen, ** you are a brave officer, give us your parole, and there is no ** occasion for an escort." Sir Sidney replied, that he would pledge his faith, as an officer, to accompany them, without resistance, wherever they chose to conduct him. Kot a look or movement betrayed the intention of the party. Every thing was cool, well-timed, and natural. They entered a fiacre, which, as is usual, was brought for the purpose of removing him, in which he found changes of clothes, false passports, and money. The coach moved with an accustomed pace, to the Faubourg St. Germain, where they alighted, arid parted in different directions. Sir Sidney met colonel Phelipeaux at the appointed spot of rendezvous. The project was so ably planned and conducted, that no one but the party concerned was acquainted with the escape, until near a month had elapsed, when the inspector paid his next periodical visit. What pen can describe the sensations of two such men as sir Sidney and Phelipeaux, wlien they first beheld each other in safety ? Heaven befriended the generous and gallant exploit. Sir Sidney and his noble friend, reached the ►•*»«-, COLONEL PHELIPEAUX. 'J 59 the french coast wholly unsuspected, and committing tliem- chap. selves to their God, and to the protective genius of brave men, '^ put to sea in an open boat, and were soon afterwards discovered by an english cruising frigate, and brought in safety to the british shores. The gallant Phelipeaux soon afterwards accompanied sir Sidney in the Tigre to Acre, where, overwhelmed by the fatigue of that extraordinary campaign, in which he supported a distinguished part, and the noxious influence of a sultry climate, operating upon a delicate frame, he expired in the arms of his illustrious friend, who attended him to his grave, and shed the tears of gratitude and friendship over his ho- noured and lamented obsequies. But ere the dying Pheli- peaux closed his eyes, he received the rewards of his generous enterprise. He beheld the repulsed legions of the republic, flying before the british banners, and the irresistible prowess of his valiant companion ; he beheld the distinguished being, whom he had thus rescued from a dungeon, and impending destruction, by an act of almost romantic heroism, covered with the unparticipated glory, of having overpowered a leader, who, renowned, and long accustomed to conquest, saw, for the first time, his invincible troops give way ; who, inflamed to desperation, deemed the perilous exposure of his person neces- sary, to rally them to the contest, over bridges of their slaugh- tered comrades, but who at length was obliged to retire from the fi^eld of battle, and to leave to he heroic sir Sidney, the exclusive exultation of announcing to his grateful and elated country. 160 COLONEL PHELIPEAUX. CHAP. country, that he had fought, and vanquished the laurelled ^^' conqueror of Italy, and the bold invader of Egypt. Sir Sidney has no vices to conceal behind his spreading and . imperishable laurels. His public character is before the approving world. That peace which his sword has accelerated, has afforded us an undisturbed opportunity of admiring his achievements in the field, and of contemplating his conduct in the retired avenues of private life, in which his deportment is without a stain. In him there is every thing to applaud, and nothing to forgive. Yet thus glorious in public, and thus unsullied in pri- vate, the conqueror of Bonaparte, and the saviour of the east, owes the honours, ivJdch he adorns, to foreign and distant powers. To the grateful government of his own country, he is in- debted for an ungracious paltry annuity, inadequate to the display of ordinary consequence, and wholly unequal to the suitable support of that dignity, which ought for ever to dis- tinguish such a being from the mass of mankind. The enemies of sir Sidney, for envy furnishes every great man with his quota of such indirect eulogists, if they should honour these pages with a perusal, may, perchance, en- deavour to trace the approving warmth with which I have spoken of him, to the enthusiasm of a friendship dazzled, and undiscriminating ; but I beg to assure them, that the fame of sir Sidney is better known to me than his person, and that his noble qualities have alone excited the humble tribute SIR SIDNEY SMITH. 161 tribute which Is here offered to one, for whom delighted chap. Nature, in the language of our immortal bard, ^^' might stand up. " and say to all the world, this is a man- lii liiv-J. '^ihiJt.rA y CHAP. XVI. CHAPTER XVI. A fashio7iable Poem.-^Frere Richart.^ Religion.-- Hdtel des Inva- lides. — Hall of Victory. — Enemies' Colours. — Sulky Appearance of an English Jack and Ensign. — Indecorum. — The aged Cap- tain. — Military School. -^ Champ de Mars. — The Garden of Mousseawc, CHAP. 1 HE conversation whilst I was at Paris, was much engaoed by a poem, describing the genius and progress of Christianity written in imitation of the style of Ossian, which excited very considerable curiosity. From the remarks of some shrewd ac- quaintances of mine, who had perused the work, I learnt that the principles of the poem seemed strongly tinctured with the bewildered fancies of a disordered mind, conveyed in very heavy prosaic blank verse. " It was the madness of poetry, ** without the inspiration." This composition may be considered as a curiosity, from other reasons than those which mere criticism affords. The poem was bad, the readers were many. The subject was sa- cred, the author a reputed atheist, and the profits which it produced exceeded two thousand pounds sterling. The for- tunate writer relieved himself from the jaws of famine by this strauge incomprehensible eulogy on the charms and ad- vancement of Christianity, which has been received in Paris, with a sort of fashionable frenzy. Another pseudobard has announced his intention very shortly of issuing from the press, a work A FASHIONABLE POEM. — FRERE RICHART. 1^3 [a work which he conceives will be more saleable and a greater chap, • • • • • • XVI favourite with the public, in which he intends ironically to ' • combat the doctrine of the Trinity, by gravely resembling it to the Deity taking snuff between two looking glasses, so that when he sneezes, two resemblances of him are seen to sneeze also, and yet that there are not three sneezers, but one sneezer. Some other outlines of this work were imparted to me at Paris, but the pen turns with disgust and detestation, from such low and nauseous profanation. I have only condescended to mention the composition, and the last anecdote, to show how much the world is deluded, by the received opinion that the french are become a new race of exemplary devotees. The recoil from atheism to enthusiasm, is not unusual, but the french in general have not, as yet, experienced this change. That they are susceptible of extraordinary transitions, their history and revolution have sufficiently manifested. In the Journal de Paris, written in the reigns of Charles VI and VII, is preserved rather a curious account of the velocity with which religious zeal has, in former periods, been excited. " On the ** 4th day of April, 1429,** says the journal, " the duke of " Burgundy came to Paris, with a very fine body of knights ** and esquires ; and eight days afterwards there came to Paris, " a cordelier, by name Frerc Richart, a man of great prudence, " very knowing in prayer, a giver of good doctrine to edify ** his neighbour, and was so successful, that he who had not " seen him, was bursting with envy against those who had. " He was but one day in Paris, without preaching. He began Y 2 " his I64f .TitA FRERE RICHART. RELIGION. CHAP. '* his sermon about five o'clock in the morning, and con- ■VTT T ' " tinued preaching till ten or eleven o'clock, and there " were always between five and six thousand persons to hear " him preach. This cordelier preached on St. Mark's Day, '* attended by the like number of persons, and on their ** return from his sermon, the people of Paris were so turned, " and moved to devotion, that in three or four hours time, " there were more than one hundred fues lighted, in which " they burnt their chess boards, their back gammon tables, imd " their packs of cards.'-, rrrj \ ,f}o^*t'-«pTofff »ffO«*> rrcA To this sort of fanaticism, the parisians are unquestionably not arrived. A more eloquent man than the Frere Richart, must appear amongst theni, before such meliorations as are recorded in the Paris journal, can be effected in the dissolute and uncontrolled habits of that gay and voluptuous city. I do not mean, from any previous remark which I have made, to infer that there are not many good and very pious people in France, and it has been a favourable circumstance to the ancient religion of France, that the revolution never attempted any reform in it, or to substitute another mode of worship. Tbat great political change In the ebullition of its fury, prostrated the altars of the old church, without raising others of a new, or improved construction. It presented a hideous rebellion against the glorious author of all good, and declared an ' indiscriminate war of extermination against his ministers and followers, and every principle of the Gospel and morality. Every form of fiiith, every mode of adoration, fell indiscri- minately under the proscriptions of its unsparing wrath. >> i^ / The RELIGION. \65 The towering abbey and humble oratory, were alike swept chap. • • XVI away in the general tornado, and mingled then* rums toge- * ther. But the race of the good were not all expelled from this scene of havoc and outrage. The voice of piety still found a passage to her God. The silent prayer pierced through the compact covering of the dungeon, and ascended to Heaven. Within the embowering unsearchable recesses of the soul, far beyond the reach of revolutionary persecution, the pure unappalled spirit of devotion erected her viewless temple, in secret magnificence, sublime, and unassailable ! The child who had never heard the bell of the sabbath sound, who. had never beheld the solemn ceremonies of autho- rized adoration, was told that those awful and splendid piles, which filled his eyes with wonder, and his mind with instinc- tive reverence, were raised for other purposes than those of becoming auxiliary to the ferocity of war. That genius and taste, and toil and cost, had not thus expended their un- rivalled powers, and lavished their munificent resources, in erecting gothic magazines of gunpowder, and saxon sheds for the accommodation of atheistic fabricators of revolutionary cannon balls. The young observer in private, and by stealth imbibed, from parental precept or example, the sentiment of a national religion, suppressed, not extinguished, or in the gloomy ab- sence of all indications of it, remained unsolicited by any rival mode of worship to bestow his apostacy upon an alien creed. Thus the minds of the rising generation, who were engaged in favour of the catholic persuasion, during the *. ..-.S|C^ frightful -^:,. 1^^ MONSIEUR CHARLES. CHAP, frightful period of its long denunciation, by stolen, secluded ^^^' and unfinished displays of its spirit and form, contemplated its return with animated elation, or beheld its approach, unimpressed with those doubts or prejudices which religious, as well as secular competitions, very frequently excite ; in that auspicious hour, when the policy, if not the piety of a powerful govern- ment, restored it to the French people. The subject is highly interesting; but I must resign it to abler pens for more ample discussion. I was much gratified by being presented to the celebrated philosopher Mons. Charles, by Madame S . He has a suite of noble apartments in the Louvre, which have been bestowed upon him by the government, as a grateful reward for his having presented to the nation his magnificent collection of philosophical apparatus. He has also, in consideration of his ability and experience, been constituted the principal lecturer on philosophy. In these rooms his valuable and costly donation is arranged. In the centre of the dome of the. first apartment, called the Hall of Electricity, is suspended the car of the first balloon which was inflated with inflammable air, in which he and his brother ascended in the afternoon of the 1st of Decem- ber, 1783, in which they continued in the air for an hour and three quarters ; and after they had descended, Mons. C rose alone to the astonishing height of 10,500 feet. In the same room are immense electrical machines and batteries, some of which had been presented to him by Madame S . In this room, amongst many other fanciful figures, which are used for the purpose of enlivening the solemnity of a philo- sophical i OPTICAL ILLUSION. ' J61 sophical lecture by exciting sentiments of innocent gayety, was chap, a little Cupid. The tiny god, with his arrow in his hand, ^^^' was insulated upon a throne of glass, and was charged with that electric fluid which not a litde resembles the subtle spirit of his nature. The youngest daughter of Madame S , who ' accompanied us, was requested to touch it. In a moment it discharged its penetrating spark — ** Oh ! how that little god ** has alarmed me !*' said the recoiling fair one, whose youthful countenance surprise had imbued with new beauties ; " but yet," said she, recovering herself, " he does not hurt,'* This little sally may be considered as a specimen of that playful sprightliness which i so much the characteristic of the frencli female. In the centre of another room, dedicated to optics, as we entered, we saw a beautiful nosegay in a vase, which appeared . , to be composed of the rarest flowers. I approached it with an intention of inhaling its fragrance, when, lo ! my hand passed through it. It was an exquisite optical illusion. "Ah ]" said my elegant and moralising companion, Madame S , smiling, " of such flowers has Happiness composed her wreath : it is thus she gladdens with it the eye of Hope i but the hand of Expectation can never grasp it.'* The graceful moral deserves a more lasting record than it will find in these few and perisliablc pages* In tlie other rooms are all sorts of apparatus for trying ex- periments in the various branches of that department of science, QVer which Mons. C- so ably presides. Ihe merit o£ Mous. C . has. bq rival but in his mo- desty. 168 ST. ROCQUE — HOTEL DES INVALIDES. 1 CHAP. desty. Considering the rank and estimation which he bears ^ ^' in the republic, his external appearance is singularly un- assuming. I have been with him in the gardens of the Thuilleries, when they were thronged with the fashion and gayety of Paris, where he has appeared in a suit of plain brown cloth, an old round hat with a little national cockade in it, under which he presented a countenance full of character, talent and animation. In this homely puritan garb, he excited more respectful curiosity, wherever he moved, than some generals who paraded before us in dresses upon which the tailor and embroiderer had long laboured, and who added to their stature by laced hats entirely filled with gaudy buoyant plumes. From Mons. Charles we went to the church of St. Rocque, in the Rue St. Honor6. As we entered, the effect of a fme painting of our Saviour crucified, upon which the sun was shining with great glory, placed at the extremity of the church, and seen through several lessening arches of faint, increasing shade, was very grand. This church has been more than once the scene of revolutionary carnage. Its elegant front is much disfigured, and the doors are perforated, in a great number of places, by the ball of cannon and the shot of musketry. Mass was performing in the church ; but we saw only few worshippers, and those were chiefly old women and little girls. From St. Rocque we proceeded to the Hotel dcs In^ valides, the chapel and dome of which are so justly cele- brated. The front is inferior to the military hospital at Chelsea, HOTEL DES INVALIDES -= — ENEMIES COLOURS. 1^9 Cfielsea, to which it bears some resemblance. The chapel is chap. converted into the Hall of Victory, in which, witli great taste, ^^^' are suspended, under descriptive medallions, the banners of the enemies of the republic, which have been taken during the late war, the numbers of which are immense. The same decoration adorns the pilasters and gallery at the vast, magnificent dome at the end of the hall. My eye was naturally occupied, immediately after we had entered, in searching amongst the most battered of the banners, for the british colours : at last I discovered the jack and ensign of an english man of war, pierced with shot-holes, and blackened with smoke, looking very sulky, and indignantly, amongst the finery, and tawdry tatters of Italian and turkish standards. AiXmi ^m . nO .• ,. - : . 1 1 ' z 2 When 17S THE AGED CAPTAIN MILITARY SCHOOL. CHAP. When we were just leaving the chapel^ we overheard a sim- - browned soldier, who had lost both his legs, observe to his com- panion, to whom he was explaining the colours, pointing to the banners of the turkish cavalry, the tops of whose staffs were surmounted with horses* tails, " Look at those ribbands ; they are not worthy of being worn when won." This military hospital is capable of accommodating 3,000 soldiers. The bedrooms, kitchens, refectory and outoffices are very capacious, and, what is rather unusual in France, clean and comfortable. The day before we were there, the first consul paid a visit to its veteran inhabitants. Amongst them, he recognised an old, and very brave soldier, whose exploits were the frequent theme of his aged comrades. The young general told him that he should die a captain, took him in his carriage to dine with him at Mai Maison, ^xesented him with a medallion of honour, and conferred upon him the rank of a captain, ia one of the most distinguished regiments. ' •' From this place we went to the military school adjoining. In which Bonaparte received the rudiments of that education which was destined to form the foundation of his future glory. The building is large and handsome, and is^ from a very natural sentiment, in high favour with the first consul. There is no- thing in it particular to describe. The grounds and gardens are very spacious and fine. In the front of the military school is the celebrated Champ de Mars, which is an immense flat space of ground. On each side are rising terraces of earth, and double rows of trees ; and at the further end, the river Seine flows. On days of great national celebrations, this vast plain GARDEN OF MOUSSEAU. T 173 plain is surrounded with Gobelins tapestry, statues, and chap. triumphal arches. After contemplating these objects of public ^^^' curiosity, we returned to Mons. S to dinner, where we met a large party of very pleasant people. Amongst them I was pleased with meeting a near relative of an able and upright minister of the republic, to whose unwearied labours the world is not a little indebted for the enjoyments of its present repose. - '' '>io7f ihitiw -^juil btnoi/ '^i After dinner we drove to the beautiful- garden, of Mousseau, formerly the property of the due d'Orleans. It is laid out with great taste, and delights the eye with the most romantic spe- cimens of improved rural beauty. It was originally designed by its detestable owner for other purposes- than those of affording to a vast and crowded city the innocent delights and recreations of retired and tasteful scenery. In the gloom of its groves, all sorts of horrible profanations were practised- by this monster and his midnight crew, at the head of whom was Legendre the Butcher. Every rank recess of prostitute pollution in Paris was ransacked to furnish materials for the celebration of their impure and impious orgies. The ode to Atheism, and the song of Blasphemy, were succeeded by the applauding yells of Drunkenness and Obscenity. At the time we visited this garden it belonged to the nation, and was open, on certain days, to well-dressed people. A few days afterwards, it was presented, as a mark of national esteem, to Cambaceres, the second consul. Here we rambled till the evening. The sun was setting. The nightingales were singing in great numbers. Not a cloud was 174 LINES TO MADEMOISELLE D. S . CHAP. to be seen. A breeze, blowing tbroiigh a plantation of roses, ^^^' refreshed us with its coolness and fragrance. In a sequestered part of this beautiful ground, under the embowering shades of Acacia trees, upon the ruins of a little temple, we seated our- selves, and were regaled by some charming italian duets, which were sung by Madame S and her lovely daughter, with the most enchanting pathos. I hope I shall be pardoned for introducing some lines which were written upon our returni by an enthusiastic admirer of merit and music. i(. TO MADEMOISELLE D. S- - •! In Mousseau's sweet arcadian dale, ..^ Fair Delphine pours the plaintive strain; ,v3/i She charms the list'ning nightingale. And seems th' enchantress of the plain. Blest be those lips, to music dear ! Sweet songstress ! never may they move But with such sounds to soothe the ear. And melt the yielding heart to love ! May sorrow never bid them pour * From the torn heart one suffering sigh. But be thy life a fragrant flow'r. Blooming beneath a cloudless sky. . ■ !> -.i4» J.J . .liJ CHAPTER XVII. ^ Curious Method of raising Hay. — Liicien Bojiapartc's Hdtel. — Opera. — Consular Box. — Madame Bonaparte's Box. — Feydeau Theatre. — Belle Vue. — Versailles, •— The Palace of the Petit Trianon. — *The Grounds, 1 HE people of Paris, who keep horses in stables at the chap. back of their houses, have a singular mode of keeping their ^^^^' hay in the lofts of their dwelling houses. At the top of a spacious and elegant hotel, is to be seen a projecting crane in the act of raising loads of winter provision for the stable. When I first saw this strange process, my surprise would scarcely have been increased, had I beheld the horse ascending after the hay. r*, ^*^*^.r»sr^,^' I must not forget to offer some little description of the opera, where, during my stay, through the politen^§s gf Madame H , I had free access to a private box. This spacious and splendid theatre is lighted from above by an immense circular lustre of patent lamps. The form of this brilliant light is in the antique taste, and it is said to have cost two thousand pounds sterling. The effect which it produces in the body of the theatre, and upon the scenery, is admirable. It prevents the sight from being divided, and distracted by girandoles. This establishment is upon so vast a scale, that government, which is the proprietor, is always a loser upon balancing the receipts and disbursements of each night. The stage 17(5 " OPERA CONSULAR BOX. CHAP, stage and its machinery have for many years occupied a ^^^^' great number of the subordinate classes of people, who, if not employed in this manner, would in all probability become burdensome, and unpleasant to the government. To this circumstance is attributable the superiority of the machinery, and scenery, over every other theatre which I ever saw. In the english theatres, my eye has often been oft^nded at the representations of the internal parts of houses, in which not .TAKJ a chair, or table is introduced, for the purpose of carrying -'_ on the ingenious deception. Ui)on the stage of the french opera, every scene has its appropriate furniture, and dis-^ tinctive appendages, which ar-e always produced as soon as the scene drops, by numerous attendants. From this atten-: tlon to the minute circumstances of the drama, the illusion becomes enchanting. The orchestra is very fine, and is com- posed of ninety eminent musicians. The corps de ballet consists of between eighty and ninety fine dancers, of whom Monsieur Deshayes is the principal. Hi« movements are more graceful, his agility more surprising, and his step more light, firm, and elastic, than those of any dancer whom I have ever seen. He is very justly coi^sidered to be the 'first in Europe. The first consul has a private box here, on one side of which, a lofty, hollow, decorative co- lumn rises, the flutes of which are open, and through which he views, X;neen, the audience and performers. The beholder might be almost inclined to think that this sur- prising man had borrowed from our immortal bard, his no- 13 r-** MADAME BONAPARTE'S BOX. — FEYDEAU THEATRE. tions of exciting the impression of dignity, by a rare, and well timed display of his person. '* Thus did I keep my person fresh, and new; «* My presence like a robe pontifical, " Ne'er seen but wondered at: and so my state '* Seldom, but sumptuous shewed, like a feast " And won by rareness such solemnity." 177 CHAP. XVII, Madame Bonaparte's box is on the left side of the stage, over the door, in which the hapless queen has frequently displayed her beautiful person to the enraptured audience. The Feydeau theatre is very elegant; and on account of its excellent arrangements, good performers, and exquisite machinery, is much resorted to, and is in general preferred to the fourteen other dramatic spectacles which, in this dis- sipated city, almost every night present their tribute of plea- sure to the gay, and delighted parisians. A frenchman once observed to me, that a Sunday in London was hor- rible, on account of there being no playhouses open at night ! The decorum and good manners which are even still observed in all the french places of public amusement, are very impressive, and agreeable. Horse and foot sol- diers are stationed at the avenues, to keep them clear, to prevent depredation, and to quell the first indications of po- pular commotion. I was much gratified by an excursion to Versailles, which had been some time planned by the charming family of the A A -s.' 178 "(;?»;, ^7; BELLE VUE. VERSAILLES. "'" CHAP. S *s. We set off early in the morning, in one of the XVII [_ government carnages, and after a delightful ride, through a very rich, and luxuriant country, of about twelve miles, the vast, and magnificent palace of Versailles, opened upon our view, at the end of a street nearly two miles long, lined on each side with noble hotels, and gardens. It was on a Sun- day, the day on which the palace is opened to the public. On the road, we passed several hundreds of persons in car- riages, cabrioles, or walking ; all with merry faces, in showy clothes, and adorned with bouquets, on their route to this spot of favourite delight. . About four miles from Paris we saw Belle Vue, formerly the residence of Mesdames ; soon afterwards we passed the noble palace, and park of St. Cloud, which was preparing for the reception of the first consul.-)-? >{■ At the entrance of the village of St. Cloud, on the left, after we had passed the bridge, we saw a very pretty house, and grounds, belonging to a tanner, who had amassed con- siderable wealth by a discovery of tanning leather in twen- ty-four hours, so as to render it fit for the currier. Whe- ther he possesses this faculty or not, I cannot from my own experience say, but I can venture to affirm, that the leather of France is very bad. In the village is a very noble porcelain manufactory, which unfortunately we had not time to inspect. Wliilst our horses were refreshing themselves with a little water, we were beset by the agents of the different hotels, and restaurateurs of Versailles, who presented us with little cards. VERSAILLES. 179 cards, announcing in a very pompous manner the superi- chap. ority of their employers accommodations. xvu. The stables of Versailles, to the right, and left, are from the designs of Mansart, in the form of a crescent, and have the appearance of princely residences. Here the late King kept in the greatest style six hundred of the finest horses. On the left of the grand gateway, is a military lodge for the, accommodation of cavalry. It represents in shape, an im-. mense turkish marquee. After we had passed the pallisades/ of the first court, we more distinctly saw this amazing pile of irregular buildings, which consists of the old castle, the new palaces, the houses of the ministers of state, and ser-, vants, two opera houses, the chapel, military schools, mu- seums, and the manufactory of arms, the whole of which are now consolidated, and form one palace. The beautiful pavement of black and white marble in the court yards, is much defaced, and their fountains are totally destroyed. , The first place we visited was the manufactory of small arms; the resident workmen in which exceed two thousand men. Here we saw all the ingenious process of construct- ing the musket, pistol, and sabre, of which there are an immense collection; and also several carbines, and swords of honour, intended as presents from the first consul to ofidcers and soldiers of distinguished merit. ' . . From the manufactory of small arms, we returned to the grand court, and entered a suite of rooms, which contain •- the relics of the former valuable cabinet of curiosities. Se- ciL'jirrct aa2 veral # 180 VERSAILLES. CHAP. veral of those which we saw, were worthy of attention. ]_ From these rooms, we passed to the late king's private opera house, which surpasses in magnificence, and costly decora- tion, every thing of the kind I ever beheld. The facing of the whole of the inside is of carved wood, richly gilt. The dome is beautifully painted. Upon the scenery of the stage being removed, and temporary columns, and galleries raised ; all of which can be effected in twenty-four hours, that part of the theatre presents a counterpart of the other,, and the whole forms a most splendid oblong ball room, very deservedly considered to be the finest in Europe : it used to be illuminated by ten thousand wax lights. The concert rooms, and retiring apartments are also very beautiful. From the opera, we visited the chapel, which is very fine, and costly, in which there are many large, and valuable paintings. After leaving this deserted place of royal worship, we passed through the Halls of Plenty, Venus, Mars, Mer- cury, Apollo, and the Hall of the Billiard Table, finely painted by Houasse, le Brun, Champagne, and other emi- nent artists, to the grand gallery, which is seventy-two yards long, and fourteen broad, and has seventeen lofty win- dows on one side, which look into the gardens, and seven- teen immense pier glasses on the opposite side to correspond. In this gallery, the kings of France were accustomed to re- ceive ambassadors, and ministers of state. We next entered the bedroom of the late queen and be- held the door, w^hich, on the night of the 6th of October, 1789, the frantic, and sanguinary mob, headed by the in» Si A A famous VERSAILLES. 181 XVII. famous Lcgendre, burst open, for the purpose of dlspatdnng chap. her with daggers, in her bed, on that frightful night, which preceded the return of the royal family to Paris, under the protection of the marquis de la Fayette, through an enraged multitude, which extended itself from Versailles to Paris. The miserable queen saved herself by escaping into an ad- joining apartment. Her bed was pierced through and through with poignards. The door is nailed up, but the marks of that horrible outrage still remain. In this, and in the adjoining chambers, are some very beautiful and valuable paintings. I must not omit to mention, although the sentiment which it in- spires is not very pleasant, the representation of the capture of an english frigate, by la Bayonne, a french corvette, after a desperate engagement, in which victory for once decided in favour of the enemy, who opposed, on this occasion, an infe- rior force. This is a picture of infinite merit, and possesses a novelty of arrangement, and strength of colouring, which I never saw equalled in any other naval representation. The subject seldom admits of much variety. The french, of course, are very much pleased with it. There are here also some curious old clocks. It was in one of these apartments, that Prior, the cele- brated poet, when secretary to the earl of Portland, who was appointed ambassador to the french court, in the year 1698, made the following memorable answer. One of the french king's household was showing the bard the royal apartments and curiosities pf this palace, and particu- larly pointed out to his notice, the paintings of le Brun, now removed THE PALACE OF THE PETIT TRIANON. removed to the musuem of the arts, in which the victories of Lewis the XlVth are described, and asked him, whether the actions of king WiHiani were to be seen in his palace? No, sir, repHed the loyal wit, ** the monuments of my master's *' glory are to be seen every where but in his own house." Through the' interest of Monsieur S we were admitted into a private room below stairs, in which several portraits of^ the late royal family have been preserv^ed from destruction,' during the late revolution. That which represents the queen and her young family, is very fine, and displays all the be- witching beauty and vivacity of that lovely and unfortunate personage. Into this room no one was admitted with us.- Here is a very curious piece of mechanism : it is a paint- ing, containing two hundred little figures, in the act of enjoy- ing the various pleasures of rural sport, which are separated ifrom the back ground of the picture, and are set in motion by springs ; and admirably imitate all the movements natural to their different occupations, A fisherman throws in his line,' and draws up a litde fish, a regular chase is displayed, and a nuptial procession appears, in which little figures, riding in tiny carriages, nod to the spectators. There are also many other curious figures. It is glazed and framed, and at a dis- tance, when its motion has ceased, it has the appearance of a tolerably good painting. * We next quitted the palace, and en- tered upon the grand terrace, from which it makes the finest appearance. This enormous pile of building is here united by a centre,? and corresponding wings, of great extent. and magnificence. From THE PALACE OF THE PETIT TRIANON. 183 From this elevated spot, the beholder contemplates the dif- chap. ferent waterworks, walks, and gardens, which cover several ^^^^' miles. The orangery is a beautifid specimen of tuscan architecture, designed by le Maitre, and finished by Mansart. It is filled witli lofty orange trees in full bearing ; many of which, in their tubs, measure from twenty to thirty feet high. Amongst them is an orange tree which is upwards of four hundred years old. The cascades, fountains, and jets d'eau, are too numerous to admit of minute description. They are all very fine, and are supplied by prodigious engines across the Seine, at Marli, about three miles distant. The Trianon is a little marble pnlcire, of mucU beauty, and cmbcilialicd with the richest decoration. It stands at the end of the great lake, in front of the pa- " lace; and was, by its late royal owners, considered as a summer house to the gardens of Versailles. The whole of this vast building and its grounds, were improved and beautified by Lewis XlVth, for the well known purpose of impressing his subjects, and particularly his courtiers, with the highest opinion of his greatness, and the lowest of their comparative littleness. Amongst the lords of his court he easily effected his wishes, by accommodating them in a manner unsuitable to their dignity. After being astonished at such a display of gorgeous mag- nificence, I approached, with increased delight, the enchanting little palace and grounds of the late queen, distant from Ver- sailles about two miles, callfed the Petit Trianon, to which she very justly gave the appellation of her " little Palace of Taste." Here, 184 THE PALACE OF THE PETIT TRIANON. CHAP, Here, Aitlgued with the splendours of royalty, she threw aside ' all its appearances, and gave herself up to the elegant pleasures of rural life. It is a princely establishment in miniature. It consists of a small palace, a chapel, an opera house, out offices ' and stables, a little park, and pleasure grounds ; the latter of which are still charming, although the fascinating eye, and tasteful hand of their lovely but too volatile mistress, no longer pervade, cherish and direct their growth and beauty. By that reverse of fortune, which the revolution has famiharized, the Petit Trianon is let out by the government to a restaurateur. All the rooms but one in this house were preoccupied, on the day of our visit, in consequence of which we were obliged to din€ ill tlic foiiiier litlle bed roona of tlio <^uccn, where, like the idalian goddess, she used to sleep in a suspended basket of roses. The apertures in the cieling and wainscot, to which the elegant furniture of this litde room of repose had once adhered, are still visible. After dinner we hastened through our coffee, and proceeded to the gardens. After winding through gravelled walks, em- bowered by the most exquisite and costly shrubs, we entered the elegant temple of Cupid, from which the little favourite of mankind had been unwillingly, and rudely expelled, as appeared by the fragments of his pedestal. Thy wrongs little god ! shall be revenged by thy fair friend Pity. Those who treated thee thus, shall suffer in their turn, and she shall not console them ! From this temple we passed through die most romantic ave- nues, to a range of rural buildings, called the queen's farm, the THE PALACE OF THE PETIT TRIANON. 185 the dairy, the mill, and the woodmens cottages ; which, dur- chap. ing the queen's residence at the Petit Trianon, were occupied ^^* by the most elegant and accomplished young noblemen of the court. In front of them, a lake terminated on one side by a rustic tower, spreads itself. These buildings are much neglected, and are falling into rapid ruin. , In other times, when neatness and order reigned throughout this elysian scenery, and gracefully spread its luxuriant beau- ties at the feet of its former captivating owner, upon the mirror of that lake, now filled with reeds and sedges, in elegant litde pleasure boats, the illustrious party was accustomed to enjoy the freshness of the evening, to fill the surrounding groves with the melody of the oong, ^vhlcli was faintly an- swered by the tender flute, whose musician was concealed in that rustic tower, whose graceful base the honeysuckle and eglantine no longer encircle, and whose winding access, once decorated with flowers of the richest beauty and perfume, is now overgrown with moss, decayed, and falling piecemeal to the ground. Near the farm, in corresponding pleasure grounds, the miller's house particularly impressed us with delight. All its characteristics were elegantly observed. A rivulet still runs on one side of it, which formerly used to turn a little wheel to complete the illusion. The apartments, which must have been once enchanting, now present nothing but gaping beams, broken ceilings, and shattered casements. The wainscots of its little cabinets, exhibit only a tablet, upon which are rudely B B penciled. 1SG "^^ • THE GROUNDS. CHAP. penciled, the motley initials, love verses, and memorandums of ^^^^' its various visitors. » ■ The shade of the ivy, which, upon all occasions, seems destined to perform the last offices to the departing monuments of human ingenuity, has here exercised its gloomy function. Whilst we were roving about, we were obliged to take refuge from a thunder storm, in what appeared to us a mere barn ; - upon our entering it, we found it to be an elegant little ball room, much disfigured, and greened over by damp and neglect. ^ In other parts of this petit Paradis, are caves of artificial rock, which have been formed at' an immense expense, in which ■were formerly beds of moss, and through which clear streams of water ghded, BclTidcrc temples, and ecnttered cottages, each differing from its neighbour in character, but all accord- ing in taste and beauty. The opera house, which stands alone, is a miniature of the splendid one in the palace of Versailles. The sylvan ball room, is an oblong square, lined with beautiful treillages, surmounted with vases of flowers. The top is open. When the queen gave her balls here, the ground was covered by a temporary flooring, and the whole was brilliantly lighted. As we passed by the palace, we saw, in the queen's little library, several persons walking. I Could the enchanting beauty of Austria, and the once in- censed idol of the gay, and the gallant, arise from her un- timely tomb, and behold her most sacred recesses of delight, thus rudely exposed, and converted into scenes of low, and holiday festivity, the temples which she designed, defaced, their THE GROUNDS. 187 their statues overthrown, her walks overgrown and entangled, chap. the clear mirror of the winding lake, upon the placid surface * of which once shone the reflected form of the Belvidere, and the retreats of elegant taste covered with the reedy greenness of the standing pool, and all the fahy fabric of her graceful fancy, thus dissolving in decay ; the devoted hapless Marie would add another sigh to the many which her aching heart has already heaved ! It would be a very desirable thing if Bonaparte would make this his country palace instead of St. Cloud. Upon our return, > as we approached Paris, the illuminated bridges of the Seine looked very beautiful, and we were much pleased with some fireworks, which had a singular effect upon the water. ■ In the evening, we had some music at Monsieur S *s, where we were joined by general Marescot, a brave and distin- guished officer, much esteemed by Bonaparte. He informed us, that he was on the point of setting out to view and report the condition of all the maritime fortifications in the republic. ** You must go with me as my aide-de-camp," said the general to Mademoiselle D . " I am not fierce enough for a soU ** dier," replied the fair one, with a bewitching smile. " Well " then,'* observed the sunbrowned general, " should the war '* ever be renewed, you shall attend me to charm away its *' calamities." Madame S , like a true french mother, was delighted with the little compliment, and presenting her snuff box to the gallant Marescot, she said, '* thank you, my dear general, <* the brave always think generously of the fair." -^'■^-'--i B B 2 CHAP. XVIII. CHAPTER XVIII. Bonaparte's Talents in Finance. — Garrick and the Madman. — Palace of the Conservative Senate. — Process of transferring Oil . Paintings from Wood to Ca?ivas. — The Dinner Knife. — Com- modities. — Hall of the National Convention, — llie Minister Tal- leyrand's Levee. CHAP. JL he first consul is said to add to his other extraordinary powers, an acute and comprehensive knowledge of finance. Monsieur S informed me, that whenever he waited upon him in his official capacity, with the national accounts, he displayed an acquaintance with the most complicated statements, which seemed intuitive. He exhibits the same talents in philosophy, and in mat- ters whicli are foreign to those vast objects of public em- ploy, which have raised him to his present height of glory, and which in general preclude the subordinate enjoyment of elegant study. Those acquirements, which providence in its wisdom has thinly scattered amongst mankind, and which seldom ripen to full maturity, although cherished by the most propitious advantages, and by the unreposing labours of a long, and blissful existence, spread their rich abundance, in the May morning of life, before this extraordinary being, who in the commencement of that very revolution, upon the ruins of which he has stepped to supreme authority, was a beardless stripling. From GARRl'd]^ ' A J^f)' THfi MADMAN"/ J 89 From the great performers upon the public stage of hfe, chap. .. -\r J c ' U XVIII. our conversation, one evenmg. at Madame S s, py a natural transition, embraced a review of the wonderful ta- lents, which have at various times adorned the lesser drama of the theatre. Madame S made som^ judicious remarks upon the french players of distinction, to all of whom she imputed a manner, and enunciation which have been im- bibed in a school, in which nature has not been permitted to preside. Their tragedy, she said, was inflated with too much pomp, and their elegant comedy suffered by too vola- tile an airiness. She bestowed upon our immortal Garrick, the most decided preference, and superiority to any actor whom she had ever seen. The opportunity which she had of judging of his powers, was short, and singular, but fully enabled her to form a decisive opinion. When ' Garrick vi- sited Paris for the last time, she was just married. This ce- lebrated actor had letters of introduction to Monsieur S . At a large party, which Monsieur S formed for the purpose of doing honour to his distinguished visitor, he ex- hibited several specimens of his unrivalled talents. Amongst others, he represented in dumb show, by the wonderful powers of his expressive countenance, the feelings of a fa- ther, who in looking over a lofty balcony with his only child in his arms, by accident dropped it. The disaster drove the unhappy parent mad. Garrick had visited him in his cell; where the miserable maniac was accustomed, several times in the course of the day, to exhibit all those looks Hi ,;>.< loo iiiW iim ^_ ' r -.r . and .j'^3tTM| jiioirT latnx iiHiJi tij: io i:':>iiutii>%^nqm wu t 190 GARRICK AND THE MADMAKr> CHAP, and attitudes which he had displayed at the balcony*. On a ^^^^^' sudden he would b(3nd himself fprvvard, as if looking from a window into tlis^'tstfeety^iyitl^ l>is [arms fplded as if they em^ braced a child,: then he would start back, and appear as if he had lost something, search the room round and round, run agaiii' forward, as tq. tl^e railing of a window, look down, and beat his forehead; JaS. if i lie. .i^ad beheld his infant bleeding, and breathless upon the pavement. Garrick's imitation was exquisite. The feelings of his beholders were wrought up to horror. The tears, and consternation of a gay fashionable french party, were applauses more flattering to the british Roscius, than the thunder of that acclamation, which, in the crowded theatre, followed the flash, pf his, , fiei^y eye, or the close of his appalling speech. - ■■ 'rrmi ' ^ "- ^. - •<- -o ./The english drama, however, has not escaped the ' ani- madversions of a french critic, whose taste and liberality are not very congenial with those of my charming, and generous friend. ''Their tragedies," he says, (speaking of the english) ** it is true, though interesting, and replete with J*.) beauties, are nevertheless dramatic monsters, half butcheiy, If. and half farce. Grotesque characters, and extravagant plea- *!.:santpy constitute the chief part of their comedies. In one *' of them, (not named) the devil enters sneezing, and f/. somebody says to . the devil, God bless you. They are not, ♦f.iiowever, all of this stamp. They have even some in very 4fe good taste." :ijaii ^.v 's^.^uu-ai Cur,g>i,i-;*4iii ^'^i* . ^\ ' " ' ■ ^ ^ '. * The cause which induced Garrick to visit this unhappy person was, it is saftf, to render tlie representation of his King Lear more perfect. Yes ENGLISH DRAMA. — BASTILLE. JQl Yes, Monsieur Dourx, I agree with you,itJ^cr; think we chapj have so?7ie in very good taste, I know not in what dra- ^viir^ matic work the facetious frenchman has discovered the in- troduction of his Satanic majesty under the influence of a cold, and receiving, as he enters, the usual deprecation on such occasions. I rather suspect that the adventures of Punch, and his fickle lady, who are always attended by a dancing demon, have aftbrded the materials for this sapient ob- servation, '^ni ^i, rj rjiiiWtULiiii ii:jUc oi ' In the course of one of my morning ranibles in Paris, I visited the ruins of the celebrated Bastille, of which prison, only the arsenal, some fragments of its massy walls, and two or- three dungeons remam. The volcanic vengeance of the people, has swept away this mighty fabric, which the re- volting mind of republican hberty denounced as the frightful den of despotism, upon the approach to which no marks of returning footsteps were imprinted, whilst, in her mad ca- reer, she converted every private dwelling in the metropolis into a revolutionary prison: So much foi: popular con- sistency ! . )i LiJ. , : In the mutations of time, to what different purposes are the same places applied! Where the consuming martyr expired*, (he unwieldy prize hog is exposed to sale; and the modern Parisian derives the sources of warmth and comfort, from a place, the very name of which^ once chilled the circulation of his blood. The site of the Bastille is now a magazine of wood, which supplies the city \yith fuel, , . i iHt-niinh tisi aoqu n-yjo UShhr > mo/i -uij xi .- ,»m f Smithfiela, *'^^^*^ Every T^ BASTILLE, CHAP. Every lover of pure liberty must leap with delight upon ^^^^^' the disincumbered earth, where once stood that gloomy abode of " broken hearts," and reflect upon the sufferings of the wretched Latude, and the various victims of capricious pique, or prostitute resentment. It was here that, in the beautiful lines of Cowper, the hopeless prisoner was doomed do ii?«j"To fly Tor refuge from distracting thought ** To such amusements as ingenious woe 33 tS' " Contrives, hard shifting, and without her tools— ^aoar'f«^a-w7h — a^ ■»> " >• Wn ujunu ^i mx^ji • | b h.*i^ ■ In France, I , have before had ocGasioit to remark, that fanciful notions of excessive delicacy, are not permitted to interfere with comfort, and convenience. Amongst thes6^ people, every thing turns upon the principle of accommo- dation. To this motive I attribute the frequent exhibition,, over the doors of respectable looking houses, in the fashion* able walks, and in different parts of Paris,, of the following, characters, '* Commodites pour Hommes, et Femmes." An. . english prude would start to read these words. I mention: this circumstance, for the purpose of communicating some idea of the people, convinced, as I well am, that it is only by detail, that we can become acquainted with tlie peculiar characteristics of any community. I very often passed by the ci-devant Hall of the National Convention; in which the hapless king and queen were doomed HALL OF THE NATIONAL CONVENTION. IPs?- doomed to the scaffold^ where murder was legitimated, reli^' chapV^' eion denounced, and the erave declared to be tlie bed of eternal repose, t^u'^tehn^^Ufl'^Ww'^k In vindication of the ways of eternal justice, even upon earth, this polluted pile is participating the fate of its devoted members. ' 'w ;^ t ' vi h "^^ itsvr? Those walls which once resounded with the florid, heightened declamation of republican visionaries, the most worthless, im- posing, and desperate of mankind, are prevented^ for a short time, by a few crazy props, from covering the earth below with their dust and ruins. The famed temple of the Goddess of Liberty^ is not tenantable enough to cover the Babel Deity from the peltings of the midnight storm» mdm Where is now the enthusiastic Gironde, where the volcanic mountain, the fiery, and eloquent Mirabeau, the wily Brissot, the atheistic Lequinios, the remorseless Marat, the bloody St. Just, and the chief of the deplumed and fallen legions of equality ? All is desolate and silent. The gaping planks of tfie guillotine are imbued with their last traces. The haunt of the banditti is uncovered. The revolution has preyed upon her own children, and metaphysical murderers have perished by the daggers of speculative republicans^ < ^iniu^ . About two» years since this place was converted into a me- nagerie. The cave,- and the wilderness, the desert, and the jungle, presented to the eye of the beholder, representative successors of those savages who, with more powers and more ferocity, were once enclosed within the same den. From the remembrance of such miscreants, I turn, with increased satis- foction. m^ THE MINISTER TALLEYRAND*S LEVEE. CHAP. faction, to the traces of approaching civihzatlon, which mark * the career of the present government, in which the want of suitable splendour no longer repels the approach and friendship of those nations which, once shuddered at the idea of coming into contact with the infected rags of visionary fraternity. Some indications of this change I saw pourtrayed at the levee of Monsieur Talleyrand, tlie minister of foreign relations, when I had the honour of being presented to that able and celebrated politician by Mr. B. The hotel of Talleyrand is very superb. We entered the court yard through tvv^o lines of about twenty carriages in waiting. Under the portico, were several turks seated, who formed a part of the suite of the turkish embas- sador, who had just arrived, and was then closetted with Mon- sieur T . „ Wje- passed through several noble apartments, preceded by servants, to a magnificent levee room, in which we met most of the foreign embassiidors who were then at the consular courdUticiq ^/u«|b^ 9bj»i« !AH'J 202 THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. CHAP, language, in wlilch the eye officiates for the ear, and com- ^^^' municates the charms of science, and the dehghts of common intercourse to the mind, with the velocity, facihty, and cer- tainty of sound, has been presented to these imperfect children of nature. The plan of the abb6, I believe, is before the world. It cannot be expected, in a fugitive sketch like the present, to attempt an elaborate detail of it. Some little idea of its rudiments may, perhaps, be imparted, by a plain de- scription of what passed on the examination ^ay, when I had the happiness of being present. . " On the morning of the exhibition, the streets leading to the College were lined with carriages, for humanity has here -made a convert of fashion, and directed her wavering mind to ob- jects from which she cannot retire, without ample and con- soling gratification. Upon the lawn, in front of the College, were groups of the pupils, enjoying those sports and exer- cises which are followed by other children, to whom Pro- vidence has been more bountiful. Some of their recreations required calculation, and I observed that their intercourse with each other appeared to be easy, swift,, and intelligible. They niade some convulsive movements with their mouths, in me course of their communication, which, at. first, had rather an unpleasant effect. ^ In the cloister I addressed myself to a gehteel looking youth, who did not appear to belong to the ■ ■ 'f \) )•- ' ■ . ' ' . ' Collegje, and requested him to shew me the way to the theatre,, m vyliicd the lecture was to be delivered. I found he took no notice of me. One of the assistants of the abb^, who was standing near me, informed me, he was deaf and dumb* and made THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AKD DUMBi' $0S made two or three signs, too swift for me to discriminate ; chap< the silent youth bowed, took me by the hand, led me into the ^^^^^^^^ theatre, and, witH the greatest politeness, procured me an ex- cellent seat. The room was very crowded, and in the course . i of a quarter of an hour after I had entered, every avenue leading to it was completely filled with gente^J company* The benches of the auditors of the lecture, displayed great beauty and fashion, a stage, or tribune, appeared in front, behind was a large inclined slate, in a frame, about eight feet high, by six lOhg. On tach side of^ tfeer stage the scholars were placed, and behind tlie spectators Was a fine bust of the founder of the institution, the admirable de I'Ep^e. •'The abb<^ Sicard mounted the tribune, and dolfvpred his lecture wi-th very pleasing address,^ in the course of which he frequently excited great applause. The subject of it was an an^ysis of the language of the deaf and dumb, interspersed with several curious experiments upon, and anecdotes of his pupils. The examination of the scholars next followed. The communication which has been opened to them in this singular "manner, is hy the phUosophi/ of gram77iar:"'' * to The denotation of the tenses is effected by appropriate signsl The hand thrown over the shoulder, expressed the past, when extended, like the attitude of inviting, it. denoted the future, and the finger inverted upon the breast, indicated the present tense. A single sign communicated a word, and frequently a sentence. A singular instance of the first' occurred. A gen^- Ueman amongst the spectators, who appeared to be acquainted with the art of the abb6, , ,was requcstedj to^ .i^iake, a sign, tf^ i i.;3ii D D 2 the 204 THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DIfMB. CHAP. the pupil then under examination, the moment it was made, ^^^' the scholar chalked upon the. slate, ; in a fine swift flowing hand, " une homme/' The pupil ;^Tred; the gentleman re* newed the sign ; wh,0n he immediately wrote, ** une personne," to the astonishment of eyery person present. This circum- stance is a strong instance 1 of .the powers of discrimination, of which this curious communication is susceptible. ,♦ Some of the spectators requested the abb6 to describe, by signs, several sentences which they repeated from memory, or read from authors, wh^clj were immediately understood by the pupils, and penciled upon the slate. , hrfld^d fjnn Jivsi^f i. ,* The lecture and exammation lasted about three hour?. -Upon the close .of this intef^ijUrigpjexhibitian.ji silent sympathy reigned throughout the spectators,; i i Eve?y f^ace beamed, with satisfaction . A tear was seen trembling in the eyes of many present. After a momentary pause, the hall rang witly acclamations. Elegant women pressed , forward in the crowd, to present some little token of their . delighted feelings to the children protected by this institution. It was a spectacle, in which genius was ob- served assisting humanity, and nature in a suffusion of gyati^ tude, weeping over the hallowed and propitious endeavours of the good, the generouSr and the enlightened.- Well might the elegant and eloquent Kol?.ebue select from such a spot, a subject for hrs pathetic pen, and give to the british Roseius of the.. present day*, the power of enriching its drama, by a fresh display of his unrivalled abilities. The exhibition of the *b * Mr. Kemble brought out the pathetic play of Deaf and Dumb, in which he sustains tlie character of the abbe de TEpee with admirable effect. •vl Deaf THE COLLEGE OF THE* DEAF AND DUMB. 205 Deaf and Dumb will never be eradicated from my mind. The chap. tears which were shed on that day, seemed almost sufficient ^^^' to wipe away the recollection of those times, in which misery experienced no mitigation ; when every one trembling for him- self, had no unabsorbed sensation of consoling pity to bestow upon the unfortunate. Those times are gone — May their ab- sence be eternal ! This institution is made serviceable to the state. A pnpil of the College is one of the chief clerks of the national lottery office, in which he distinguishes himself by his talents, his calculation, and upright deportment. Whilst the subject is before me, I beg leave to mention a cu- rious circumstance which Was related by a very ingenious and honourablo mail, iix a yaily wlicic I happened to be present, to prove the truth and agreement of nature, in her association of ideas* A blind man was asked by him, to what sound he resembled the sensation produced by touching a piece of red cloth, he immediately replied, to the sound of a trumpet. A pupil of the College of the Deaf and Dumb, who could faintly hear a loud noise, if applied close to his ear, was asked, to what colour he could compare the sound of a trumpet, he said, it always excited in his mind, the remembrance of scarlet cloth *. Two pupils, male and female, of the same College, who had been placed near cannon, when discharged,- without being susceptible of the sound, were one day taken by their humane tutor, into a room where the harmonica was playing ; a mu- sical instrument, which is said to have a powerful influence * The first experiment is well known. It is also noticed in Locke upon the Human ■ r. I' ' i -.' Understanding. ^ over ii06 THE COLLEGE OP THE DEAF AND DUMB. CHAP. over the nerves. He asked them by signs, if they felt any ]__ sensation. They repHed in the negative. He then placed the hand of the girl upon the instrument, whilst it was playing, and repeated the question, she answered, that she felt a new pleasm*e enter the ends of her fingers, pass up her arms, and penetrate her heart. The same experiment was tried upon her companion, who seemed to be sensible of similar sensations bf delight, but less acutely felt. The emotions of sympathy are, perhaps, more forcibly ex- cited by music than by any other cause. An illustrious ex- - ample of its effect is introduced into Boerhaave's academical lectures on the diseases kj£ djc iiciTcs, p\»bllalicd by Van Ecms. Theodosius the Great, by levying an excessive tribute, inflamed the minds of the people of Antioch against him, who pros- trated his statues, and slew his ambassadors. Upon coolly reflecting on what they had done, and re- membering the stern and ruthless nature of their sovereign, they sent deputies to implore his clemency and forgiveness. The tyrant received them, without making any reply. His chief minister lamenting the condition of these unhappy people, resolved upon an expedient to move the soul of his offended prince to mercy. He accordingly instructed the youths whose oflfice it was to entertain the emperor with music during dinner, ' ^ perform an affecting and pathetic piece of music, composed for the purpose. The plaintive sounds soon began to operate. The emperor, unconscious of the cause, bedewed his cup with tears, and when the singers artfully proceeded to _^,^ describe I ^ Si Cv § ^ ^ .^: BAGATELLE. 207 describe the sufferings of the people of Antiocli, their imperial chap. master could no longer contain himself, but, moved by their '^ pathos, although unaccustomed to forgive, revoked his ven- geance, and restored the terrified offenders to his royal favour. Madame E , who is considered the first dilettante mis- tress of music in Paris, related to me, an experiment which she once tried upon a young woman who was totally deaf and dumb. Madame E fastened a silk thread about her mouth, and rested the other end upon her piano forte, upon which she played a pathetic air. Her visitor soon appeared much affected, and at length burst into tears. When she re- covered, she wrote down upon a piece of paper, that she had experienced a delight, which she could not express, and that it had forced her to weep. I must reluctantly retire from this pleasing subject, by- wishing that the abbe may long enjoy a series of blissful years, and that his noble endeavours, " manifesting the enlightened *' times in which we live,*' may meet with that philanthropic success, which, to his generous mind, will be its most desired reward here ; assured, as he is, of being crowned with those unfading remunerations which are promised to the good here- iffter, ;: - I one day dined at Bagatelle, which is about four miles from Paris, in the Bois du Bologne, the parisian Hyde Park, in which the fashionaWe equestrian, upon his norman hunter. <# with lieel insidiously aside. Provokes the canter which he seems to chide." o The 208 BAGATELLE. jEHAP. The duellist also, in the covert windings of this vast wood, ^^^' ^eeks reparation for the trifling wrong, and, bleeds himself, or slaughters his antagonist. Bagatelle was formerly the elegant little palace of the count d'Artois. The 'gardens and grounds -belonging to it, are beautifully disposed. ; What a contrast to the gloomy shades of Holyrood Mpuse, - i][i which the royal fugitive, and his wretched followers, ^aye found an asylum ! ^ (The building and gardens are in the taste of the Petit Trianon, but inferior to it. As ucual, it Is the residence of cooks, and scullions, tenants of the government, who treat their visitors with good dinners, and excellent wine, and take good care to make them pay handsomely for their faultless fare. ) _j^^ Returning to my hotel rather late at night, I passed through the Champs Elisees, which, at this hour,, seemed to be in all its glory. Every *' alley green,** was filled with whis- pering lovers. On all sides the sounds of festivity, of music, and dancing, regaled the ear^ The weather was very sultry, i^nd being a little fatigued with rather a long walk, I entered through a trellis palisade into a capacious pavilion, where I re- Jreshed myself with lemonade. ; _^, Hqre I fpuii^. a large bourgeois party enjoying therriselves, after the labours of the day, with the wnltz, and their favourite beverage, lemonade. A stranger is always surprised at behold- ing the grace, and activity, which even the lowest orders of people in France, display in dancing.; Whiskered corporals, in thick dirty boots, and young tradesmen, in long great coats, led off their respective femnles de chambre and grisettcs, -with an elegance, which is not to be surpassed in the jewelled birth night FRENCH POLICE. GRAND NATIONAL LIBRARY. 205 night ball room. Nothing could exceed the sprightly care- chap, lessness, and gay indifference which reigned throughout. The ' music in this place, as in every other of a similar descrip- tion, was excellent. The french police, notwithstanding the invidious rumours which have been circulated to its prejudice, is the constant subject of admiration with every candid foreigner, who is enabled under the shelter of its protection, to perambulate in safety every part of Paris, and its suburbs, although badly lighted, at that hour of the night, which in England, seldom fails to expose the unwary wanderer to the pistol of the prowling ruffian. An enlightened friend of mine, very shrewdly observed, that the english police seems to direct its powers, and consideration more to the apprehension of the robber, than to the prevention of the robbery. In no country is the art of thief catching carried higher, than in England. In France, the police is in the highest state of respectability, and unites force to vigilance. The depredator who is fortunate enough to escape the former, is seldom able to elude the latter. • The grand National Library of Paris, is highly deserving of a visit, and is considered to be the first of its kind in Europe. In one of the rooms is a museum of antiques. The whole is about to be removed to the old palace. In . one of the wings of this noble collection, are the two cele- brated great globes, which rest upon the ground, and rise tlirough the flooring of the first story, where there is a rail- E E ing 210 Bonaparte's review." V CHAP, iiig round them. These globes I should suppose to be about ^ eighteen feet high. From the Grand National Library, I went with a party to the military review of all the regintfents in Paris, and its suburbs by the first consul, in the Place de Carousel, within the gates, and railing which he has raised for this purpose. We were introduced into the apartments of general Duroc, the governor of the palace, which were upon the ground floor of the Thuilleries, and which afforded us an uninterrupted view of the whole of this superb military spectacle. A little before twelve o'clock, all the regiments of horse and foot, amounting to about 7000 men, had formed the line, when the consular regiment entered, preceded by their fine band, and the tambour major, who was dressed in great magnificence. This man is remarked in Paris for his symmetry and manly beauty. The cream- coloured charger of Bonaparte, upon which, *' labouring for ** destiny, he has often made dreadful way in the field of battle,'* next passed us, led by grooms in splendid liveries of green and gold, to the grand entrance. As the clock struck twelve, the first consul, surrounded by a chosen body of the consular guard, appeared and mounted. He immediately rode off in full speed, to the gate nearest to the gallery of the Louvre, followed by his favourite generals, superbly attired, mounted upon chargers very richly caparisoned. My eye, aided by a good opera-glass, was fixed upon the first consul. I beheld before me a man whose renown is sounded through the re- motest regions of the earth, and whose exploits have been united by the worshippers of favoured heroism to the conqueror of Darius. .'■Tyo^ Bonaparte's review. 211 Darius. His features are small and meagre. His countenance chap. is melancholy, cold and desperate. His nose is aquiline. His * eyes are dark, fiery, and full of genius. His hair, which he wears cropped and without powder, is black. His figure is small, but very muscular. He wore a blue coat, with broad white facings and golden epaulets (the uniform of his regi-^ ment) a small cocked hat, in which was a little national cockade. In his hand he carried a small riding whip. His boots were made in the fashion of english riding boots, which I have before condemned on account of their being destitute of military appearance. The reason why they are preferred by the french officers is on account of the top leather not soiling the knees of the pantaloons when in the act of putting one leg over the other. Bonaparte rode through the lines. His beautiful charger seemed conscious of the glory of his rider, and bore him through the ranks with a commanding and majestic pace. The colours of one of the regiments was stationed close under the window, where I had the good fortune of being placed. Here the hero stopped, and saluted them. At this time I was close to him, and had the pleasure of completely gratifying that curiosity of beholding the persons of distinguished men, which is so natural to all of us. ^ - ^ . / .; *• A few minutes after Bonaparte had passed, I saw a procession, the history of which I did not understand at the time, but which fully explained its general purport. About tv/o years since, one of the regiments of artillery revolted in battle. Bona- parte in anger deprived them of tlieir colours, and suspended them, covered with crape, amongst the captive banners of the E E 2 enemv, 2lii RESTORATION OF ARTILLERY COLOURS. CHAP, enemy, in the Hall of Victory. The regiment, affected by the ^^^' disgrace, were determined to recover the lost esteem of their general and their country, or perish to the last man. When any desperate enterprise was to be performed, they volunteered their services, and by this magnanimous compunction covered their shame with laurels, and became the boast and pride of the republican legions. This day was fixed upon for tlie restoration of their ensigns. They were marched up under a guard of honour, and presented to the first consul, who took the black drapery from their staves, tore it in pieces, threw it on the ground, and drove his charger indignandy over it. The regenerated banners were then restored to the regiment, with a short and suitable address. I faintly heard this laconic speech, but not distinctly enough to offer any criticism upon the eloquence of the speaker. This exhibition had its intended effect, and displayed the genius of this extraordinary man, who, with unerring acutene&s, knows so well to give to every public occurrence that dramatic hue and interest which are so gratifying to the minds of the people over whom he presides. After this ceremony, the several regiments, preceded by their bands of music, marched before him in open order, and dropped their colours as they passed. The flying artillery and cavalry left the parade in full gallop, and made a terrific noise upon the pavement. Each field-piece was drawn by six horses, upon a carriage with large wheels. Here the review closed. ♦' Farewell, the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, *' The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, '• The royal banner, and all quality, ^* Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war.** MADAME BONAPARTE. 213 Bonaparte returned to the palace, where he held a splendid chap. levee, at which the new turkish embassy was introduced. ^^^' In the evening I saw Bonaparte and his lady at the opera, where he was received with respect, but without any clamorous acclamation. Madame Bonaparte appears to be older than the first consul. She is an elegant woman, and is said to conduct herself in her high station with becoming dignity and prudence. :f\l "t ** CHAP. ,.'31'" >J'- ^ ,'i '.# I *i.i*: t\Ki r\. ,-\ XX. CHAPTER XX. Jbb^ Siej/es — Consular Procession to the Coimcil Chamber — \Oth of August, 1792 — Celeriti) of Mons. Fouche's Information — 77!^ two Lovers- — Cabinet of Mons. le Grand — Self-prescribing Physician — Bust of Robespierre — His Lodgings — Coim Hall — Museum of French Monuments — Revolutionary Agent — Lovers of married Women. CHAP. A NEAT remark was made upon the abb^ Sieyes, to whose prolific mind the revolution and all its changes have been im- puted. This extraordinary man has a noble house in the Champs Elisees, and is said to have the best cook in Paris. As a party in which I was, were passing his hotel, a near relation of the abb6, who happened to be with us, commented upon the great services which the cloistered fabricator of constitutions had afforded to France, and adverted to his house and establishment as an unsuitable reward for his labours. A gentleman, who was intimate with the abb6, but was no great admirer of his morals, said, " I think, my dear madam, " the abb^ ought to be very well satisfied with his destiny ; *' and I would advise him to live as long as he can in the '* Champs Elis6es ; for when he shall happen to experience ** that mysterious transition to which we are all hastening, " I think the chances will be against his finding good accom- '* modations in any other Elysium." As CONSULAR PROCESSION. — TENTH OF AUGUST, 1192. 2-15 As I was passing one morning through the hall of the chap^ Thuillcries, the great door of the council chamber was ' opened, and the second and third consuls, preceded and fol- lowed by their suite in full costume, ?narched with great pomp to business, to the roll of a drum. This singular pro- cession from one part of the house to the other, had a ridi- culous effect, and naturally reminded me of the fustian pageantry which, upon the stage, attends the entries and exits of the kings and queens of the drama. I have often heen surprised to find that the injuries which the cornice of the entrance, and the capitals of the columns in the hall of the Thuilleries, have sustained from the ball of cannor>, during the horrible massacre of the 10th of August, 1792, have never been repaired. Every vestige of that day of dismay and slaughter ought for ever to be effaced ; instead of which, some labour has been exercised to perpetuate its remembrance. Under the largest chasms which have been made by the shot is painted, in strong- characters^, that gloomy date. In the evening of t-liat day of devastation, from which France may date all her sufferings, a tViend of mine went into the court-yard of the Thuilleries, where the review is now held, for the purpose of endeavouring to recognise, amongst the dead, any of his acquaintances. In the course of this shocking search, he declared to me, that he counted no less than eight hundred bodies of Swiss and French, who had perished in that frightful contest between an infatuated people and an irresolute sovereign. I will not dilate upon this painful subject, but dismiss 2\S CELERITY OF MONS. FOUCHE's INFORMATION. CHAP. dismiss It in the words of the holy and resigned descendant of ^ Nahor, " Let that day be darkness ; let not God regard it from above, neither let the light shine upon it ; let darkness and the shadow of death stain it ; let a cloud dwell upon it ; let the blackness of the day terrify it.*' I have before had occasion to notice the promptitude and activity of the french police, under the penetrating eye of Mons. Fouche. No one can escape the vigilance of this man and his emissaries. An emigrant of respectability assured me, that when he and a friend of his waited upon him for their passports to enable them to quit Paris for the South of France, he surprised them by relating to them the names of the towns, the streets, and of the people with whom they had lodged, at various times, during their emigration in England. Whilst I was at Paris, an affair happened very near the hotel in which I lodged, which in its sequel displayed that high spirit and sensibility which appear to form the presiding features in the french character, to which may be attributed all the excesses which have stained, and all the glory which has em- bellished it. A lady of fortune, and her only daughter, an elegant and lovely young woman, resided in the Fauxbourg St. Germain. A young man of merit and accomplishments, but unaided by the powerful pretensions o£ suitable fortune,, cherished a passion for the young lady, to whom he had fre- quent access, on account of his being distantly related to heiu His affection was requited with return ; and before the parent suspected the attachment, the lovers were solemnly engaged. The indications of pure love are generally too unguarded to escape THE TWO LOVERS. 217 escape the keen, observing eye of a cold, mercenary mother, chap. she charged her daughter with her fondness, and forbade her ' distracted lover the house. To close up every avenue of hope, she withdrew with her wretched child into Italy, where they remained for two years ; at the expiration of which, the mother had arranged for her daughter a match more congenial to her own pride and avarice, with an elderly gentleman, who had considerable fortune and property in the vicinity of Bourdeaux, Every necp-ssnry preparation vras made tor this cruel unions which it was determined should be celebrated in. Paris, to which city they returned for that purpose. Two days before the marriage was intended to take place, tlie young lover, wrought up to frenzy by the intelligence' of the approaching nuptials, contrived, by bribing the porter whilst the mother was at the opera with her intended son-in-law, to reach the room of the beloved being from whom he was about to be separated for ever. Emaciated by grief, she presented the mere spectre of what she was when he last left her* As soon as he entered the room, he fell senseless at her feet, from which state he was roused by the loud fits of her frightful maniac laughter. She stared upon him, like one bewildered. He clasped her with one hand, and with the other drew from his pocket a viai containing double distilled laurel water : he pressed it to her lips, until she had swallowed half of its contents ; the remainder he drank himself. — The drug of death soon began to operate. — Clasped in each other's arms, pale and expiring, they reviewed their hard fate, and, in faint and lessening sentences, implored pf the great God of mercy, that he would pardon them for ^unolti'JZ'j F P what 218 THE TWO LOVERS,. CHAP. what they had done, and that he would receive their spirite ' into his regions of eternal repose; that he would be pleased^ in his divine goodness, to forgive the misjudging severity which had driven them to despair, and would support the unconscious author of it, under the heavy afflictions which their disastrous- deaths would occasion. They had scarcely finished their prayer;, when they heard footsteps approaching the room, Madame^ R , who had been indisposed at the opera, returned home before its conclusion, with the mton- sidcrable portion of its misery, by having become familiar to > jthe unfortunate couple* hnrh ' i p-^'^n the valuable and curious cabinet of Mons. le G , I found out, behind several other casts, a bust of Robespierre> which . was taken of him, a short period before he fell. A tyrant, whose offences look white> contrasted wit-h the deep •delinquency of the oppressor of France, is said to be indebted more to his character, than to nature, for the representation mi i^j' ' ■ ^»"> ^* ham 2 'i ^ BUST OF ROBESFIERRE. 221 of that deformity of person which appears^ in Shakspeare's chap. portrait of him^ when he puts this soliloquy in his lips i — " I that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, *' Cheated of feature, by dissembling Nature,, " Deform'd, unfinished, sent before my time, " Into the breathing world, scarce half made up ; " And that so lamely and unfashionably, '■ *' That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them/* History, enraged at the review of the insatiable crimes of Ro^ bespierre, has already bestowed upon him a fanciful physiog- nomy, which she has composed" of features which rather cor- respond with the ferocity af h-is souT, than with' his real coun*- tenance. From the appearance of this bust, which is an authentic remblance of him, his face must have been rather handsome. His features were small, and his countenance must Iiave strongly expressed animation, penetration and subtlety. This bust is a real curiosity. It is very likely that not another is now ti) be found. Mons. le G is permitted to preserve it, without reproach on account of his art. I can safely say, he does not retain it from any emotions of veneration for the original. It is worthy of being placed between the heads of Caligula and Nero. Very near the residence of Mons. le G is the house in which Robespierre lodged. It is at the end of the Rue Florentine, in the Rue St. Honore, at a wax chandler's. This man is too much celebrated, not to render every thing which relates to him curious. The front windows of 222 COHN HALL^ CHAP. of his former lodgings look towards the Place de la Concorde, ^^* on the right of which his prime minister, the permanent guiU Jotine, was quartered. Robespierre, who, like die revolting angel, before the world's formation, appears to have preferred the sceptre of Hell and chaos, to the allegiance of order and social happiness, will descend to posterity with no common attributes of distinction and preeminence. His mind was fully suited to its labours, which^ in their wide sphere of mischief, required more genius to direct them than was bestowed upon the worst of the tyrants of Rome^ and a spirit of evil which, with its " hroad circumfei'eiice" ot ^uilt, was calculated to darken the disk of their less expanded enormity. From Robespierre's lodgings, curiosity led me to visit the building in which the jacobin club held their Pandemonium* It is a noble edifice,, and once belonged to the Order of Jacobins* Near tliis church stands the beautiful fabric of the Corn Hall of Paris, designed by Monsieur le Grand. The dome of the bank of England is in the same style, but inferior, in point of lightness and elegance. That of the Corn Hall resembles a vast concavity of glass. In this noble building the millers deposit their corn for sale. Its deep and lofty arches and area, were ruearly filled with sacks, containing that grain which is precious to all nations, but to none more than the french ; to a frenchman, bread is most emphatically the staff of life. He consumes more of it at one meal than an englishman does at four. In France, the little comparative quantity of bread which the enghsh consume, is considered to form a part of iheir national character. Before I left Paris, I was requested to IMTUSEl/M OF FRENCH MONUMENTS. ^23 to visit a very curious and interesting exhibition, the Mubeum chap* of French Monuments ;, for the reception of which, the an- ' cient convent of the monks of the Order of les Petits Au- gustines^ is appropriated. This national institution is intended to exliibit the progress of monumental taste in France, for several centuries past, tiie specimens of which have chiefly been collected from St. Denis,, which formerly was the burial place of the raonarchs of France, and from other churches. It will be remembered by the reader, that in the year 1793, Menrintv a. unlgpar and Ajrioxio i-cp«bli\^an, propOSCd Setting ofF for the former church, at tlie head of the sans culottes, to destroy all these curious and valuable relics, " to strike,'* as he said, **- the tyrants in their tombs,." but wa& prevented by some other republicans of influence, who had not parted with their * "veneration for works of taste,, from this impious and impotent outrage. In the first hall, which is very large, and impresses a similar awe to that which is generally felt upon entering a cathedra^ are the tombs of the twelfth century.. Amongst them I chiefly distinguished that of Henry II, upon which are three beau- tiful mourning figures,, supporting a cup, containing his^ heart. In the second hall, are the monuments of tlie thirteenth century,, most of ik©m are very fine ; that of Lewis the Xllth and his queen, is well worthy of notice. I did not find much to gratify me in the hall of the fourteenth century. In that of the fifteenth century are several noble tombs, and beautiful windows of stained glass. In the hall of the sixteenth century is a fine statue of Henry the IVtb, by Franchville, which is considered 22if MUSEUM OF FRENCH MONUMENTS, CHAP, considered to be an admirable likeness of that wonderful man. ' In the hall of the seventeenth century, is a noble figure, repre- senting religion, by Girardon. In the cloisters are several curious statues, stained glass windows, and tesselated pavement. There is here also a good bust of Alexis Peron, with this singular epitaph, Ci git qui ne fut rien. Pas meme academicien. In the square garden within the cloisters, are several ancient urns, and tombs. Amongst them is the vase which contains the ashes, if any remain, of Abelard and Heloise, which has been removed from the Paraclete to the Museum. It is covered with the graceful shade of an Acacia tree, which seems to wave proudly over its celebrated deposit. Upon approaching this treasurable antique, all those feelings rushed in upon me, which the beautiful, and affecting narrative of those disastrous lovers, by Pope, has often excited in me. The melancholy Heloise seemed to breathe from her tomb here, " If ever chance two wandering lovers brings, *' O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, *' And drink the falling tear each other sheds : ^' Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd, -" Oh ! may we never love, as these have lov'd." National guards are stationed in every apartment of the Mu- seum, and present rather an unaccording appearance, amidst . the I.rUSEUMVOF FRENCH MONUMENTS. 2'25 die .peac":r-:i s.olemnity of the surrounding objects. Tins ex- chap. hibition k rot yet completed, but, in its present condition, is ^^' "w&^ybinterevsting. ? Some hints, not altogether useless, may be colic ctied from it. In England, our churches are charnel houses^ The pews of the congregation are raised upon foun- Jations of putrefaction. For six days and nights the temple of devotion is filled with the pestilent vapours of the dead, and on. the seventh they are absorbed by the living. Surely it is high time to subdue prejudices, which endanger liealth without promoting piety. The scotch never bury in their churches, and their burial places are upon the confines of their towns. The eye of adoration is filled with a pensive pleasure, in ob- . serving itself surrounded with the endeavours of taste and in- genuity, to lift the remembrance of the ' great and good be- yond the grave, in that very spot where the frailty of our na- ture is so often inculcated. . . ;.; .,. > . . ^ ,_ .i Such a display, in such a place, is rational, suitable, and admonitory. The silent tomb becomes auxiliary to the elo- quence of the pulpit. But the custom which converts the place of worship into. a catacomb, can afford but a mistaken consolation to posthumous pride, and must, in some degree, contaminate the atmosphere which is contained within its walls. One evening as I was passing through the Boulevard Italien, in company with a gentleman from Toulon, we met a tall, dark, hollow eyed, ferocious looking man, of whom he related the following story. ' Immediately after the evacuation of Toulon by the english,' all the principal toulonese citizens were ordered to repair to- ii4*i G G the 226 REVOLUTIONARY AGENTS. CHAP, the market place; where they were surrounded by a greatonili- ' tary force.. This man who, for his offences, had: been committed to- prison, was liberated by the french agents, in consequence of his undertaking to select those of the inhabitants who had in any manner favoured the capitulation of the town, or who had. shown any hospitality to the english, whilst they were in pos- session of it. The miscreant passed before the citizens^ who were drawn out in lines, amounting to near three thousand. Amongst whom he pointed out about one thousand four hun- dred persons to the fury of the government ; without any other evidence, or further examination, they were all immediately adjudged tO' be shot. For this purpose a suitable number of soldiers were drawn out. The unhappy victims were marched up to their destruction,, upon; the quay, in sets of three hun- dred, and butchered. The tarnage was dreadful. In tlie last of these unfortunate groups, were two gentlemen of great respectability, who re- ceived no wound, from the fire, but, to preserve themselves^ dropped with the rest, and exhibited all the appearances o£ heaving participated in the general fate. .This execution took place in tlie evening: immediately aftec its close, the soldiers,., fatigued, and sick with cold-blooded, shlughter, marched back to their quarters, without examining whether every person upon whom they had fired,, had fallen a victim to the murderous bullet. Soon after, the soldiers had retired, the women of Toulon, . alluredHby plunder, pro- ceeded ta the fatal, spot. Mounted upon the bodies of th^ r o fallen,. REVOLUTIONARY AGENTS. 227 fallen, they stripped the dead, and dyhig. The night was chap. stormy. The moon, emerging from dark clouds, occasionally, ^^' shed its pale lustre upon this horrible scene. When the plun- derers had abandoned their prey, during an interval of deep darkness, in the -dead of the night, when all was silent, un- conscious of each other's intentions, the two citizens who had escaped the general carnage, disencumbered themselves from the dead, under whom they were buried ; chilled and naked, in an agony of mind not to be described, they, at the same moment, attempted to escape. In their agitation, they rushed against each other, Expi'essions of terror and surprise, dropped from each of them. ** Oh ! God I it is my father !" said one, " my son, my son, my son,'* exclaimed the other, clasping him in his arms. They were father and son, who had thus miraculously escaped, and met in this extraordinary manner. ' . The person from whom I received this account, informed xne, that he knew these gentlemen very well, and that they had been resettled in Toulon about two years* . The wretch who had thus directed the ruthless vengeance of a revolutionary banditti, against the breasts of his fellow citizens, was, at this time, in Paris, soliciting, from the present government, from a total misconception of its nature, those remunerations which had been promised, but never realized by his barbarous employers. n-' .'py)fn^ I need scarcely add, that although he had been in the ca- pital several months, he had not been able to gain access to the minister's secretary. ■ , - -■ - * The time of terror was over — ^ihe murderer *s occupation was G G 2 gone — ii'2^ LOVERS OF MARRIED WOMEN. CHAP. gone — the guillotine, with unsatiated hunger, after having ^^' gorged the food which was thrown to it, had devoured its. feeder. ^ 1 must leave it to the ingenuity of my reader, to connect the observation with which I shall close this chapter, with the preceding story, for I am only enabled to do so, by ob- ferving, that an impressive instance of, the subject of it, oc- curred immediately after my mind had been harrowed up, by the narrative which I have just related. The married women of France feel no compunctious visitmgs of conscience, in cherishing about them a circle of lovers, amongst whom thei? husbands are merel]/ more favoured than the rest. I hope I shall not be considered as an apologist, for an indulgence which, in France, excites no jealousy in oney and no surprise amongst the many, when I declare, that I confidently believe> in most instances, it commences, and guiltlessly terminates in the love of admiration. I know, and visited in Paris, a most lovely and accomplished young woman, who had been married about two years. 3he admitted the visits of men, whom she knew were passionately fond of her. Sometimes she received theni in the presence, and sometimes in the absence of her husband, as accident, not arrangement, directed. They ap- proached her with all the agitation and tenderness of the most ardent lovers. Amongst the number, was a certain celebrated orator. This man was her abject slave. A glance from her expressive eye raised him to the summit of bliss, or rendered his night sleepless. The complacent husband of Madame G regarded these men as his most beloved friends, because they enlarged the happiness of his wife ; and, strange as it may appear. LOVERS OF MARRIE0 WOMEN. appear, I believe that he had as little cause to complain as Othello, and therefore never permitted his repose to be dis- turbed by those suspicions which preyed upon the vitals of the hapless moor. The french Benedict might truly exclaim. 229 CHAP. XX. « *Tis not to make me jealous, *' To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, " Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well; " Where virtue is, these are more virtuous ; " Nor from my own weak merits will I draw. '' The smallest fear, gr doubt of her revolt," * c vhf;n L' V to :^iii i.i. '^mn.^A ^' I AjLi> iuiw yi; ^m :u ' • -» ," i. J . '• ^ c; CHAP* V* (\ " ' .' XXI. CHAPTER XXI. Picturesque a7id Mechanical Theatre — Filtrating and purifying Vases — English Jacobins — A Fareivell — Messagerie — Mai Maison — Forest of Evreux — Lower Normandy — Caen — Hon. T. Kr shine — A Ball — The Keeper of the Sachristy of Notre Dame — The tzvo blind Beggars — .^imui-^ St. Lo — Cherbourg — Englaiid. CHAP. J VISITED, one evening, a very beautilul exhibition, which I think worthy of being noticed ; it was the picturesque and mechanical theatre. The company present were select and genteel. The room and stage were upon a small scale; the former was very elegantly fitted up. The spectacle consisted of scenery and appropriate little moving figures. The first scene was a view of a wood in early morning, every object looked blue, fresh, and dewy. The gradations of light, until the approach of meridian day,, were admirably represented. Serpents were seen crawling in the grass. A little sportsman entered with his fowling-piece, and imitated all the movements na- tural to his pursuit; a tiny wild duck rose from a lake, and flew before him. He pointed his gun, changed his situation, pointed it again, and fired. The bLrd dropped ; he threw it oyer his shoulders, fastened to his gun, and retired. Waggons, drawn by horses about four inches high, passed along ; groups of peasantry followed, exquisitely imitating all the indications of life. Amongst several other scenes was a beautiful view of the bay of Naples, and the great bridge ; over which little •*^^^^'^ horses* FICTURESQUE AND MECHANICAL THEATRE. £3; Worses, with their riders, passed in the variwis paces of walking, chap, ti'otting. and galloping. All the minutiae of nature were attended J_ to. The ear was begiiiled with the patting of the horses* hoofs upon, the pavement ; and some of the little animals reared, and ran before the others. There were also some charming little sea-pieces,, in which the vessels sailed with their heads towards the spectators, and manoeuvred in a surprising manner. The whole concluded with a storm, and shipwreck- Sailors were seen floating in the water, then sinking in the surge. One of them rose again, and reached a rock. Boats put off to his relief, and perished in the attempt. The little figure was seen displaying the greatest agonies. The storm subsided ; tiny persons appeared upon the top of a projecting cliff, near a watch tower, and lowered a rope to the little sufferer below, which he caught^ and, after ascending to some height by it, overwhelmed with fatigue, lost his hold. After recovering from the fall, he renewed his efforts, and at length reached the top in safety, amidst the acclamations of the spec- tators, who, moved by this enchanting little illusion, took much interest in the apparent distress of the scene. Upon quitting the theatre, we found a real storm without. The lightning flamed upon us from every quarter, and was s»jcceeded by loud peals of thunder. Whilst we were con- templating the tempest from the balcony of Madame S ^, a ball o£ fire fell very near us, and filled the room with a sulphureous stench.. A servant soon afterwards entered, almost: breathless, to inform his mistress, Madame R , who was ©f the party, that the fire-ball had penetrated her house, which ■ ' was ^2ii^-, FILTRATING AND PURIFYING VASES. CHAP. was close adjoining, without having effected any injury.; ' r Madame R laughed heartily, and observed, " Well, it is ** very droll that the lightning should make so free with my "house when I am not at home." This little sprightly re- mark dispersed the gloom which hiul overshadowed most of the ladies present. All the large houses in Paris are well pro- tected against the perilous effect of electric fluid, hy eon- ductors, which are very judiciously disposed.. An invention has lately made its appearance in Paris, which is as full of utihty as it is of genius. A house has been lately opened for the sale of filtrating and punfymg vases, to which the ingenious constructor has given the most elegant etruscan shapes. They are capable of refining the most fetid and corrupt water, by a process which, in its operation, lasts about four minutes. The principle is the same as in nature. The foul water is thrown into the vase, where it passes through various strata of earth, which are compressed ici a series of little apart- ments, which retain its offensive particles, and from which it issues as clear and as sweet as rock water. This discovery will prove of infinite consequence to families who reside in the maritime parts of Holland, and to many inland towns in France, where the water is frequently very bad. I most cor- dially hope that the inventor will meet with the remuneration which is due to his humane philosophy. After having experienced a most cordial display of kindnesses and hospitalities, I prepared to return to my own country, *' that precious stone set in the silver sea." I had to part with those who, in the short space of one fleeting month, had, by their XXI. A FAREWELL. 233 their endearing and flattering attentions, rivetted themselves to chap. my affections, with the force of a long, and frequent, and cherished intercourse, who, in a country where I expected to feel the comfortless sensations of a foreigner, made me forget ihat I was even a stranger. Amongst those who excited a con- siderable share of my regret upon parting, were the elegant and charming family of the S s. As I was preparing to take my leave, Madame S said, " You must not forget us be- cause a few waves divide our countries." ufio ' *' If he will lend mc Wis pocKct-buuk," said ottc of her lovely daughters, I will try and see if my pencil will not preserve us^in his memory, at least for a little time." I *^7'* "I presented it to her, and in a few minutes she made ari elegant little sketch, which she called " The affectionate Mother." Amiable young artist ! may Time, propitious to the happiness of some generous being, who is worthy of such an associate, hail thee with the blissful appellation! and may the graceful discharge of those rcfined and affecting duties which flow from connubial love, entitle thee, too much esteemed to be envied, to the name of the modern Cornelia ! Several Englishmen, whilst I was at Paris, met with very vexatious delays in procuring their passports to enable them to leave it, frona a mistaken course of application. Instead of applying toi M. Fouche, or any other municipal officer; I, would recommend them to procure their passport from tiiei^ Qwn embassador, and send it to the oflice of Mons. Talleyrand fou his endorsement ; by which means they will be enabled td quit the republic in two or three days after their application. * Of/ H H Having 234? MESSAGERIE. CHAP. Having previously determined to return by the way of Lovi^er ■^^^' Normandy, upon the beauty and luxuriance of which I had heard much eulogy, about half past live o'clock in the morning of the 21st of Prairial, I left my hotel, and proceeded to the Messagerie, from which the diligences, all of which are under the control of the nation, set out. The morning was very beautiful. I was much entertained before I mounted that cumbrous vehicle, which was to roll me a little nearer to my own coast, by viewing the numerous groups of travellers and their friends, whu aurroune pillars in the choir aye, in my humble opinion^ XXI ^ too massy. Preparations were hefe making for the celebra- tion of the great festival called the Feast of God. We pre- sented to one af the priests, who, in the sachristy, was adorning the cradle of our Saviour's image with flowers, some very fine moss roses, which in France are very rare, which he received with great politeness. This festival before the revolution was always superbly celebrated. It was then renewed for the first time since the proscription of religion, during which, all the costly habits of the priests, and rich vessels used in the ceremonies of the church have been stolen, sold,, oe melted down. Near the altar,, which, has been shattered by the ax,e of the revolution, is tlie vault of the norman conqueror.- Upon our return to our hotel, we saw a considerable crowd assembled near the bridge leading to de la Cour. Upon inquiring into the cause of this assemblage, we found it was owmg to a curious rencounter between two- blind beggars,, who, m total darkness, had been waging an. ■ uncertain battle for. near six minutes. It appeared that one of them had for several months,, enjoyed quiet possession of the bridge, which happened to be a great thoroughfare,, and: had during that time, by an undisputed display of his cala- mity, contrived to pick up a comfortable recompense for it; that within a few days preceding this novel, fracas,, ano- ther mendicant, who had equal claims to compassion, allured, by the repute of his success,, had deserted a less frequented part of the city, and had presented himself at the other corner THE TWO BLIND Bfe^GARS. 24,^ corner of the same bridge, where by a more masterly sc- chap. lection of moving phrases, he soon not only divided, but ^^^' monopolized the eleemosynary revenues of this post of wretch- edness. The original possessor naturally grew jealous. Even begg-ars " can bear no brother near the throne." Inflamed with jealousy, he silently moved towards his rival, by the sound of whose voice, which was then sending forth some of its most affecting, and purse-drawing strains, he was enabled to determine whether his arm was within reach of tlie head of his competitor, which circumstance, having with due nicety ascertained, he clenched his fist. Which in weight, size, and firmness, was not much surpassed by the hard, and ponderous paw of a full grown tiger, and with all the force of that propulsion, which a formidable set of muscles afforded, he felled his rival to the ground, and not know- ing that he was fallen, discharged many other blows, which only served to disturb the tranquillity of the air. The re- cumbent hero, whose head was framed for enterprises of this nature, soon recovered from the assault, and, after many un- availing efforts in the dark, at length succeeded in opening one of the vessels of the broad nose of his brawny assailant, whose blood, enriched by good living, streamed out most copiously. In this condition we saw these orbless combatants, who were speedily separated from each other. Some of the crowd were endeavouring to form a treaty of pacification between them, whether they succeeded I know not, for we were obliged to leave the bridge of battle, before these im-i portant points were arranged, to join a pleasant party at I I 2 Mons, 244 BAYEUX. ENNUr. CHAP. Mons. St. J *s, an opulent banker at Caen, to whom I had letters of introduction from Mons. R , the banker of Paris. After spending the short time, during which I was de- tained at Caen, very pleasantly, I resumed my seat in the diligence for Cherbourg, in which I found a very agree- able woman, her two daughters, two canary birds, a cat, and her kitten, who were, I found, to be my companions all the way. After we left Caen, the roads became very bad. Our ponderous machine, frequently rolled from one side to the other, and with many alarming rreakings, threatened US with a heavy, and perilous overthrow. At length we ar- arrived at Bayeux, where we dined, at the house of a friend of my fair fellow traveller, to which she invited me with a tone of welcome, and good wishes, which overpowered all resistance. We sat down to an excellent dinner, at which was produced the usual favourite french dish of cold turbot, and raw artichokes. After our repast, a fine young woman, the daughter of the lady of the house, in a very obliging, but rather grave manner, poured out a tumbler full of some delicious potent liqueur, which, to my no small surprise, she presented me with; upon my only tasting it, and re- turning it, she appeared to be equally surprised, and con- fused. Her mother, observing our mutual embarrassment, in- formed me, that in France it was understood that the eng- lish were troubled with the ennui, or tristesse de coeur, and that they drank large draughts of wine and spirits to expel the gloomy malady. I softened this opinion of our com- XXI. ENNUI. AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM, ' ii4^5 mon character, as well as I could, for, I fear, without of- chap. fering considerable outrage to truth, I could not wholly have denied it. After dinner, we walked to the cathedral, which is a noble gothic pile, and, upon our return, found the diligence in waiting for us. My companions were attended to the door of the carriage by their hospitable friends, between whom several kisses were interchanged. I took an opportunity, just before I mounted the step, of stealing one of these tokens of regard from the fair young damsel who had so courteously offered me the liqueur, at the same time telling licr, that in England, a kiss was always considered as the best remedy for the tristesse de coeur. — Away trotted our little norman steeds; and, notwith- standing they had come all the way from Caen, they soon car- ried us over the hills on this side of Bayeux. The eye com- municated delight to the heart, whilst it contemplated the vast extent of corn fields, which in this fertile province undulated on all sides of us, in waves of yellow exuberance, over which, em- bosomed in trees, at short distances, peeped the peaceful and picturesque abode of the prosperous cottage farmer. The pros- pect afforded an impressive contrast to the impolitic agricultural system, which has lately obtained in England, by which cottage farms are consolidated into ample domains of monopoly, and a baneful preference is given in favour of the rearing of cattle, to the vital and bountiful labours of the plough. A celebrated writer, who well knew in what the real wealth of a nation consisted, has observed, that he who could make two ears af corn grow upon a spot of ground, where only one grew r;- before. ^45 ,'V ST. LO. CHAP, before, would deserve better of mankind than the whole race ^^^* of politicians. The high roads of Normandy are unnecessarily- broad ; hence considerable portions of land remain uncultivated. A spacious road, like every thing which is vast, excites an im- pression of grandeur; but in this prolific department, the fa- cilities of travelling, and the dignity of the country, might be consulted with less waste. This prodigality is perhaps attributable to the highways in France having shared but little of its legislative attention; and accommodation appears to have been sought rather by a lavish allotment of space, than by a judicious formation, and frequent repair. The imis along the road are very poor, although over the door of almost every little cottage is written, in large characters, ^* Bon Cidre de Victoire." There are also no regular post- horses to be met with. The country, on all sides of us, was very mountainous and luxuriant, and much resembled the, southern parts of Devonshire, About seven o'clock in the evening of the same day, we arrived at St. Lo, which is, wuhout exception, the cleanest and most charming, romantic little town, I saw in France. It is fortified, and stands upon the top of a mountain, at whose base is expanded a luxuriant scenery of woods and villages, through which the riviere de Ville winds in beautiful meanders. The inhabitants of this town appeared to be rich and genteel. In the evening I supped at the table d'hote, where there were several pleasant people. At this town we slept, and set oif, the next morning, very early, for Valogne, where we dined ; and in the evening, after passing a con- siderabk extent of rich meadow land, and descending a very CHERBOURa^ 247 steep hill, the freshness of the sea air announced to us our near chap. approach to Cherbourg, where, at the hotel d'Angleterre, I was '^ soon afterwards landed-. For my place and luggage to this place I paid twenty-four livres. My expenses upon the road were very reasonable. Here I had the good fortune to find a packet which mtended to sail to England in two days, the master of which asked me only one guinea for my passage in the cabin, provisions included. However, thinking that the kitchen of a french vessel might, if possible, be more uncleanly than the kitchen of a french inn, I resolved upon providing my own refreshments for the little voyage- Cherbourg is a poor and? dirty town. After having heard so much of its costly works and fortifications for the protection ©f its harbour, my surprise was not litde, upon finding the place so miserable. It is defended by tliree great forts, which are erected upon rocks in the sea. The centre one is about three miles oif from shore, and is garrisoned by 1200 men. At a distance, this fort looks like a vast floating battery. Upon a hne with it,, but divided by a distance suflScient for the admission of shipping, commences the celebrated, stupendous wall, which lias been, erected since the failure of the cones. It is just 'visible at low water. This surprising work is six miles in. leno^th, and; three hundred french feet in breadth, and is composed of massy stones and masonry, which have been sunk for the purpose, and which are now cementedc, by sea weed, their own weight and cohesion, into one immense mass of rock. Upon this wall a chaiii o£ forts is intended to be erected, as soon as the finances of government wili admit of it. The expenses which 248 ' - CHERBOUHG. CHAP, which have already been incurred, in constructing this wonder- ^^^' ful fabric, have, it is said, exceeded two miUions sterling. These costly protective barriers can only be considered as so many monuments, erected by the french to the superior genius and prowess of the british navy, AVhilst I was waiting for the packet's sailing, I received gre^at civihties from Alons. C , the banker and american consul at Cherbourg, to whom I had letters from Mons, R . I rode, the second evening after my arrival, to his country house, which was about nine miles from the town. Our road to it lay over a prolific and mountainous country. From a high point of land, as we passed along, we saw the islands of Guernsey, Jersey and Alderney, which made a beautiful ap- pearance upon the sea. Upon our return, by another road, I was much pleased with a group of little cottages, which were embosomed in a beautiful wood, through which there was an opening to the sea, which the sinking sun had then overspread with the richest lustre. As we entered this scene of rustic repose, the angelus bell of the little village church rang ; and a short time afterwards, as we approached it, a number of villagers came out from the porch, with their mass-books in their hands, their countenances beaming with happiness and illuminated by the sinking sun, which shone full upon them. The charms of this simple scene arrested our progress for a short time. .Under some spreading limes, upon a sloping lawn, the cheerful cottagers closed the evening with dancing to the sounds oi' one of the sweetest flagelets I ever heard, which was alternately played by several performers, who relieved each other. In . >v ' France, NORMAN HORSES. France, every man is a musician. 'Goldsmith's charming picture of his Auburn, in its happier times, recurred to me : — ** When toil remitting, lends its turn to play,. " And all the village train, from labour free, " Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree." 249 CHAP. XXI. The cross roads of France are very bad ; but, to my surprise, although we never could have had a worse specimen of them than what this excursion presented to us, yet the norman hunter upon which I was mounted, carried me over the deepest ruts, and abrupt hillocks, without showing the least symptom of infirmity which so much prevails amongst his brethren of the Devonshire breed. The norman horses are remarkable for lift- ing their feet high, and the safety and ease with which they carry their riders. In the morning of the day in which the packet was to sail, a favourable breeze sprung up ; and, after undergoing the usual search of the revenue officers, in the execution of which they behaved with much civility, I em- barked, and bade adieu to continental ground. The vessel had the appearance of being freighted with hot bread, with which the deck was covered from one end to the other. This im- mense collection of smoking loaves was intended for the supply of six men, and one woman, during a passage which we ex- pected to accomplish in thirty hours, or less ! • j baA " The faithful associate of our young captain, to whom, she had just been married, either from motives of fondness or distrust, resolved upon sharing with him the perils bfthe'bceilri. '^ B:q gniDin ;. :;t ; each other foreigners. . _ .i£ ,nojji;iov3i 2L: 1 Jealousy, competition, and consequent warfare, have, for ages, produced an artificial distance and separation, much wider, and more impassable, than nature ever intended, by the division which she has framed ; hence, whilst the un- assisted eye of the islander can, from his own shores, with ** unwet feet,** behold the natural barrier of his continental neighbour, he knows but little more of his real character and liabits, than of those of beings, who are more distantly removed from him, by many degrees of the great circle. The events which have happened in France for the last eleven years, have rendered this separation more severe, and during that long and gloomy interval, have wholly changed the national character. Those who once occupied the higher class in the ascending scale of society, and who have sur- vived the revolution without leaving their country, arc no longer able to display the taste and munificence which once distinguished them. In the capital, those who formerly were accustomed to have their court yards nightly filled with carriages, and their staircases lined with lacqueys, are now scarcely able to occupy one third of their noble abodes. They cannot even enjoy the ^common observances of friendship, . »/« i^^ \k. A- ii and GENERAL REMARKS. 253 and hospitality, without pausing, and resorting to calculation. A new, race of beings called the ** nouveaux enriches," whose: , services have been chiefly auxiliary to the war, at present absorb the visible wealth of the nation. Amongst them are many respectable p^ers(5ns. The lower orders of the people have l^een taught, by restless visionaries, to consider the destinations^ of Providence, ,which had before, by an imperceptible grada- tion of social colouring, united the russet brown to the magis- terial purple, as usurpations over those natural rights which tave been impressed without illustration, and magnified by sC mischievous mystery. In the fip.rrp pureult of thcoc imaginary' hnmunities, which they had been taught to believe had been long withheld, they abruptly renounced all deference and decorum, as perilous indications of the fallacy of their inde-^ finable pretensions, and were not a little encouraged by the disastrous desertion of their superiors, who fled at the first , alarm. In short, the revolution has, in general, made the higher orders poor, and dispirited, and the lower barbarous, and insolent, whilst a third class has sprung up, with the silence ^ and suddenness of an exhalation, higher than both, without participating in the original character of either, in which the principles of computation, and the vanity of wealth, are at awkward variance. orbiw ; .-.Until lately, the ancient french and the modern french were antipodes, but they are now converging, under a go^ vernmcnt, which, in point of security, and even of mildness; • has no resemblance, since the first departure from the ancient establishments. The french, like the libertine son, after having pd ' plunged 254t GENERAL REMARKS. plunged in riot and excesses, subdued by wretchedness, are returning to order and civilization. Unhappy people, their tears have almost washed away their offences — tliey have suf-* fered to their heart's core. Who will not pity them to see their change, and hear their tales of misery ? Yet, strange to relate, in the midst of their sighs and sufferings, they recount, with enthusiasm, the exploits of t' 3se very men, whose heroic ambition has trampled upon their best hopes, and proudest prosperity. Dazzled by the brilliancy of the spreading flame^ they forget that their own abode is involved in its desolation^ and augments tho gloon^y grandeur of the scene. To this- cause may, perhaps, be traced that singular union of grief and gayety, which affords rather an impressive contrast to the more solemn consistency of english sadness. The terrible ex- periment which they haye tried, has, throughout, presented a ferocious contest for power, which has only served to dete- riorate their condition, sap their vigour, and render them too feeble either to continue the contest, or to reach the frontier ^ of their former character. In this condition they have been found by a man who, with the precedent of history in one hand, and the sabre in the other, has, unstained with the crimes of Cromwell, possessed himself of the sovereignty ; and,, like Augustus, without the propensities which shaded his early life, preserved the name of a republic, whilst he well knows that a decisive and irresistible authority can alone reunite a people so vast and distracted ; who, in the pursuit of a fatal phantom, have been inured to change, and long alienated from subordination ► I would not wish such a government to be GENERAL REMARKS, 1>55 be perpetual, but if it be conducted with wisdom and justice, I will not hesitate to declare, that I think it will ultimately prove as favourable to the happiness, as it has been propitious to the glory of the french. A government which breathes a martial spirit under a thin appearance of civil polity, presents but a barren subject to the consideration of the inquirer. When the sabre is changed into the sceptre, the science of legislation is short, simple, and decisive. Its energies are nei-i- ther entangled in abstract distinctions, nor much impeded by the accustomed delays of deliberation. From the magnitude of tlie present ruling establishment in France, and the judicious distribution of its powers, and confidence, the physical strength can scarcely be said to re- side in the governed, A great portion of the population participates in the cha- racter of the government. The bayonet is perpetually flash- ing before the eye. The remark may appear a little ludi- crous, but in the capital almost every man who is not near sighted is a soldier, and every soldier of the republic consi- ders himself as a subordinate muiister of state. In short the whole political fabric is a refined system of knight's service. Seven centuries are rolled back, and from the gloom of time behold the crested spirit of the norman hero advance, *' with " beaver up," and nod his sable plumes, in grim approval of the novel, gay, and gaudy feodality. If such an expectation may be entertained, that time will replace the ancient family on the throne, I am far from believing that it can offer much consolation to the illustrious wanderer. 256 GENERAi; REMARKS. wanderer, who as yet, has only tast^^d of the name of sove- reignty. If the old royalty is ever restored, it is my opi- nion, and I offer it with becoming deference, that, from personal hatred to the present titular monarch, and the dread of retaliation by a lineal revival of monarchy, the crov/n will be placed upon the brows of one of the collateral branches of the expatriated family. The prince de Cond^ is the only member of that august house, of whom the french speak with esteem, and approbation. : The treasury of the french is, as may be expected, not overflowing, but its resources must speedily become ample. The necessities ot the siaie, ui lathci the peculations of its former factious leaders, addressed themselves immediately to the purses of the people, by a summary process completely predatory. Circuitous exaction has been, till lately, long dis- carded. The present rulers have not yet had sufficient time to digest, and perfect a financial system, .by which the esta* blishments of the country may be supported by indirect, and unoffending taxation. Wisdom and genius must long, and ardently labour, before the ruins, and rubbish of the revo- lution can be removed. Every effort hitherto made to raise the< deciduous credit of the republic has been masterly, and forcibly bespeaks tlie public hope, and confidence in favou-r bf every future measure. The armies of the republic are i-mmense j they have hither- to been paid, and maintained hy the countries which they have subdued ; their exigencies, unless they are employed, will in ftir ture form an embarrassing subject of consideration in the ap- , -- , proaching GENEItAL REMARKS. 25.7 proacliiiig system of finance. This mighty body of men, wlip are very moderately paid, are united by the remembrance of their glory, and the proud consideration that they constitute a powerful part of the government ; an impression which every french soldier cherishes. They also derive some pride, even from their discipline: a military delinquent is not subject to ignoble punishment ; if he offend, he suffers as a soldier. Imprisonment, or death, alone displaces him from the ranks. He is not cut down fainting, and covered with the igno- minious wounds of the dissecting scourge, and sent to lan- guish in the reeking wards of hospitals. In reviewing the present condition of France, the liberal mind will contemplate many events with pleasure, and will suspend its final judgment, until wisdom, and genius shall repose from their labours, and shall proclaim to the people, " behold the work is done.** It has been observed, that in reviewing the late war, two of the precepts of the celebrated author of " The Prince," will hereafter be enshrined in the judgments of politicians, and will be as closely adhered to, as they have been boldly disregarded by that great man, who, till lately, has long pre- sided over the britlsh councils. Machiavel has asserted, that no country ought to declare war w4th a nation which, at the time, is in a state of internal commotion; and that, in the prosecution of a war, the refugees of a belligerent power ought not to be confidentially trusted by the opposite nation which receives them. Upon violating the former, those he- terogeneous parties, which, >if left to themselves, will always L L embarrass '258 GENERAL REMARKS. embarrass the operations of their government, become united by a common cause ; and by offending against the latter clause of this cautionary code, a perilous confidence is placed in th-e triumph of gratitude, and private pique, over that great love which nature plants and warmly cherishes in the breast of every man, for his country. In extenuation of a departure from these political maxims it may be urged, that the french excited the war, and that in the pursuit of it, they displayed a com- pound spirit, which Machiavel might well think problema- tical, for whilst that country never averted its eye from the common enemy, it never ceased to groan under the inflic- tions of unremitting factions. Rather less can be said in pal- liation of the fatal confidence, which was placed by the eng- lish government in some of the french emigrants. I have mentioned these unhappy people in the a:ggregate, with the respect which I think they deserve. To be protected, and not to betray, was all that could in fairness, and with safety be expected from them; it was hazarding too much to put swords in their hands, and send them to their own shores to plunge them in the breasts of their own countrymen : in such an enterprise '* The native hue of resolution " Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought." The brave have not frequently wept over such a victim as Sombrieul. Whether the experiment of repelling those machinations which GENERAL REMARKS. 259 which warred against all established order, and all sancti- oned usage, by a novel, and unnatural opposifiort, is attri- butable to any other cause, than that of a misjudging prin- ciple, must be decided by Him, whose mighty hand sus- pended the balance of the batde, and whose eye can, at a glance, pierce through the labyrinth of human obliquity, however compact, shaded, or cancealed. If the late minister is charge- able with a prolongation of the war, if he is responsible for having misplaced his confidence, and if brave men have pe- rished by the fatal delusion, he will find some, if not ampib consolation. In reflecting, that by his vigilance, and vigour, he has saved his country from the miseries of a revolutionary frenzy, which has rendered, even our enemies, the objects of our sympathy, and compassion. Such is the narrowness of our nature, that we know not how adequately to appreciate our preservation from an inter- cepted evil: it is indistincdy seen, like a distant object. The calamity must touch before its powers and magnitude can be estimated. The flames of the neighbouring pile, must stop at our very doors^ before our gratitude becomes animated with its highest energies. If Providence were to unfold to us all the horrours which we have escaped; if all the blood which would have followed the assassin's dagger were to roll in seeking streams before us; if the full display of irreligion,. flight, massacre, confiscation, imprisonment and famine, which would have graced a revolutionary triumph in these realms, were to be unbarred to our view, how should we recoil frojm. the ghastly spectacle ! With what emotions of admiration and esteem jL L 2- should. 260 p. RECClR-StP 2ST J HPT 1 1 1^^^'^ UU 1 -L i •- '^ ^^^^ M999 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY FORM NO. DD6, 40m, 3/78 BERKELEY, CA 94720 ®$ ivi2l6814 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY BERKELEY Return to desk from which borrowed. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. DEC 29 194/ 23Nov'54CC W0vaiia54i(| , 22Apr59VF ''erc'D f '^-4P|I3 6 r.O. CIS-FQ 1 5 ''fi 6 my l5lioy'^ NOV I RECD LD 21-100m-9,'47(A5702sl6)476 ^'CIH.SQ> ^^'7t j i