* 
 
JOURNAL 
 
 OF A 
 
 TOUR 
 
 THROUGH PART OF FRANCE, FLANDERS, 
 AND HOLLAND, 
 
 INCLUDING A 
 
 VISIT TO PARIS, 
 
 AND A 
 
 WALK OVER THE FIELD of WATERLOO: 
 
 MADE IN THE SUMMER OF 1816. 
 
 BY 
 
 SETH WILLIAM STEVENSON. 
 
 Forsan ct hcec olim memznissejuvabit. 
 
 Virg, JEx. 
 
 NORWICH: 
 
 PRINTED (NOT FOR SALE) AT THE NORFOLK CHRONICLE PRESS, 
 BY STEVENSON, MATCHETT, AND STEVENSON 
 
 1817. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/journaloftourthrOOstev 
 
INSCRIBED TO THE ABBOT AND BRETHREN 
 OP " THE SOCIETY OF UNITED FRIARS — 
 FOR THE PARTICIPATION OP USEFUL 
 KNOWLEDGE," AS A SMALL TESTIMONY 
 OF RESPECT AND FRATERNAL REGARD, 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 a Book, not designed for sale,, few words 
 may suffice by way of Preface. The follow- 
 ing pages, composed from Notes made by the 
 Author during a visit to the Continent in 
 181 6, constitute the result of the occupation of 
 various leisure hours employed on his return ; 
 and, as a literary contribution, (certainly a 
 very humble one) they were read by him, 
 in the course of the last winter, at the meet- 
 ings of that Fraternity to whom they are 
 now dedicated. With no further view or 
 wish than that of acceding to the request of 
 kind approvers, " The Journal" was subse- 
 quently consigned to the Press. But circum- 
 stances, unnecessary here to be mentioned, 
 from time to time interrupting the printing, 
 
vi 
 
 have delayed its appearance so much beyond 
 the period at first contemplated,, that even 
 within the limited range of private circulation 
 many of the subjects noticed in the work, if 
 not altogether deemed too trivial, will yet, it 
 is to be apprehended, appear to have lost their 
 chief interest— the interest which arises out of 
 the more lively impression of recent events- 
 Other objects there are, in having selected 
 which either for description or remark, the 
 writer has nothing to regret— except indeed 
 his own want of ability to do justice to their 
 respective merits and importance. On a beaten 
 track, like the one in question, the absence of 
 novelty can be but ill supplied by any feature 
 of originality to which he can lay claim. In 
 this respect, he feels how much the attempt 
 stands in need of the reader's indulgence,— 
 With reference to the pervading tone of po- 
 litical opinion, or of moral feeling, he has 
 no apology to offer : his ideas on those topics 
 are grounded on fixed principles, and to 
 the expression of them, here, the proudest 
 and most cherished sentiments of his heart are 
 
vii 
 
 faithfully responsive. If, in those friendly 
 eyes,, before which alone this volume was 
 destined to be laid, it should prove only half 
 so acceptable for the amusement found in 
 the perusal, as the avocation of writing it 
 was rendered pleasant to himself by recalling 
 to mind the successive incidents of a short 
 foreign excursion, the Author will be more 
 than satisfied. And should it perchance, ac- 
 quiring a slight share of publicity, fall under 
 the notice of those to whom by name and 
 character he is unknown, then the sole favor 
 for him to ask at the hands of €S the stranger'* 
 would be, that what is imparted without pre* 
 sumption may not be treated with severity* 
 
 Norwich^ September^ 1817*. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. I. — Reflections on crossing the Channel—Brighton 
 — Dieppe— contrasted features of the two Places — Re- 
 marks on some of the characteristic differences between 
 the English and French — Churches and Castle at 
 Dieppe . . • . Page 1 to 11. 
 
 CHAP. IL— Journey from Dieppe — The Country People— 
 An English woman travelling on foot to Naples — Agri- 
 culture — Game Laws— Approach to Rouen — Delightful 
 Scenery — Historical Associations of Normandy with Eng- 
 land : 4 ' * • i P. 12 to 20. 
 
 CHAP. III. — RouEtf — Cathedral Church — Benedictine 
 Abbey of Saint Ouen — Palace of the Ancient Parliament 
 -*-Place de la Pucelle-* Interesting antiquity of the 
 City— Suburb of St. Sever — Corneille — The New Boule- 
 vards — Botanic Garden — Remarks on the political and 
 commercial state of Rouen— Prospect from Mount St. 
 Catherine — Extent and traffic of the Place — Revolu- 
 tionary destruction of Religious Establishments — Female 
 Dress • •••••••• P. 21 to 34. 
 
 B 
 
X 
 
 CHAP. IV. — Departure from Rouen — Hyperbolical appel- 
 latives for travelling Conveyances— Temerity of Foot 
 Passengers — Beggars — Pomposity of French Designa- 
 tions—The Velocifere — Comparative remarks on English 
 Stage Coaches and French Diligences, Guards and Cow- 
 ducteurs. Drivers and Postilions — Village Dilapidations 
 -—Forlorn Chateaux — Approach to Paris . P. 35 to 45# 
 
 CHAP. V. — Paris — Reflections on revisiting it — Peram- 
 bulation the First — Square of the Carousal, its alterations 
 and novelties — Triumphal Arch — Restorations and im- 
 provements in the Louvre — Palace and Gardens of the 
 Thuilleries — New Street of Rivoli — Buonaparte's Column 
 in the Place Vendome — Observations on it — French pre- 
 tensions to Roman greatness P. 46 to 60* 
 
 CHAP. VI. — Paris — Second Perambulation — New Market 
 place des Jacobins — Churches of the Magdalen and the 
 Assumption — The Elysian Fields — Place of Louis XV. — - 
 Grandeur of its surrounding objects—Reflections on the 
 Murder of the King and Queen of France— Place des 
 Victoires — Palais Royal ♦ P. 6l to 69. 
 
 CHAP. VII. — Excursion to St. Germain and Mal 
 Maison — Cabriolets — Environs of Paris — Gardes du 
 Corps of the King of France — Chateau and Terrace of 
 St. Germain — Housekeeping in France— Walk in the 
 Forest of St. Germain— Mal Maison — Reflections on the 
 Character of Josephine and of Napoleon . P. 70 to 89» 
 
 CHAP. VIII Paris— Third Perambulation— The King's 
 
 Library — Boulevards of Montmartre and the Temple-^-* 
 Place de la Bastille — Fountain of the Elephant — The 
 Duchess of Angouleme — Manufactory of Mirrors — Place * 
 
XI 
 
 lioyale — Mar die des Tnnocens — Rue de la Ferronerie— 
 Halle au Bles — Church of St. Eustache — The New Ex- 
 change P. 90 to 101 
 
 CHAP. IX.— Paris— Fourth Perambulation— The Ci/e— 
 Church of St. Germain PAuxerrois — Pont Neuf— Vigier's 
 Baths — Palais de Justice — Cathedral of Notre Dame — 
 Preparations for a Royal Fete — Hotel Dieu — Sosurs de la 
 Charlie — Place de Greve and Hotel de Ville — Reflections 
 on the French Revolution P. 102 to 112. 
 
 CHAP, X. — Excursion to Versailles— Public Car- 
 riages — Streets of Paris, dangerous for foot passengers- 
 Communicativeness of the Parisians— The Bois de Bou- 
 logne — Place of encampment of the British troops — Bridge 
 of St, Cloud — Hatred of the French to the Prussians — 
 Town of Versailles — Ciceroni— r-Buonaparte's Federes — 
 Former and present state of Versailles — Trianon — Gar- 
 dens — Baths of Apollo — Orangery — Grand Terrace- 
 Interior of the Palace — Gallerie du Rot — Remarks on the 
 character and policy of Louis XIV. . » JP, 113 to 130. 
 
 CHAP. XI.— Paris— Visit to the Thuilleries— Hall of the 
 Marshals — Ceremony of the King's going to Mass — Visit 
 to the Picture and Statue Galleries at the Louvre — Re- 
 marks on the restitution of the Works of Art P. 131 to 139« 
 
 CHAP. X1L— Paris— The Pont des Arts— Palace of the 
 Institute — The Monnaies — Museum of French Monu- 
 ments — Observations on the magnitude, arrangement, and 
 object of that Collection — Strictures on the principle on 
 ^hich it is now continued . . . • • P. 140 to 147* 
 
 B % 
 
xii 
 
 CHAP. XIII.— Excursion to St. Denis and Mont- 
 martre— State of the Abbey of St. Denis in 1802 and in 
 1816 — Its Monuments still remain deposited in the Mu- 
 seum at Paris— -Objections to this retention— Architecture 
 of the Church — Modern Sacristy — Expiatory Altars — 
 Exhumations in 93 — Montmartre — Traces of War — View 
 from the summit of the Heights— Connection, historical 
 and moral, between Montmartre and St. Denis — Church 
 of Montmartre— Ruins of the Abbey — New-built Slaughter 
 houses at the entrance of the Suburbs of Paris 
 
 P. 148 to 162. 
 
 CHAP. XIV.— Par^s— Ecole de Medecine—VaUce of the 
 Luxembourg — Jardin des Plantes — The Pantheon — Visit 
 to the Catacombs — Library of St. Genevieve — Churches 
 of St. Sulpice and St. Etienne du Mont — Parisian Ca- 
 tholicism j • . • . P. 163/0 18 U 
 
 CHAP. XV. — Excursion t® Vincennes — The Castles- 
 Remains of the Duke of Enghien lying there in state — 
 Remarks on the murder of that unfortunate Prince 
 
 P. 182 to 186. 
 
 CHAP. XVI.— Excursion to St. Cloud, &c— The 
 Palace— Gardens and Park— A Sunday in Paris and its 
 Environs— Tivoli Gardens . . . . • P. 18? to 197. 
 
 CHAP. XVII.— Paris— The Chamber of Deputies— The 
 Hotel and Chapel of the Invalids — The Porcelain Ma- 
 nufactory of Sevres . • P. 3Q8 to 206. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. — Recollections of Paris— The Police— 
 The English in Paris— Coach Offices— Hotels — Perre- 
 gaux's Banking-house— The Theatres— Remarks on the 
 
xiii 
 
 Palais Royal— Restaurateurs and CafTes— Gaming Tables 
 « — Streets — Costume^-Frencb Women — Caricatures — Mi- 
 litary Character— Manners of the lower and middling 
 Classes . . . , P. 207 to 242. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. — Journey ^rom Paris to Brussels— 
 Diligence companions and conversations- — Peronne- — > 
 Cambray— Miseries of Stage-coach travelling — Bouchain 
 — Valenciennes — English robbers and French protectors 
 — Mons — The Douaniers — Entrance into Belgium 
 
 P. 243 to 26 1. 
 
 CHAP. XX.— Brussels— Churches of St. Gudule, Con- 
 denburg, and the Sablon — The Place Royale — Park- 
 Palace — Allee Verte — The Great Market-place — Hotel 
 de Ville — The Museum — Restored Pictures — Visit to 
 Lacken— The Opera-house .... P. 262 to 27 1 • 
 
 CHAP. XXL— Excursion to Waterloo— Ride through 
 the Forest of Soignies — Villages of Waterloo and Mont 
 St. Jean— Walk over the Field of Battle— Reflections at 
 the first glance of the scene — The British and French 
 positions — La Haye Sainte — Buonaparte and the Duke 
 of Wellington, their respective conduct at and after the 
 battle compared— La Belle Alliance — Chateau of Hogou- 
 mont — Sentiments of the Peasantry respecting the Eng- 
 lish, French, and Prussian troops — Local accuracy of Mr. 
 Henry Barker's Panorama — Waterloo Church and Ce- 
 metery P. 272 to 295. 
 
 CHAP. XXII.— Brussels — Streets— Fountains — Car- 
 riages — Markets — Cursory remarks on the manners, dress, 
 habits, and politics of the Bruxellais — Pleasing instances 
 of attention from Strangers — Accommodation of an Hotel 
 at Brussels • • P. 296 to 304. 
 
xiv 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. — Journey in the Diligence, through Vil- 
 vorde and Mechlin to Antwerp — The Cathedral of 
 Antwerp — Restored Pictures — Museum of Paintings — 
 Church of St. James — Tomb of Rubens — Promenade 
 ofBerchem P. 305 to 318. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV Antwerp— The Basin and Port— Im- 
 punity to Gallic outrages — Prospect from the Tower of 
 the Cathedral — The Walcheren Expedition — Architec- 
 tural, popular, and religious features of the place — Re- 
 marks on its ancientimportance and present insignificance 
 as a Commercial City— Journey to Breda and Rotterdam 
 
 P. 319 to 335. 
 
 CHAP. XXV.— Rotterdam— Trade its presiding genius 
 —Statue of Erasmus — The Great Church — Calvinistic 
 Worship — Excursion to Delft and the Hague — The 
 Fishermen's Fair at Flaarding — Notices of Dutch cos- 
 tume, manners, and customs — Short stay in and sudden 
 departure from Holland — Conclusion of the Journal. 
 
 P. 336 to 349« 
 
JOURNAL, &c 
 
 »»«Mli' 
 
 chap. i. 
 
 Reflections on crossing the Channel — Brighton— Dieppe — 
 contrasted features of the two Places — Remarks on some of 
 the characteristic differences between the English and 
 French — Churches and Castle at Dieppe. 
 
 May 16th and 17th. 
 
 FoR what purpose are we quitting our otyn Shores ? 
 To travel more expeditiously, and at the same time 
 more pleasantly, than we have been accustomed to do ? 
 No ; we must not hope to find, on the other side, any 
 thing more convenient or more suitable than the light* 
 built, well suspended, neatly painted, handsomely lined 
 vehicle on four wheels, with its frequent changes of 
 excellent horses, its smart, skilful coachman of re- 
 spectable appearance and deportment, that brought us 
 down, over the best of roads, from London to Brighton, 
 at the rate of eight miles an hour ; nor any thing more 
 clettnly, more independent, more home-like, than the 
 accommodation of an English Inn. What are we 
 leaving England to see ? A country more captivating 
 
 B 
 
from the richness, more interesting from the variety of its 
 scenery ? Speaking from what I have already witnessed, 
 and from much more which I am acquainted with only 
 by description, there is no cause for sanguine expectation 
 that the circuit of our projected excursion will present 
 to us, in that respect, advantages superior to those we are 
 leaving behind : or that we shall find, on the whole, a spot 
 more favoured by nature, more adorned and perfection- 
 ated by art — abounding more in those features which 
 give rise to ideas of the sublime and the beautiful, or in 
 those peculiar attractions which the efforts of industry, 
 and the influence of civilization, combine in super- 
 adding to the native charms of the landscape. No, nor 
 where " the growtli of man," where human powers, 
 bodily and mental, beep more equal pace with the 
 vigour that displays itself in the woods, and the luxu- 
 riance that shines in the fields : where the order of 
 society is established on a firmer basis ; or where a 
 higher standard of morality regulates the sentiments 
 and conduct. In no country (it may safely be aflirnied) 
 are the Laws so effectual in themselves, or so powerfully 
 yet so mercifully administered, for the protection of 
 individual interest, and the support of national freedom. 
 With these impressions indelibly engraven on, and 
 proudly cherished in my heart, I leave for awhile the 
 land that gave me birth — 
 
 " Blest Isle, with matchless Beauty crown'd, 
 " And manly hearts to guard the Fair" — 
 
 my object, that of comparing again, and with somewhat 
 more matured conceptions than on a former occasion, 
 the quantum of blessings, we enjoy, w ith that possessed 
 by a great and rival state. Attached to the economy of 
 English life ; conviuced of its eminent claims to pre* 
 
3 
 
 fercnce in all those nameless points of delicacy and 
 consistency, which form that aggregate of satisfaction 
 expressed by the term comfort, and which certainly 
 constitute the most permanent source of social and intel- 
 lectual enjoyment ; — yet at the same time freely dis- 
 posed to make every due concession, and to give the 
 benefit of every indulgent construction, that may be re- 
 quired by the difference of habitudes and opinions long 
 established and deeply rooted : to discard illiberal pre- 
 judices, adhering only to what candour and reflection 
 alike acknowledge as justifiable prepossessions ; and, with 
 this temper, to enter into the spirit of the people, as far 
 as that is to be fathomed by the transient observation 
 and intercourse which a short visit may afford opportu- 
 nities of forming. With thoughts of this kind was my 
 mind occupied, as, standing on the deck of our packet 
 boat, I beheld the high cliff's stretching their defensive 
 mounds of chalky rock along the French shore, as far 
 as the eye could reach either way, in one bold line, un- 
 broken and uninterrupted, except where the river Arcq 
 pours forth her " tributary stores" into the ocean, 
 through the port of Dieppe. 
 
 To begin with proper attention to dates, as becomes a 
 matter of fact man, and a journalist, it was Friday, 
 the 17th of May. Captain M. and myself had em- 
 barked, about six o'clock the preceding evening, on 
 board the Prince Regent, in Brighthelmstone roads, after 
 a pleasurable ride to the coast, for it shall not be loaded 
 with the heavy appellation, as it was unattended with the 
 fatigue or ennui, of njournei/. 
 
 Arrived at Brighton, and learning that a packet 
 would sail that evening, we had the baggage conveyed 
 to, and passed at the custom-house. While dinner was 
 
 B2 
 
4 
 
 getting ready, we perambulated a portion of this over- 
 grown town, to which not being entirely a stranger, 1 
 served as cicerone to my friend in a walk through the 
 Steine, and a circuit round the demesne of the Pavil- 
 lion; objects which, however far famed, drew from 
 him no exclamation of a warmer kind than that u those 
 are blessed who expect nothing" I had experienced 
 the same disappointment before him, and had no other 
 consolation to offer for his being thus baulked of a pro* 
 menade and a palace, than that of reminding him (in the 
 language of Sterne) that " they order those things better 
 in France!" Returned to our Inn, we proceeded to 
 Jine our stomachs with various sorts of stout fencing 
 against the anticipated attacks of the maladie de mer 9 
 and afterwards took the further precaution of furnishing 
 ourselves with some cold provisions from mine host's 
 larder. Thus properly charged, we took boat, amidst 
 a pelting storm of rain, and were aboard at eight 
 o'clock, when we weighed anchor and set sail. The 
 wind, however, which from the first had been both slight 
 and unfavourable, failed in the night altogether ; and in 
 ihe morning, at six o'clock, on leaving my birth, 
 refreshed by a sound sleep, and unaffected by the least 
 tendency to, sickness, I found Brighton was still in sight. 
 Our vessel had its full complement of passengers ; about 
 an equal proportion of English and French, male and 
 female ; but, there having been nothing particularly 
 worthy of remark, either in the character of the indi- 
 viduals or in the incidents of the voyage, pass we on to 
 say that it was not till two o'clock in the afternoon that 
 We entered the fine harbour of Dieppe, against one of 
 the stone piers of which a blundering French pilot, who 
 as usual forced his services upon the Captain, was 
 within an ace of running us. 
 
5 
 
 The forcible sensations which affect the mind at the 
 lirst entry into a foreign place, can never perhaps be 
 wholly renewed. There will, indeed, necessarily be 
 wanting that most powerful of stimulants, the impres- 
 sion of novelty, which before had so great a share in 
 producing those peculiar feelings. In the case, how- 
 ever, of a transplantation (if I may borrow such an 
 expression) from British to French ground, so much of 
 what is striking arises out of the contrast of the scene 
 presenting itself^ to that so recently quitted, that the 
 visit must be often repeated, before it ceases to ex- 
 cite an interest more lively than can possibly be felt in 
 any of our travels at home. 
 
 Fourteen years had elapsed since I was last at Dieppe. 
 In that time the opposite town of Brighton had nearly 
 doubled itself in size and population ; enjoying the 
 continual encrease of that adventitious prosperity, which 
 its local and courtly advantages had acquired for it, as 
 the marine villa of the Prince, and as the sea lounge 
 of the Capital. Dieppe, on the other hand, presented 
 itself to my view like an old acquaintance with an un- 
 altered countenance. The same singular-looking figures, 
 men, women, and children, lined the piers, making 
 a grotesque procession, with our tow-ropes in their hands, 
 to bring the vessel to its destined place at the quay. 
 The males, in motley costume, half soldiers, half sailors ; 
 cocked hats on the heads of some ; wooden shoes on the 
 feet of many ; and a shabbiness in the appearance of 
 almost all. The females, in short petticoats of scarlet 
 or blue stuff, bunching out at the hips — their broad and 
 lofty coefureS) of w hich the w hiteness is set off by the 
 brown and often sallow tinge of their complexions, and 
 the ebon hue of their hair. I recognized the same im- 
 
6 
 
 portunity of service ; the same perseverance of men~ 
 dicity ; the same litter and bad smells in the streets, 
 and the same dirty appearance in the buildings. 
 
 In Dieppe, a newly-erected house is almost as great a 
 rarity as an old looking edifice is at Brighton. I verily 
 believe that our chamber, at honest Monsieur de la 
 Hue's had not experienced the astonishment of being re- 
 furnished, nor the luxury of a washed floor, since I slept 
 in it before ! In that interval, (no trifling one in the 
 scope of a man's life) it is true that the great Caravansera 
 of State, in France, had been, in succession, meuble a la 
 republicaine^ meuble a Pimperiale$ then a la ror/ale y 
 a Vimperiale^ and now a la royale again. And yet, who 
 shall say it is a people given to change ; when 1 can 
 affirm that the best double-bedded room of the Hotel 
 de Londres still retains its pavilion couches and plate 
 glass mirrors, faded and deteriorated relics of the ancien 
 regime ; that still its plastered clay floor strikes a chill 
 to unaccustomed feet ; and by various other points 
 of recognizance, the whole inn proves its identity with 
 former recollections ! 
 
 Dieppe is a place of great antiquity; but the castle, 
 tvhose massy walls, crowning the left cliff with picturesque 
 majesty, command the tow n and harbour ; the churches, 
 the tower des Crabes, at the end of the quay, and a castel- 
 lated building at the foot of the bridge, used as a prison, 
 appear to be almost the only vestiges of its earlier days. 
 Having been laid in ruins by the bombardment of the 
 English fleet, in 1694, it was a few years after entirely 
 rebuilt, and, in consequence, wears an aspect very dis- 
 similar from other towns in this department. A Mon- 
 sieur Le Carpentier, who has published an useful Guide 
 
 * Furnished after the Republican fashion. 
 
for Strangers visiting Rouen and places in its neigh- 
 bourhood, in reference to the event above mentioned, 
 observes, (with the random guess of a Frenchman who 
 has never quitted his own shores,) that " in viewing 
 Dieppe he is tempted to imagine himself transported to 
 the other side of the channel" What degree of re- 
 semblance another bombardment might be the means of 
 its assuming, T neither know, nor desire should be tried : 
 but of this I am certain, that there are many circum- 
 stances, besides those of architectural affinity, which 
 must undergo a radical change before Dieppe will offer 
 the picture of an English town; for though its streets 
 are broad and straight, and the houses constructed oiwi 
 scale of uniformity and even of grandeur, yet the most 
 glaring appearances of dilapidation and neglect pervade 
 the whole. In vain one looks for that neat and cleanly 
 arrangement, which exhibits itself in the shops and pri- 
 vate houses in England. Windows only partly sup- 
 plied with glass, and the deficiencies made up with paper, 
 or not at all ; grass growing on the parapets ; with num- 
 berless other indications of a most careless and slovenly- 
 spirit, almost induce a belief that these folks were only al- 
 lowed to inhabit the houses that were built for them, on 
 the condition of suffering them to tumble about their ears, 
 unretarded in their progress to decay and ruin, even by 
 the intervention of the simple arts of plumbing, glazing, 
 and painting ! H ow different all this, from that feeling of 
 pride which the least affluent among us take in the im- 
 provement, preservation, and embellishment of their pro- 
 perty. This, indeed, is the great and striking point of 
 contrast in the respective characters of the two nations. 
 And on this fact, as intimately connected with the deve- 
 lopement of industrious and domestic qualifications, 
 
8 
 
 may, I think, without presumption, be grounded one of 
 our strongest claims to the title of being the superior 
 people. 
 
 But although, in the respects that I have just named, 
 they are so far behind us, the inhabitants of Dieppe ap- 
 pear to be wanting neither in civility nor in intelligence. 
 The women, especially those of the middling class, 
 (whose provincial dress, with all its antiquated singu- 
 larity, is not wholly unbecoming) are particularly well 
 behaved, and very affable and communicative. In 
 them, indeed, the national character for politeness and 
 urbanity seems to have been sustained, and carried 
 through the storms of the Revolution, less impaired 
 than in the men. And even the latter have shaken off 
 much of that rudeness and vulgarity which, in the days 
 of mischievous affectation, were put on with the tri- 
 colour cockade, as badges of patriotism and republican 
 equality. In spite of all that time, and their own cri- 
 minal folly, have done to alter the people, of whom 
 Sterne has given us so animated a description ; still, 
 at almost every step we go, and in every incident we 
 meet with, appear the counterparts of those originals 
 from whence he drew his inimitable sketches, bearing 
 testimony to the faithful pencil and discriminative 
 powers of that accurate observer of men and manners. 
 As to the willing disposition with which a stranger's en- 
 quiries arc satisfied, I have myself been indebted, in fm* 
 merous instances, to individuals of both sexes, fortuit* 
 ously applied to among various classes of society, 
 when at a loss for a house, a street^ or a person ; and. 
 have been set in the right way by instructions, which t 
 if not quite so circumstantial as those of Yorick's hand- 
 some Gris$ct 7 at least conveyed to the mind an impre^ 
 
9 
 
 sion equally strong, that the person, thus accidental!/ 
 interrogated, seemed really interested in giving the most 
 satisfactory and useful information. 
 
 If not so engaging a figure as the march ande of the 
 Sentimental Tourist, yet equally obligeante, (and far 
 from unprepossessing in her mien) was the young 
 woman of whom I bought my Rouen Itinerary. At 
 our entrance into the little old-fashioned shop, she rose 
 from her seat to receive us, with an air of good- 
 natured attention, tempered with respectfulness of de- 
 portment, and replied to our questions about the publi- 
 cation, in a way that plainly shewed she had not beea 
 
 " 1 minding 
 
 " Only the margin's breadth and binding," 
 
 but had acquired a competency to speak of what wat 
 most interesting in the town and its vicinity. French 
 women generally are fond of books : perhaps they are 
 not so scrupulously select in their choice of them as our 
 own countrywomen, but they read a great deal, and, 
 remembering what they read, they enliven their con- 
 versation frequently with allusions of a literary turn* 
 In visiting the different Museums of Paris^ I have often 
 profited from the readiness with which they communicate 
 their knowledge, not merely as might respect the name 
 of an artist, or the subject of his work, but also in re- 
 gard to particulars connected with the history of either, 
 very far above the cast of common-place observations. 
 
 There are two churches at Dieppe. That dedicated 
 to St. Jaques has a lofty tower, of fine proportions : it 
 is an object of striking appearance when viewed dis* 
 tantly at sea ; and it is no less worthy of near inspection 
 for its sculptural work. The interior is an uniform 
 structure in the florid and pointed stile. The church 
 
 C 
 
of St. Remi, having been greatly injured by the bombs, 
 was repaired after the Grecian manner, with a dome 
 and portico, and, as may be supposed, forms an hetero- 
 geneous and tasteless melange. The RouenGuide pro- 
 nounces it, without hesitation, to be the later building 
 of the two ; but if the same criteria axe correct, which 
 regulate the decision as to the age of Gothic edifices in 
 England, then, the short massive pillars, (with relievos 
 in the capitals), of St. Remi, shew its antiquity to be 
 greater than that of Saint Jaques, of which the columns 
 are lofty, small, and clustered. 
 
 It was the hour of Vespers, when we visited these 
 churches. The difference of religion is another source 
 of powerful attraction to the attentive mind ; and,- as the 
 ceremonies and symbols of Catholicism present them- 
 selves to notice, a feeling, more lively perhaps than is 
 produced by any other instance of dissimilarity from 
 accustomed things, prompts us to exclaim, c ' This is a 
 foreign land" I thought I could perceive symptoms 
 of some increase in ecclesiastical influence, since the 
 period of 1802. Among others was the great crucifix 
 elevated at the entrance of the port : those objects of 
 Romish adoration, which were totally extirpated, both 
 " stick and stone," by the revolutionary destroyers, had 
 not then been restored. 
 
 We finished our perambulations with an ascent of 
 the steep and lofty eminence on which the Castle is 
 situated. The sun was just setting, and its rays, un- 
 clouded, threw a glowing mantle over the time-shat- 
 ters! but still formidable towers, and grass -grown ram- 
 patts of the fortress. AVe would willingly have im- 
 proved our prospect by taking it from the parapet, but 
 the is nLiiiel H the gate way denied admittance. A few 
 
in 
 
 months sooner — and our country and language might 
 have overcome the difficulty ; but the garrison had 
 ceased again to be English /* The spot, however, which 
 we were permitted to attain, afforded a view at once 
 bold and interesting. We indulged ourselves, for some 
 minutes., in watching the 66 gradual dusky veil" of 
 Evening steal over the vast expanse of waters, and suc- 
 cessively enshroud the scene of shipping, houses, and 
 more elevated objects that lay beneath us. Then we 
 
 " Cast a fond look where England's glories shine," 
 
 and bent our weary steps to the destined place of re- 
 freshment and repose. 
 
 * The cavalry of the British Army had military possession of Nar- 
 tnasdy, during the autumn and winter of 1815. 
 
 C2 
 
12 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Journey from Dieppe — The Country People — An English- 
 woman travelling on foot to Naples — Agriculture — Game 
 Laws — Approach to Rouen — Delightful Scenery—* Hist o* 
 rical Associations of Normandy with England. 
 
 May 18th. 
 
 jSTeXT morning, as tlie Rouen Diligence rattled 
 along with us through the streets of Dieppe, we found its 
 little world up before us. It was market day ; and the 
 sight of the grande place, already filled with the country 
 and town's people, inspired me with the wish for a few 
 leisure moments, to mix in the busy crowd of paysannes f 
 who had sat out hither from early dawn, and rode or 
 trudged it, many a mile, to take each her stand in this 
 market, with a basket of eggs, or of butter, of cheese, 
 of vegetables, or of live poultry. What a countless 
 flutter of high caps, and broad white lappets ; and what 
 a glittering profusion of gold ear-drops and necklaces 
 had we here in view ! Verily, the faces, which this 
 finery was intended to set off advantageously, were 
 mostly healthful, many handsome, all cheerful. One 
 cannot avoid being forcibly struck with this costume de 
 province. 'Tis obviously the sacred legacy of unaltera- 
 ble fashion, descending from mother to daughter, 
 through many — many generations. How amusing to 
 note these indications of insulated ideas : but, alas, how 
 dreadfully behind hand are these fair Normandes, com- 
 pared with females of the same class in England, where; 
 every village has its millinery from London* 
 
 P 
 
13 
 
 The dress of the men has not so much of peculiarity. 
 In mounting the long hill, over which the road passes, 
 immediately on quitting the town, we observed, as we 
 walked along, their similarity, both in dress and general 
 appearance to the English. The husbandmen and 
 waggoners have, for the most part, the same athletic 
 make and ruddy complexions as those of our own 
 country. The predominant garb is a dark blue smock 
 frock. As to the occupiers and cultivators of the land, 
 they are a humble jog-trot set of folks : they come bump- 
 ing along upon their little horses, with perfect steadi- 
 ness of pace ; and their long riding cloaks, and walking 
 sticks suspended from the wrist, give them, at some 
 short distance, the appearance of military. We saw no 
 hard riders, in buckskin breeches, and on blood nags ; 
 no smart gigs, nor sky-scraping tandems : no symp- 
 toms of the existence of that character, either in its re- 
 spectable or its extravagant sense, denominated amongst 
 ourselves, the Gentleman Farmer. Every now and 
 then, we met a young Lubin and Jeannette, mounted on 
 a demi pique saddle and pillion; or a more elderly 
 couple, trundled on the pave, in a little narrow cart, 
 with so low a tilt, as obliges them to sii doubled up 
 under its troublesome covering. 
 
 As we proceeded slowly in our ascent, animadverting 
 on the difference, in these respects, between England 
 and France, we overtook a very young looking woman, 
 indifferently dressed ; but at sight of whom, the discri- 
 minative sympathies of country so quickly arose in my 
 mind, that I exclaimed unhesitatingly to my friend, 
 u that, however, must be an Englishwoman." " Yes, 
 Sir, (said she, overhearing me) that I certainly am.'* 
 And what do you do, plodding along, in this part 
 
14 
 
 of tire world ? u I am wife to that man (she re- 
 plied, pointing to a person in a sailor's dress, some 
 paces a-head of us^ he was in the French service, and 
 has been a prisoner of war in England, where I mar- 
 vied him, and we are now journeying to Naples, of 
 which kingdom he is a native*" Indeed! and was 
 it to travel through France, to the extremity of Italy, 
 thri you have deprived yourself of a settlement and 
 i :;u;\tcnance in your own country ? I fear you will 
 have but a miserable task of it. " Why, yes, Sir, I 
 doubt I shall," said she, resting her arms across her 
 body, which now discovered an unfortunate increase of 
 shape. And then " ahope to get through, please God," 
 was added with an expression of inexperience and 
 simplicity on her countenance, ihat shewed she had not 
 thought sufficiently about the matter, to anticipate the 
 fearful destiny too likely to await her : 
 
 O blindness to the future, kindly given, 
 " That each may walk the circle mark'd by Heav'n. 
 
 As to ourselves, we were really shocked at the idea of 
 the perils and miseries this wretched girl (for she was 
 not more than nineteen) was on the point of encountering ; 
 and I could not help offering up an internal petition, that 
 to such a lamb, thus perhaps about to be " shorn to the 
 quick," in union with the forlorn hope of a stranger's 
 fate, God might, in his mercy, u temper the wind •" 
 We put a trifle of money into her hand, and bidding 
 her husband to be kind, wished them, (what was next 
 to impossible), a good journey. 
 
 And now, having reached the top of the hill, we 
 turned round to enjoy the prospect ; a fine morning 
 heightening the charms it possessed, and quickening the 
 interest it was oapablc of inspiring. The sea view was 
 
15 
 
 grand : the landscape varied and extensive ; the verdure of 
 the fields enlivened by the prodigious quantity of rape, 
 grown for the oil that is produced from it. As we yes- 
 terday approached the coast from the sea, it seemed to 
 crown the cliff with a border of green and gold, glaring 
 vividly in the sun. Looking on one side, towards the 
 Castle of Dieppe, and on the other, towards the river 
 below us, issuing through a fertile valley, our eyes were 
 presented w ith objects, not only replete with picturesque 
 effect, but illustrated by the distinctions of historic 
 celebrity. Under the walls of that citadel, Henry the 
 Fourth of France was reduced to such extremity, that 
 he said of himself, he was asking without a kingdom, a 
 husband without a wife, and a warrior without money." 
 And it was in the valley of Arques, a short time after, 
 that the same prince fought the famous battle with the 
 Duke of Mayenne: with 3000 men, so bravely and 
 skilfully disputing the ground against 30,000, as to give 
 time for the English reinforcements to come up, which 
 our Queen Elizabeth had dispatched to the assistance 
 of her heroically and favourite.* 
 
 The first part of our route lay through a fine corn 
 country, the contour of which bore much resemblance 
 to the open districts of Northamptonshire and Bedford* 
 shire ; and even to certain portions of Norfolk, where 
 enclosures have not been made. The horizon is gene- 
 rally bounded by woods, with which the passage is 
 well diversified. Not a single hedge is to be seen ; and 
 scarcely a division between the different proprietor- 
 ships. — A double row of apple-trees line the main road ; 
 and, being in full blossom, they had a pretty appear- 
 ance. — The crops of all kinds (chiefly Rye, Wheat, 
 
 * See Sully'* Memoirs, vol. % bk, 3, p. 208. 
 
16 
 
 and Oats), were fine ; but not in a forwarder state than 
 those in England are about the same time. — Fertile and 
 well cultivated as these plains appear, we did not, for 
 the first twenty miles, pass through a single place worthy 
 the appellation of a town : mere thinly scattered villages 
 in the lowest state of poverty and beggary. Their hus- 
 bandry seems. to be improved of late years ; at least it is 
 less slovenly. 1 remember, when I travelled this road be- 
 fore, (during the time of harvest) observing the finest 
 crops so foul with weeds, as to puzzle one to determine 
 exactly what they were. It was at that period a matter 
 of astonishment to us, how they managed to till their 
 lands and house their produce — riding for miles as one 
 does along the high road, without being able to descry 
 either barns or farm-yards. 
 
 Partridges we saw in abundance. Pheasants, as our 
 conductor informed us, are very scarce in France. The 
 restrictions with respect to Game are very slight — they 
 are private property. I hope to see the day when they 
 will become so in England.* Men will not then, as now, 
 be tempted to risk their own lives, and endanger those 
 of others, for the paltry consideration of a bird or a hare ; 
 but we shall see both brought to our markets, as is here 
 the case : and, although they are too often exposed for 
 sale before they are of a fit size for the table, yet this 
 abuse is of no great consequence ; the interest, which the 
 cultivators of the land have in the general preservation of 
 game, being so favourable to its increase. It is not, 
 however, to be hence inferred, that there are no laws 
 for the regulation of sporting. No person in France 
 
 # Since this was written, a Bill has been brought into Parliament, for 
 legalizing, under certain restrictions, the Sale of Game, which is &t 
 present carried on, to an enormous extent, in violation of existing laws. 
 
17 
 
 tnay shoot m ithout a licence, which can be had for about 
 10s. and then he is liable, in case of trespass, to be 
 lined, and even imprisoned, if the offence be repeated 
 after warning given. The government forests are kept 
 with more strictness j and none but the Gardes de Chasse y 
 or other authorised persons, are permitted to go through 
 them with fire afms. 
 
 The last stage to Rotfen offers, in every direction, the 
 most delightful scenery. The road follows the line of a 
 ridge of woody hills, overlooking a well-watered 
 valley, in which an almost countless succession of 
 cotton spinning mills, bleaching grounds, and manufac- 
 tories for calico printing, form an approach, both ap- 
 propriate and pleasing, to one of the greatest commer- 
 cial towns in France. From the Barriere de VOctroi^ 
 (where duties are taken and passports examined) we pass 
 through a remarkably grand avenue — a treble row of 
 noble elms, of which one readily excuses the formal fan 
 cut, for the sake of the embowering luxuriance of 
 their top-most branches, that curve into a sort of Gothic 
 vaulting over head, and by excluding the fervid radi* 
 ance of noon, gave a greater effect to the entrance 
 of the port which formed the distant visto* Through 
 the intervals of these noble trees, we discover a beauti- 
 tiful country, of which the Seine, on one side, forms a 
 brilliant feature, as it winds its course along a vast and 
 smiling plain ; and, on the other side, the superbly- 
 rising grounds, studded with country houses of the mer- 
 chants, lead the eye to the outskirts of the city, which 
 is situated on the gentle declivity of the same range 
 of hills. 
 
 If the spacious quays were adapted to remind us of 
 the mercantile importance of the place, our entrance tft 
 
 D • - 
 
18 
 
 the Porte Grand Pout, (up the street of which we pro- 
 ceeded to the Hotel de France) , gave rise to ideas ftot 
 less impressive, as connected with its high antiquity, 
 and with its former ample share in political transactions. 
 To the contemplation of an Englishman, indeed, Rouen 
 cannot fail to be an object of peculiar interest. Once 
 the seat and centre of that power, which, by an enter- 
 prise as bold as it was successful, gave a new dynasty, a 
 new law, and a new language to our own country, this 
 venerable city ingratiates itself, in the intimacy of his- 
 torical association, with our national feelings. Here, 
 the rude Norman Chieftain established the capital of 
 his Dukedom, won by fire and sword from the imbecile 
 successors of Charlemagne, and founded on the ruins of 
 fair Neustria. Here, at the head of the more civilized de- 
 scendants of that barbarous race, our first William, in am- 
 bitious conspiracy, combined the means of earth and of 
 heaven ; the falchion of the Knight , made irresistible by 
 the benediction of the Pope, to invade a country, which, 
 u divided against itself," and oppressed by misrule, 
 fell, after the first appeal to arms, the Conqueror's easy 
 prey ; — a country which, free and united, has since bidden 
 defiance to a world of foes, and has, in our days, hurled 
 defeat and humiliation on the Tyrant who had sworn her 
 destruction. Here, and at London, were our Kings 
 accustomed to hold their alternate Court ; and the inter- 
 course thus established between the two countries, 
 favouring the civil and ecclesiastical policy of the 
 Norman line, England proved a most delicious garden 
 for foreign churchmen and statesmen to gather fruit in, 
 agreeably to their respective tastes. The monuments., 
 in more than one of her principal religious edifices, 
 attest the long continued identity of governmental iin- 
 
19 
 
 terest between Normandy and England — between the 
 state that first subdued us, and afterwards with other 
 portions of France, sank into the relation of an appanage 
 to the House Royal of our Realm. 
 
 The walls of Rouen also enclose a spot of ground, 
 where, nearly four centuries ago, was perpetrated a deed 
 of shame and cruelty, which is not even now to be for- 
 gotten. Worthy for her patriotism and courage to have 
 lived in a more enlightened era ; deserving for her 
 transcendant services to have received the crown of 
 queenly dignity from her prince, rather than that of 
 martyrdom from her enemies — Orleans'* Maid has 
 generally been spoken of as a title synonimous with 
 England's Reproach ! But in whatever degree the 
 annals of our own country may be stained by the record 
 of that tragic event, yet it surely is not for the French 
 themselves to revile the conduct of our ancestors with 
 the obtrusive and insinuating severity in which they are 
 so prone to indulge. If obloquy and disgrace must at- 
 tach to nations for the faults of their Rulers, then should 
 the blame, as far as relates to the case in question, be, in 
 candour, imputed equally to France and to England. — 
 For surely it will be allowed, that the neglect of the 
 voluptuous and indolent Charles, in leaving Joan of Arc 
 to her fate, was little less criminal than were the subor- 
 nations of the Duke of Bedford. — Instead of serving, 
 however, as a subject for injurious reflection on the cha- 
 racter of a nation, whose generous and liberal course of 
 policy has long since effaced this " blot in her escut- 
 cheon," let the memorial of the Pucelle's exploits and 
 of her death, events of an ignorant and turbulent age, be 
 considered as " written for our learning" in these later — 
 and would it could be said these wiser times. — The whole 
 
 D3 
 
20 
 
 history of the transaction teaches us, what a tissue of 
 miserable consequences inevitably result from the unhal- 
 lowed passion for conquest and dominion — from those 
 projects of mad ambition, in which so much of 
 
 " Bad begins, and worse remains behind. " 
 
 The frequent visits made by Francis the First to 
 Rouen, and its siege by Henry the Fourth, in which 
 the little band of English nobility and soldiery, under 
 the Earl of Essex, distinguished themselves as u brave 
 amongst the brave." These and other events, that have 
 rendered the place remarkable, naturally combine to 
 inspire in our minds a feeling of more than ordinary 
 consideration, not only for such of its public edifices as 
 have, in a state of greater or less dilapidation, been 
 spared from the annihilating hand of Time, or from the 
 equally destructive scythe of " bestial Anarchy ;" but 
 also for its buildings in general, in which one almost 
 every where traces the early conformation. This retention 
 of what was long ago constructed, displays itself in 
 streets, of which the extreme narrowness communicates 
 an air of still deeper gloom, owing to the successive projec- 
 tion of the different stories one beyond another ; of which 
 similar instances are here and there only to be found ia 
 the oldest parts of London, and perhaps more abundantly 
 At Chester, than any where else in England. 
 
21 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Rouen — Cathedral Church — Benedictine Abbey of Saint 
 Ouen — Palace of the Ancient Parliament — Place de la 
 Pucelle — Interesting antiquity of the City — Suburb of St* 
 Sever — Corneille — The New Boulevards — Botanic Gar* 
 den — Remarks on the political and commercial state of 
 Rouen — Prospect from Mount St. Catherine — Extent and 
 traffic of the Place — Revolutionary destruction of Reli* 
 gious Establishments — Female Dress. 
 
 sooner had we arranged affairs at the Hotel de 
 France, than in this spacious cabinet of choice scraps 
 for the Antiquary, behold us sallying forth. Our walls 
 commenced with a visit to the Cathedral ; and we may 
 emphatically affirm ourselves to have feasted on the 
 peculiar beauties of the principal front. In viewing 
 that particular portion of the exterior, one is, indeed,, 
 lost in mingled astonishment and admiration at the prac* 
 tical skill in masonry, which could have realized the 
 bold plan of the architect, whose powers of invention 
 have given such apparent insubstantiality to vast and 
 solid masses, as exemplified in the airy structure of its 
 pyramids, and in the prodigality of ornament which en*, 
 riches its sculptured portals. With all its fascinating 
 union of magnificence, elegance, and lightness, the /a- 
 f ade of this celebrated church does not, however, pro*-, 
 duce on my mind that sensation of harmonious effect^ 
 which the western front of our York Minster never fails 
 of impressing — that effect which results from the perfect 
 unity of design ; from the arrangement of the miautex 
 
22 
 
 parts in a happy conformity to the prevailing constituents 
 of the mighty whole. In thus venturing to adduce 
 what I humbly conceive to be an instance of superiority 
 in the noblest of our own Gothic structures over the 
 Cathedral of Rouen, another remark suggests itself, in 
 reference to the comparative scale of churches in Nor- 
 mandy and England : and it is a fact not a little curious, 
 that the Prelates whom the Conqueror brought over 
 with him, should have erected edifices that exceeded in 
 magnitude even the most considerable they had left 
 behind. 
 
 The interior of the building, perfectly uniform in 
 its stile, is a beautiful model of the acutely pointed 
 architecture. The elongated perspective of the nave 
 rivets the eye by the justness of its proportion, and the 
 solemnity of its character. Unincumbered with screen 
 or organ loft, which usually intercepts the view in 
 our own Cathedrals, the double range of clustered 
 pillars forming the middle aisle, terminate in a circular 
 abscis* near which the choir and high altar are seen to 
 great advantage. The numerous chapels in the side 
 aisles must have been lavishly decorated, before the 
 sans-culottes covered their own nakedness with the 
 plunder of them. Behind the choir is the Lady 
 Chapel, of elegant construction, and containing several 
 costly morceaux of the fine arts. The altar-piece, by 
 Philippe de Champagne, has for its subject the Adora* 
 Hon of the Shepherds^ to which that most able master 
 has given wonderful force, by making the light of the 
 picture emanate from the glory of the infant Jesus. 
 Here also are two monuments of superb design and 
 exquisite workmanship : one, the tomb of the Cardinals 
 D'Amboise, uncle and nephew. Archbishops of Rouen, 
 
23 
 
 (the former of whom, Minister of Louis XII. built tlifc 
 right tower, so remarkable for its height and the beauty 
 of the coronated gallery, with which it is surmounted). 
 The other is the tomb of the Grand Senechal de Brexe* 
 Designating, in particular, the improved state of the 
 arts in the beginning of the sixteenth century, they are 
 such, in fact, as would do honour to any age or nation, 
 whether regarded for the costliness of the materials, 
 the good taste of the designs, or the excellence of the 
 statues, and other charming labours of the chissel, with 
 which they are adorned. The stalls of the choir are 
 carved in a very superior manner. Of the tombs of the 
 early Archbishops, only one remains, whose name 1 
 could not learn. And of our 66 English Dead," all are 
 swept away except that of the great Duke of Bedford. 
 
 From the Cathedral we proceeded next to Saint Ouen f 
 the Abbey Church of the ci-devant Benedictines — a later 
 but unfinished specimen of the pointed architecture. 
 Had the exterior been completed, it would have been 
 excelled by few. Both this building and the Cathedral 
 have been restored considerably to order, decency, and 
 cleanliness since I last visited them ; but the marks of 
 wanton mischief and barbarous rage, inflicted on them 
 by the modern Vandals, are, like the ravages of religious 
 zealots in our own country, too great and widely spread 
 to be entirely repaired. Notre Dame of Rouen was 
 formerly famous for its painted glass : it is nearly all 
 gone; the best that remains is in some of the side, 
 chapels ; and the fine rose windows over the west portal, 
 and in the transepts, have still some in them of the most 
 brilliant colours. Like St. Own, it was appropriated 
 to the purpose of quartering the republican soldiery f 
 during the most violent period of the revolutionary 
 
24 
 
 ■ 
 
 troubles, who amused themselves with shooting at and 
 piercing the most superb windows. St. Ouen, though 
 subjected in the same manner to democratic profana- 
 tion, was more fortunate in retaining a large portion of 
 its stained glass, which, however, is more to be prized 
 for its antiquity, and for the appropriate effect of its 
 sombre tones of blue and ruby, " shedding a dim reli- 
 gious light," than for their pictorial execution, consist- 
 ing, as they do, of scraps of scriptural and legendary 
 history, jumbled together without regard to subject or 
 connection, 
 
 ' The Monastery of St. Ouen is a modern building, 
 and must have lodged the Friars in a princely style. 
 Since the expulsion of the religious orders from France, 
 it has been used as the Hotel de Ville, for which pur- 
 pose its numerous series of large apartments, renders it ex- 
 tremely suitable. The adjoining garden of the old Con- 
 vent forms a very convenient and agreeable promenade, 
 and the inhabitants seemed disposed to profit of the en- 
 joyment which its air and arrangement afford. The 
 Hiarble basin, with gold and silver fish — a jet tfeau in 
 fch& middle— statues interspersed among the walks— an 
 -etysee, for shade from the sun and for shelter from the 
 fain— serve doubtless to represent to the gens de 
 province the imitated glories of the Thuilleries and the 
 Luxembourgh. 
 
 From St. Ouen's Abbey we next extended our course 
 lb view an equally fine remain of the civil architecture 
 of Normandy, in the fifteenth century, viz. the Palais 
 de Justice, the seat of the ancient Parliament of Rouen, 
 How used as a Court of Assize. The quadrangle of the 
 Palace, and the Salle des Procureurs, (corresponding 
 in appropriation (hough not in magnitude with our 
 
25 
 
 Westminster Hall) are deserving of a minute observa- 
 tion. — The front of the Palace is a work that exhibits 
 the character of that age of the French Monarchy, which 
 {contemporaneous with the reigns of our Seventh v&nd 
 Eighth Henries) proved so auspicious an epoch to the re- 
 vival of the polite arts. — The heavy castellated stile at 
 once abandoned, we see, in this structure, only the 
 luxuriance of the Gothic, chastened by the rising 
 efforts of that improved taste, which, formed on the 
 models of Greece and Rome, began at that time to dis- 
 play its influence over the Architecture of the different 
 nations of Europe. 
 
 In directing our steps from hence to the water side, 
 we did not omit to take a view of the Place de la Pu« 
 ctlle, so called from its having been the shameful scene 
 of Joan of Arc's execution. It was formerly the Calf 
 Market. The identical spot, where the heroic maid 
 was burnt alive by her ungenerous and bigoted 
 enemies, is marked by a monumental effigy of mo- 
 dern date ; and which, with an unaccountable indif- 
 ference to the value of historic records, has been suffered 
 to supplant the original memorial erected by order of 
 Charles the Seventh, soon after the event. 
 
 Near this place are the vegetable and fish markets, 
 which appear extremely well supplied ; but, like all 
 the public places in this city, their areas are very cir- 
 cumscribed, and their avenues insignificant. But al- 
 though these local inconveniences may put the mero 
 " idle traveller" out of humour ; yet, to " the gleaner," 
 whose rational fondness for antiquarian research gives 
 him an interest in whatever furnishes forth memorials of 
 mankind, in domestic as well as in public life— to such 
 a person these architectural objects offer a valuable clue, 
 
 E 
 
26 
 
 in tracing the customs and manners of days long 
 past — and to him, therefore, the streets of Rouen will 
 present nothing so disagreeable as not to be pati- 
 ently endured, for the sake of so many genuine objects 
 of his favourite pursuit. — In the central quarter of the 
 town, there is, indeed, scarcely a house that, either 
 for the peculiarity of its construction, or for its connec- 
 tion with some incident of civic or political history, is not 
 calculated to arrest and rccompence the attention of the 
 curious and intelligent enquirer. The exteriors of many 
 are decorated with armorial and other designs elabo- 
 rately carved in relief, both on wood and on stone — some 
 of them coeval with and allusive to the visits of -Royal 
 and other illustrious personages to the place. 
 
 The real cause of such a predominance here of the an- 
 cient stile is, perhaps, to be found, not so much in any 
 popular feeling of attachment to what is venerable or 
 dignified, as in that carelessness (already remarked) 
 which Frenchmen in general evince, with respect to the 
 amelioration of property, and the economy of do- 
 mestic life. Though so quick in their perceptions, as 
 to the different sources of worldly enjoyment, they seem 
 neither to participate in, nor to comprehend that bold 
 and restless spirit of improvement, with which an Eng- 
 lishman is actuated, when 
 
 " Diruit, seJificat, mutat quadra ta rotundis," 
 
 intent on utility and comfort, whether in plans of a pri- 
 vate or a public nature ; whether in the alteration of a 
 fire-place, or the excavation of a commercial dock ; the 
 erection of a cottage ornee, or the building of a street ! 
 
 In alluding to the inconveniences of old Rouen, it is 
 right for me, at the same time, to remark the number of 
 excellent fountains which one meets with ; and also the 
 
27 
 
 streams of clear water that flow th rough some of the 
 closest parts of the town. By means of these supplies, 
 the dyers, who, before the great increase of the cotton 
 establishments in the neighbourhood, were an exceed* 
 ingly numerous body, have the advantage of carrying 
 on their business at a distance from the Seine, 
 
 We passed the Custom-house and the Exchange, both, 
 handsome and spacious stone buildings— the latter has, 
 a Court before it, where, at noon, the merchants in 
 fine weather prefer to assemble — and which serves also 
 for a fashionable evening promenade. Then continuing 
 our walk along the quays, where vessels of a hundred 
 tons burthen come up ; the stately Bridge of Boats 
 over the Seine, was our next object. It supplies the 
 place of a stone one, the arches of which were carried 
 away by the river overflowing its banks ; an event of no 
 infrequent occurrence in the wintry season. The pas- 
 sage of vessels through the bridge, by sliding out one 
 of -the boats from its place^ is effected with extraordinary 
 expedition and facility. The traffic over this bridge is 
 very great, it being the communication between Rouen 
 and the extensive suburb of Saint Sever, which we found 
 to rival its parent town in mercantile and manufacturing 
 bustle, and far to excel it in commodious buildings, 
 elegant gardens; and the attractive walk and ride of the 
 Grand Cours. 
 
 On our return through Porte Grand Pont, we did 
 not fail to notice the exterior of the Theatre, on the en* 
 tablature of which is placed a medallion of Corneille^ 
 whom this city reckons among her many eminent natives. 
 The Rothomagians honour the memory of the great 
 Father pf French Tragedy, with an annual fete drama* 
 {ique > dedicated solely to the performance of his print 
 
2S 
 
 eipal pieces. The garlands used on the last of these 
 anniversaries had negligently been left entwined around 
 his bust ; but the flowers faded, the laurels withered, 
 the ribbands soiled, and the face of the justly-renowned 
 Poet smutted with lamp black — ^formed such an en* 
 semble of shabby thread-bare parade, as conveyed, to 
 my mind, the keenest edge of a satire on the propensity 
 of the French to be always en representation. 
 
 After dinner, being joined by Monsieur G. D 9 
 
 a merchant, and well-behaved man, to whom our friend 
 H. had kindly introduced us by letter, we continued our 
 perambulation, which was now directed to the western 
 Boulevards, where, since the period of my former 
 Tisit, a great number of very handsome houses has 
 been erected, and where there is a general appear- 
 ance of improvement. This substitution of edifices, 
 •uited for the residence of opulent persons, in place of 
 part of the old city ramparts and defences, is a public 
 work, and does not, therefore, invalidate the remark 
 which has just been made respecting the slow pro- 
 gress of renovation in the habitations of individuals. — 
 It was intended to have opened a spacious street from 
 this airy quarter of the town, in a direct line Ur the west 
 front of the Cathedral ; — the realization of such a plan 
 would have been incomparably fine ; but the late Go- 
 vernment had other uses, more congenial to its military 
 policy both for its own funds, and for those of the muni- 
 cipality. Our nest visit was to the Jar din des Planter, 
 which (if, with the recollection of that at Paris, I can- 
 not speak of it in the most glowing terms) is an in- 
 stitution reflecting credit on the scientific and literary 
 acquirements of the inhabitants of Rouen. Other public 
 establishments there are, equally praise- worthy, whicb 
 we had opportunity of knowing only by report. 
 
29 
 
 There yet remained to us an Lour or two more of a 
 fine evening ; and the domineering eminence of Mount 
 St. Catherine was still to be ascended. Having for- 
 merly experienced a high gratification in viewing the 
 prospect commanded from that elevation, I was de- 
 sirous of renewing it with my friend (albeit not less 
 fatigued than himself, with the long and incessant 
 occupation of our day's ramble). Accordingly, we ac- 
 cepted the offer of our Rouen merchant to conduct us 
 the nearest way ; and as we went along, naturally fall- 
 ing into discourse on subjects connected with the pre- 
 sent state of Rouen and of France, I asked him if the 
 assertions which I had heard made, were well founded, 
 viz, that there existed on the part of the inhabitants in 
 general of this great city, a strong feeling of attachment 
 towards the Government of Buonaparte, and whence 
 that feeling principally arose? His answer was, that 
 the allegation was true to a certain extent ; and in pro- 
 ceeding to account for the fact, he observed, that as the 
 politics of the generality are usually swayed by considera- 
 tion of interest, so there were in Rouen, a large part of the 
 population, who, being employed in the manufactory of 
 cotton goods, (a most advantageous branch of business 
 introduced since the Revolution,) were benefited by 
 Napoleon's system of burning and excluding British 
 merchandize, and who looked with regret and discontent 
 at the abolition of a power, which, during the last ten 
 years of its existence, had given them a sort of monopoly 
 in the markets, not only of France, but of the Nether- 
 lands, of Holland, and even of Germany. Buonaparte's 
 continental system, however, was a sjstem co-existent 
 only with a state of universal war ; and war was ruin- 
 ous to the maritime trade of France# Now, Rouen 
 
30 
 
 being a port as well as a manufacturing place, requited 
 for its general and permanent prosperity, a free inter- 
 course, by sea as well as land, with foreign countries ; 
 or, at least, an uninterrupted transit for the products of 
 its capital and industry. However favourable, there* 
 fore, the policy of Buonaparte, in excluding us y (the 
 English) from the Continent, might have been to the 
 particular interests of the manufacturers of Rouen ; yet 
 Peace, which had returned with the Bourbons, was not 
 less advantageous to the general commerce of the place, 
 and might have proved more so, but on account of events, 
 for the concomitant and deplorable evils of which they 
 (the French) had to thank themselves— namely, the oc- 
 currences of the second invasion, so replete with disaster 
 and humiliation, consequent on the return of Buonaparte 
 from Elba. Such was the general tenour of this intelli- 
 gent Frenchman's remarks; and his further observa- 
 tions, on the state of the cotton establishments at Rouen, 
 were of a nature to convince me, {'patriotically speaking 
 almost too strongly) that they are already capable of 
 opposing a most formidable rivalite to our own. 
 
 At length, after some exertion, we reached the wished- 
 for point of view — the summit of Mount Saint Catherine , 
 whence a noble panorama opened to our enraptured 
 sight. We stood on the ruins of the old fort, w hich 
 Henry the Fourth destroyed after the submission of 
 Rouen to his authority, and under the ramparts of which 
 many a valiant countryman of ours, in the days of the 
 League, had " sought the bubble reputation even at the 
 cannon's mouth," by the side of that great warrior* 
 On one side, the city of Rouen lay before us, in minified 
 dimensions: the spire of its Cathedral, 400 French 
 feet high, ceasing then to demand the accustomed elc* 
 
31 
 
 vation of the eye in beholding it, seemed to sink 
 in humble sense of inferiority before this lofty " rock 
 of ages," to which our Shakespeare's poetic de- 
 scription of Dover Cliff, might be applied without exag- 
 geration. The town, the port, and shipping, the bridge 
 of boats, and the faubourg of St. Sever, thus seen Avith 
 a bird's eye, looked half map and half picture, present- 
 ing a distinct idea of their relative situation and con- 
 nection, in one enchanting coup dceil. On the other 
 side, the eye embraced a surprising sweep of country, 
 the mountainous parts of which extend around the 
 city, and display to the very tops the cultivator's toil 
 rewarded by fertility. The Seine, object of varied 
 beauty, and source of countless blessings to the regions 
 through which it flows, here studded with green isles, 
 rolled in voluptuous meanders through the extensive land- 
 scape ; and its waters reflecting back the glowing tints of 
 the afternoon sun, marked out their rapid course, in the 
 direction of Havre, till their entrance between the dis- 
 tant hills intercepted them from our further view. It 
 was with reluctance, that we quitted a scene, in which 
 Nature so powerfully captivated by her charms, and 
 awed by her sublimity— a scene, in which the useful 
 works of modern industry were so intimately blended 
 with the imposing remains and majestic monuments of 
 ancient power and ancient faith. 
 
 Although Rouen appears to occupy an area not much 
 larger than that of the ground on which Norwich 
 stands, yet the population (taxed at 85,000) amounts, as 
 Mr.D. assured us, to not less than 100,000 souls. This 
 condensation of many people into a small compass, con- 
 tributes to give an encreased appearance of bustle to the 
 -streets, the principal of which reminded us, in that 
 
32 
 
 respect, of the traffic of London. It was dusk when we 
 again entered the town ; but we found the most fre- 
 quented thoroughfares well lighted, and in the Rue dcs 
 Carmesj the succession of little shops, illuminated a la 
 mode de Palais Royal^ formed an acceptable lounge 
 after the wanderings of the day. 
 
 Convents and Churches used to be as numerous 
 here as Cages and Restaurateurs are now in Paris : one 
 scarcely can go through the narrowest lane without 
 passing the wails of a religious house, or some ecclesias- 
 tical ruin. Very many of t hem have been converted to se- 
 cular purposes ; some not the most dignified. The Dili" 
 gences drive into the portals of more than one : and the 
 two churches of St. Jean and St. Nicholas were maga- 
 zines for wool, when, on my former visit, we inspected 
 their fine stained glass windows, which, every day, 
 were breaking into shivers, from the pressure of the 
 bales, which these mercantile Goths were perpetually 
 piling up against them, without compunction.* Be- 
 fore the Revolution, thirty two of these conventual and 
 collegiate establishments, and the same number of 
 churches, existed in Rouen. 
 
 * The act of securing a portion of these admirable paintings from fur- 
 ther injury, by their removal to a country where their merits were 
 appreciated, and their subjects reverenced, was surely one that deserves a 
 less obnoxious appellation than that of pillage, with which it has beep 
 branded in the work of a certain English Antiquary. For myself, I am 
 not ashamed of avowing a participation in the employment of taking many 
 of these tasteful donations of Catholic bounty from their mouldering 
 frames, and packing them up (in 1802) for a voyage to England, where the 
 chief part now serve to enrich the windows of our Protestant Churches. The 
 Jacobin venders of these brittle reliques, did not part with them for 
 nothing. How fruitful a source of expense, and of anxious and laborious 
 occupation, they proved in the purchase and subsequent disposal, I have, 
 #ji very near and dear considerations, cause but too decidedly to affirm \ 
 
33 
 
 In tTie present state of European Society, there would 
 be little, perhaps, seriously to regret in the suppression 
 of the Monastic Orders, were it limited to the work of 
 an equitable and temperate policy, emanating from pure 
 and enlightened views of religion, and effected on a 
 gradual system of operation. But, unhappily, the «o 
 tuating principle, hitherto displayed in the subversion 
 of these institutions, has proved to be of a kind equally 
 inimical to knowledge, to virtue, to Christianity. This 
 principle, manifested as it was both in the predicament 
 of England under the lustful and rapacious tyrant! 
 Henry, and in that of France under the many-headed 
 despot of Revolution, by the atrocious cruelties and bar- 
 barian ravages, with which the execution of the expul- 
 sive decrees were accompanied, can never be too indig- 
 nantly execrated, nor too deeply deplored ! For, inde- 
 pendent of the evils immediately resulting, in both 
 cases, from such flagrant violations of justice and hu- 
 manity, the irreparable loss which Literature was made 
 to sustain, in the total destruction, or indiscriminate and 
 wasteful plunder of the abbey libraries, has imparted 
 to these events, a character of sacrilegious mischief, ex- 
 tending its afflicting visitation to mankind in after ages. 
 
 The devastation, here, among books and works of art 
 must have been immense. In 1802, some precious cu- 
 riosities were to have been picked up in this old place ; 
 and still there doubtless remain on the shelves of the 
 Rouen booksellers, numerous volumes worthy the ardent 
 researches of a Bibliomaniac— vl species of non compos 
 very rarely to be found in France. Though uninitiated 
 myself in the black letter mysteries, I accidentally 
 stumbled, this time, upon a lot of convent books, from 
 which I selected an illuminated missal, containing some 
 
 F 
 
34 
 
 brilliant specimens of gold painting, and a production 
 or two of the graphic art, not wholly unworthy even 
 the pencil of a Durer. 
 
 The dress of the ladies of Rouen is quite a la Pa~ 
 nsienne. The marchandes, and women of the lower class, 
 retain their provincial peculiarity of costume. A par- 
 ticular kind of cotton print, exhibiting a Jlaring combi- 
 nation of blue, red, and black, is manufactured here for 
 the use of the latter ; and this, like the petticoat of Betty 
 Blackberry in the English farce, is laid over so many thats, 
 as to give a most ludicrous protuberance to their hips. 
 These ponderous habiliments, however, may be deemed 
 to serve as a necessary counterbalance to the enormous 
 size and grotesque form of the head-dress ; and though, 
 at first sight, the whole seems to be a most unaccounta- 
 ble transmogrification of the u human form divine," yet 
 one soon becomes reconciled to, and even pleased witb 
 these evidences of local originality. 
 
35 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Departure from Rouen — Hyperbolical appellatives for /ra- 
 veiling Conveyances — Temerity of Foot Passengers — • 
 Beggars — Pomposity of French Designations — The Veh- 
 ci/ere— Comparative remarks on English Stage Coaches 
 and French Diligences, Guards and Conducteurs, Drivers 
 and Postilions — Village Dilapidations —Forlorn Chateaux 
 — Approach to Paris. 
 
 May 19th. 
 
 1 HE French have been note J by Sterne for the 
 sublimit 1/ of their comparisons : a buckle of his Parisian 
 barber's wig would continue to stand even " though it 
 were emerged in the ocean !" Could " Yorick" now 
 once more pursue his entertaining remarks on this most 
 characteristic nation, he would find them soaring as 
 much as ever above the phlegmatic region of mere 
 " pail of water" conceptions : at the same time it must 
 be allowed, that we ourselves have been ascending in 
 the scale of ideas, or, to speak more correctly, the Eng- 
 lish nomenclature has been swelling with the phrases of 
 pomposity. And, with respect to the names of travel* 
 ling conveyances, our Telegraphs and Highflyers, like 
 the French appellatives of L? Eclair and Velocifere, 
 " profess more than they perform if, indeed, there 
 be any meaning at all in the word Velocifere, which 
 seems to set derivation, or at least perspicuity at de- 
 fiance. In a vehicle so named, however, did we take 
 our places this morning for Paris; and, inasmuch as 
 swiftness of motion is implied by the term, " it had riot 
 its name for nothing 
 
 F2 
 
36 
 
 At five o'clock, as we galloped along the quays, Me' 
 found them already thronged with people, and the loud 
 cracks of our postillion's whip were sometimes too much 
 like " a word and a blow, when the blow comes first f 
 for they sounded a fearful signal of almost inevitable and 
 fatal mishap to the foot passengers, who, on their side, 
 appeared lo wait the near approach of danger with a 
 sang froid, exceeded only by the adroitness with which 
 they critically avoided it. But in thus tempting de- 
 struction, it is to be feared, they must often meet the 
 fate they so wantonly brave. This temerity or careless- 
 ness of foot passengers, in continuing to be in the way of 
 our wheels, prevails through the whole route : in France, 
 Flanders, and Holland, they arc all alike obstinate and 
 fool-hardy. At first it used to put me in a cold-sweat, 
 afterwards if i a passion; but custom, u that breeder of 
 habits," soon made me mind as little w hom we w ere going 
 to drive over, as though they were so many hens and 
 chickens — ducks and geese, scurrying before us. 
 
 From the Barriere, at the foot of Mount St. Cathe- 
 rine, the road leads up a long and steep ascent. Here a 
 deplorable army of beggars were ready at their post, 
 imploring charity in their usual strain of appeal to our 
 love for that Being whose power is only equalled by his 
 beneficence; or for that guileless Intercessor, who par. 
 took the sufferings, in obtaining the redemption of mor- 
 tality !* The importunity of these u sons and daughters 
 of want" was not the less successful for the shock which 
 their appearance gave to our feelings. More miserable 
 
 * The ordinary terms of solicitation, used by French mendicants, 
 are — u Ayez de la charite, s'il vous plait, pour l'atnour de D>eu"— 
 •* Dounez quelque chose a un pauvre malheureux, moil tres charitable 
 Monsieur, pour Parnour de Jesus Christ, " &c. 
 
37 
 
 objects I scarcely ever beheld : the greater portion were 
 ci ipples, disgustingly eloquent in the motionless expo- 
 sition of every species of deformity and mutilation : and 
 those who followed our carriage, with squallid forms, 
 only half covered with rags, and with visages nipped 
 into livid paleness by the keen tooth of the morning air, 
 looked more like ghosts than " habitants o' the earth." 
 Certainly it well becomes the kind-hearted traveller to 
 distribute a few sous among the indigent crowd that, 
 from time to time, beset him in his path ; yet there is 
 nothing that more fully justifies his severe reprehension, 
 than that defect or abuse of municipal arrangements and 
 provisions, w hich adds such distressful numbers, and gives 
 such frightful license, to 66 the vagrant train. " Would 
 that this observation were exclusively applicable to the 
 towns and villages on the Continent ; but, although the 
 nuisance there exists in a more systematic, unrestrained, 
 and troublesome degree, yet our own country endures 
 its full share of the evils of professional mendicity. 
 
 Arrived at the top of the eminence, we waited for the 
 carriage, which from the length and perpendicularity 
 of the ascent, proved a dead pull to the horses. In 
 casting our eyes about us, an object caught the attention 
 of my friend, which mightily tickled his fancy, whilst 
 it tempted him to tickle his palate too. A person was 
 sitting in front of the door of a mud hovel, with a little 
 table lull of apples, oranges, and pears before her. The 
 woman's habitation was as much like the description of 
 an Irish cabin as any thing poverty struck and paltry 
 could be ; nevertheless, a board, in black chalk charac- 
 ters, stuck on a pole by the entrance, announced it to 
 be a u Caff3!" We had a hearty laugh at this whim- 
 sical contrast between the mountaineer rudeness of the 
 
38 
 
 petty structure and the refined and accommodating im- 
 port of its consequential designation. Be it, however, 
 recorded to the honour of Madame la Cajfetiere, that 
 her manners were civil, and her pears super-excellent ! 
 
 Our Vtlocifere, though not so large and heavy as the 
 common diligence, was nevertheless, (as compared with 
 what we are accustomed to on the other side of the 
 water) a very clumsy concern. Nothing can be more 
 dissimilar than the two countries are in this particular. 
 If a French postilion would find himself desoriente,* in 
 the management of four in hand, from the box of an 
 English stage, " Master Coachce" would be scarcely 
 more " up to the mark" in filling the place of his Gal- 
 ilean brother of the " Whip." The technical skill of 
 each is suited to their respective services : the former, 
 perhaps, possesses more fertility of expedient in cases 
 of accident ; the latter is more methodically attentive to 
 the means of preventing them. The jack boots are now 
 as often omitted as included in the equestrian appoint- 
 ments of Monsieur le Postilion. During the different 
 changes between Rouen and Paris, we noticed only two 
 pair used in our " administration Preposterous as 
 is the appearance of these wood and leather leg-trunks, 
 their utility consists in giving more perpendicular 
 weight (plus de plomb) to the rider ; consequently a 
 firmer seat — and also in furnishing protection to the legs 
 and thighs, in the event of a horse falling. In the gene- 
 rality of our own postillions and drivers, there is a re- 
 spectable smartness of dress, which bespeaks a pride 
 and complacency in their vocation : the Frenchman is 
 more frequently shabby, never neat, and often incon* 
 sistenily fine. Now and then we met with a Gar$on 
 
 * Out of hi* latitude. 
 
39 
 
 de bonne fortune, in li is jacket of Royal blue, faced 
 with scarlet, bien poudre, accomplished with a bouquet 
 before, and a club pig-tail, that drummed into his back 
 the flour and grease with which it had been assidu- 
 ously filled : one could not possibly look at him with- 
 out thinking of .La Fleur. 
 
 The build and set-out of a French Diligence have 
 repeatedly been described with great minuteness of de- 
 tail by various tourists : the ponderosity of the machine, 
 and the " beggarly account" of ropes and chains, that 
 serve for harness and traces, with the huge caparison of 
 sheepskin collars, are characteristics which remain as 
 they formerly were, and will probably continue to be. 
 The vehicle is drawn by five horses — two at the wheels, 
 (one of which is ridden by the postillion) and three 
 leaders abreast. Whether this be one more than used 
 to be allowed to the public carriages, escapes my recol- 
 lection, but the rate of travelling is considerably more 
 expeditious than formerly, and sometimes indeed most 
 tremendously rapid. The u leathern conveniency" in 
 front, called the cabriolet y merits the commendation of 
 the traveller, inasmuch as it combines with the com- 
 fort and security of an inside place, the advantage of 
 enabling him at pleasure to view the country, and in- 
 hale the fresh air. A huge apron, hooked up by a 
 massy bar, keeps all close, and leaves only the head and 
 neck exposed : and should rain, or dust, or the approach 
 of night, require the passengers further protection, the 
 cabriolet is furnished with leather curtains, having 
 glazed eye let holes ; and thus external inconvenience is 
 shut out, without excluding light. By engaging this 
 situation, which we generally did from preference, eco- 
 nomy is at the same time consulted : it holds three per- 
 
40 
 
 sons, of whom Monsieur le Conducteur is always one 
 ex-officio. This personage corresponds, in some mea- 
 sure, with our guard ; his duties are of a very extensive 
 responsibility ; he regulates every thing, both with re- 
 spect to the rate of travelling, the changing of horses, 
 (in which he personally employs himself) and also the 
 safety and accommodation of the passengers, and se- 
 curity of their luggage and the property in general. 
 
 Our conductor from Rouen was an uncommonly 
 strong and active man, of the middle stature, and well 
 made : he had evidently been a hussar, or dragoon — 
 there was about him all that reserved, blunt, and un- 
 conciliatory manner which peculiarly marks the sol- 
 diery of the Buonaparte school. His alert and bold 
 conduct, however, continually excited our admiration : 
 while the carriage was going at full speed, he would 
 jump from the roof — refasten a trace or a rein — and re- 
 mount with celerity to his former situation. But for 
 his prompt exertions on some occasions, 1 believe we 
 should not have escaped without a casualty ; there are 
 so many " tags and jags" left unmended — pins un- 
 screwed — and tt ceteras of wear and tear unrepaired. 
 Frequently we were galloped down steep hills, in order 
 to give an impetus to our vehicle in ascending the next 
 eminence ; and in the plains, our postillions would put 
 their Norman steeds so much on their mettle, as to 
 set the loose pebbles on the pave flying against our faces, 
 in vollies that would have pelted our eyes out, had not 
 the blinds of our cabriolet been precipitately drawn in 
 our defence. 
 
 Normandy has long been esteemed to produce the 
 best breed of horses of any province in France. Those 
 on our road were excellent of their kind: something 
 
41 
 
 between a Suffolk punch and a riding hackney. As 
 they are permitted generally to retain the integrity of 
 their physical powers, it is no matter of wonder that 
 they should prove full of friskiness and spirit ; but they 
 have also the merit of doing the work of the road ex- 
 tremely well. The French postillions do not usually 
 deserve good horses : from thoughtlessness, vanity, or 
 cruelty of disposition, they too often subject that most 
 useful animal to extreme ill usage : every village must 
 be entered and quitted at full gallop, though perhaps 
 the greater part of the road is obliged to be crept over 
 by the poor brutes, to whom such fits and starts of swift- 
 ness are very exhausting. In England, though horses 
 are worked hard, and sometimes too severely pressed, 
 yet they are regularly fed and carefully groomed : but 
 in France they are made to feel more frequently the 
 sniartings of the untired whip, than the nutrition of good 
 provender, or the refreshment of the curry-comb. 
 
 The practice, which for its dangerous consequences 
 is so justly reprobated in England, viz. that of racing 
 on the road, is very prevalent here. We had a grand 
 contest of this kind, with a couple of men in a single- 
 horse cart : they happened to have the lead of us, and 
 made an object to keep it. Our postillion going at 
 the rate of eight miles an hour, found himself still dusted 
 by the buggy and one: this, as a Courier Royal , he 
 considered to be infra, dig. and he resolved not to sub- 
 mit to the nuisance; cracky crack , cracky went his whip ; 
 eo peOy peoy* and his horses were in a gallop ; the 
 stones began to fly in our faces ; we could only recon- 
 noitre through the little windows of our curtain. Still 
 the cart kept a- head, and the impudent varlets in it re;* 
 
 * A French postillion's call to hit horMt. 
 G 
 
Verted a leer of defiance upon our postillion, who in his* 
 turn looked back at his friend the Conducteur, with a; 
 flourish of his whip and a sort of half-laugh, as much 
 as to say, " a mighty pretty joke this — but I'll let them 
 soon know whom they have got to deal with :" then 
 shouting afresh to his horses, and simultaneously apply- 
 ing the lash in quick succession to the flanks of all five, 
 he gave redoubled velocity to our career, which neither 
 hill nor dale was capable of arresting. After a bard run 
 often minutes, " by Shrewsbury clock" in which our 
 competitors manifested extraordinary bottom and speed? 
 at length we passed them in fine stile. O then for the 
 pencil of a Hogarth, to perpetuate the emotions of 
 triumph and exultation depictured on our postillion's 
 countenance, and the workings of self-satisfaction that 
 shone forth in his various gesticulations. To us he 
 nodded congratulations on the victory he had just 
 gained, addressing his friend the conductor with many 
 a Sacre Dieu, against u les coquins opinidtres qui 
 eourent comme les diables." The vanquished party 
 however, were not yet reconciled to the lot of being 1 
 second best, and presently got the lead again : 
 our hero allowed them the laisser-passer, without fur- 
 ther contest ; perfectly content with having shewn, that 
 with five on his side against one, he could beat them, 
 no matter whose necks had been risked for so important 
 an object. 
 
 It was certainly an affair not wholly unattended with 
 danger. Had it happened in my own country, I might 
 have felt some alarm for the consequences : as it was, 
 the dust and the clatter, and the novelty of the thing, 
 raised such a happy confusion in my ideas, that I ex- 
 perienced all the indifference of being " only a lodger 
 
43 
 
 and, in fact, whether on or off the pave, or in the more 
 critical moment of changing from one to the other, there 
 was a trust-worthy strength in our wheels, and breadth 
 in our axle trees, that imparted infinitely more tranquil- 
 lity to one's feelings than our light narrow coaches 
 would have done under similar circumstances. An 
 overturn seldom occurs here, though luck more thaw 
 wit is to be praised on that account. In England they 
 are continually " tipping us over," but then the mis- 
 chief is done secundum artem I To see the any-how-zioay 
 in which a French postillion performs the manoeuvre of 
 bringing up, would throw a scientific disciple of the 
 waggoning system into a fit — of astonishment and laugh- 
 ter : 'tis any thing but handsomely done ; hind wheels 
 in one direction, fore wheels in another, and the horses 
 hauled round into an awkward groupe, with their heads 
 and tails in all manner of directions. Notwithstanding 
 all this, (which I merely notice because it is a complete 
 contrast of the English mode of managing such matters) 
 the changes are made with excessive rapidity. The 
 arrival at and departure from the post-house was lite- 
 rally the work of a moment. Tant mieux, for the 
 country along this road has little to amuse or edify : 
 the villages are a succession of miserable dilapidations; 
 no squire's mansion ; no snug parsonage ; no neat little 
 shops — indications of concentered opulence, or of dif- 
 fused property, such as are to be noticed in the gene- 
 rality of our English villages situated on main roads. 
 
 The Chateaux, which at long intervals expose them- 
 selves to our observation, plainly discover by their own 
 aspect, and by that of the demesnes that surround them, 
 that they are not yet the abode of that class who, from 
 education and influence, are alone fitted to be their in,- 
 
 Q2 
 
44 
 
 habitants. Their forlorn and dismantled condition 
 gives additional heaviness to the stile of their construc- 
 tion, in which seignorial dignity, not domestic ease and 
 convenience, had been the object consulted. They 
 seemed as if left only to stand in mockery of human 
 pride and folly ; the sad memorials of an exploded order 
 of political society, whose corruptions merited, and 
 whose weakness courted chastisement, but whose whole 
 fabric, excellent in the materials of its primary institu- 
 tion, venerable at least for its antiquity, and still suscepti- 
 ble of reparation, was, alas ! swept away by the annihi- 
 lating touch of so profane a hand as to blast every ra- 
 tional hope of adequate advantage resulting from such a 
 change ! The present generation in France appears 
 likely to reap little more than the evil fruits of the Re- 
 volution : perhaps the next may be destined to enjoy its 
 good fruits. The hasty work of presumptuous man 
 often proves a curse to the world ; but God's good- 
 ness never fails ultimately to convert misfortunes into 
 blessings ! 
 
 At Magny^ a u long dull line*' of a place, we stopped 
 an hour to dine. The diligence coming from Paris, and 
 our machine filled two tables ; and our repast was 
 somewhat of a better and more plentiful kind than is 
 usually provided for stage-coach passengers in England. 
 Pontoise, through which we next passed, is a very 
 considerable town ; the main streets well built, and its 
 situation picturesque : it contains some churches of a 
 noble exterior, and its ancient castle is a commanding 
 object. The country, which had hitherto presented " a 
 weary plain expanding to the skies,'* now becomes less 
 monotonous : but either Franconville, nor St. Denis, 
 (through both which we continued our way) nor even 
 
45 
 
 tlic still more immediate vicinity of Paris appeared t# 
 bear any analogy to the environs of London. The 
 heights of Montmartre^ identified at a great distance by 
 the telegraph on its church and the numerous windmills 
 on its summit, prepare us to look for the domes of the 
 Pantheon and the Invalides, which soon afterwards 
 become visible : yet not a single villa, nor country 
 box, intervenes to break the sameness of the straight 
 road that leads from the town of St. Denis ; nothing 
 that indicates the approach to a great Capital.— 
 This is one of the very striking points in which the me* 
 tropolis of France is in contrast to that of England. It 
 combines with other things, to mark the difference be* 
 tween a city of business and a city of pleasure. 
 
 At the Barriere of St. Denis we were called upon by 
 Messieurs les Gens D'Armes to shew our passports, 
 being for the tenth time at least since we landed at 
 Dieppe. This entrance to Paris is the least prepossess- 
 ing of any. The Gate of St. Denis, (at the boundary 
 of the Faubourg) forms a consequential introduction 
 to the body of the place ; and the transition is great and 
 pleasing, when, out of a long defile of narrow street with 
 lofty houses, we emerge through this triumphal re- 
 cord of the Grand Monarque's victories, and find our* 
 selves on a sudden in the broad road of the Boulevards^ 
 phcenix of health and ornament to Paris, sprung from 
 the ruins of those " gloomy towers and moats profound" 
 which anciently encompassed her. We reached our 
 Hotel about five o'clock, having performed a journey of 
 ninety miles in little more than eleven hours. 
 
46 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Paris — Reflections on revisiting it — Perambulation the First 
 — Square of the Carousal, its alterations and novelties- 
 Triumphal Arch — Restorations and improvements in the 
 Louvre — Palace and Gardens of the Thuilleries — New 
 Street of Rivoli — Buonaparte^ s Column in the Place Ven- 
 dome — observations on it — French pretensions to Roman 
 greatness. 
 
 May 20th. 
 
 jAlND here then am I again at Paris! Mingling in 
 the volatile throng, once more I pace her streets, traverse 
 her walks, survey her edifices : at every step meeting 
 objects calculated to create pleasure, to renew interest, 
 to awaken reflection, and to give to the memory of 
 scenes witnessed in early youth, all the force and all the 
 vivacity of yesterday's impression. Unchanged amidst 
 perpetual changes, unaffected by political vicissitudes, 
 unabashed by national humiliations, Paris still welcomes 
 the long absent stranger to her amusements, her curiosi- 
 ties, her delights — with features so animated, with an 
 outward shew of cheerfulness so oblivious of the bitter 
 past, as almost to induce a doubt whether the multifari- 
 ous and extraordinary events of which she has been the 
 conspicuous stage, may be aught more than the " un- 
 real mockeries" of a dream! The first evening of our 
 arrival, as r in company with my friend, I took aa eager 
 recognizing stroll, I could not help repeating to myself 
 the question, again and again, — u Is it possible that I 
 have not been in these places for fourteen years 
 
47 
 
 Parisians, you are just the same beings I once before be- 
 held ye ; unlike any other I have since been accustomed 
 to see — 
 
 ** So gay a round your thoughtless lives display ; 
 " So idly busy runs your world away." 
 
 But although, in reference to the active character 
 and social habits of its population, the motto " Semper 
 eadem" may, with very little qualification, be applied 
 to Paris ; yet, with regard to public works, whether 
 erected for the purposes of embellishment, of utility, or 
 of recreation, it is a city which, far from having re- 
 mained in an unaltered state, has been both ornamented 
 and improved since the period of 1802. Without pre- 
 suming to adopt any formal design of delineating Paris 
 of the present day, I shall have occasion, in the course 
 of my observations, slightly to advert to the nature and 
 extent of some of these restorations and additions. 
 
 Few people ever made a more assiduous and persever- 
 ing use of time and uninterruptedly fine weather, than my 
 worthy companion and myself did of the eighteen days 
 we passed in the French capital and its environs ; yet 
 am 1 but too sensible, that to recapitulate every thing of 
 interest which we saw in that short interval, is only to 
 betray how much remained by us unseen. Perhaps 
 there is not another place in the world, Rome alone ex- 
 cepted, w hich contains so great a fund of objects worthy 
 the attention of the curious and the scientific stranger ; 
 to the lover of pleasure, under all its varied forms, it 
 holds forth charms of unrivalled attraction ; and it 
 offers equal and unexampled facilities to the pursuits of 
 men of all tastes and dispositions. For him, therefore, 
 who would thoroughly know, and correctly describe 
 such a place as Paris, the residence of many mouths 
 
would scarcely be sufficient ; and as to the generality of 
 transient visitors, they must be content to come away 
 with ideas of it, almost as imperfectly conceived, and as 
 inadequately imparted, as those winch are attempted to 
 be given in the following pages. Our plan was to have 
 new objects for the occupation of each coming day ; 
 and we generally fulfilled it by an alternation of peram- 
 bulations through the town, and of excursions into the 
 country. On a similar principle of * diversification rather 
 than of classification ) I shall follow up the details of this 
 part of my Journal. 
 
 Our first walk commenced at the Carousel r with 
 the appearance of which I was much struck : the alte- 
 rations and novelties in this noble square have been very 
 considerable. These works were just beginning to be 
 put in execution at the period of my former visit. The 
 area of the Place had already been enlarged by pulling 
 down the buildings abutting on the Pavilion de Marsan 
 of the Thuilleries, and those of the street where the 
 machine in female was exploded. The great plan pro- 
 posed by Bernini to Louis XIV. for completing the 
 union of the two palaces of the Louvre and the Thuii- 
 leries,* was in great progress during the first years of 
 the late Government : its speedy accomplishment was 
 then regarded as certain ; but the anticipations of the 
 Parisians are still far, very far, from being realized, 
 and the gigantic design will in all probability be left 
 unfinished. About a hundred and fifty yards of the 
 New Gallery, in exact conformity to the architectural 
 character of its opposite prototype, have been built, and 
 
 * By the erection of a Gallery beginning at the northern angle of 
 the Thuilieries, parrallel with that on the side of the river; arid- extruding 
 to a point of connection with the Louvre. 
 
49 
 
 serve to complete, in a very regular and superb manner, 
 tlie Cour da Palais. Buonaparte doubtless gained one 
 of his principal objects, when lie had cleared away old 
 houses sufficient to enable a body of 15 or 20 thousand 
 men to manoeuvre there in review before him Indeed 
 the space already laid open is large enough to unmask 
 the stupendous line of the Thuilleries ; and the attempt 
 to unite two such buildings as that and the Louvre 
 Palace, in whose respective fronts there is so great a want 
 of parrallelism, promises little else than disappointment. 
 
 The exterior walls of the Louvre Gallery, and of the 
 Thuilleries, have been scraped and repaired wjth great 
 labour and care. Even the shot-holes that were wont to 
 be pointed out as memorials of the attack of the insur» 
 gent rabble on the murderous 10th of August,* have 
 all been filled up: nothing of that sort now remains 
 ** to catch the conscience" of the once u Sovereign 
 People." But, although the " good citizens" of Paris 
 have long made up their minds to discard the whole 
 series of sad thoughts ; yet they must not esteem it a 
 breach of that good breeding which is now again their 
 boast, if the stranger should now and then exhibit symp- 
 toms of a less accommodating memory. For my own 
 part, so often as I visit this truly magnificent and beau- 
 tiful quarter, where indeed there is so much to excite 
 admiration and to inspire enjoyment, I must confess that- 
 not all its qualities, however imposing and agreeable, 
 nor all the pleasurable sensations which it communicates,* 
 as the favourite resort of a lively people — are yet power- 
 ful enough to repel the obtrusive thought of those re- 
 volutionary atrocities, which u in my mind's eye" 
 stamp the heart-oppressing name of Golgotha on each 
 
 * 1792. 
 
 H 
 
50 
 
 prominent feature of the splendid and! animated scene I 
 
 The triumphal arch erected by Napoleon in honour 
 of the campaign of 1805, is an elaborate and exquisite 
 piece of workmanship ; but it requires some command 
 of temper when one observes its situation and size, and 
 judges of them relatively to the objects by which it is sur- 
 rounded. It is no disparagement to the merits of the artists 
 who designed and constructed it, to notice that they took 
 the arch of Septimus Severus, at Rome, for their guide. 
 They have not confined themselves to a servile imitation 
 of the antique, but have displayed strong marks of ge- 
 nius in the decorative parts. Among the sculptures 
 with which it is adorned, are eight figures severally 
 representing a cuirassier, a dragoon, a foot chasseur, a 
 carabineer, a grenadier of the guard, an artillery man, 
 and a sapper, in all of which, executed as they are in a 
 very fine style, the French military costume and per- 
 sonal characteristics are delineated with great fidelity, and 
 with the happiest attention to the picturesque adjust- 
 ment of attitude, arms, and drapery. As a national mo- 
 nument, however, it is palpably deficient ; it looks like 
 the model for some larger work, rather than the work 
 itself which is to commemorate events of public glory. 
 Placed in the vast extent of ground that intervenes 
 between two palaces, in whose presence its dimensions 
 shrink into insignificance, and harmonizing with no- 
 thing around, it serves only the more conspicuously to 
 expose an irremediable defect, viz. that the Louvre and 
 the Thuilieries are not on the same axis,* and conse- 
 quently that their portals and esplanades can never be 
 so arranged as to face each other! The groupe of 
 tie four Corinthian horses, harnessed to the Car of 
 
 * Vide " Description de Paris, et de ses edifices, par Legrand t " 
 
51 
 
 Victory, could not fail to have formed a choice orna« 
 rnent on the top of this arch. These trophies from Venice 
 were, in 1802, disposed in a different way : they stood 
 singly, each on a separate pedestal, in the alignement 
 of the iron railing of the Court of the Carousal. The 
 gilding of the car and variegated marble of the arch are 
 not in unison with the simplicity of the Roman model. 
 Perhaps, as the Austrians have caused the horses of Ly- 
 sippus to march off the ground, the best thing this arcus 
 triumphaltSy thus " shorn of its beams," could do, 
 Would be to follow the example, and place itself in some 
 situation where it shall no longer interrupt the view of 
 more majestic structures (like the handsome little church 
 of St. Margaret by the side of Westminster Abbey) but 
 be admired, as it deserves, for the taste and beauties 
 with which it abounds. 
 
 The restorations and improvements which have been 
 effected, and are still going on in the Louvre, claim the 
 acknowledgement and approval of every one who values 
 the preservation and amelioration of civil architecture. 
 Few things of the kind surpass this noble quadrangle, 
 each side of which is distinguished by a stile distinct 
 from the other, and yet the discordances and irregulari- 
 ties have been so greatly subdued, that they now tend 
 to increase rather than to lessen the interesting appearance 
 of the whole structure. Both History and the Arts unite 
 their powers of captivation, as we survey this celebrated 
 edifice — this object of the munificence, and this theatre, 
 alas ! of the crimes of Kings. It presents us with speci- 
 mens of the taste which prevailed in three succeeding 
 epochas of the French Monarchy— viz. That of Francis 
 the First and Henry the Second — that of Louis the XIV. 
 and that of the reign of Louis XV. To these it would 
 
 H 2 
 
52 
 
 be unjust to omit adding the works that belong to the 
 reign of Napoleon, which, not confined to the mere 
 object of repairing and cleaning, have been extended, 
 at an immense cost, to every part both of the facades and 
 the interior of the building, uniting the labours of the 
 sculptor and the architect, in a variety of embellishments. 
 
 After the successes of the French arms, in 1806, Bo- 
 naparte appropriated a prodigious treasure (out of the 
 contributions wrung from the conquered people) to the 
 completion of the Louvre. For three years the works 
 proceeded with a rapidity perfectly characteristic of the 
 man under whose auspices they were planned : after 
 that time they began to flag. The restless insatiate 
 temper of the " buckler raised Emperor," involving 
 him in fresh wars, which, while they spilt oceans of 
 blood, put little or no " money in his purse," caused 
 the designs of metropolitan aggrandizement to be cur- 
 tailed — and public difficulties increasing in later years 
 beyond all measure, obliged him to, direct his building 
 fund to other purposes. And it would really seem, as 
 though, speaking historically of the Louvre, — it is a 
 Palace which never is, but always to be finished. 
 
 The justly famous Collonade, the chef d'eeuvre of 
 Perrault, and a classic specimen of the French School 
 of Architecture, unfortunately wastes its Corinthian 
 magnificence on au undignified and dirty part of thfe 
 town. How greatly would its elegance and beauty have 
 been advantaged, had it, instead of the eastern, formed 
 the western front, looking in the direction of the Carou- 
 sal and the Thuilleries ! This, however, would have 
 been inconsistent with the design of manifesting the re- 
 finement of the modern, without destroying the labour 
 of the old school. A more reasonable ground of com* 
 
53 
 
 plaint is, however, to be found in the disposition of the 
 French Restorers to be " never ending, still beginning." 
 When I was here before, the esplanade in front of the 
 collonade was (I well remember) clogged with scaf- 
 folding, blinds, and building stones. It will scarcely 
 be credited, but, these self-same nuisances still remain 
 to impede the view and impair the effect of one of the 
 finest morceaux of modern architecture, that ever gave 
 dignity and splendour of aspect to a lloyal residence.— 
 The bus reliefs placed over the entrance of the vestibule, 
 and in the pediment of the collonade, give a fine finish 
 to the central arrangement of that front : their subjects, 
 connecting as usual the reign of Napoleon with the mo- 
 numents of the ancient dynasty, are admirably executed 
 in the most chastened spirit of modern design. 
 
 Quitting the Louvre, we retraced our steps across the 
 Carousal, and passing through the Palace, entered the 
 Gardens of the Thuillcries, where, ascending the noble 
 Terrace of the Seine, we seated ourselves at our ease, and 
 enjoyed the truly grand perspective. The palace and 
 the gardens are alike worthy of a Great King ; and, 
 with the surrounding objects, all on a corresponding 
 scale of magnificence, adorning and adorned, constitute 
 a scene inexpressibly fine. Placed in the midst of this 
 arrondissement of the capital, one is no longer at a loss 
 to account for the raptures in which a Frenchman always 
 speaks of it. Here, indeed, are combined so many 
 qualifications which render a promenade delightful — the 
 sciences of architecture, sculpture, horticulture, hy- 
 draulics — all exert their several charms for promoting 
 mental gratification, and for administering corporeal 
 relaxation and refreshment. Here, amidst palaces, 
 statues, parterres, fountains, trees, and terraces, the 
 
M 
 
 Parisian of humble life permitted with equal facility of 
 access to share, in these respects, the advantages enjoyed 
 by his wealthier neighbours, experiences all the pride 
 as well as the satisfaction of proprietorship. The spa- 
 cious gardens are open every day till dusk: they arc 
 laid out in a taste much improved of late years ; and, 
 being kept with great neatness and security of regula- 
 tion, they afford every accommodation of cool benches 
 and shady walks, which an ardent though delicious 
 summer sky renders most acceptable. 
 
 The majestic front of the Palace, occupying a line 
 of more than 300 yards, presents like the Louvre, a 
 dissimilarity of stile, and a dissonance of parts, the na- 
 tural consequence of those successive plans of enlarge- 
 ment and decoration to which it has been made subject. 
 Catharine de Medicis, whose character and adminis- 
 tration afford a strong instance to prove, that a cultivated 
 taste for the line arts, and a munificent disposition for 
 their encouragement, may exist in a very wicked mind, 
 and in a most depraved age— this princess employed 
 Philibert de Lorme to build the great pavillion in the 
 middle, which, with the two contiguous wings, form, 
 under the improvements of Louis XIV. the lightest and 
 most elegant portion of the edifice. The collosal archi- 
 tecture and insupportably heavy roofs of the flanking 
 pavillions of Flora and Marsan, added by Henry IV.' 
 and Louis XIII. shew the art of building to have retro* 
 graded during the cruel and barbarising period of reli- 
 gious dissentions. Taking it, however, for all in all, 
 the exterior of the Thuilleries inspires a powerful senti- 
 ment of admiration ; for though not the result of one 
 grand idea, it still displays a most extraordinary degree 
 of regularity • and ike near inspection of its minuter 
 
55 
 
 details is as eminently calculated to reward the attentive 
 observer, as its general aspect is superbly commanding 
 when viewed from that just point of distance which em* 
 braces it in a single coup d'ceil. 
 
 Parrallei with the Gardens of the Thuilleries, facing 
 the old Terrace des Ftuillanls, a new street has been 
 opened, forming a very handsome communication be- 
 tween the Place de Carousel and the Place de Louis 
 XV. The houses are on the very first scale of gran- 
 deur, but a considerable portion of them remain in an 
 unfinished state. This street is called the Rue de Ri» 
 voli,* and is pierced at right angles by another, extend- 
 ing to the Boulevards, through the Place Vendome. In 
 the centre of this square, Napoleon's " column point- 
 ing to the skies" presented, in its fine proportions and 
 superior elevation, an object which it was impossible to 
 view at a distance without being irresistibly attracted 
 to take a closer and more leisurely inspection of it. It 
 is precisely on the model of Trajan's column at Rome. 
 PiranesVs fine print of that celebrated historical monu- 
 ment shews us, that not merely has the idea been bor* 
 rowed from it, of adorning the shaft from top to bottom 
 with basso relievos, but the ornaments of the stylobate 
 or pedestal have been also suggested from the same 
 source. The noble simplicity of that famous pillar 
 has, however, been deviated from in the base of the 
 shaft, under the moulding of which, at each angle of the 
 pedestal, above the cornice, " the eternal blazon" of 
 the Eagle has been foisted : these Imperial birds of prey 
 are employed in supporting with their beaks a garland 
 of laurel. The column is constructed of stone, with a 
 perfect casing of bronze ; the latter material all formed* 
 
 * In honour of Marshal Masseua. 
 
56 
 
 i 
 
 as it is said, from (lie brass of the cannon taken in the 
 campaign of 1805. The bas reliefs, ascending in a 
 spiral form from the base to the capital, delineate in 
 chronological order the principal actions of " the three 
 months' war" as it was called in the Latin inscription, 
 placed over the gate of entrance,* 
 
 There are 276 of these plates of bronze, each of which 
 is three feet wide and three feet eight inches high ; they 
 are founded in the most ingenious manner from designs 
 of uncommon merit, and are fixed into the stone work of 
 the inner case of the column, with so much accuracy, 
 that it is difficult to perceive where they join. More 
 than three thousand figures of soldiers, and as many 
 more of horses, with every description of military equi- 
 page, are here introduced into the representation of the 
 different battles and incidents of the campaign, such as 
 the crossing of rivers, taking of towns, surrendering of 
 keys and colours, marching, charging, and bivouacking ; 
 in short, the whole eventful history, beginning with the 
 departure of the Grand French Army from the camp at 
 Boulogne to the battle of Austerlitz, and the conclusion 
 of the Peace of Presburg ; the seal of that disgrace to 
 Austria in the cabinet, which imbecility, cowardice, 
 and treason had wrought for her in the field. 
 
 Alike developed in the most brilliant exploits of mili- 
 tary skill and valour ; in the most daring and cruel mea- 
 sures of a system of government without either justice 
 or good faith ; and in the concomitant spirit of the 
 meanest and most corrupt intrigue, the Genius of revolu- 
 
 * Napolio. Imp. Aug. Monumentum Belli 
 Germanici. Anno MDCCCV. trimes — 
 Tt i spatio duct u suo profligati ex acre capto 
 Glorias exercitus uiaximi dicaviu 
 
57 
 
 tionary France, under her child and champion, lias 
 glorified the day of her prosperity by the erection of 
 this beautiful and imposing monument. And may not 
 the Allied Sovereigns be said to' have celebrated the con- 
 summation of European independence, by consecrating 
 the respect with which they have, for the second time, 
 treated it as a work of art, to the infinitely higher glory 
 of a just and firm, yet liberal and enlightened policy ? 
 
 The statue of Buonaparte (12 feet high) which stood so 
 proudly on its summit, and is now but poorly supplied 
 by the White Flag, was taken down at the effervescent 
 moment of re-action, by the hands of Frenchmen alone. 
 Mobs, under whatever watchword they act, whether of 
 liberty or of loyalty , whether of philosophy or of religion, 
 equally delight in injuring that which they are unable 
 to appreciate ; and the same blind impetuosity with 
 which the inconstant multitude removed the effigy, to 
 the cry of " a has le Tyran" would have in this in- 
 stance extended to the mutilation of the pillar which it 
 crowned, but for the protecting interference of that very 
 Power over whose misfortunes it vaunted, and whose 
 submissions it commemorated. Austria, satisfied with 
 having wiped away the stain of her defeats from the page 
 of modern annals, disdained to claim the rights of con- 
 quest or to plead the law of retaliation, for the purpose 
 of revenging her wrongs on a memorial of past fame, to 
 take away which would not have " enriched" her, but 
 made France u poor indeed." 
 
 The concierge having furnished us each with a small 
 lanthorn, we ascended, by their light, the steep windings 
 of a geometrical staircase of stone constructed in the in- 
 terior of the column ; and from the gallery at the top 
 were presented with a complete view of the city. It 
 
 I 
 
58 
 
 Would indeed be difficult to select a situation more ad- 
 vantageous for a panoramic painting of Paris. The 
 height of it* is sufficient to command all the principal 
 edifices ; and it may better be dispensed witli in the pic- 
 ture than Notre Dame, the Pantheon, or the Invalids : 
 it moreover stands in the most interesting and elegant 
 part of the capital. All the Panoramas of Paris which 
 I have seen, being taken from some central point of the 
 city, appear liable to this objection — that they afford 
 only distant and indistinct views of the Thuilleries and 
 its Gardens, and of the Place de Louis XV. and con- 
 sequently that they fail to do that justice to the subject, 
 TVhich would result from depicturing this metropolis in 
 its most favourable light. From hence, on the contrary, 
 instead of looking on all sides into a parcel of old chim- 
 nies and narrow streets, the subject lies before us, in a 
 wide circle of magnificence ; nor is the eye in danger of 
 being annoyed in the fore-ground by the obtrusion of 
 any disgusting or undignified objects. 
 
 Ov^er the capital is a balcony, encompassing a 
 small dome, on which it is said a statue of Char* 
 lemagne was at first intended to have been placed ; 
 but Buonaparte, not content with forming the prominent 
 figure in every successive range of the bas reliefs, was 
 pleased to have hit own there. Neither of them, cor- 
 rectly speaking, (as I conceive), were appropriate* 
 The former would have been an egregious piece of ana- 
 chronism — the latter was the personage who professed to 
 dedicate the monument to the glory of others. Trajan's 
 
 * The height j including the base and capital, is 120 feet ; its diameter 
 at the bottom 14 feet, diminishing upwards to 12 feet. The Pillar of 
 Trajan is 140 feet high, and the Monument at London 202 feet in height. 
 Thus the French column falls short not only of the proportions of our 
 Wren's, but also of those of the antique, of which it is a close imitation* 
 
59 
 
 image suf mounted the pillar, which bears his name and 
 records his victorious actions ; but he was the object of 
 its dedication. Such distinctions as these, however, arc 
 too hyper critically nice for French flattery and military 
 pride to see, or to value, if seen. The metallic covering 
 imparts a sounding vibration, and even the sensation of 
 a tremblement in windy weather — and, owing to the 
 glare of its polished surface, as well as to the spiral di- 
 rection of the plates, the examination of the different 
 groups on the shaft is attended with a painful effort. 
 
 But, whether considered for the style of the sculpture 
 which is of the most masterly kind ; whether for the in- 
 genuity employed in its construction, in which difficul- 
 ties of the most complicated nature were surmounted ; 
 or whether for the general disposition and effect, which 
 is that of sublimity and beauty united, this Brazen 
 Pillar is every way calculated to excite our wonder 
 and our praise. Raised by Napoleon to perpetuate 44 the 
 Glory of the Grand French Army /" but converted by- 
 events into a more lasting record of his own vanity and 
 ruinous extravagance, it does indeed deserve, for its 
 executive merits, to be distinguished as the Triumph of 
 Art* If, however, the mortal remains of all the victims 
 to this " bold bad man's" ambition could be accumu- 
 lated to form the materials of a pyramid, the enormous 
 fabrics of Egypt would be, compared to it, even as a 
 " Wart" to u Ossa." A pyramid of human skulls, ce- 
 mented with human blood, and varnished o'er with 
 human tears—the lofty summit crowned with the sculp- 
 tured personification of Earthly Misery seeking its only 
 refuge in the arms of Death. This is the monument 
 which " the imagination," undazzled by false greatness, 
 and undebauched by false principles, " bodies forth" 
 
 12 
 
60 
 
 to the fame of Buonaparte the Conqueror. This, ap- 
 palling as it is in idea, dreadful and disgusting were it 
 capable of realization, would nevertheless be the Triumph 
 of Truth ! 
 
 The French of our days have been very fond of giving 
 themselves lioman airs. M Delenda est Carthago" was 
 their invading war-whoop against England, Proud 
 Paris, however, h as, par hasard, been in somewhat greater 
 jeoparJy of being blotted out of the map than shop* 
 keeping London. Equally unfortunate seems to have 
 been their selection, for a model, of the Column a Trajana. 
 The Conqueror of the Dacians played his part better 
 than to lose all the fruits of his own and his predecessors' 
 victories : he did not devote his grand army to inevita- 
 ble destruction, nor did he desert them at their utmost 
 need : he did not live to see his capital twice in the 
 power of an enemy, nor survive the ignominy of a 
 second abdication ! Yet, in one point, there is a coin- 
 cidence. AncLnt Dacia now forms part of the here- 
 ditary dominions of the House of Austria; and was sub- 
 dued, or at least beaten into submission, by the French, 
 under Buonaparte, as it was of old by the Emperor to 
 whose renown the u Senatus Populusque Romanus" 
 elevated the sculptured pillar of the Forum. Here the 
 similitude of destiny ceases : more fortunate than their 
 barbarous ancestors, the Hungarians with the rest of 
 €t mighty Germany," recovering from their state of thral- 
 dom, have at length dictated in turn to their oppressors ; 
 and might, " muiato nomine" have re-inscribed the 
 tablet which proclaimed their disasters, to the honour 
 of their own Monarch, as having had a personal share 
 in the glories of a War, not of " three months " but of 
 less than u six weeks" duration ! 
 
61 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Pa ris — Second Perambulation—New Market Place des 
 Jacobins — Churches of the Magdalen and the Assumption 
 — The Elysian Fields — Place of Louis XV. — Grandeur 
 of its surrounding objects — Reflections on the Murder of 
 the King and Queen of France — Place des Victoi res- 
 Palais Royal, 
 
 May 2lst. 
 
 In commencing our walk, this day, we passed through 
 the ci-devant Place des Jacobins, where on the scite of 
 the hall of the political Pandemonium of that name, a 
 most excellent covered market has been erected by the 
 late Government. Proceeding thence to the Boule- 
 vards, we observed that the Church of the Madeleine, 
 the cemetery of numerous victims to the tribunal of ini- 
 quity in the time of Robespierre, still remaining a rude 
 heap of stones, although its completion is essential to 
 form one of the finest vistas in Paris, and although it is 
 actually represented as ^.finished building in the print- 
 shops of that metropolis. Passing through the Rue St. 
 Honors, we looked into the Church of the Assumption, 
 a small temple with a prodigiously great cupola, for- 
 merly celebrated for its collection of altar paintings ; the 
 interior of the dome is finely ornamented by the pencil 
 of La Fosse. 
 
 Continuing our way along the faubourg St. HonorS, 
 in which are some fine edifices, (among the rest 
 the hotel of the British Ambassador) we made ap- 
 plication for admission at the Ely see Bourbon, which 
 (by the description given of it) has in no point fallen off 
 
m 
 
 from its splendour and elegance since the time when it 
 was the abode of the voluptuous mistress of Louis 
 XV.* Unluckily for us the apartments of this palace 
 were under the hands of the colourer and the painter, 
 and all entrance prohibited. Along the walls of its 
 extensive gardens, we next proceeded to the Champs 
 ElyseeS) the Hyde Park of Paris, and the pre- 
 sent favourite resort of our English fashionables, with 
 whose dashing equipages and equestrian appointments 
 the Parisians of the bonton, although much improved in 
 these appendages of gentility, are yet unable to vie with 
 success. The trees of the Champs Elysees^ notwith- 
 standing the destruction made among them by the 
 bivouacs of the English troops who were encamped 
 there, still afford a pleasant shade, and though planted 
 in the formal qumcunx style, have a handsome and ap- 
 propriate appearance. In the midst and on all sides of 
 these plantations are the guinguetles, salles a danser y 
 latteries, and pleasure gardens, where the Parisians, 
 chacun a son gout, enjoy their tele a tete or convivial 
 and conversational parties. On a fine Sunday afternoon 
 the Champs Elysees are the very picture of vivacity, 
 and the scene of varied amusement to persons of both 
 sexes, and of all ranks, ages, and conditions. 
 
 Returning through the Elysian Fields, grandeur en- 
 creased on us at every step ; till arrived in the centre of 
 the Grande Place which intervenes between them and 
 the Thuilleries, we were compelled to acknowledge that 
 the capital of the British Empire, superior as it is in 
 point of weallh and extent to Paris, and abounding as it 
 does with numerous insulated specimens of architectural 
 excellence, yet offers no equal to the concentrated splen- 
 
 * Madame de Pompadour. 
 
63 
 
 dour that here surrounded us. In our front, (as wer 
 stood) were the Gardens of the Thuilleries, the spacious 
 entrance to which, marked by two noble pieces of eques- 
 trian sculpture,* discovers, at the extremity of a far 
 stretched line, the stately palace of the King. Turning 
 our eyes to the right, the bridge of Louis XVI. leads 
 them to the modern fagade of the Palais Bourbon, the 
 present Chamber of Deputies, with the golden dome of 
 the Invalids shining in the distance. On the left the 
 collonade of the Garde Meuble presents a princely eleva* 
 tion, the continuity of which is broken by a fine street^ 
 leading to the Church of the Magdalen, whose comple- 
 tion (as I have already remarked) is indispensably ne- 
 cessary to the intended perfection of this part of th« 
 capital : it now forms a blank which one is astonished 
 should have been suffered to remain unsupplied, by men 
 so studious of effect as the artificial French. Lastly, look- 
 ing back in the direction of the Elysian Fields deco- 
 rated at their entree with sculptural designs, corres* 
 ponding in subject and in merit with those at the 
 opposite face of the square, the perspective is equally 
 interesting and extensive through the avenue of Neuilly, 
 where, on an eminence beyond the Barriere de l J Etoile y 
 a view of three quarters of a mile in extent is terminated 
 by an unfinished arc de triomphe, begun about nine 
 years ago, to commemorate the conquests It is built 
 on a very grand scale, but the scaffolding opposes all 
 inspection. The situation is extremely well chosen t 
 from the esplanade on which it stands, the traveller 
 passing from the bridge of Neuilly obtains the first view 
 of the palace and garden of the Thuilleries, then sepa* 
 rated from him by a distance of nearly a mile and a 
 
 * Coysevox's winged horses of Mercury and Fame. 
 
04 
 
 half— an approach which forms the grandest entrance tcr 
 Paris ; and constitutes, indeed, one of the most superb 
 and commanding avenues that can be beheld. It is dif- 
 ficult to account for the tardiness of Buonaparte in 
 completing this monument to his own glory. That me- 
 teor star being set (I trust for ever) the arch will in all 
 likelihood be embellished with illustrations of other 
 events than those of victories, the fruits of which have 
 all been lost — aye, and more than lost — even before the 
 masses of stone which were to have composed their exult- 
 ing memorial could all be laid one upon another ! 
 
 Such is the ensemble of objects that environ the Place 
 de Louis XV. and it is perhaps not to be matched on 
 this side of the Alps : the extent, the variety, and 
 grandeur of the view received additional brilliancy from 
 a beautiful sky, and from the gay crouds flitting past us 
 in all directions, over the place to which a sensual mo- 
 narch, in an age of fascinating but corrupted manners, 
 gave his name in exchange for unmeaning adulation, and 
 unmerited panegyric. The French are still true to this 
 trait of their old character, (as ascribed to them by the 
 discriminating Goldsmith) 
 
 u They please, are pleased ; they give to get esteem, 
 * ( Till seeming blest, they grow to what they seem : 
 " The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws, 
 " Nor weighs the solid worth of self applause.'* 
 
 No monument has yet been substituted in the room 
 of Bouchardon's equestrian statue of Louis XV. This 
 would unquestionably have been the preferable spot for 
 the military column, instead of the more circumscribed 
 inclosure of the Place Vendome : but it would seem as 
 if the Parisians superstitiously dreaded to " mark the 
 marble with the name" of public glory ^ on a spot where 
 
65 
 
 the blood of the illustrious and the innocent was poured 
 out (horribile dictu) in overflowing libations at the 
 altar of Democracy and Atheism. They now talk of 
 erecting an expiatory monument to the memory of Louis 
 XVI. and Maria Antoinette : it is to stand on the very 
 pavement where, in sight of objects identified with their 
 former greatness and prosperity, objects afterwards 
 changed to scenes of massacre for their faithful guards, 
 and of indelible shame to civilized subjects " in their 
 strange and frightful transformation"* — that august, that 
 royal pair, suffered the revolutionary death of the Guil- 
 lotine. History offers no parallel to this atrocious deed — 
 this blackest act of judicial murder. More justly en- 
 titled to the appellation of Martyrs than either our own 
 Charles, or Scottish Mary, the King and Queen of 
 France fell a sacrifice to that excess of tenderness, which 
 prompted them to spare the lives even of those rebellious 
 subjects who panted for, and at length accomplished 
 their destruction. A revolution accompanied by such 
 a " triumph of Anthropophagi" over rank, birth, and 
 beauty ; over humanity, fortitude, patience, piety ; 
 every amiable quality, and every elevated virtue — would 
 not, and could not " come to good." No, from that 
 moment, " for aye accursed in the calendar," France 
 became a Volcano, scattering abroad, to the annoyance, 
 plague, and ruin of surrounding nations, the fire of 
 civil discord and irreligious frenzy that consumed her 
 own bowels. In vain she swore " eternal hatred to 
 Royalty" — the iron sceptre of a Military Emperor was 
 laid heavily on her : in vain she coupled in one " pow- 
 erful form of incantation" La Liberte ou la Mort— 
 millions on millions she doomed io the grave ; but the 
 
 * Burke. 
 K 
 
66 
 
 prisons were filled with the victims of oppression ; 
 whilst the blessings and the smiles of Freedom fled from 
 her polluted fields, and still retreated in dismay where 
 e'er her troops of furies followed. A long ascendency of 
 guilt succeeded ; and the People, lost to religion and to 
 honour, felicitating themselves with possessing the vain 
 bubble of military glory, amidst the total extirpation of 
 every institute of constitutional liberty, had already 
 imagined that outraged humanity and insulted Heaven,, 
 would permit the crime of the 21st of January* to pass 
 for ever with impunity. Presumptuous race — the blow 
 to unrighteous power and to impious pride was prepar- 
 ing by Providence even at a time when they thought 
 least of it ; and when their Ruler, puffed up with the 
 conceit of " brief authority," said in his heart, " my 
 tower is so strong it shall never be cast down." — 
 Great as was his elevation, so rapid and profound was 
 fcis fall : the colossal fabric of the " Empire" crumbled 
 into pieces. And here, where the descendant of Saint 
 Louis, and " the daughter of Emperors and Kings"— 
 breathing the christian accents of love for all mankind, 
 and praying forgiveness for their murderers — perished 
 \)y the ignominious hands of jacobin executioners : here, 
 in this Place de la Revolution, the armies of Europe, 
 united in one just, one common cause, have recently at- 
 tested their power and their moderation, tho' surrounded 
 by monuments that boasted the joy and pride of a single 
 nation in the subjugation and misery of a whole continent ! 
 . Making a retrograde circuit, we returned by the Place 
 des VictoireS) from the plan of which the Circus at Bath 
 was probably copied. It will be recollected, that its 
 founder, the Duke of Feuillarde, placed in the middle of 
 
 * 1793. 
 
67 
 
 it a Statue of" the Immortal Man,"* as, with that pagan- 
 like prostration of flattery, which is truly French, the 
 monument was inscribed to the honour of Louis XIV. 
 This decoration of the Place des Victoires was destroyed 
 in 1792. And the u Christ of Providence" (as Buona- 
 parte was called, on his assumption of the Imperial 
 title, by the pious Archbishop Cambaceres), had in- 
 tended to replace it with a trophy to his own renown. — 
 Whatever the design might be, the completion is of 
 course suspended sine die ; and, when the skreen is re- 
 moved which at present covers the central point of the 
 Place, we shall in all probability be favoured with a 
 further sample of adulation, drawn from the same in- 
 exhaustible source, and fashioned to the cut of the pre- 
 sent moment, which, with these folks, is every thing i 
 
 We finished this our second round of perambulation 
 with the Palais Royal ; the point of attraction to 
 foreigners in general, and to em own countrymen in par- 
 ticular. It used to be said of the Pont Neuf, formerly, 
 that the police, if in search of a person, would watch 
 for him there, and if he did not pass in a given time, 
 they concluded he was not in Paris. The criterion of 
 that bridge, as a thoroughfare, might be applied now 
 to the Palais Royal, as a lounge, in which one English- 
 man, on the look-out for another, would doubtless expe- 
 rience the same success, or otherwise be warranted in 
 drawing the same positive inference. 
 
 It would be difficult, however, to say what are the 
 superior attractions of the Palais Royal, that should 
 render it a place of such universal and favourite resort. 
 It is certainly not the architecture, which, like the 
 finery, both animate and inanimate^ displayed under 
 
 * " Viro Immortali" was its inscriptive dedication. 
 
 K3 
 
68 
 
 its arcades, presents a heterogeneous mixture of splen- 
 dour, meretriciousness, and trumpery. It is not the 
 arrangements of the enclosure of the principal Court, 
 where not a single improvement, either in care or taste, 
 considerable enough for me to discover, has been made 
 in the dry insipid promenade of what is called the Garden. 
 Nevertheless, the Palais Royal is the most amusing and 
 the most convenient, as it is the most frequented place 
 in Paris. Many circumstances unite in producing this 
 result ; and these being chiefly such as involve conside- 
 rations of local and national character, it is only by 
 attaining some degree of acquaintance with its little 
 world of men and things, that one becomes capable of 
 deriving that degree of interest which it has the power 
 of affording. Doomed from the very first to be an ex- 
 ample of mutability, its construction and its appropria- 
 tion have varied according to the ministerial ambition, 
 the regal voluptuousness, or the princely avarice of its 
 successive owners. Its history (an epitome of that of 
 France, for the like period), exhibits all the striking 
 features of opposition and contrast, a record of extremes 
 in government and in destiny. The Palais Royal has 
 in turn witnessed the prevailing power of slavery and of 
 anarchy ; the reign of refinement and of vandalism ; the 
 period of glory and of humiliation. As the Palais Car* 
 dinal) made worthy even of a King's acceptance, by the 
 arbitrary artful Richelieu ; the seat of luxury and taste, 
 during the Regency of the Duke of Orleans ; converted 
 into a Bazaar of more than Eastern brilliancy, by his 
 speculative and abandoned successor ; the focus and 
 engine of debauchery, blasphemy, and treason, in the 
 hands of the same disgrace to rank and birth, the self 
 nick-named Citoyen Egalite of the Revolution — and 
 
69 
 
 lastly, it has been seen placed under the protecting 
 guard of British soldiers, to save it from falling a prey 
 to tumultuous conflicts between the irritated Parisians 
 and the retaliating sons of Prussia ! 
 
 The outside of this celebrated structure is hidden by 
 the surrounding houses, except the first court on the 
 side of the Rue St. Honore (comprising the apartments 
 of the present Duke of Orleans). The interior, built of 
 stone, is a spacious parrallelogram, three faces of which 
 are supported by arcades, affording a convenient piazza 
 to walk under, and lined with shops and coffee-houses. 
 Above these is a story occupied by the Restaurateurs 
 and the Gaming Tables ; and these again are surmounted 
 with a third range, tenanted by Brothel-keepers ; a 
 fourth or attic tier, as disreputably inhabited, crown 
 the lofty pile. Such are the purposes to which this 
 Royal palace has been appropriated since the com- 
 mencement of the Revolution. The shops in the arcades 
 are among its greatest peculiarities : in these, Parisian 
 ingenuity out-does itself in forming a mulium in parvo. 
 Within the space of an hundred yards, one sees speci- 
 mens of every trade and calling : the jewellery, armory, 
 porcelaine, and cut-glass maganins^ (as these petty re- 
 ceptacles are pompously denominated) are shiningly 
 Conspicuous ; and, among the various successful devices 
 for giving consequence to the stock in trade, that of co- 
 vering the walls with looking glasses is not the least. — 
 The intermixture of character aud costume, of nations 
 and complexions, in constant circulation through its* 
 walks ; the showy and motley scene presented during the 
 pocturnal illuminations — all combine to give an unique 
 character to this interesting, though in many respects 
 very objectionable rendezvous of business and pleasure. 
 
70 
 
 CHAP. VIL 
 
 Excursion toSt.Germain andMalMaison— -Cabriolets 
 — Environs of Paris — Gardes du Corps of the King of 
 France — Chateau and Terrace of St. Germain — House" 
 keeping in France — Walk in the Forest of St. Germain- 
 Mai Maison— Inflections on the Character of Josephine 
 end of Napoleon. 
 
 Maw 22d and 23d. 
 
 H/WING determined to devote a portion of time to 
 the pleasure of visiting our friend the Chevalier de B. 
 at St. Germain en Laye, we breakfasted early, and 
 proceeded to the Quai des Thuilleries, for the purpose 
 of taking our place iu one of those numerous cabriolets, 
 that ply at all hours of the day, between the capital and 
 the towns in its environs. In the neighbourhood of 
 the different Barrieres, long rows of these voitures de 
 place are continually to be seen ; and happy is the 
 stranger who approaches the stand, if he escape from 
 the herd of cockers and commissionaires, (by whom, as 
 soon as seen, he is sure to be surrounded) without any 
 considerable loss of either time or temper. It was truly 
 ridiculous to see ourselves parading with a mob of these 
 voluble sons of Phaeton, at our heels 5 each praising his 
 own carriage, as le plus propre y le plus commode du 
 monde, excellent cheval, &c* And then they are always 
 ready to start dans la minute, though, when they have 
 t)oxed you up, the cry is u place pour deux>\ pour trois t 
 
 * The cleanest, (he most convenient in the world, excellent horse, 
 f Room for two, for three, &c. 
 
71 
 
 ct St. Germain, a Versailles, &c. and thus the unfortunate 
 first customer is kept stewing with heat and impatience, 
 till they have filled the clumsy two-wheel machine, with 
 as many as their conscience and their humanity w ill 
 allow : the extent of the former goes to the admission of 
 from six to ten passengers ; and the tenderness of the 
 latter may easily be conceived, when it is understood 
 that the whole dreadful weight comes on one miserably 
 lean horse, which they drive down-hill with unrelent- 
 ing whip, to make up for time consumed on level 
 ground in dragging " his slow length along." 
 
 Nothing can be more variable than the incidents one 
 meets with in this description of cabriolets, which cor- 
 responds in object though not in accommodation, with 
 the short stages in London. If, by chance, one finds 
 oneself among decent company, the horse proves a rank 
 jade — the wheels give way — or the state of the vehicle 
 possibly corresponds too closely with the appellation 
 commonly given to it by the Parisians.* Sometimes 
 again, after fixing on one that is pretty well appointed,, 
 the probability is that you are joined by shabby fellow 
 travellers — ami, at other times, circumstances are un- 
 favourable in all three respects at once. Besides the 
 inside passengers, there is room made for two to sit on 
 the seat in front, with the driver. The persons so 
 placed are called lapinsA A gentleman of M's. ac- 
 quaintance, who had engaged a whole machine for 
 himself and party, was asked by the conducteur if he 
 had any objection to his taking up a couple of lapins. — 
 " Certainly not," said our unsuspecting countryman^ 
 (taking the word in its literal acceptation) " three or 
 four if you like." The consequence was, that the Eng. 
 
 * * Pot de chambre." f French for " rabbit," 
 
72 
 
 lishman's view was impeded, and his anticipated comfort 
 destroyed, by the driver's using this special privilege, 
 in favour of two fat frowzy old dames whom he overtook 
 on the road ; and, before John Bull arrived at his jour- 
 ney's end, he confessed, that 
 
 " Of all such rabbits old and tough, 
 
 " He thank'd the Lord he'd had enough. " 
 
 But whatever their imperfections and inconveniences, 
 these voitures are often acceptably useful ; and those 
 who are desirous of consulting economy, as well as of 
 studying the character of the gerts da peuple, (which 
 has an inexhaustible fund of originality and variety in 
 it), will find both their interest and their amusement in 
 occasionally condescending to use them. 
 
 The moment we have passed the walls af Paris, we 
 find ourselves completely out of town. Our way to St. 
 Germain lay through the Barriere de VEtoile y of which 
 as the scite of the new Triumphal Arch, I have already 
 spoken. The country in this direction is replete with 
 picturesque scenery, but it is deficient in those objects 
 which indicate the affluence of individuals, and which 
 give a social finish to the landscape. The maisons de 
 plaisance are here and there very Ihinly scattered ; and 
 these few being for the most part embosomed in woods, 
 or situated on eminences distant from the main road, are 
 not to be compared with the cheerful and commodious 
 appearance of the countless villas, and country boxes, 
 in the neighbourhood of London. The Seine, which, 
 at setting out, we saw receding from us widely to the 
 left, now crosses our path, after making almost the cir- 
 cuit of the Bois de Boulogne, and we pass over it by the 
 beautiful bridge of Neuilly. The banks of this fine 
 river, which, in its winding course, presents itself 
 
73 
 
 three times in our short journey of twelve miles, abound 
 with diversified views most enchantingly adapted to the 
 study of the painter. English taste and English in- 
 dustry would, however, enrich the natural charms of 
 the prospect in a thousand ways^ unknown to those who 
 have never traversed the borders of the majestic Thames. 
 The soil, which is chalky, appears every where fertile 
 and well cultivated : undivided by hedges, or any kind 
 of enclosure, the whole face of the country is chequered 
 with innumerable small strips of varied produce — a rood 
 of lucerne ; a slip of rye ; a planting of peas ; a vine* 
 yard ; all in the space of an acre : it looks more like 
 gardening than farming ; and is the agricultural systems 
 all round Paris. 
 
 The usual stop was made at Nanterre: a village much 
 honoured by the good Catholic Parisians of old, as the 
 birth-place of their patron Saint, the Virgin Genevieve ; 
 but now regarded by the graceless badauds* of the pre- 
 sent day only for its cakes, the insipid crumbs of which 
 they wash down with half a dozen demi verves d?Eau de 
 Vie. t From this place the ride becomes more and more 
 agreeable : the rising grounds of Ruel and La Malmai* 
 son, with their respective chateaux and barracks, on the 
 left ; and the line of luxuriant meadows watered by the 
 Seine, extending wide to the right of us, conduct out 
 regards, as in the perspective of some Italian picture, 
 to the fine heights crowned by the aqueduct of Marli ; 
 and the equally commanding though more distant emi- 
 nence of St. Germain castle. The Machine constructed 
 by the founder of Versailles, to supply that arid region 
 
 * This term, as applied to the inhabitants of Paris, corresponds with 
 that of Cockney, by which the Londoners are nick-named. * 
 f Half glasses of brandy. 
 
 L 
 
74 
 
 of artificial grandeur with " nature's bounty," to squan- 
 der in jets (Teem, is an ingenious piece of intricacy ; 
 but whilst its purposes could so easily be effected by the 
 simpler and more powerful operation of the steam engine, 
 such an object so terrifying to horses would not be suf- 
 fered to cross a public way, nor such an obstacle to impede 
 the free course of a navigable river in England. But 
 the truth is, the Seine here has the least appearance of 
 business or pleasure of any stream I ever beheld : un- 
 wieldy rafts and miserable barges compose the gayest 
 flotilla that floats on her bosom* 
 
 Arrived at the Chateau of SL Germain, we were re* 
 ceived with great friendship by Col. De B. whom we 
 found en militaire, exercising the Company of the King's 
 Gardes du Corps, of which he is the acting Commandant. 
 In this employment he has for some time past been kept 
 six hours every day, on foot and on horseback ; a ser- 
 vice of no little fatigue for the officer, who has tbe 
 training of the squadron, composed as it is almost en- 
 tirely of recruits : for the gentlemen who accompanied 
 their bon paire des Gants* (pere de Ghent) as they pun- 
 singly call the King, to and from Flanders, have on ac- 
 count oftheir fidelity been subsequently placed as officers 
 in the Royal Army, now re-organizing. They are se- 
 lected from families df noble origin, and of known de- 
 votion to the Royal cause ; and are for the most part as 
 fine a set of fellows as one would desire to see : but so 
 young, so volatile, so careless, and withal so proud of 
 their rank as officers, and their dignity as body-guards- 
 men, that to manage them properly can be no easy task. 
 
 De B. however, has evidently acquired the method 
 of bringing all these mettlesome and quarrekome tempers 
 
 * Good pair of gloves. 
 
75 
 
 into a practicable form of subordination, if not as yet 
 into a perfect state of discipline.* The native cheerful- 
 ness and liberality of his disposition, and the knowledge 
 >vhich he has acquired of men, manners, and events, 
 operate in the regulation of his own conduct towards 
 these new pupils, by the happy medium between over 
 indulgence and excessive severity. He is beloved and 
 respected by them all. 
 
 The Chevalier de Saint Louis pointed out to us a gen« 
 tleman of his Company, not more than 25 years of age, 
 decorated with several orders ; of whom he related some 
 interesting particulars both of his bravery and devotion 
 to the good cause. This young Frenchman, at that time 
 in the Russian service, was the first to plant the allied 
 standard on the walls of Leipsic, at the great battle of 
 1813. Being on Alexander's staff, on that ever memora- 
 ble day, he solicited and obtained permission to lead 50 
 chosen men to the attack of one of the gates of the city ; 
 and with this gallant little band, though reduced to less 
 
 * The full dress of the Gardes du Corpshasun extremely martial appear- 
 ance: the coat is dark blue, faced with red, and richly embroidered with sil- 
 ver lace and bullion ; epaulettes and aiguillettes of the same ; the schaho or 
 hairy cap ; coefced hat, sabre, Soother cavalry appointments of correspond- 
 ing costliness and splendour. The corps is but indifferently mounted, but 
 that is a falling off in which they only partake with other regiments of that 
 arm, in the French military establishment. There are four companies of 
 these Household troops of the King of France, each of 400 men ; they are 
 named and commanded as follows, beiug distinguished from each other 
 by the colour of their feathers. 
 
 1st. La Compagnie Ecossaisc, the Due d* Havre. Plumet pourpre. 
 
 2d. La Compagnie de Grammont, Due de Grammont* Plumet vert. 
 
 3d. La Compagnie Luxembourg, Due de Luxembourg, Plumet jaune. 
 
 4th. La Compagnie de Noailles, Prince de Poix. Plumet Bleu* 
 
 Their turn of duty on the King's person at the Thuilleries, \s every 
 $hree months. 
 
 L3 
 
76 
 
 (ban half its number by the enemies' lire, before they 
 could reach the top of the rampart, he succeeded in 
 forcing an entrance for the assailant troops to enter the 
 place. The immediate consequence to him was, that he 
 was honoured with the Russian, Prussian, and Swedish 
 orders ; and the further result, his being placed in the 
 Gardes da Corps ! 
 
 The avocations of the drill being finished, the Colonel 
 conducted us to his apartments in the Castle, where we 
 had the honour of being introduced to Madame De B. 
 who received us with the utmost politeness as her hus- 
 band's friends, and with a hospitable cordiality as her 
 fellow countrymen. After partaking of some refresh?- 
 ment, we were favoured with the Lady's company in a 
 walk through the castle. This building, the birth place 
 and residence of several kings, is now in a most forlorn 
 and dilapidated state. The substructure is of stone ; and, 
 rising out of a deep and broad fosse, it has in this part 
 all the massiveness and gloom of the castellated mansions 
 of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. About mid- 
 way from the base, the materials of which the exterior 
 of the Palace is composed are of red and grey bricks, 
 and it is evidently of later architecture : its lofty walls 
 are encircled at this point of change with a balcony 
 defended by an iron balustrade ; but all in so ruined and 
 dangerous a condition as to make one pay somewhat 
 dearly, in the agitation of the nerves, for the satisfaction 
 which a noble prospect affords to the curiosity. 
 
 From this balcony, ranging through the long suite of 
 apartments, small and great, that look out upon it, we 
 saw nothing but the emblems of human grandeur in ad- 
 versity — so lonely, dismantled, and woe-begone is now 
 that friendly asylum, where the abdicated Majesty of 
 
77 
 
 England breathed forth the expiring sigh of u rooted 
 sorrow," and unavailing vexation. When, however, 
 the manifold signs of that decay into which the Castle 
 has fallen, were attributed, (and that too by Royatistes) 
 to the scurvy treatment which it had experienced, during 
 its recent appropriation as the barracks of the British 
 troops, I made bold, for the information of such grateful 
 folks, to offer a recollection or two which my mind 
 still retained of the Castle of St. Germain, at the period 
 of Napoleon's Consulate ; when it was nothing better 
 than the cazerne of his guard, whom I had seen loung- 
 ing on these same balconies, and of course committing 
 the usual nuisances of military licence, and unrestrained 
 mischievousness. Really, Messieurs les Gardes du 
 Corps, it was, to say the truth, not much in my expecta- 
 tion, and I dare say as little in your own, at that time, 
 to see the defenders of Louis le Desire, in the un- 
 disturbed occupation of this ci-devant depot of the 
 chosen veterans of Buonaparte! Nevertheless, such 
 things have actually taken place ; and I am very far 
 from being of the number of those who are sorry for the 
 change. Be it remembered, however, that, in order to 
 confirm this happy restoration, the Duke of Wellington 
 and the British Army were under the imperious neces- 
 sity of arriving here before the Guards of the King of 
 France, and if in thus doing his Most Christian Majesty 
 €C a great right," our thoughtless but not wrong- 
 hearted countrymen, have done his castle " a little 
 wrong ;" why, let it be a point of friendship, on your 
 part, a to wipe all clean again, and say no more 
 about it." 
 
 What a spring of ideas forces itself on the mind, as 
 cne pursues in this dreary pile the endless maze of stair- 
 
78 
 
 case, hall, and corridor, and 66 passages that lead to 
 nothing." Methought, what would be the feelings of 
 " the Stuart," if, revisiting this mutable scene of 
 earth, his wounded spirit could " walk in death ;" and 
 still gifted with the mortal faculties of reminiscence and 
 (speculation, have comprehended the wondrous series of 
 events, that brought hither the descendants of his once 
 obedient people, to support in all just rights the great 
 grandson .of his royal brother and benefactor! Among 
 the faults of our Second James, arbitrary, bigotted, and 
 infatuated as he was, that of being devoid of the love of 
 country, and of attachment for his English subjects, will 
 not, I apprehend, be ranked by the impartial reviewer 
 of his character and conduct. 
 
 On quitting the Palace, we directed our walk to the 
 famous Terrace, which for the picturesque charms of the 
 prospect, as well as for the great extent of landscape 
 embraced in the coup (Hczil, deserves the praises with 
 which it has ever been celebrated. But I decidedly 
 differ from the opinion expressed by Colonel De B. (in 
 the national pride of heart inherent in a Frenchman], that 
 it is even equal, and much less am 1 disposed to agree that 
 it is superior (as he considers it), to the rich, the varied, 
 the always novel beauties of the view from Richmond 
 Hill, or from Windsor Castle. The alignement of this 
 elevated promenade, from the Pavillion, (where Louis 
 XJ V. is said to have been born) to the grand entrance 
 into the forest, is upwards of a mile and a half. It is 
 delicious to inhale the health that comes floating hither 
 on the wings of the pure air, from the expansive plain 
 which it commands. The sinuosities of the Seine, how* 
 ever, form the only really striking feature of the pros* 
 pect : the spires of St. Denis and the cupola of the Pan* 
 
10 
 
 theon, are the marks by which alone we trace the vici- 
 nity of the capital. Still, the situation of St. Germain is 
 altogether so fine— so worthy of being the residence of 
 Royalty, that one can imagine no reasonable motive 
 which could have induced the u Grand Monarque" to 
 exchange it for that of Versailles. 
 
 The hour of dinner drawing near, we returned to the 
 Chateau. With the exception of our friend's and ano- 
 ther officer's rooms, together with a suite belonging to 
 the Duke of Grammont, this vast place is uninhabited; 
 and so intricate is its ichnography, that a person losing 
 himself in the dark, in passing from one quarter of the 
 building to another, would find it both difficult and 
 dangerous to attempt regaining the clue, till the return 
 of day light. Welcomed with a kind reception by*' 
 ear host and hostess, we passed an hour or two after 
 dinner in a most agreeable manner. The party con- 
 sisted, besides ourselves, of two brother officers of the 
 Colonel's, very gentlemanly young men, and great ama« 
 teurs de musique. Madame De B. keeps up as much of tbe 
 English mode of living as possible. With a flattering 
 reproach to my friend and myself, for omitting the social 
 insular custom of the table, she observed she anticipated 
 the pleasure of drinking healths that day. The French, 
 who boast so much of their polite assiduities to the sex, 
 have no relish for, nor conception of that pleasing act of 
 convivial gallantry — the ceremonial of drinking wine 
 With a lady. I told Madame De B. that I recognized 
 the hand of English neatness and good order in the state 
 and arrangement of the apartments. " Yet no one (she 
 remarked) but those who have kept house in France, 
 can imagine the inconveniences and difficulties to be 
 encountered, in the attempt to overcome, though ia 
 
80 
 
 never sd small a degree, the dirty and slovenly habits of 
 French servants." The Colonel, afterwards, speaking 
 of what he laughingly denominated his wife's miseries , 
 acknowledged that his countrymen were sometimes most 
 unaccountable folks, both in their ideas and actions. 
 He then illustrated the subject with a few appropriate 
 anecdotes, relating them to us with a glee which evinced 
 his own correct idea as to the impression they were sure 
 to make on our minds. Suffice it to say of these traits 
 caracteristiques, that they pointedly served to shew the 
 difference of perception between the two nations, in re« 
 gard to the constituent qualities of what is called delicacy ^ 
 in reference to expression and manners. 
 
 We finished our afternoon with a walk about the 
 towny in which, however^ there is little to interest the 
 stranger, or apparently to accommodate the resident. 
 The two or three only decent looking streets have a de- 
 serted appearance : no symptoms of business, and but a 
 scanty shew of property : yet in this, among other places, 
 our English emigres^ our economists flock together ; 
 here they plant themselves and vegetate. Discontented 
 with the state of their own country, they are still ever- 
 lastingly grumbling at what they encounter with here : 
 indulging in that waywardness of temper, which they so 
 egregiously mistake for independence of spirit, they 
 evince their patriotic opposition to the policy of their 
 own government by openly eulogizing the system of 
 Buonaparte ; and manifest their respect for the consti- 
 tuted authorities of the realm in which they are now 
 domiciliated by ridiculing and abusing the Bourbons 1 
 Yet, with all this language, (unseasonable and indis- 
 creet to speak of it in the mildest terms) accompanied 
 too by what the French call " une maniere meprisante," 
 
81 
 
 they wonder that they are not received with more comU 
 deration and cordiality ; and they incontinently proceed 
 to denounce French society altogether, as equally devoid 
 of hospitality, and unsusceptible of friendship : when 
 the fact is, that they themselves neither study those 
 points of urbanity, which can alone give them claimsto 
 the one ; nor do they take the trouble of shewing them- 
 selves possessed of those amiable qualities which are so 
 peculiarly adapted to elicit and confirm the sentiments 
 of the other. 
 
 After enjoying the refreshing air of a serene and 
 cloudless evening, we retired well pleased with our day. 
 The nights here are delicious : no damps, no noisome 
 vapours. Such is the advantage which France possesses 
 over England — in point of climate. Next morning be- 
 fore breakfast, we walked to the esplanade before the 
 castle, and there found the Gardes du Corps already on 
 horseback, and a General inspecting them. Though 
 one of Buonaparte's officers, he commands the district. 
 Immediately after the second restoration of the King, 
 a promise was held out to the little band of faithful 
 soldiers, who had followed his Majesty to Ghent, that 
 they should all be advanced a grade in rank : that pro- 
 mised recompence, it seems, has not been yet bestowed. 
 Several instances of favour have been shewn to old scho- 
 lars of Napoleon (unimplicated in the last treasons) ; but 
 to this system of conciliation (prudent no doubt) have not 
 hitherto been conjoined any corresponding marks of atten- 
 tion and encouragement to those men of approved loyalty, 
 who had so often risked life, and so long sacrificed 
 property, in the Royal cause. With this small but ho- 
 nourable class it would appear, that u Virtue must be 
 its own and only reward." Possessed of these facts oa 
 
 M " 
 
m 
 
 the spot, it was no difficult matter to efface from my 
 mind the erroneous* impression, so industriously incul- 
 cated by some of our home politicians, that the present 
 government of France was influenced by the spirit, and 
 made subservient to the views of the Ultra Royalists ! 
 
 After breakfast, we bent our course into the forest of 
 St. Germain, which is upwards of eight leagues in cir- 
 cumference, occupying between two and three thousand 
 acres, and presenting, in full perfection, the various 
 diversifications of woodland scenery. The plantations 
 chiefly consist of oak and beach ; but the timber, being 
 suffered to remain in too crowded a state, does not grow 
 to any considerable size. About a mile into the fo- 
 rest is a house called Les Loges : at the period of my 
 first visit it was an academy for the education of youngs 
 gentlemen, and where I passed several agreeable days 
 in the society of my worthy friend H. I beheld its 
 walls and turrets of conventual origin and construction 
 with a pleasing— mourning emotion: they reminded 
 me of past enjoyments ; and they warned me of the ra- 
 pid march of time. The present appropriation of this 
 establishment is that of a Maison d? Education for the 
 daughters of Members of the Legion of Honour ; an 
 endowment of the Ex- Emperor, which does him ho- 
 nour ; and which is very properly supported by the 
 Royal Government. " O si sic omnia V y Would that 
 Buonaparte's institutions had in general been so deserv- 
 ing of commendation : how gratifying would the record 
 of them be to that disposition which " nothing exte- 
 nuates, nor sets down aught in malice." 
 
 We were perpetually charmed in observing the effect 
 of light and shade produced on the foliage, as, favoured 
 with a serene and brilliant sky, we advanced into the 
 
83 
 
 .heart, or, ranged along the skirt of this vast wood. At 
 intervals we find circular openings (called by the wood- 
 men etoifes, or starsj : from these central points, four 
 and sometimes six or seven paths radiate to a greater or 
 lesser extent. In rambling through the different paths, 
 our admiration is continually excited, either by the view 
 of a beautiful country opening at their extremity, or by 
 the luxuriant verdure of their branches, which inter- 
 twining form long alcoves. The tints of the embower- 
 ing leaves, now sinking into a gloomy shade, now burst- 
 ing into light and vivacity, as their degree of density 
 renders them exposed or impervious to the sun, keep the 
 eye unceasingly fascinated by the rapidity of transition 
 or by the boldness of contrast. As we emerge from the 
 forest, in the direction of the ancient and picturesque 
 i town of Poissi/, the landscape becomes quite Arcadian. 
 The course of the Seine, marked out by an extensive 
 and elevated ridge of woodland is bordered with villages 
 and country seats, whose walls of white sto#e, and roofs 
 of blue slate, are in lively opposition to the green land- 
 scape. The stag and wild boar are hunted in this 
 forest : we saw none of either ; indeed, " as to game" 
 of any kind, it was little more than Boniface's " couple 
 of rabbits" The Royal Gardes de Chasse seem to have 
 here a very scanty charge compared with what gene- 
 rally devolves to the keeper of an English gentleman's 
 preserve. 
 
 Early in the afternoon ye took leave of our friends at 
 i the Castle, and set out on pur return to Paris. We this 
 i time noticed an old mansion, situated close to the road 
 side, not far from the foot of the steep ascent that forms 
 . the approach to St. (Germain : this piece of domestic 
 architecture, whi^h we had passed unheedingly before, 
 
 M2 
 
84 
 
 being then ignorant of its history, we now surveyed 
 with interest and reflection, as pointed out to be the 
 Hotel d* Estree, once a residence of the beautiful 
 Gabrielle, for whose " dear sake" Henri Quatre, of 
 amorous and galant, no less than of brave and pious 
 memory, would, like another Antony, " all for love and 
 the world well lost," encounter an hundred risks not 
 only of life but of honour: 
 
 " Quelque temps de Henri la valeur immortelle 
 
 is Vers ses drappeaux vainqueurs en secret le rappelle: 
 
 Unn invisible Main le retient malgre lui, 
 *' Dans sa vertu premiere il cherche 1111 vain appui : 
 Sa vertu l'abandonne ; et son clme enivree 
 N'aime, ne voit, n'entend, ne connoit que D'Estree. 
 
 Henriade. 
 
 We stopped our cabriolet at the entrance to Mai 
 MaisoYi^ and alighted full of high expectations : far from 
 being disappointed they were exceeded by the result of 
 our visit. All the objects we there saw proved of a 
 kind so congenial to the dictates of nature, and to the 
 spirit of true taste, that we experienced from them a 
 pleasure beyond even what the reported merits of the 
 place had led us to anticipate. When I passed Mai- 
 Maison in the First Consul's time, it was not accessible 
 to the inspection of the public. Detachments of his 
 Guards defended the approach from the intrusion of the 
 " profane vulgar," and enshrouded their General's 
 favourite retreat, with the fierce but characteristic 
 feature of military restriction. Since that epocha of 
 liberty equality, and indivisibility of Republicanism , 
 the body politic of France has sustained great altera- 
 tions, and Mal-Maison has changed both its owners and 
 its aspect. On Buonaparte's marriage with the Aus- 
 trian Princess, he gave this little Chateau and its grounds 
 
85 
 
 to his repudiated Empress. Of the state of perfection, 
 both with regard to interior embellishments, and the 
 ornamental arrangement of the gardens, to which it at- 
 tained under the fostering care of Josephine, a slight 
 idea may be gathered from what I am about to add as 
 a souvenir of our visit. The estate devolved at her 
 death, in 1814, to her son Eugene Beauharnois, late 
 u Prince Viceroy of Italy ;" but he resides out of the 
 kingdom, and this fair domain, in whose shades and 
 lawns already the chilling breath of neglect has im- 
 printed a desolate air, and within whose portals " the 
 spoiler's hand is seen," appears destined to experience 
 all the disadvantages of an absentee proprietorship. 
 
 The house is a small stone building in the old chateau 
 stile, with four corps de logis, or pavillions, at the angles. 
 The entrance front is by no means prepossessing : that 
 towards the garden presents an appearance so much out 
 of the common way, as bespeaks the care and cost of 
 which it has been made an object. Statues of very fine 
 workmanship ; granite columns of a V Egyptienne, in- 
 termingled with orange and tulip trees, and shrubs and 
 flowers of rare beauty , both indigenous and exotic, form 
 a parterre, in which the Arts seem to honour themselves 
 by an unostentatious and harmonious union with the 
 superior productions of Nature. The interior is fitted 
 up with exact attention to classic simplicity. The form 
 of the apartments ; the manner in w hich the walls are 
 painted or hung with drapery ; the decorations of the 
 ceilings ;* the construction and materials of the floors ; 
 the admission of light ; the various articles of furniture, 
 whether for ornament or use ; are all in most striking 
 conformity to the ideas one has conceived of a i?o« 
 
 * Painted by Blonde!. 
 
$6 
 
 man Villa. Unlike the usual abodes of the rich, it has 
 -all the attractions of elegance — all the advantages - of 
 luxury, comprised within a scale the most favourable to 
 domestic ease and retirement. The Gallery of Pictures 
 is the largest and most shewy of the rooms : the greater 
 part of the bijoux of the pencil and chissel, which had 
 of late years rendered it so celebrated among the con- 
 noisseurs, has either been purchased by the Emperor of 
 Russia, or claimed as stolen property, under the resto~ 
 rathe system, by Prussia and the Italian powers. There 
 are still left some excellent paintings and statuary ; and 
 the floor of the gallery is beautifully inlaid. A superb 
 table, in mosaic work, shews that in that curious and 
 laborious art, the French have attained a degree of per- 
 fection equal to what is exhibited in some of the finest 
 remains of the antique. Among the portraits is a half 
 length, size of life, of General Dessaix, said to be a 
 most correct likeness : the person is warrior-like, and 
 the physiognomy expressive and dignified. Also a 
 picture of the Ex-Queen of Holland, wife to Louis 
 Buonaparte, and of her son ; the boy who, as the 
 scandal of that day used to affirm, was, for near and dear 
 considerations, adopted at one time by Napoleon as his 
 successor to the Imperial Throne. Among the statues 
 is an admirably executed figure of Josephine. The 
 same consistency of refinement, equally removed from 
 an insipid plainness, and an overcharged or tawdry 
 'display of ornament, pervades the upper suite of apart- 
 f ments, where we were shewn her bath, and boudoir v and 
 c^tlso the bed chamber where she died. The neighbour- 
 ing church of Ruelle is the place of her interment. In 
 the Salle & dejeuner I noticed two choice water-colour 
 drawings, which^foom tjbeir ^appearance and the cir- 
 
87 
 
 cuftistances in which they were placed, it seems correct 
 to conclude were the original designs by M. Denon of 
 the Battles of the Pyramids 7 and of Aboukir^ contained 
 in his great work. These were not the only indications 
 of a partiality and preference existing in the mind of 
 Josephine for the Egyptian epocha of Buonaparte's 
 glory. The chapel of Grecian architecture and of pro- 
 portions corresponding with those of the Chateau, is of 
 white marble, and contains a handsome altar piece. — - 
 The person who conducted us through the house, a re- 
 spectable looking man, of the middle age, dressed in a 
 dark green suit of livery, informed us he had been 
 mailre d'hotel (house-steward) to the u Imperatrice" 
 (as he invariably stiled her), and was now in the service 
 of " Prince Eugene." I said, I had always understood 
 "the Empress" was very kind and good to het family 
 and domestics. " Sir, (replied the man with quickness), 
 she was good to every body (elle etait bonne a tout 
 le monde ) , and every body loved and respected her." 
 It was no more than I had previously heard respecting 
 the character of Josephine ; but there was something so 
 zealous in the manner, and so atfectionaie in the tone, 
 with which the servant uttered his laconic eulogy on 
 the departed mistress, that his words went forcibly and 
 welcomely to my heart ; and the gardens which we were 
 then entering had not the fewer charms in my eyes, for 
 having been arranged in their present enchanting stile 
 by a person whose taste was equalled by her benevo- 
 lence. 
 
 Both the grounds and gardens are laid out com- 
 pletely a FAnglaise. The English model, however^ 
 has not been merely imitated, but rather made the foun- 
 dation for a happy fancy to work on, with judgement 
 
88 
 
 and success. The land rises in a gentle slope for 
 some distance from the house, when it assumes a more 
 decided eminence, the extended ridge of which is 
 adorned with fine plantations. The lowland part^ 
 marked with perpetual undulations, offers every where 
 the desired capabilities ; and no advantage of locality 
 has been lost, in order to multiply the views and give 
 the animation of novelty to the successive points of 
 scenery. The objects of embellishment are well selected 
 and correctly placed. Tours de Vue rise above the 
 groves on the hills— light cassinos peep through the 
 intervals of the clustered trees — conservatories for 
 plants — forcing houses for fruit, point out the area 
 occupied by the gardens, which equally abound with 
 supplies for the bouquet and the kitchen. Along a val- 
 ley between the gardens and the house, a canal is made 
 to wander with the easy windings of a natural stream; 
 its banks were covered with rose trees in bloom, and 
 other flowers ; and here and there shaded with cy- 
 presses, willows, and lilacs. Close to this piece of 
 water is a cascade issuing from a grotto of artificial 
 rock ; the gloomy shade of which we enter only to be 
 the more sensibly struck on reaching its further extre- 
 mity, by the charming situation in which is placed a 
 choice morceau of Grecian architecture. This little 
 peristile, which announces itself as the " Temple de 
 I Amour" contains a pretty figure of Cupid, and on the 
 plinth of the statue this couplet is inscribed : 
 u Qui que tu soit, voici ton maitre: 
 " // 1' est, le Jut, ou le doit etre"* 
 Returning back to the house, we seized a lingering 
 
 * Whoe'er thou art, thy Master see: 
 He is, or was, or ought to be. 
 
89 
 
 look from the garden front, where, crowning their iM* 
 jestic heights, the aqueduct of Marli, and the Chateau 
 of St. Germain compose the appropriate distance to a 
 picture replete with all the charms df elegant retirement. 
 There was something impressive in the historical asso- 
 ciation, as thus, from the recent tenure of ephemeral 
 sovereignty, we viewed those former seats of the ancient 
 dynasty of the French throne !— " Adieu^ Mai Maison" 
 was our almost involuntary exclamation ; and whilst, 
 with reluctant steps we quitted the captivating spot^ a 
 thought once more reverted to its last possessor, nor 
 could our minds withhold a tributary feeling of consi- 
 deration for the memory of a w oman w ho, although in- 
 debted for elevation to the intrigues and profligacy of 
 civil troubles, and not wholly free from their taint, had 
 yet " borne her faculties" with exemplary meekness — 
 who had possessed the creative genius which this fairy 
 land developes, and given practical scope to the bene- 
 ficent qualities which all around most gratefully assign 
 to her praise. Josephine, united in marriage to the 
 person and fortunes of Napoleon, might truly be said 
 to have been the better part of that extraordinary man. 
 She w cis to him as a good genius ; his fame was her 
 idol \ her advice, whilst followed, was his guardian and 
 guide : and could she have softened the stern and stub- 
 born stuff of his vaulting ambition, by transfusing into 
 it some portion of that benign regard for the interests 
 of suffering humanity which distinguished her own 
 character — the reign of Buonaparte, instead of impove- 
 rishment and humiliation, might have heaped blessings 
 upon France ; and his policy, instead of pouring deso- 
 lation, might have shed an ameliorative influence over 
 the rest of Europe ! 
 
 N 
 
90 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Paris — Third Perambulation — The King's Library — Bou- 
 levards of Montmartre and the Temple — Place de la 
 Bastille — Fountain of the Elephant — The Duchess of 
 Angouleme — Manufactory of Mirrors— Place Royale — 
 Marche des Innocens — Rue de laFerronerie — Halle ait 
 Bles — Church of St. Eustache — The New Exchange. 
 
 vv E commenced this day's perambulation with a 
 visit to the King's Library, in the Rue de Richelieu; 
 and as with tip-toe steps we hastily crossed the first suite 
 of apartments in this vast treasure-house of learning 
 and genius, anxious not to disturb, by the sound of our 
 feet, the silent men whom we found seated at the book- 
 covered tables, we bethought ourselves of from what 
 small beginnings great results proceed. Like the grain 
 of mustard seed in the parable, the little library of 
 Charles the Wise has, by the diffusion of knowledge^ 
 the revival of arts, and the developement of science, ac- 
 cumulating volume on volume, as more than 400 yearst 
 have since rolled on, encreased from some nine hundred 
 books, (kept in the Old Louvre) to the prodigious and 
 unparralleled assemblage of 358 thousand printed 
 volumes, 72 thousand manuscripts, and five thousand 
 port-folios' of engravings. In this estimate, however, I 
 believe are included some inestimable additions from 
 Italy and Germany, which (having been obtained sub« 
 sequent to the Revolution, by means to* which neither 
 Literature, nor Justice, nor Honour give their sanction) 
 were last year surrendered tcr the reclamations of their 
 
91 
 
 former possessors and lawful owners, backed by the 
 convincing strength of argument, the ultima ratio of 
 compulsion, used by the Allied Powers previous to 
 their second evacuation of this capital. To those who 
 enter this great intellectual depository for the simple 
 purpose of a cursory inspection, a facility of access to 
 the books is not to be attained, except thro' introduction 
 to the librarians; but if a stranger has either study or re- 
 search in view, it is only necessary for him to intimate 
 his wishes to the proper persons in constant attendance, 
 when every accommodation is afforded, and every at- 
 tention paid him. Whatever book, manuscript, or 
 x)ther article he requires, is brought ; a seat at the table 
 assigned him ; at the end of each day's avocation his 
 papers are taken care of, and at his next visit pre- 
 sented to him with the most punctual observance. 
 This is indeed an arrangement worthy of a public li- 
 brary : similar regulations, I believe, are now esta- 
 blished itf our own national Museum in London ; but, 
 to give the credit where it is justly due, it was the ad- 
 mirable example long held out in the administration of 
 this and other collections at Paris, to which the in* 
 •creased facilities of our own are mainly attributable. 
 
 In t hese rooms, we begin with "the French Parnassus,'' 8 
 by ML Titon du TiRet, 1721, in which, by a puerile 
 climax of flattery, Louis the XlVth is represented as 
 Magnus Apollo to the artists and poets of his reign. 
 There is also a fine model or plan of the Pyramids of 
 Clhise. Among the sculptural embellishments of the 
 principal saloon, the statue of Voltaire presents itself 
 conspicuously to the eye of the stranger — serving to re- 
 mind him how " dangerous a thing" is Literature, 
 when perverted by the presumption of Genius to the* 
 
 N 2 
 
purposes of Impiety! As among the chief wonders 
 of this depot, must be noticed the globes, celestial and 
 terrestrial, by Coronelli, 35 feet in circumference, and 
 12 feet in diameter. In the cabinet of medals and an- 
 tiquities are some objects of great curiosity : such, for in- 
 stance, as the articles found in the tomb of Childeric, in 
 1643 ; the sword of that early Frankish monarch ; and 
 the bees that formed parts of the ornaments of his Royal 
 mantle : in that emblem of industry y as assumed by Na- 
 poleon, we see therefore only the faculty of imitation. 
 Perhaps a wasp would have been the happier choice for 
 the armorials of the Ex-Emperor — a selfish insect^ busy 
 about mischief, is more pointedly emblematic of the 
 " injurious man," who " fed upon sweet hone?/, and 
 and killed the bees that yielded it." — In the compart- 
 ment of Egyptian remains, are some extraordinary pre- 
 servations of mummies, both human and of the Ibis; 
 and a manuscript of hieroglyphics on papyrus. There 
 is a most beautiful collection of antique cameos and 
 seals ; and among the rest, the Ducal seal of Milan. 
 The plate of silver, improperly called the Buckler of 
 Scipio, found in the Rhone, in 1626, is charged with 
 a fine bas relief, of which the true subject is pronounced 
 to be " The restoration of Briseis to Achilles." But 
 one of the most interesting remains of the middle ages 
 deposited here, is a sort of curule chair, in chased 
 and damaskened iron, carved and gilt, known under the 
 name of le fauteuil du Roi Dagobert, and which M. Le 
 JVoir* observes, " may give a perfect idea of the domestic 
 furniture in use under the first and second race ;" the 
 ■workmanship and stile of it are such as to impress one 
 with no mean opinion of the state of the arts in the 
 seventh century. 
 
 * Muske des Mnumens Francois, p. 51. 
 
93 
 
 Leaving the Royal Library, we proceeded to the ex- 
 tremity of the Rue de Richelieu, one of the finest in 
 Paris, (in which are the Opera House and the Theatre 
 Francais) and continued our walk by taking the course 
 of the Boulevards of Montmartre and the Temple, 
 which abound with fine buildings, and are a most amus- 
 ing and agreeable walk ; some parts of them are shaded 
 with a double row on each side of fine trees. Many of 
 the minor spectacles are situated on the Boulevards, and 
 the Caffes, pleasure gardens, and baths offer a perpetual 
 succession of objects, some of them extremely pretty, 
 both in their situation and appointments ; among these 
 the Caffe Turc, de Tort on? ^ and the Bains Chinois, stand 
 foremost in point of luxury and elegance. Pursuing 
 our course towards the Place de la Bastille, we noticed 
 and admired (he majestic proportions of the gates St. 
 Denis and St, Martin, erected by Louis XIV. (on the 
 scite of two of the oldest entrances to old Paris) in com- 
 memoration of his conquests, which still remain to 
 France. — On the esplanade of the Boulevard de Bondi, 
 Buonaparte has erected a fountain much too grand for 
 the out-of-the-way place in which it is (perhaps una* 
 voidably) fixed : it is really a superb basin, and 
 its waters fall with that delightful effect which reminds 
 one of PiranesVs representations of some of the Italian 
 monuments of this description. 
 
 The Place de la Bastille has been considerably en- 
 larged since I visited it before : houses then closely en- 
 compassed the scite of that ancient fortress and cele- 
 brated state prison — never, perhaps, less to be dreaded 
 than at the time when the people of Paris, worked up 
 into frenzy by the agitators of the day, rushed from all 
 points to effect its destruction. Those habitations in 
 
94 
 
 TSOQ still bore the marks of the cannon-shot fired from 
 its towers daring that work of havoc, from which hag 
 most consistently been dated a revolution of blood. 
 They are now all cleared away ; and in front of the grand 
 fosse stands the foundation of a colossal monument 
 which Buonaparte was rearing "to attest to future gene- 
 rations" that u Tide of Victory" which happened to be 
 just then approaching to an ebb. In a wooden building of 
 corresponding bulk we were shewn the model, in plaster, 
 of an elephant, on a most gigantic scale. It was in- 
 tended for a fountain : a huge work, but surely in very 
 indifferent taste. The form of an elephant is that of a 
 Tery ungraceful animal : to represent its form and to 
 increase its magnitude, twenty times beyond the natural 
 size, was only to render its want of symmetry and ele- 
 gance (qualifications not unimportant in sculptural sub- 
 jects) the more conspicuous and disgusting. This, at 
 least, was the effect, in my eyes, of the plaster cast 
 finished to the projected dimensions. In the same 
 building, or work-shop., is a small model of the whole 
 design, according to which there was to have been a 
 vast marble basin, in which a rotunda was to have been 
 been raised, and on the summit of this the elephant was 
 to have stood There were to have been promenades 
 and galleries, (as we were told) for people to have 
 walked under, whilst the long-snouted monster blew 
 forth into the air an ocean of water, which falling 
 would have produced a grand cascade. 
 
 Just as we were quitting the Place de la Bastille, one 
 of the Royal carriages, drawn by six horses, and at- 
 tended by an escort of Dragoons, crossed our path, at 
 an easy pace, and gave us the opportuntiy of seeing the 
 Duchess of Ang?©uleme, who was in it. Her Royal 
 
£5 
 
 Highness possesses much dignity and expression of 
 countenance. It was rather a singular coincidence to 
 -witness such a personage passing such a spot : that 
 scene of " the beginning of sorrows/' traversed by Her 
 who had been made to drink the cup of revolutionary 
 misery to the dregs. What affecting recollections of 
 family misfortunes — what tender regrets for slaughtered 
 friends — what feelings of horror, and may we not add, 
 what excitements to devotion, as the only assuaging 
 balm to the poignant wounds of memory, must it renew 
 in the mind of one who had suffered so long and so well ! 
 Restored at length to her high rank and place ; once 
 more surrounded with the insignia of Royal state, in the 
 land of her ancestors, how must almost every object, in 
 her excursions through this capital, bring back to her 
 remembrance, the transactions which followed that day 
 of shame, that portentous spectacle of insulted greatness, 
 when the illustrious victims to ambitious and treasona- 
 ble factions were paraded by the cannibal mob from 
 Versailles to Paris — this very princess and her brother, 
 the Dauphin, being with the King and Queen, and 
 (to use the words of the eloquent Burke) " insensible^ 
 only through infancy and innocence, of the cruel out- 
 rages to which their parents were exposed." 
 
 We extended our walk into the Faubourg St. An* 
 imri*\ (the St. Giles's of Paris) famous or rather infa- 
 mous during " the reign of terror," for furnishing from 
 its populous quarters the largest quota of the bands of 
 plunderers and assassins, who after pillaging the hotels 
 of the rich, went from prison to prison and slaughtered 
 xhose whom the Jacobin Ministers of Justice had there 
 incarcerated ! Since the abolition of the religious 
 orders, this spacious suburb, and the opposite one of St. 
 
96 
 
 Marcel, has been the seat of great manufacturing indus- 
 try (carried on in the situations of the old convents that 
 abounded there,) in iron founderies, cotton establish* 
 merits, &c. : it still, however, retains its insurrectionary 
 spirit ; and the federes whom Buonaparte, au desespoirj 
 vainly called around him to prop up his last act of 
 usurpation, were drawn chiefly from the numerous body 
 of the lowest class in this part of the town i a precious 
 rabble to keep in pay, more dangerous to their friends 
 than formidable to the enemy, as the event shortly 
 proved. Here, in the Rue de Reuilly, we inspected the 
 great Manufactory of Mirrors, or to speak with more 
 correctness, the vast workshop where looking glasses 
 are polished and silvered ; for the plates are run at St. 
 Gobin^ thirty miles from Paris. Eight hundred work- 
 men, women, and children^ are employed in this esta«* 
 blishment.* Like the still more celebrated Manufac- 
 
 * Le Manufacture des Glaces (as it is called) is interesting to the 
 stranger, chiefly on account of the extraordinary size of the mirrors which 
 are made there. To grind the glass smooth, which is the first operation^ 
 the plates are bedded on tables of marble, constructed on the utmost 
 tiicety of level. Two men stand at opposite sides of this table, drawing 
 and turning about in every possible direction over the glass that is to be 
 ground, another thick rough plate to which is affixed an apparatus of the 
 wheel form, the hob part of which is heavily weighted, and the spoke and 
 rim of which serve for handles to pull it about by. The laborious exer- 
 tions of two men are thus constantly required on the large mirrors, for a 
 month together, in order to give them the requisite smoothness, in effect- 
 ing which water and coarse sand are first poured in between the two bodies 
 in collision, and afterwards a finer sort of sand is used. The next process 
 which is that of polishing, is as laborious as the preceding : it i* performed 
 by drawing backward and forward a kind of cushion pressed on the sur- 
 face of the glass by a wooden spring attached to the ceiling, and which 
 cushion is supplied with an impalpable powder of emery. The qualities 
 of perfect smoothness and of exquisite polish having thus been attained, 
 the next and last operation is that of converting the plates into looking- 
 glasses. A \ery thin paper is laid on the table, covered with a coating 
 
91 
 
 lory df Tapestry, at the Gobelins* and the Porcelaine 
 Manufactory at Sevre, it is a Governmental concern.—* 
 The Parisians, though become more commercial of late 
 years, are still but children in speculations of business, 
 compared with the Londoners : they have yet very im- 
 perfect ideas of what is to be effected in trading con* 
 cerns by the employment of vast capitals United to con- 
 summate skill and judicious management. They have 
 breweries in this quarter. A steam engine is a rarity 
 with them. W hat would they not say, in the way of 
 boasting and self-praise, if they had an establishment 
 like our Barclays' and Whitbreads' ! They have no- 
 thing so extraordinary in point of magnitude, and at the 
 same time so gratifying in point of utility, in the whole 
 list of their curiosities and ingenuities. I had visited 
 the former, previous to my crossing the water, and can- 
 not speak in adequate terms of the wonders, both ani- 
 mate and inanimate, of that stupendous manufactory of 
 Brown Stout. 
 
 of chalk : over that are placed leaver of tin foil ; the whole is surrounded 
 by a wooden frame, having a raised ledge to keep in the quick silver, 
 Which is poured on so as completely and equally to cover the tin foil. 
 The plate is then laid upon this liquid mass Of metal, and loaded with ad 
 immense weight, which causes the greater part of the Mercury to force 
 its way from under the glass, whilst the remainder amalgamates with the 
 tin foil which facilitates its adhesion to the glass. We were shewn mir- 
 rors of all dimensions, from 3 feet to 10 feet in height, and of proportionate 
 width, and from one-eighth of an inch to 3 inches in thickness. The 
 price of one, which measured ten French feet by nine, was 5000 francs 
 or <£208 sterling. The effect of the subtile mineral employed in the 
 foliation is dreadful, producing salivation and its miserable concomitants, 
 notwithstanding every measure of precaution. 
 
 * This Manufactory of Tapestry, so highly prized throughout Europe 
 for the brilliancy of its colours, and the incomparably magnificent and 
 beautiful stile in which it is executed, is carried on in the Faubourg St* 
 Marcel. A visit, made to this establishment in 1802, afforded me & 
 
 O 
 
Returning back to our hotel, we took a peep at the 
 Place Roi/ale, an old square of red brick houses, and of 
 a formal heavy stile ; deserving, however, of considera- 
 tion as one of the many embellishments and improve- 
 ments which that able and active Prince, Henry the 
 Fourth, effected, amidst the alarms of foreigners and 
 the factions of his subjects, for Paris of his day. In 
 lieu of the statue of Louis XHI. destroyed by the 
 anarchists, a fountain has been placed there by Buona- 
 parte, which throws water fifteen feet high from a jet of 
 eight gerbs. The Prussians, whose artillery were last 
 year stationed here, have made fire-wood of all the trees 
 that ornamented this square, and not left a bit of tire 
 green turf to walk on. Continuing our route homewards, 
 we passed through the Marche des Innocens, the great 
 
 very high degree of gratification. The first scene of inspection was a Ion % 
 room, occupied by ranges of looms or* frames : at each of these, one and 
 sometimes two weavers were employed, and behind them hung the de- 
 signs from which they copied. The threads of the warp run in a vertical 
 direction, and the woof is inserted with along wooden needle. It is a 
 work purely of a mechanical nature : the outline being first correctly 
 traced in black chalk on the warp, the artisan, looking back every instant 
 to his design, selects from innumerable little pipes of worstead the re- 
 quisite hue, with the minutest attention to the infinitely various tints 
 necessary to produce the effect of light and shade. This is done with a 
 wonderful, an almost intuitive accuracy ; for the workman himself does 
 not see at the time the result of his labour. The process is extremely tedi- 
 ous and slow t those pieces which we saw, in different stages, though of or- 
 dinary size, would (we were informed) take several years to complete. — 
 After surveying the operative department, we were conducted to a spa- 
 cious gallery of exposition, the walls of which were covered with the 
 choicest specimens of the loom. Among these we beheld many from Lc 
 Brun's historical pieces, several after Rubens, and not a few from the 
 chefs d'eeuvre of Raphael and other masters of the Italian school, all of 
 such magically deceptive resemblance to the pictures of those great 
 artists, as almost required a tangible proof to convince the spectator tha£ 
 the effect was produced by a texture of worsted thread ! 
 
99 
 
 vegetable market, established on the ground which, 
 though surrounded by the most populous part of Paris, 
 had till the year 1785 been a cemetery y exhaling con- 
 tagion, and exhibiting all the hideousness of half-en- 
 tombed corpses. The area is apparently that of 
 Norwich Market-place, but is clogged up by pent 
 houses, like Covent Garden — the appearance, how- 
 ever, is very different from an English market. Here 
 we find ourselves among the Poissardes of Revolution 
 fame, and the Dames de la Halle, of whom we have 
 more lately read, that a choice deputation exercised the 
 ancient privilege of their august body, to present a 
 bouquet of flowers, &c. to Louis le Desire. Amidst 
 the confusion, crowd, dirt, and vulgarity of the place, 
 an object is to be found which is justly dear to taste and 
 to the arts : I mean the Fontaine des Innocens, the 
 chef d'ceuvre of Jean Goujon, and one of the most beau- 
 tiful monuments in Paris. A work of the sixteenth 
 century, it is a paragon of elegance and purity, both in 
 design and sculpture, and has very properly of late 
 years been made the object of reparation and protection. 
 In this situation, however, it reminds one of " the jewel 
 in a swine's snout," worthy as it is to decorate the court 
 of a Royal palace. 
 
 In passing from the Market-place of the Innocents to 
 the Halle au Bles, we turned a little out of the way to 
 take a look at the Rue de la Ferronerie, which reminds 
 us of an historical fact no less important than the assas- 
 sination of Henry IV*. A bust of that great King points 
 out the spot where he was in a moment deprived of life, 
 and France delivered over into the hands of political 
 priests — and priestly politicians— to suffer all the miseries 
 ©f a long minority, and a reign that revived the minis- 
 
 02 
 
100 
 
 ferial domination of ancient times ; when the Makes dji 
 Palais acted as Viceroys over the race of Slothful 
 Kings.* The extreme narrowness of this street at that 
 time contributed, with other unaccountably strange ch> 
 'cumstances, (that almost seem to countenance the appli- 
 cation of the term fatality), to give a sure direction and 
 but too successful result to the murderous aim of 
 jRavail/ac. 
 
 The Halle au Bles, (the Markrlane of Paris) is a 
 well- arranged corn and flour market : its curious cupola 
 of wood (destroyed by fire soon after my visit in 1802) 
 lias just been supplied by an equally excellent piece of 
 workmanship, in the same form, but less accessible to 
 the etFects of fire, being constructed of cast iron bars, 
 covered with plates of copper. The cqrn is not bought 
 sand sold by sample, but the Halle au Bles of Paris, 
 like the rest in France and Flanders, is what in Eng- 
 land is called a " Pitch Market" 
 
 We next took a cursory view of the exterior and in- 
 terior of the parochial church of St. Eustache. The 
 grand pprtal, which was begun in 1754, remains in aji 
 imperfect state : it is on a very enlarged scale, but heayy 
 in design. As to the interior construction and embel- 
 lishment of this building, it is precisely what the zealous 
 admirer of the early ecclesiastical architecture, and the 
 equally fastidious advocate for Grecian purity and 
 symmetry, would call disproportionecl and fantastical. 
 Its appearance is strongly characteristic of the age in 
 which it was erected, viz. that of Francis I. In fact, it 
 is the massive and lofty form of the Gothic ornamented 
 after the antique details of decoration : it was an age iji 
 which learning had commenced its struggle against ignq* 
 
 # Les Rois Faineans. 
 
101 
 
 ranee ; in which taste was contending with prejudice ; 
 and of which the monuments, therefore, ought to be 
 looked on with an eye indulgent to whatever may be 
 found irregular in their stile, and regardful chiefly of 
 their grandeur and richness. Before the revolution, 
 this church, which has been greatly restored and beau- 
 tified, possessed the tomb of the great minister Colbert, 
 and several other elegant mausoleums, busts, and sculp- 
 tured epitaphs of French statesmei* and warriors ; men 
 of genius and wit ; patrons and professors of the fine 
 arts. These remembrances of departed worthies still 
 exist : but where ? in the Halls of the Pelits Augustins ! 
 on a system of retention that would surely be " more 
 honoured in the breach than the continuance it is the 
 mark of a vitiated taste, to say no more of it, thus to 
 keep disunited — objects which respect and piety had 
 religiously joined together. 
 
 Bringing our perambulation to an end, near the Rue 
 Vivienne, we noticed a large building, rearing its stately 
 proportions through the scaffolding by which it was 
 encompassed. We inquired its intended appropriation ; 
 and we learnt, that it had been destined by Buonaparte 
 for the Bourse or Exchange, with feelings somewhat akin 
 to those which Swift is related to have expressed, when 
 he made the construction of a public depot for ammuni- 
 tion in Dublin, a subject for the following epigram : — • 
 
 " Behold a proof of Irish sense, 
 
 " Here Irish Wit is seen— 
 u Where nothing's left that's worth defence 
 
 " They build— a Magazine." 
 
 When Napoleon, in his mad ambition to ruin La Nation 
 Boutiquiere, had lost " ships, colonies, and commerce;" 
 when he had stopped the course of industry and crushed 
 the merchant— he erects an Imperial Exchange ! 
 
102 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Paris— Fourth Perambulation — The Cite— Church of Si. 
 Germain V Auxerrois~Pont Neuf— Vigier's Baths — Palais 
 de Justice — Cathedral of Notre Dame — -Preparations for 
 a Royal Fete — Hotel Dieu — Socurs de la Charite — Place 
 de Greve and Hotel de Ville — Reflections on the French 
 Revolution* 
 
 May 25th. 
 
 We dedicated this day principally to a walk through 
 the most ancient part of Paris— the Isle de la Cite or 
 du Palais j as it is called at the present day. The Lit' 
 tetia of the Caesars, inhabited by the Nautce Parisian, 
 the Parisian commercial navigators, who worshipped 
 " Jupiter the most high and the most good." * It is a 
 very dirty, close, and in regard to residence a very 
 uncomfortable quarter of the capital; but abounding 
 with objects of antiquarian and historical interest.—- 
 Amongst its public and domestic edifices, and even in 
 the costume and manners of the inhabitants, we find 
 traces more or less palpable of the state of the arts, and 
 of the taste and acquirements of the people, in times 
 long antecedent to the present. 
 
 # In the Museum of French Monuments (see Lenoir's Catalogue) are 
 four stone altars, erected to Jupiter, in the reign of Tiberius, which were 
 discovered, in 1711, beneath the pavement of Notre Dame* One of 
 these is charged with the following inscription : 
 
 TIB. CAESARE 
 
 AUG. JOVI OPTVMO 
 
 MAXSVMO (ara) M 
 
 NAVTAE PARIS1ACI 
 
 PVBLICE POSlEfcVNT. 
 
103 
 
 Irt our way, we did not omit to visit the Church ot 
 St. Germain V Auxerrois, which is considered to offer 
 a fine specimen of the open portico, in its western facade f 
 said to have been rebuilt in 1438 ; but, without dispa^ 
 raging the French sample, I can safely affirm, that we- 
 have in England one both older and more splendid — j 
 viz. that of Peterborough Cathedral. The interior of 
 this church exhibits, particularly at its east end, many 
 evidences of its early foundation. Being the parish 
 church to the Louvre, it has been the burial place of 
 numerous celebrated men, of whose monuments none 
 now remain. Some have been totally destroyed ; and 
 others are kept in that Grand Repository, the Monu- 
 mental Museum. But surely the names of persons so il- 
 lustrious should still be identified with the places where 
 their once honoured ashes reposed ? Dacier, Coypel, 
 Coysevox, and a multitude of other ornaments to Lite- 
 rature, Science, and the Arts, would still of themselves 
 form a tablet of inscription most eloquent and most im- 
 pressive ! But the name of St. Germain VAuxerrois^ 
 and its connection with the history and situation of the 
 Louvre, (to the collonade of which palace it forms an 
 opposite object of but very inferior importance), remind 
 us of bloody tragedies — of an action so barbarous, so 
 execrable, that the French historian has said of it, " it 
 never had, and I trust in God it never will have, its 
 like." If, however, Perefixe had lived at the conclu- 
 sion of the 18th century, he would have found it equally 
 difficult to vindicate the character of his nation, from 
 the charge of cruelty, in the immolations of the Sep- 
 tembrisers to the sanguinary Goddess of Liberty— he 
 would then have found the Parisian populace acting 
 tvith the same tiger-like spirit of ferocity, as at the pe- 
 
104 
 
 fiod of the dreadful massacre of St. Bartholomew, when 
 the ringing of the bells in this sacred temple, was the? 
 signal for beginning the slaughter. The quarter of the 
 Old Louvre facing the river is still pointed out, where 
 that female monster of wickedness and dissimulation, 
 Catherine de Medicis, contemplated the scene of detest- 
 able butchery ; and where the Crowned Leader of the 
 cut-throats, Charles the Ninth, (worse even than Nero, 
 who fiddled whilst Rome was burning), stationed him- 
 self, during the massacre, with a carbine in his hand, 
 which he fired upon the Huguenots, exclaiming, kill! 
 Jail! 
 
 u Que dis je ! 6 crime ! 6 hotite ! 6 comble des maux ! 
 * 4 Le roi, le roi lui meme, aii milieu des bourreaux, 
 44 Poursuivant des presents les troupes egarees, 
 " Du sang de ses sujets soujllait ses mains sacrees !" 
 
 Henriade, 
 
 From thence we continued our course to the find 
 bridge, so well known by its appellation of the Pont 
 Neuf, a structure both of utility and ornament, which was 
 not thrown over the Seine till more than SO years after 
 the execution of those deeds of horror above alluded to 
 — the lamentable consequences of civil dissentions, and 
 of religious bigotry and intolerance. Since the King's 
 restoration, a new statue of Henry the Fourth, on 
 horseback, modelled in plaster, has, temporarily at 
 least, replaced that of marble, destroyed by the same 
 constant and steady people who, a little while before, 
 in the incipient movements of licentiousness — misnamed 
 freedom — infested this bridge with loyal clamours, and 
 obliged every passenger to bow to the image of a Mo- 
 narch, who had said— " If God grants me life, I will 
 bring it to pass that there shall not be a labourer in my 
 
105 
 
 kingdom, wfio may not possess the me&nS of having a 
 chicken in his pot." * It was just then that (as Mr. 
 Burke observes) " the childish affectation prevailed of 
 idolizing the memory of Henry the Fourth." " The 
 persons (he truly adds) who worked that engine the 
 most busily, were those who ended their panegyrics in 
 dethroning [and murdering^ his successor and descen- 
 dant : a ritaii as good natured, at least, as Henry the 
 Fourth ; altogether as fond of his people ; and who did 
 infinitely more to correct the ancient vices of the State 
 than that great Monarch did, or ever meant to do." 
 
 At one of Vtgier's floating machines, stationed against 
 & central pier of this bridge', we took the luxury of a 
 warm bath. The boat on which the ranges of apartments 
 aire built is as long as the keel of a moderate sized fri- 
 gate : it is constructed with two stories, with galleries; 
 and the communication from the parapet of the bridge 
 is by a staircase of wood. The establishment is divided 
 into two distinct compartments : one for the use of the 
 Men and the other appropriated to the women. Nothing 
 can surpass the cleanliness, convenience, and decency, 
 with which the business is conducted : — Each person has 
 a separate cabinet ; the bath is cleaned and filled before 
 his face ; and the price is 30 sous a bath —but this does 
 not include a supply of towels, &e. which must be paid 
 for extra. There are two turn-cocks in each batbj 
 giving an ample supply both of hot and cold water, and 
 the bather mixes them to his own temperature. The 
 parterre before the galleries is ornamented with orange 
 trees, flowers, and shrubs. The water is conveyed to 
 the different bathing rooms by means of a large reservoir 
 
 * u Si Dieu me donne ia vie, je ferai qu'il n'y aura point de laboureuT 
 en men rojaumequi n'ait naoyen d'avoir une pottle dans son pot." 
 
 P 
 
106 
 
 and forcing P m "°P? placed in an adjoining Boat and 
 worked by a horse. In this vessel there cannot be less 
 than a hundred bathing rooms. The people are ex* 
 tremely civil and attentive ; extending their services ta 
 the furnishing of erery comfort and refreshment, even 
 to a supply of lemonade, breakfasts, &c. if required. 
 The influx of bathers in the summer season is perpe- 
 tual, from morning till evening — and on a Sunday 
 morning these baths are all engaged, ten deep, by per- 
 sons of both sexes. We used to frequent this establish- 
 ment the oftenest, on account of its proximity to our 
 Hotel ; but there is another belonging to the same pro- 
 prietor, opposite the Thuilleries, which is on a larger 
 scale, and fitted up in a very superb manner. 
 
 Passing through the Place Dauphine, a triangular 
 enclosure of old fashioned buildings, in the midst of 
 which stands a column to the memory of Gen. Dessaix, 
 we continued our progress through a labyrinth of nar- 
 row filthy passages, called Streets, the gloomy influence 
 of which is relieved by a feeling of agreeable surprise 
 at the view of the dignified, though somewhat heavy 
 elevation of the Palais de Justice, the grand escalier 
 of which we ascended, and found ourselves in their 
 "Westminster Hall. This spacious place, which they 
 call La salle des pas perdus, was built in the early part 
 of the 17th century ; it is a handsome hall, and displays 
 much ingenuity of construction, but has neither the 
 magnitude nor the baldness of the famous Gothic room 
 , pf our William Rufus. It has been cleared of the book- 
 stalls which formerly used to encumber the pillars of the 
 arcades : driven from their old asylum in this great 
 apartment where, according to its sarcastic appellation^ 
 people follow Justice and have their zoalk for (hew 
 
107 
 
 pains, the tribes of marchands h ive now taken up their 
 ground in the avenues. The tribunals of every kind 
 are concentrated here. The Court of Cassation holds 
 its sittings in the ancient Chamber of the Parliament. 
 The lawyers wear a gown similar to that of English ba- 
 risters; but instead of the disguising formality of tail 
 wigs, they wear their hair long and flowing down their 
 back, surmounted by a square black cap, like a 
 Canon's — the appearance is far preferable. The Great 
 Officers are dressed in black robes : the court of Cassation 
 is presided over by three learned Judges of the Law ; 
 and its province is to decide upon and give final judge- 
 ment of cases, the merits of which have been previously 
 investigated at the Court of Assize, but the decision 
 appealed against. The pleadings are made with great 
 energy and apparent warmth, and the arguments en- 
 forced with pretty frequent percussions of the hand on 
 the table. In the Court of Assize, and the Cour Royal 9 
 there are Juries ; but the course of judicial proceedings 
 is very different from those of an English Court of 
 J ustice. Here the rule, that no man should be made to 
 answer questions to his own crimination, is completely 
 transgressed by the mode of interrogating, which in- 
 deed commences even before arraignment. Equally 
 disregarded is our maxim that the wholesome 
 ordinary course of Law requires no aid from mili- 
 tary presence and protection : — Soldiers here con- 
 tinue, as in Buonaparte's day, " and in the old time 
 before him" to guard the entrances ; and a, gens d i arme$ 9 
 sword in hand, sits by the side of each prisoner. A 
 beautiful relic of the ancient building, belonging to this 
 place, when, as its name imports, it was the Palace of 
 ths Kings of France, remains in the Sainte Chapelle i 
 
 P 2 
 
108 
 
 the upper story of the portal presents a most elaborate 
 ^nd delicate example of florid architecture. 
 
 Pursuing our perambulation, thje majestic west front of 
 the ancient Cathedral of Notre Dame next commanded 
 our attention. In the plan of this truly grand facade 
 is displayed so much of that unity of disposition and 
 regularity of form which distinguish the stile and genius 
 of Greece and Rome, that the most fastidious eye may 
 dwell on it with unalloyed satisfaction It is its sublime 
 yet elegant character which gives this portal so striking 
 an effect, notwithstanding the losses and degradations it 
 lias sustained. The multitude of statues that were 
 ranged in its galleries and gates, have nearly all been 
 pulled down, or miserably defaced, [because they repre- > 
 sented the persons of Kings and Saints) by the enlight- 
 ened planters of Trees of Liberty.* 
 
 On entering this magnificent place of divine worship, 
 •we found it filled with workmen, making arrangements 
 for celebrating, with all due pomp and eclat, the cere- 
 monial of the apprQachipg marriage of the Duke of 
 Jierri. Yes, the vaulted roof of this vast fabric re- 
 sounded to the noise of the saw, the adze, and the ham- 
 mer ; and its superb nave and spacious aisles were 
 blocked up with planks and other impediments to the 
 gratification of a stranger's curiosity. So much for the 
 preparations of a fete, which is certainly one of the chief 
 
 * One of these, T remember, adorned the Parvis, or great quadrangle 
 before this Cathedral. The tree generally used for this regenerative 
 purpose was apoplar ( Le peuplier) and the French, (of whom it is observed 
 by an author of their own nation, that they have a propensity to turn the 
 most dreadful events, and the greatest public evils, into subjects of 
 ealcmbourg and pleasantry) used to characterise this hopeful plant, under 
 whose sheltering branches the guillotine and the bayonet flourished, by 
 the equivoque of le Pcuple lie, (the people bound). 
 
109 
 
 things needful" to keep the Parisians in good humour 
 with their Government, let who will or may be at the 
 head of it. It is as indispensible a point of policy with 
 their rulers, as the panis et ciircehses, that served to feed 
 and amuse the degenerate Romans. The badauds 
 around us appeared impressed with as pleasurable an 
 anticipation of the royal nuptials of two branches of 
 the House of Bourbon, as they most likely felt at the 
 festivities of Buonaparte's consecration as Emperor, by 
 the Pope, in this very Cathedral ; and again at his mar- 
 riage with the Austrian Emperor's daughter, when, poor 
 Josephine being thrown in the back ground, " Vive 
 Napoleon et Marie Louise" was the order of the day. 
 The consequence, however, of these successive solemni- 
 ties has been to restore the inside of Notre Dame to 
 almost its former renowned degree of splendour. In 
 some respects I should apprehend, it has undergone con- 
 siderable improvement : the pictorial decorations, if not 
 so intrinsically valuable, are disposed in a way less in- 
 terceptive of the architectural beauties : indeed, the 
 marble pavements, and curious mosaic of the choir and 
 sanctuary ; the superbly gilt chandeliers and eagles-— 
 and the extraordinarily fine carving and sculpture in 
 the choir and Lady's Chapel, present an assemblage of 
 embellishment worthy of the Metropolitan Church of 
 France. 
 
 On the north side of the Par vis de Notre Dame 
 stands the very ancient hospital for the sick, called the 
 Hotel Dieu : it is distinguished by a portal of recent 
 date, in a studiously simple and unornamented stile, not 
 vert/ much in unison with the surrounding buildings. — • 
 We did not seek admittance into this ancient and vene- 
 rable institution for the relief of human misfortunes and 
 
110 
 
 infirmities. Something like a prejudice operated to 
 deter me from indulging my curiosity by an inspec- 
 tion of its interior, arising from former accounts of bad 
 management and want of proper attention to the re- 
 quisites of air and cleanliness ; from what I have since 
 heard, I believe these defects no longer exist, but that 
 this and other establishments of the same humane de- 
 scription are most respectably, ably, and efficiently 
 conducted. There is a religious society of females; a 
 solitary relic of the conventual orders, known under the 
 appellation of Les Sa?urs de la Charite, (similar to the 
 Beguines of Austrian and French Flanders) who are unre- 
 mittingly assiduous in their benevolent attendance on 
 the unfortunate- tenants of these abodes of mortal suffer- 
 ing. It appears that these Sisters" are every way de^ 
 serving of their honourable, most amiable, and truly 
 Christian designation : at the threshold of want, at the 
 bed of sickness, they act the part of almoners and com- 
 forters ; and, like their Divine Master to whose service 
 they have dedicated themselves, and whose attribute 
 of love they seek to personify on earth, it is equally 
 their vow of obligation, and their tenour of practice to 
 u go about every where doing good !" 
 
 On our way back, still threading the intricate maze 
 of squeezed-up passages, and of bridges* on which you 
 no sooner set foot than you find yourself across the river^ 
 we entered the Place de Greve, where the Hotel de 
 Vdle, or town-house, (or, as in London, we should call 
 it the Mansion-house) is situated. It is the seat of the 
 Municipality, and is one of those buildings in which we 
 recognize the progress of transition from the Gothic to 
 the Grecian : but neither in the scale of the edifice, nor 
 * jLe Pont Notre Dame, le Petit Pont } le Pont de la Tvurnelle, $c. 
 
Ill 
 
 in the proportions of the place before it, do we find any 
 Hiing that sufficiently corresponds with pre-conceivcd 
 ideas of civic wealth and dignity, as they ought to dis- 
 play themselves in a great capital. All the avenues ta 
 it partake of the same contracted dimensions and in- 
 convenient direction, that prevail in other parts of what 
 is called La Cite^ and which, far from participating in a 
 due share of those more or less realized plans of im- 
 provement and decoration on which such immense sums 
 have been expended, presents an almost uniform aspect 
 of being a century behind the present age. 
 
 The lately replaced statue of Henry IV. over the 
 middle entrance of the gateway, reminded us of the 
 ravages which the Hotel de Ville sustained during the 
 Revolution, and of the assassination of Flesselks on the 
 steps of the door below it : and the lamp hon, that still 
 remains fixed up against a corner shop, on the opposite 
 side of the square, recalls the fate of Foulon; together 
 with all the other deeds of cruelty and massacre which 
 that detestable convulsion caused to be perpetrated near 
 the same spot. The Hotel de Ville and the Place de 
 Grtve are indeed objects which, though they can boast 
 of little else that is attractive, yet possess a fund but 
 too copious of moral interest. A theatre, on which the 
 character of the French has been exposed in all its va- 
 ried and contrasted features, what remembrances and 
 what reflections was it not calculated to excite, even in 
 thus passing over it. At one time the scene of festive 
 triumph, re-echoing to the shouts of loyalty , m welcom- 
 ing the visit of a patriot King : yet a little while, and 
 it is filled with a crowded assemblage of the same 
 people, become insurrectionary and rebellious ; its 
 pavement reeking with the gore of dismembered wretches* 
 fallen under the blows of mid-day murderers. Now 
 
in 
 
 graced tvith the splendid cortege of an idolized Sore* 
 reign, and the acclaim of Vive le Roi quivering on 
 every tongue : now paraded by a troop of savages, 
 howling the dreadful cry of Les Aristocrates a la lan* 
 terne, and bearing on a pike's point the livid head of 
 some untried, unheard victim to the Justice of the 
 People ! O may Divine Providence, who hath hitherto 
 so conspicuously interposed, to prevent our own beloved 
 country from becoming a prey to such indescribable^ 
 such unparralleled calamities— may Providence instil 
 into the hearts of u all ranks and conditions of men" 
 in it, a forcible and just sense of the duties and rights 
 that belong to their respective stations : and, in all the 
 vicissitudes of prosperity and distress, to which as a 
 Commonwealth we are necessarily exposed, may these 
 two most important lessons, taught us in the awful ex- 
 ample of France, have practical effect upon the conduct 
 both of our Rulers and ourselves. First — that no dan- 
 ger, which can impend over a nation, is more to be 
 dreaded than the too long deferred redress of real 
 public grievances ; for then the best intentions — the wisest 
 measures seldom succeed in conciliating the shaken affec- 
 tions and attachments of the people. And, secondly ,that 
 to the people themselves, no case is so utterly hopeless of 
 a good result, as when they blindly and profligately lend 
 their minds and strength to the violent, the impious pro- 
 ceedings of men who, devoid of religion and virtue, un- 
 influenced by moderation or honour, appeal only to 
 the basest of human passions for the vilest of purposes ; 
 and who use the lower classes of the community as 
 stepping stones to ambition and power — only to trample 
 on them with greater contempt and severity, when that 
 ambition has been gratified, and that power attained 1 
 
CHAP. X. 
 
 Excursion to Versailles — Public Carriages — Streets of 
 Paris, dangerous for foot passengers— 'Communicativeness 
 of the ParisianS^-The Bois de Boulogne — Place of en- 
 campment of the British troops — Bridge of St. Cloud—* 
 Hatred of the French to the Prussians — Town of Ver- 
 sailles — Ciceroni — Buonaparte's Federes— Former and 
 present state of Versailles— Trianon — Gardens— Baths of 
 Apollo — Orangery — Grand Terrace — Interior of the 
 Palace — Gallerie du Roi— -Remarks on the character and 
 policy of Louis XIV. 
 
 JL HIS lovely morning a trip into the country would be 
 delightful. Where shall we go ? To Versailles. It 
 3$ agreed ; and " resolved in due splendour to make our 
 approach/' we order " our own hackney" cabriolet to 
 the gate. Cabriolets of this sort are respectable accom- 
 modations, and having a leathern hood to them, are 
 rather an improvement upon gigs, for travelling under 
 a summer sur* through a soil of chalk dust ; the one 
 melting and the other blinding you. But the said 
 hoods, being immoveable, would not answer quite so 
 well in London, where the " kiddy, rum, and queer 17 
 sons of the whip, from the Herculean drayman, with 
 his gigantic team, to the knowing hand, who spanks 
 along his four bits of blood, are in mischievous combi- 
 nation to " run their rigs on all that they come near. 19 
 These Parisian one-horse chaises hold two people and 
 the driver conveniently enough ; but they may also be 
 hired without a conductor. They are numbered both 
 
 May 26th. 
 
114 
 
 inside and out, and carry a single lamp, which must 
 always be lighted at dusk. The horses which they 
 drive in them are generally of very good appearance, 
 and travel well. With respect to fares, they are sub- 
 ject to the same regulations as the fiacres, (hackney- 
 coaches) which are not quite so numerous as m London, 
 but are infinitely better appointed in every respect. 
 Thirty sous (15d.) is charged for le cours^ or to go from 
 one end of the city to the other ; every time a stop is 
 madey the charge is by the hour * and if you go beyond 
 the Barriere, it then becomes an affair of negociation 
 {gre a gre) between parties. 
 
 Drivers of public carriages are forbidden by a law of 
 the police, to go through the streets of Paris at any 
 quicker pace than a trot : but that, (it should seem) is 
 'quite quick enough to put foot passengers in perpetual 
 jeopardy. What, indeed, can be more dangerous than 
 Barrow streets, without side pavement, &nd with horses 
 and carriages rushing along as close to the wall as the 
 Tiders or drivers are pleased to make them go ? The 
 cry of gare i gare, thrills through the ear of the pedes- 
 trian ; startled at the warning voice, he looks sharp 
 round, and sees peril at his heels : it is a word and 
 almost a blow : besides, a hundred to one, that in skip* 
 ping out of the way of this cabriolet, he hops into the 
 track of that jiacre. 66 Incidit in Sc2/Uam f cupiens vi* 
 tare Charybdim" And you know, my dear Sir, one 
 may as well be killed as frightened to death ! Wel% 
 'tis no use grumbling and growling: all will be right 
 in our streets of Paris, when we get a trottoir; which 
 •will be when the inhabitants cease to be dirty in their 
 houses — which will be when they learn to be fond of 
 their homes, to hate/#e$ champetres f and go. gravely 
 
115 
 
 to church, which will be — Ah ! God knows when ! And 
 so — Allons nous en, vite, vite, Mons. Le Conducteur. 
 
 Monsieur le Conducteur took the road that leads 
 through the Bois de Boulogne. This he did, he said, 
 that we might see the ground where the British Army 
 were encamped last summer. Would an English coachey 
 (ceteris paribus) have spontaneously undertaken to 
 travel a single yard out of his way, for any such a rea- 
 son ? Certainly, there was more of civility than of na- 
 tionality in the act. We had heard a great deal in 
 England about the excitability and irritability of the 
 Parisian character, in public concerns ; and how the 
 feelings of the whole people had been outraged into 
 madness on this last occasion. Perhaps these red-hot 
 assertions were founded on facts greatly exaggerated 
 and distorted. It is no easy matter to graduate the 
 scale of patriotism and enthusiasm in a people who are 
 " all things by turns, and nothing long" The love of 
 talk predominating even over the love of country, may 
 operate probably in making them communicative 
 upon subjects associated with the tenderest circum- 
 stances of public disaster. Be this as it may, we never 
 found our conducteurs either surly or sulky on such 
 topics. We had in these little excursions Bonapartists r 
 Bourbonists, and Patriotes, in alternate succession; 
 yet none were deficient in their province of Ciceroni, 
 through delicate reluctance to touch the sore places of 
 political or military humiliation. With apparent equa- 
 nimity, they would reply to all questions that came 
 within the sphere of their superficial intelligence ta 
 resolve, whether such interrogatories related to " the; 
 Emperor" or to " the King " and would be alike ready 
 to point out a monument of public glory, and the 6m~ 
 
 Q2 
 
116 
 
 placement of a Prussian bivouac — a trophy of the vic- 
 tories of France, and the evidences of her misfortunes 
 as a conquered nation ! 
 
 The wood of Boulogne is a Royal chase^ intersected, 
 like the forest of St. Germain, with carriage ways, and 
 footpaths, branching from various centres, and forming 
 the favourite ride of the Parisian fashionables. That 
 part of it which was occiipied by our troops is marked 
 by a total destruction both ©f trees and underwood : our 
 soldiers formed their huts and barracks of the timber, 
 and the remainder served for firewood. From Passy to 
 the village of Boulogne, the whole spot is cleared of its 
 leavy covering, save one poor solitary beech, which our 
 driver designated as the usual rendezvous de ckasse, 
 at the Ex-Emperor's hunting parties. Our brave fellows 
 having left behind them a Wellington tree on the plateau 
 of Mont St. Jean, might thin^ perhaps that they could 
 do no less than preserve the Buonaparte tree, in the 
 Bois de Boulogne. Certain it is, they both stand, each 
 in its respective position, as memorials of the victor 
 and the vanquished. 
 
 We asked our Frenchman several questions, respect- 
 ing the conduct of our troops, during the time they 
 were quartered here. We even affected to suppose they 
 had been guilty of great excesses and disorders ; and 
 instanced the altered scene before us, as a presumptive 
 proof of their irregular habits. No, he answered, the 
 English behaved as well as soldiers could behave; better 
 than most soldiers do behave. What they had de* 
 stroyed here was for necessary purposes : there was no 
 help for it : but, continued he, they treated no one ill, 
 and paid for every thing they took from the inhabitants. 
 Enough, enough, (thought I) let us then no longer he- 
 
117 
 
 sitate to indulge the proud emotions with which out 
 bosoms glow, in passing over ground which has been 
 rendered illustrious, as the seat of repose to a British 
 army, after the full consummation of its matchless 
 achievements. The triumph of arms is truly glorious, 
 only when the olive leaf appears in the same wreath 
 with the laurel. Heroic countrymen, this meed of two- 
 fold and transcendant merit is your own. Victory 
 led you hither to reclaim the faith of treaties broken 
 by perfidy and violence; and Peace found you faith- 
 ful to her cause. Yes, History will record to an ad- 
 miring and appreciating posterity that the skill and 
 valour which confirmed your fame as warriors, were 
 equalled by the honour and the humanity which dig* 
 nified your conduct as men ! 
 
 The little hamlet of Boulogne is agreeably situated, 
 and contains many handsome residences. From thence 
 the road runs through a fine level, bounded by the 
 Seine, on the further bank of which rise the heights of 
 St. Cloud. The approach is pleasant and striking, and 
 ©tFers another memento of the late campaign, the bridge 
 having had its two centre arches blown up to retard 
 the march of the Prussians for half a day. We cross 
 the gap made by the explosion on a strong pontoon 
 frame of wood; in rumbling over which the Parisians 
 are happily put in mind of those brigands, as they call 
 the army of Old Blucher, and they bestow vollies of 
 sacres on their absent friends, with all the bluster of 
 conscious impunity. u Banditti" and u Thieves" are 
 the mildest epithets which are bestowed on the Prus- 
 sians by the French. They hate them — cruelly, mor- 
 tally, irreconcilably hate them, not less as they have 
 iajured, than as they have been injured by thenu J3n- 
 
118 
 
 gundage indeed ! why the Prussians may say to the 
 French, " we thank ye much for teaching us that trade, 
 and but for an interposition, which you are neither 
 deserving of, nor grateful for, it should have gone hard 
 hut we had bettered the instruction ." More than once 
 have I ventured to interrupt a Parisian, as he was run- 
 ning on in abuse of our Wellington's noble companion 
 in arms, by asking what he thought was the difference 
 between the quantum of oppression, extortion, and 
 barbarity exercised by the Prussian troops in France, 
 and that of which the French were guilty during their 
 previous occupation of the Prussian States ? " Com* 
 parisons are odourous" and facts unsuited to 66 the hu- 
 mour'' of these chatterers; and besides, if answers were 
 " as plenty as blackberries," none were to be had " on 
 compulsion." I will tell you (said I, to one more 
 rational and practicable than the generality of his 
 compairiotes ) : the measure of their retaliation on your 
 aggressive injuries, is (I conceive) as the pressure of 
 my little finger to the weight of a giant's arm ! 
 
 Of Saint Cloud, I shall have occasion hereafter to 
 speak more particularly, as the exclusive object of 
 another visit. Suffice it, therefore, at present to say, 
 that we enjoyed our ride through its park, and the 
 adjoining forest of Avri/, the termination of which 
 brought us in sight of Versailles. The Chateau elevates 
 its glittering pavillions high above the surrounding 
 edifices-^a sort of imperium in imperio. The width 
 and straitness of the road, lined with double rows of 
 noble timber trees, and studded, as we get nearer, with 
 the portes cochtres of fine old hotels, announce the con- 
 sequence of the place we are about to enter : and as we^ 
 traversed its handsome Boulevards and spacious well- 
 
paved streets, regularly pierced, and adorned witk 
 buildings of heavy yet sumptuous architecture, the 
 pervading air of deserted grandeur inspired a reflection 
 on the changes that await the highest glories of a 
 mortal's creation. 
 
 At places of this sort we must fully make up our 
 minds to be teazed and imposed upon. The " ragged 
 regiment" for instance, which furnishes walking guides 
 aux etrangers, is so numerous and importunate a body, 
 that to out-manoeuvre their tactique of assailing you in 
 succession, the best way is to accept the first that offers. 
 Acting on this principle, with one of these gentry we 
 instantly proceeded from the Hotel de Rimboult, and 
 commenced our tour de promenade* 
 
 On the way, our guide seemed to think it no derelic- 
 tion of his professional duty towards us, to launch out 
 into a strain of mouth loyalty to the King. Sup- 
 posing this anti-revolutionary tirade to have been sin- 
 cere^ the mystery of such sentiments existing in this 
 man's mind was not difficult to develope. Buonaparte, 
 as he stated, neglected Versailles, the seat of the Bour- 
 bons, whom the towns-people now hope to see once 
 more residents among them. It seems, that during the 
 hundred days' interregnum, (as the Royalists call it) the 
 armed federes, that resurrection of Jacobin scum, threat- 
 ened to renew their former ravages here ; but the in- 
 habitants were on their guard, and prevented it. The 
 mischief which these degraded objects of Buonaparte'* 
 last coquetry did in the neighbourhood of Paris, as 
 well by their ridiculous gasconades as by their indis- 
 criminate depredations, was from all accounts very 
 considerable. A party of fifty of these marauding 
 patriotes pretended to defend the bridge of St. Germain 
 
120 
 
 against 3000 Prussian cavalry ! Fortunately the A 11 fed 
 General was a sensible and humane man, or the whole 
 town would have suffered in the conflict with these des- 
 peradoes. The employment of such vile instruments 
 stands, in my mind, among the numerous proofs, that 
 Napoleon's regard for France was always secondary to 
 his love for himself. 
 
 To those who remember Versailles before the Itevolu* 
 lion, it now can offer but the shadow of its former 
 splendour. No longer the residence of a brilliant and 
 luxurious Court — no longer " the glass of fashion" to 
 regulate, by etiquette, the costume and manners of a; 
 gay and frivolous people, it may be compared to 
 the human form to which the statuary's genius has 
 given all the semblances of life, without being able to 
 communicate the vivifying soul : it wants, indeed, 
 to be retouched with (what it can never have again) a 
 spark of that u Promethean heat such as it received 
 from the presiding spirit of its magnificent founder, 
 when, in the fascinating but false taste, which flattery 
 inspires in a proud mind, he here sat down surrounded 
 with all the eclat of earthly majesty, and rejoiced in the 
 vain, the transient victory, which Art and Talent, en- 
 listed on his side, had gained over opposing Nature. 
 
 To me, however, who had visited this celebrated 
 Palace thirteen years after its royal inhabitants had 
 been dragged away by the " many-headed monster/ 7 to 
 suffer insult, and cruelty, imprisonment, and death : and 
 while as yet the brutal hands of modern Vandalism re- 
 mained impressed on its defaced walls and forsakea 
 groves, to me it appeared now, like a Phoenix risea 
 from its ashes. The Grand Chateau, as well as the 
 Trianons, has been repaired and beautified both in its 
 
121 
 
 interior and exterior ; and the chefs d y ceuvre of archi- 
 tecture, sculpture, and painting present themselves in 
 almost their pristine freshness and perfection. The 
 groups, statues, termini, and vases, which adorn the vari- 
 ous bosquets, walks, parterres, and terraces, combine in 
 offering a rich and almost inexhaustible treat to the 
 lovers of the arts of design, as well in subjects of the 
 antique, and after the antique, as in original specimens 
 of the modern school. And though the casual visitor 
 is seldom favoured with a sight of the water works in 
 actual play , yet next to such a piece of good fortune is 
 the gratification which is always to be derived from an 
 attentive inspection of the basins, fountains, and baths, 
 in the construction and diversification of which (inde- 
 pendently of the management of their gerbes and jettes 
 dardans of which the operations are magical) one knows 
 not which is most to* be admired, whether the extraor- 
 dinary fertility of invention, or the bold, noble, and 
 masterly stile of embellishment and execution, displayed 
 in them all. 
 
 The gardens are restored to an equal state of arrange- 
 ment and neatness; and, as far as practicable, the for- 
 mality of their original design has, in some cases, con- 
 ceded to assume the easier air and more graceful features 
 which characterize the horticulture of the present day. 
 Still however, the instances of decided uniformity are 
 so prevalent, that the eye becomes tired with the same- 
 ness of effect ; and the sensations of pleasurable surprize 
 evaporate amidst the fatigue produced by an endless 
 repetition of natural objects displayed in studied and 
 constrained forms. The lines of the Poet forcibly recur 
 to our minds, and we acknowledge the justice of the 
 satire on that faculty of elaborate constraint and mota* 
 
 R 
 
122 
 
 morphosis, by whose instrumentality, as here so pfe^ 
 eminently exemplified — 
 
 " Grove nods at grove, each alley hath its brother, 
 " And every platform but reflects the other." 
 
 A particular detail even of what is comprehended i& 
 the usual rouM 6f inspection at Versailles^ is not less 
 out of my plan than it would be out of my power t& 
 give. Whole volumes have been written and engraved 
 to explain and to illustrate the beauties, the riches, the* 
 wonders of this realm of art ; and whole weeks would 
 pass away in the examination of them with the eye of 
 the artist and the connoisseur. As the aim, however, 
 of this amplified transcript of my notes is to amuse those 
 who have not themselves £een the subjects of them, 1 
 shall proceed to enumerate the principal objects included 
 in our walk, which commenced by crossing the inclo« 
 sure of the park, and directing our course to Trianon, 
 the favourite Palace of poor Marie Antoinette. A most 
 elegant and enchanting place it must have been, in thef 
 days of her enjoyment of it; before the envenomed tongue 
 Of calumny and malevolence had rendered an amiable 
 and a virtuous Queen, an object of hatred, scorn, and 
 Vengeance to the fickle and deluded people that once 
 adored both her and her martyred husband. It was 
 the retreat to which this unfortunate personage loved to 
 repair from State fatigues and courtly scenes, at the time 
 alluded to by a Great Luminary of political and moral 
 Ivisdom, when, with cc words sweet as honey" distilling 
 from his pen, he thus describes her : — " It is now six* 
 a teen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of 
 " France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles ; and 
 u surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly 
 u seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw 
 
123 
 
 <a her just above the horison, decorating and cheering 
 66 the elevated sphere she just began to move in, — glit- 
 a tering like the morning star, full of life, and splen- 
 " dour, and joy. O ! >vhat a revolution ; and what a 
 " heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion 
 " that elevation and that fall."* 
 
 The whole exterior of this little palace is pleasing to 
 the eye ; and its peristyle of Italian marble, remarkably 
 handsome. M^ny of the columns, however, bear in- 
 delible impressions of the frenzied violence of the mob 
 who pillaged it. Those were the days of " war to the 
 Palace" The miserable wretches employed in it — 
 tools of political hypocrites — found, when too l^te, that 
 they were not the days of " peace to the Cottage." I 
 had not forgotten the state of the double suite of apart- 
 ments, to which they serve as the connecting collonade, 
 at the period of my former visit : these then presented 
 only ruins, completely despoiled of their costly furni- 
 ture ; and the paintings, gildings, and carved work that 
 remained, were either mutilated or covered with white 
 wash. But the work of restoration (and Jiat justitia, be 
 it spoken to Buonaparte's credit), has again put an as- 
 pect on things here also, suitable to so charming a spot. 
 
 We passed through the marble vestibule to the Gal- 
 lery on one side, and the apartments of the Dauphin on 
 the other, in which there are some fine pictures by Vernet 
 and Poussin j some excellent models of marine architec- 
 ture ; and several views of Versailles and the Trianons, 
 by Martin and others. The gardens are delicious, full 
 of flowers of all kinds, and superbly ornamented with 
 busts, groups, and fountains. Trianon used to be 
 termed par excellence, " the Garden of Flowers " 
 
 * Burke, on the French Revolution, p. 112. 
 R2 
 
124 
 
 Leaving Trianon and the Park, we approached the 
 Chateau, and took a turn round the Garden of the Queen, 
 laid out not only professedly but correctly in the English 
 stile — thence to the Bosquet de la Collonade, in the 
 tiiiddle of which is a pircular peristyle of marble, and a 
 superb groupe, representing the rape of Proserpine. 
 But of all the objects that claim the stranger's attention 
 in the Gardens of Versailles, the Baths of Apollo un- 
 questionably deserve a preference. It afforded me 
 real satisfaction to see completely re-converted from 
 its state of confusion and neglect, the charming plan- 
 tation in which the chef d^ceuvre of Girardon is en- 
 veloped, amidst a most appropriate and skilfully-disposed 
 mass of artificial rock. Every body knows that this 
 celebrated design consists of three groupes : the princi- 
 pal of which represents Apollo, attended by nymphs — 
 the two subordinate groups, placed on each side the 
 first, are the horses belonging to tfce chariot of that fa- 
 bled divinity in the attitude of drinking : the symmetry 
 of these animals, and the spirited forms of the Tritons 
 who hold them, are admirable. And when the water, issu- 
 ing from the picturesque recesses of the grotto of Thetis, 
 and falling in a cascade that fills the great basin below, 
 imparts to this superb work all the animation and force of 
 which it is susceptible, the effect is surpassingly de- 
 lightful. 
 
 After satiating ourselves with the costly and marvellous 
 decorations of these vast gardens, we ascended one of 
 the escaliers of the Orangery, and in our way up looked 
 from the balustrades into that superb conservatory ; some 
 of the numerous trees of which are said to be as old as 
 the reign of Francis the First. At length we placed 
 ourselves in the middle of the Grande Terrace, before 
 
125 
 
 ihe northern fa$ade of the Palace, which, in combina- 
 tion with the surrounding objects, presents a scene of 
 princely grandeur. It is indeed an aggregate of asto- 
 nishing magnificence ; and as it offers ample attractions 
 for the eye, so with equal fruitfulness does it "furnish 
 food for contemplation ." There is, however, a consi- 
 derable falling off in the appearance of the Great Canal, 
 in front of the Chateau, which is not a fourth part filled 
 tvith water — another proof of the inadequacy of the ma- 
 chine at Marli to supply the demands at Versailles ! The 
 landscape too, in the direction of the canal, is flat and 
 insipid. 
 
 For admission to the interior of the Palace, we were 
 obliged to apply for tickets. The Salle de P Opera re- 
 mains as much in the dark as it did when I saw it before ; 
 and what is worse, it serves to conceal some pictures 
 which are excellent enough to deserve plenty of light — 
 and the plan of this Theatre, and its decorations, are on 
 a scale infinitely superior in extent and splendour to that 
 of Paris. The fetes in honour of Louis X VPs. marriage, 
 were celebrated in the Salle, which was finished for the 
 occasion. Here also the banquet was given by the 
 Gardes du Corps to the Regiment of Flandres, the pro- 
 ceedings at which were of that imprudent and impolitic 
 kind which gave a handle to the factious, and led to the 
 dreadful transactions of the 6th of October, 1789. The 
 exhilirations of the entertainment, the air of" O Richard, 
 O mon Roi,* the presence of the Sovereign and his 
 family, offered circumstances of extenuation more than 
 sufficient for liberal minds ; but that was an epocha 
 wheu the enthusiasts of Freedom^ (as it was called), ex- 
 cused every thing but the enthusiasm of Loyalty ! The 
 Chapel is an exquisite specimen of Corinthian richness, 
 
126 
 
 and all its ornaments worthy of the sacred appropria* 
 tion; marbles, painted cielings, bronze and gilt figures, 
 and a magnificent altar piece give a superb finish to 
 this noble temple. We now came to that suite of apart* 
 ments which constitutes the climax of magnfficence in 
 this immense Palace. In these the architectural designs 
 of a Mansard^ and the pencil of a Le Brun, display 
 the utmost exertions of their transcendant genius : to 
 those two great artists, joined to Le Notre, who planned 
 the Gardens, the Grand Monarque confided the execu- 
 tion of his intentions, and the employment of those funds 
 which the financial abilities of his Minister Colbert had 
 amassed for him. 
 
 The Petits Maitres, who now conduct us through, 
 these splendid rooms, oblige us to march at a quicker 
 step than one relishes to proceed with, amidst such a 
 world of fine things: and I verily believe, that though 
 they took our money for what used to be shewn gratis, 
 yet they cheated us out of a peep or two. There used to 
 be a Cabinet of Natural History, and a Gallery of 
 Pictures, appropriated specially to the works of the 
 modern French school ; neither of which we this time 
 saw. On passing through the bed chamber of the 
 Queen, we were shewn the door in the tapestry, through 
 which Marie Antoinette escaped from the rioters of 
 Paris, and only saved her life by a speedy flight to 
 another part of the Castle.* Yes, this was the very 
 chamber ! 
 
 * " On the morning of the 6th of October, 1789, (I quote from Mr. 
 u Buike, the most concise yet the most faithful and eloquent narrative 
 " ever written of that appalling event) the King and Queen of France, 
 " after a day of confusion, alarm, dismay, and slaughter, lay down, 
 4( under the pledged security of public faith, to indulge nature in a few 
 *' hours respite, and troubled melancholy repose. From this sleep the 
 
127 
 
 There is no furniture in the apartments of the Grand 
 Chateau as at Trianon, but the walls are all regilt, and 
 the cielings covered with the finest paintings, by the 
 pencils, as well of Champagne and La Fosse, as of 
 Le Brun. The latter master, in the Grande Gallerie 
 du Hoi, has produced an effect of which no one can 
 form an adequate idea who has not seen it. To add to 
 the grandeur which reigns here, are seventeen prodi- 
 gious mirrors, which being placed opposite the same 
 number of spacious windows, reflect not only the ob- 
 jects in the gallery, but also the gardens and fountains^ 
 in a manner indescribably fine. The Monarch, whose 
 love of flattery, and whose stomach for ostentation, the 
 great artists and poets of the time, knew well how to 
 supply with the high-seasoned stimulus and the lus- 
 cious food, appears personified in every compartment of 
 this glorious room, which serves as a monument at 
 once to indicate his character, and to commemorate his 
 triumphs. 
 
 If, indeed, the fondness of Louis the Fourteenth for 
 building had been the only propensity which he carried 
 to excess, its consequences probably would not have 
 proved very injurious to the interests of his subjects. 
 The money thus expended was immense, but it was ex- 
 
 " Queen was first startled by the voice of the sentinel at her door, who 
 il cried out to her to save herself by flight — that this was the last proof of 
 9i fidelity he could give — that they were upon him, and he was dead. 
 " Instantly he was cut down : a band of cruel ruffians and assassins, 
 *' reeking with his blood, rushed into the Chamber of the 2ueen, and 
 " pierced with a hundred strokes of bayonets and poniards the bed from 
 " whence this persecuted woman had but just time to fly, almost naked, 
 " and, through ways unknown to the murderers, had escaped to seek 
 " refuge at the feet of a king and husband, not secure of Uis own life for 
 < 4 a moment \"—Remarh$ on the French Revolution, p. 105. 
 
128 
 
 pended iri and on the country. The objects to which 
 for the most part it was devoted were " the public orna* 
 merits they were the public consolation; the?/ nourished 
 the public hope"* and they still remain to adorn and de- 
 light not only France herself, but the Continent of 
 which she forms so considerable and beautiful a por- 
 tion. On the lamentable choice made of such a spot 
 for such a purpose, I have already taken occasion to 
 offer a remark, which no doubt has suggested itself t® 
 most people who have visited it. When the famous 
 Bernini proposed, for sixty millions of livres, to re- 
 build the Castle of St. Germain, in a Style worthy of 
 Louis's magnificence, the King was frightened at the 
 expence : he relinquished the advantages of that super- 
 latively fine locality ; and directed his attention to a 
 little hunting seat of his father's, where, on a most un-^ 
 promising and (as it proved) unfavourable soil, without 
 water, and without prospects, he misapplied talents and 
 wealth beyond all calculation, and Versailles at length 
 became what it now appears. 
 
 In taking the question of expence into consideration, 
 it should, however, be remembered, that when this stu- 
 pendous monument of human ingenuity and labour 
 was in its progress towards accomplishment, the Mo- 
 narch of whom we are speaking was in the plenitude of 
 l\is power, and at the ?enith of his greatness. Under 
 the energetic and wisely directed measures of his Go- 
 vernment, France had risen to a pitch of glory and 
 prosperity, such as could not even have been hoped for 
 at the stormy and perilous commencement of bis reign 
 over a then factious and impoverished people. Having 
 already wrought a great amelioration in the resources 
 
 # Burke. 
 
129 
 
 ©f the State by regulations of salutary reform, and By 
 works of the highest public utility, this great Prince 
 called around him the genius and talent of France 
 to realize a trophy to his and to his kingdom's honour 
 and renown, which, while it displays all the minuter 
 and more highly-finished combinations of embellish- 
 ment, that characterise the art of modern times, has 
 been achieved on a scale which reminds us of the 
 gigantic works of the ancients. And, surely, if we are 
 not reluctant in admitting that it was the developement 
 of encreased knowledge, and the evidences of improved 
 civilization, that gave a just title of pre-eminence, in 
 the annals of Rome, to the age of Augustus , then indeed 
 we can hardly refuse to recognize a claim to the same 
 illustrious distinction, for an epocha in the history of 
 France, illuminated by so vast and brilliant a constella- 
 tion of human intellect, and distinguished by so active 
 a spring in the various sources of social and national 
 welfare as that of Louis the Fourteenth ! No : it is not 
 in erecting palaces ; it is not in maintaining the dignity, 
 state, and pomp of his Crown, by decorating and en- 
 dowing the capital and the realm which owned his 
 supreme authority with splendid edifices and with 
 beneficent and liberal institutions i it is not in these acts 
 that his memory has incurred a just reproach. It was 
 the passion of Louis for conquest and foreign controul ; 
 it was his being perpetually embroiled on points of false 
 honour, and in wars of unprincipled ambition ; it was 
 his bad faith abroad, and his libertine extravagance at 
 home, that beggared his means, tarnished his reputa- 
 tion, exposed his vanity to ridicule, reduced his pride 
 tQ the severest humiliations; and which adding the 
 
 S 
 
130 
 
 pangs of vexation and disquietude to the infirmities of 
 advanced years, clouded with gloomy bigotry that closing 
 moment, when no remembrances, however flattering, of 
 having acted a great part, can carry with them to the 
 soul that consolation which is to be found in the con* 
 sciousness of having performed a good one* 
 
131 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Paris — Visit to the Thuilleries — Hall of the Marshals- 
 Ceremony of the King's going to Mass — Visit to the 
 Picture and Statue Galleries at the Louvre — Remarks on 
 the restitution of the Works of Art. 
 
 May 27th. 
 
 INTENDING to visit the Palace to day, for the 
 purpose of seeing the King go to Chapel, we attended, 
 in our dressing, to the only regulation required from 
 strangers, namely, that of not wearing boots ; and after 
 breakfast whiled away the time till noon in a stroll 
 through the Gardens of the Thuilleries, enjoying the 
 refreshing breezes ©f a fine morning in that ever agree- 
 able and interesting promenade. At half-past eleven 
 the gates of the Palace were opened, and the concourse 
 of people assembled at them was permitted to enter. 
 Proceeding with the rest through the magnificent vesti- 
 bule, we ascended the grand escalier^ which is on a scale 
 well calculated to prepare the mind for the sumptuous 
 and rich apartments to which it leads. Passing through 
 two handsome anti-chambers, we arrived at the Salle 
 des Mareschaux, a spacious and noble room in the 
 middle Pavillion, on the walls of which are placed 
 portraits of the Marshals of France , of Buonaparte's 
 creation ;* for the most part personages of appearance 
 
 * Among these I observed the Prince of Neufchatel (Berthier), the 
 Duke of Cornegliano (Moncey), the Prince of Esling and Rivoli 
 (Massena), the Duke of Montebello (Lasnes), the Duke of Valmi (Kel- 
 lerraan), the Duke of Belluno (Victor), the Duke of Castiglione (Augereau) 
 the Duke of Tarentum (Macdouald), the Duke of Reggio (Oudinot), and 
 Marshals Serrurier and Jourdan. 
 
 S2 
 
132 
 
 neither dignified nor commanding, and the paintings 
 themselves of ordinary merit. One of the companies of 
 the Gardes du Corps did duty in this saloon ; and the 
 National Guard and Garde Royale were on service in 
 the antichamber, on the staircase, and at the Gates of 
 the Thuilleries : and thus the claims of the ancien and 
 pretensions of the nouveau regime are conciliated, and 
 the different military bodies amalgamated on seemingly 
 good terms of united service. 
 
 At twelye o'clock the approach of his Majesty was 
 announced : the word aux armes brought the Body 
 Guardsmen to their stations ; and a line was preserved 
 diagonally across the saloon from the Royal Apartments 
 to the doors leading to the Chapel. The Bishop Al- 
 moner, followed by several General and State Officers, 
 appeared first. A loud cry of " Vive Monsieur" pre- 
 pared us for seeing the King's brother pass next. The 
 Prince is a man of plain but cheerful countenance; 
 about 60, but looks younger, wears his hair without 
 powder ; he was dressed in the uniform of the National 
 Guard, of which he is Colonel-General : he bowed with 
 affability to all who saluted him ; indeed his manner and 
 physiognomy had much in them of that unaffected 
 unostentatious character which distinguishes an Eng- 
 lish nobleman or gentleman of consequence. Louis 
 XVIII. then followed the procession, as fast as his poor 
 gouty joints and corpulent person would let him. The 
 likenesses of the King, in the print shops, are extremely 
 correct, except perhaps that his face has a greater ex- 
 pression of benignity in it than is generally communi- 
 cated to the portraits. His habit of body appears to be 
 very plethoric. His countenance was flushed with heat 
 by the mere exertion of going along the rooms, and re- 
 
133 
 
 ceiving the various Itequetes (Petitions) that were at 
 every step presented to him. These he instantly trans- 
 ferred to one of his attendant Noblesse ; but I understand 
 he reads and gives answers to them all. lie was dressed 
 in a dark blue coat, with gold epaulettes and star, with 
 different orders at his breast. — His Majesty was saluted 
 with loud cries of u Vive le Roi" — " Vive noire hon 
 pere" and the voices of the female part of the spectators 
 were particularly exerted in these loyal acclaims, 
 which were repeated incessantly, in the usual chanting 
 key of French aspiration, until the Sovereign had en- 
 tered the Chapel. Having thus paid our respects, (as 
 sincere as the most vociferous of his subjects then pre- 
 sent) to Louis Dix Huit) in the palace of his ancestors, 
 we stopped a few minutes to witness the ceremony of 
 La Garde Mont ante, from the windows of the Thuilleries, 
 and retired. The military spectacle on these occasions 
 is not to be compared with that in Buonaparte's time. 
 That day certainly was " the soldier's pride " in this 
 country ; but I hope, although the rightful king cannot 
 u ride on horseback," that his good sense, good inten- 
 tions, and no less zealous endeavours, will make his 
 reign u the nation'* s blessing." Such is my worst wish 
 to France ; yet I envy not his lot, whose task it is to 
 realize it : his throne is no " bed of roses ;" but a wise 
 liberality and an enlightened firmness may, under Provi- 
 dence, work political miracles. 
 
 Our next visit was to the Louvre Gallery. When 
 we first applied for admission at the gate of this once 
 unrivalled Museum, our curiosity was tantalized with a 
 sort of "wild-goose reference for tickets a Monsieur le 
 Ministre du Hoi, Pavilion de Flore, aux Thuilleries. 
 It was easy to read in the countenances of those to whom 
 
134 
 
 we addressed ourselves, the expression of a sullen reply 
 to our desire of seeing the pictures and statues — " Nay, 
 but to see the nakedness of the land ye are come" I 
 suspect that the cast of our own features, in receiving 
 this intelligence, was any thing but a denial of the cor- 
 rectness of the Frenchman's supposition. How little 
 disposed soever one may be to " tread on the kibe" of 
 national feeling in those towards whom both good nature 
 and policy prompt us to maintain a courteous behaviour, 
 yet there are circumstances in which the obnoxious 
 sentiment in our own heart will interpret itself (maugre 
 the best intentioned effort of polite dissimulation) to the 
 mind from which we are all the while studying to con- 
 ceal it. Nor would I be sworn that our worthy friend 
 La B. to whom we successfully resorted in our diffi- 
 culty, did not participate in the same train of apprehen- 
 sion, as to the object of our request, and the same degree 
 of reluctance as to a compliance with it : although it 
 was only to ask and we had what we wanted. But 
 every Frenchman (and I speak of the trait as covering a 
 multitude of sins) is alive to the love of country* 
 Our friend, intelligent and amiable in his general charac- 
 ter, was in that particular point of it a true son of France : 
 but he was also a Royalist — a man who had dared to be 
 an honest and staunch friend to his King, even " in the 
 worst of times." And he kept himself perfectly aloof 
 from all share in the blame and the shame of losing the 
 chefs d'ceuvre. That misfortune, with numberless 
 others, he observed, was the work of the Buonapartistes. 
 To them, and to their darling Emperor, by whose mad 
 and selfish projects France had been made to drink deep 
 of the bitter cup she had so often prepared for others, 
 exclusively belonged the humiliating responsibility of 
 
135 
 
 surrendering the Keys of the Loircre to tlie Allies, who- 
 have opened the plunder-room only to help themselves 
 to their own again ! 66 After all (added he) the act of 
 *' restoring to every state its stolen property, or, in 
 " other words, what was taken from it by that law of 
 the strongest, the assumed right of conquest, had 
 66 nothing in it but what might have been done with a 
 " good grace : we, however, did it with a bad one* 
 " Yet (continued M. La B.) there may at least be this 
 iC excuse urged for our repugnance at parting with 
 " those treasures of the w orld of art : an excuse more 
 u deserving of consideration than all that can be urged 
 " in the spirit of mortified pride (which with us has too 
 u long had a false glory for its object) it is that we had 
 u naturalized these foreign productions — we had in one 
 " sense made them our own, not indeed by the legality 
 u of their original acquisition, but by using them well, 
 w and freely displaying them, during the long period we 
 66 had them in our possession.'' It is never my disposi- 
 tion to push subjects of this peculiar kind to the ex- 
 treme of disputation and fastidious argument. My 
 French friend had made concessions of principle far 
 beyond the usual scope of Gallic rationality on such 
 topics of excitement to their susceplibilite; and he 
 seemed on every ground of candour and indulgence, ta 
 deserve the privilege of retreating by " the golden 
 bridge" of sophistry, which he had thus thrown over the 
 ugly defile of barefaced rapine ending in forced restitu- 
 tion ! I accepted the weak defence which he had made 
 for his countrymen, for the sake of his own strong sup- 
 port of personal character ; and I soothed his patriot 
 feelings ( using the term in a national not an anarchical 
 sense) by saying, that I wished all the real owners of 
 
136 
 
 these riches of genius might shew themsel ves worthy of 
 their good fortune, by evincing the same capability 
 which the French had done, to appreciate the value of 
 such enviable possessions. 
 
 Accompanied by Mons. La B. who, having tranfera- 
 ble tickets of his own j obtained entrance for us without 
 further trouble, we entered the Grand Saloon, or Anti- 
 Chamber, that leads to the Long Gallery. The walls 
 of this introductory apartment I had seen covered with 
 the pictures captured by the French armies in Italy ; 
 some of the choicest productions of the Florentine, 
 Venetian, and Roman schools. All were gone : none 
 remained to conceal the dirty walls, except one single 
 solitary object, viz. Paul Veronese's large painting of 
 " the Marriage of Cana" Here was " a fell swoop !" 
 What a desert to begin our travels in ! We ceased to 
 accuse the Parisians of incivility in manifesting their 
 wish that strangers, for the present at least, should 
 make themselves scarce at the Louvre. There was 
 something so whimsically triste in the shrug of our 
 conductor as he noticed the involuntary gesticulation 
 which indicated my astonishment ; something so much 
 in unison with the ruefulness of the surrounding void, 
 that I was obliged to avert my eyes from the significant 
 glance of my worthy compagnon de voyage, lest by a 
 sympathetic impulse, the restrained muscles of both our 
 countenances should be betrayed into risibility. But 
 the events which had led to this extraordinary and 
 total change were of a nature creative of other emotions 
 than those of a laughable tendency. The " eternal" 
 trophies of Napoleon's Italian campaigns reduced to 
 this! His Empire reduced to less than this, were seri- 
 ous — were awful subjects of reflection. Yet, the re* 
 
137 
 
 membrance of that insolent bombast and servile adula- 
 tion with which his u victorious destinies" have ever 
 been blazoned by his adherents, recurring as it naturally 
 did, at the moment to which I am adverting*, had the 
 effect of superadding the poignancy of ridicule to the 
 grave impression of u the great moral lesson." 
 
 Detained no longer by the beauties and excellencies 
 that were wont to adorn the Grand Saloon, we followed 
 the officer to the door of the Gallerie d? Apollon, which 
 opening, presented to our view the prodigiously length- 
 ened Visto, Which a twelvemonth ago was justly 
 ranked for its precious contents as one of the wonders of 
 the world. Its worth and splendour are no longer the 
 same, but the scene was not so dreary as the one 
 just quitted. Great and numerous, however, have been 
 its losses. As we paced down this room of 400 yards 
 in length, with steps proportioned to the hurried 
 strides of our attendant, the walls continually presented 
 to us hiatwmaximc dejlendi — the places once honoured 
 by the caiivas of the finest painters. But although the 
 pictures, which thus remain scattered up and down, 
 ¥ rari in gurgite vaslo, serve but feebly to shadow forth 
 the magnificence of the former coup d'ceil ; still in the 
 aggregate, they unquestionably constitute a collection, 
 " if not the first, in the very first line" of merit and 
 extent. Le Brun (his battles of Alexander) Poussin 
 (all his chefs d'eeuvre) and PhiUipe de Champagne, of 
 the French school : Rubens, Jordaens, Tenters, Rem* 
 brandt, Van Dycke, Bassan^ Szc. of the Flemish and 
 Dutch schools : Leonardo de Vinci, Carrcvagio, Gucr- 
 cino, Julio Romano, Titian, Guklo, Domenichino, and 
 the " divine" Raphael (his Holy Family) of the. dif- 
 ferent Italian Academies t and Murillo^ of the SpanisK 
 
 T 
 
138 
 
 schodl. These transcendant masters still display here & 
 rich and exquisitely interesting tribute of their labours. 
 Yet, few in number as they now are, compared with 
 the immense accumulation of the Musee Napoleon, it 
 may nevertheless correctly be asserted, that too many 
 yet remain to condemn the vain theatric pride, which 
 bas chosen to place pictures in an apartment where the 
 "windows admit the glare and perplexity of cross lights. 
 The Gallery of the Louvre, originally constructed for 
 a very different purpose, can never be made fit for the 
 exhibition of pictures : such at least is my own opinion, 
 but so think not the French ; and they are now busily 
 occupied in a new arrangement of them, with the inten- 
 tion to fill up the lamented vacancies from the cabinet 
 at Versailles, the Luxembourg Gallery, and the Bor- 
 ghese Collection, including a large proportion of the 
 modern school of France. 
 
 Descending into the Museum of Statues, we beheld, 
 in the most striking light, the consequences of that 
 purgative system which had caused the French Dawi 
 to moult their borrowed plumes. Here we saw, on one 
 side, pedestals without statues; on another, statues 
 without pedestals. " A mighty maze but not without a 
 plan ;" for, as in the Long Room above stairs, so m 
 the suite of halls below, the lucidus or do has begun to 
 re-appear, in the new organization of the statuary, a 
 business which employs a number of workmen, and is 
 proceeding with great dispatch. In every respect are 
 the subjects worthy of this considerate zeal : and could 
 we forget what it was ; could we forget this museum as 
 the repository of the Laocoon, the Venus, and the Apollo „• 
 one should then, perhaps, be prompted to speak in 
 warmer expressions of admiration of what it is, or rather^ 
 
139 
 
 tfliat it soon will be. With the exception, indeed, of 
 those unrivalled objects, forming as they would do of 
 themselves alone a Museum more than Imperial^ there 
 will still be found assembled here what, I should con- 
 ceive, may justly be deemed the finest cpllection ,o£ 
 aptique sculpture in the wpxld : and I shall, with still 
 greater confidence, venture to assert, in opposition to 
 all which the tribe, who have so long made a sport of 
 old-fashioned distinctions between meum and tuum, 
 may say to the contrary, that the Galleries of the 
 Louvre, even now, retain treasures of such worth and 
 brilliancy as reflect back on the Allied Powers that 
 superior claim to praise— the merit of having resisted 
 temptation, uninfected by the contagion of a b$d 
 example 1 
 
140 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Paris — The Pont des Axis— Palace of the Institute— The 
 Monnaies — Museum of French Monuments — Observations 
 on the magnitude, arrangement , and object of that collection 
 ^strictures on the principle on which it is now continued* 
 
 May 20th. 
 
 J. HIS day was principally occupied in visiting the 
 Museum of F rench Monuments, at the Petits Angus- 
 tins ; in our way thither we crossed the Pont des Arts y 
 one of the new bridges ; its foundations were laid in 
 1802 : the piers are of stone, and the arches of cast iron ? 
 but it is only for foot passengers, and each pays a sous. 
 On enquiring why this bridge was so restricted, an 
 anecdote was related to us, that when it v/as opened in 
 1804 to the public, so large a concourse of people 
 rushed over the platform at once, that the cast iron 
 work was lifted up an-end with them ; great consterna- 
 tion ensued, but happily no serious mischief was done : 
 ever since, however, only a certain number of persons 
 are allowed to pass the bridge at one time. The view 
 from this little bridge, between the noble quays extend- 
 ing from the Pont Neuf to the Pqnt Royal, is extremely 
 fine, and would be more so if the objects on the river 
 were more seemly and more dignified, but the Seine is 
 lumbered up with rafts and washing houses, and its 
 banks clogged with piles of firewood, and with accumu* 
 lations of filth. 
 
 Directly opposite the southern entrance of the Pont 
 des Arts stands the Church and College of the Four 
 
141 
 
 Nations, founded by Cardinal Mamrin, a very fine 
 combination of architecture. The former is now ap- 
 propriated to the public sittings of the Institute^ and the 
 latter is occupied by the different academies and 
 schools of art connected with that great literary and 
 scientific establishment. The entablature of the portal 
 is inscribed " aux sciences, aux lettres, et aux 
 arts." I cannot say that the interior arrangements 
 of the building appeared to correspond with the 
 requisites of those various departments to which it is at 
 present dedicated. In a dark confined antichamber 
 are placed statues of the great theologians, poets, his- 
 torians, painters, statesmen, and philosophers of France : 
 viz. Bosuet, Fenelon, Sully, Descartes, Rollin, Mon- 
 tausicr, Corncille, Pascal, Moliere, La Fontaine^ 
 Poussin, Racine, Montesquieu, Mole, and Montaigne. 
 On the plinth of the latter are the words " Que sais je ?" 
 (what know I ?) The heart, surely, of every wise and 
 every pious man must respond to the sentiment of 
 modesty and ingenuousness developed in these three 
 emphatic monosy llables ; and he who knows the most 
 will be the most apt to ask himself the self-humiliating 
 question ! The body of the church underneath the 
 dome has been converted into a kind of amphitheatre, 
 for the assembly of the body of savans, in a manner best 
 calculated, no doubt, for encreasing the coup de spec- 
 tacle, which the French "so much study, whether in the 
 opera Or the senate, in the pulpit or the field! Our 
 Royal Society would feel themselves but little at their 
 ease, in making such an exposition of their persons as 
 well as of their talents, before a crowded audience, 
 placed in a semi-circular array before them. The 
 School of Architecture, in a room of much too circum- 
 
142 
 
 scribed dimensions, contains an interesting collection of 
 plaster and cork models, representing in their present, 
 and in their supposed perfect state, the temples and 
 other celebrated public edifices of Egypt, India, Persia, 
 Greece, and Rome. Among these the temple of 
 Jupiter at Palmyra; the Parthenon at Athens, and the 
 plan of the Capitol at Rome % the Tomb of Diogenes, the 
 Temple of the Winds, and a Roman Theatre of elabo- 
 rate workmanship, and minuteness of detail, appeared 
 deserving of particular notice and commendation. 
 
 Close by this recently christened Palais des Beaux 
 Arts, is the Hotel de Mommies, (the Mint) a building 
 justly admired for the grandeur and elegant decorations 
 of its principal facade. I did not this time visit its in- 
 terior, in which, besides the whole curious apparatus 
 belonging to the national coinage, there is a superb 
 collection of mineralogy, contained in one of the finest 
 public apartments in Paris. 
 
 The Museum of French Monuments, completed in 
 all its arrangements, now forms the most striking, 
 comprehensive, and valuable collection of the kind 
 that can, or indeed ought to exist in the civilized 
 world. It presents a picture of the state of the arts 
 of design and sculpture, from the glimmering of the 
 middle ages, and the Aurora of the fifteenth century, 
 proceeding onwards to the meridian splendour of the 
 «pocha of Louis XIV. and the continued lustre of the 
 present era. The space, in grounds and in buildings 
 occupied by this Museum, is considerably enlarged 
 since I visited it in 1802. The plan, not confined to 
 cenotaphs, statues, urns, and busts, has extended itself 
 to the transportation hither of prodigious portions of 
 architectural workmanship, from castles and abbies 
 
U3 
 
 mined by the edicts of that immortal "assembly which 
 sat for public confiscation These choice fragments 
 have certainly been most ingeniously restored, and 
 form a sort of connecting chain between the sister arts 
 of building and statuary. The portal of the celebrated 
 and beautiful Chateau (CAnet^ built by Pbillibert de 
 Lorme, for Henry the Second's mistress, Diana of 
 Poictitrs^ now serves as the gate of entrance to the 
 Salle & Introduction. The second Court of the Museum 
 is (we are told) wholly composed with the restored ruins 
 of the Chateau de Gail/on, built by that Maecenas of the 
 fifteenth century, Cardinal George oV Amboise^ Minister 
 of Louis the Twelfth. This Chateau lay on the road 
 side between Vernon and Rouen ; and it fell to my lot, 
 on my return from Paris the former time, to visit these 
 ruins on the very spot. In their restored state — (ah I 
 how restored!) 1 therefore surveyed them again with 
 something like the feelings of old acquaintanceship.t 
 
 * Burke. 
 
 •f* This famous Castle was, in 1789, the residence of Cardinal de 
 Rochefaucaulty Archbishop of Rouen, and the condition in which I 
 beheld it in 1802, it may not be unacceptable to state, in the plain 
 narrative of my Journal of that excursion, wherein it is mentioned in the 
 following words : — u The once superb and elegant Chateau de Gaillon is 
 f situated on an eminence, which commands on every side a fine and 
 " extensive prospect, (it is indeed situated in the richest and most 
 M picturesque part of Normandy :) and before the Revolution was re- 
 " plete with every thing that was tasteful, magnificent, luxurious, and 
 " convenient ; but the barbarous frenzy of that time has made the most 
 " exquisite specimen of ornamental architecture little better than a heap- 
 " of stones. A curious winding staircase in a tower of beautiful work- 
 " manship, gives entrance, mid-way, to a small chapel of equally florid 
 u architectuie, but uearly destroyed: the remains of this, however, are 
 *' almost the only leliques in a tolerably perfect state, as to the sculp- 
 " tural decorations : and although of vast size, is bought by Mr. 
 ** Lenoir^ Administi at ear des Monumem Franr t ais^ aud will be carried 
 
m 
 
 Owing its riches and its worth to circumstances and ft? 
 acquisitions like these, what, after all, is this magnifi- 
 cent Musce des Monumens Francais, but a museum of 
 the monuments of Vandalism ? 
 
 The gardens of the Museum, or, as they are called,, 
 the Elisee, display the happiest success of French in- 
 genuity and taste in producing and multiplying the 
 ejfet pictoresque. But though cypresses and weeping 
 willows, and trees and shrubs of various kinds, grace* 
 fully disposed, and grouped among the monuments, 
 impart what is termed a movement to architecture and 
 an animation to sculpture, yet the climate of Paris is 
 not so constantly free from humidity, but that there are 
 occasions, even in the summer season, when the state of 
 this Elisium is far from proving congenial to an in- 
 dulgence in those dreams of romantic ecstasy \vhich they 
 are avowedly designed to inspire and to cherish. And 
 yet there are in this part of the establishment, some 
 objects of so curious and excellent a kind, that the oc- 
 casions for inspecting them to advantage ought not to 
 depend on the weather. Among the rest, strangely 
 deposited by the side (as it were) of modern pieces, is 
 placed one of the most curious morceaux of the middle 
 
 " to that Museum at Paris, together with some other choice things 
 " The present proprietor, like an egregious blockhead," on taking pos- 
 " session of it, sold off all the lead from the roof, and not being able 
 " now to place it in a condition to be inhabited, is obliged to dispose of 
 " the materials at a great loss to himself, and to the &till deeper and 
 " lasting regret of every admirer of the beautiful antique. The con- 
 ** nected buildings of this vast palace, the stables, the orangery, the ter- 
 " races, and gardens, (of which latter we can only judge by the walls) 
 *' were on the grandest scale. The whole, including a quantity of sur- 
 u rounding land, he holds in consideration of 24,000 livres paid to the 
 M Revolutionary Government, which at the ejectment of its lawful pos- 
 sessor, was valued at 600,000 livres," 
 
145 
 
 gtefcs that have survived the wreck of time or of sacrilege i 
 I mean the Tomb of Dagobert, a sepulchral chapel 
 which originally adorned the church of St. Denis, form- 
 ing one of the number of those pious memorials which 
 Saint Louis caused to be erected to the honour and 
 (according to the Romish Faith) for the souls of his 
 predecessors. It is covered with bass reliefs, represent- 
 ing, in a most singular succession of groupes, the monkish 
 legend of King Dagobert's soul rescued, at its de- 
 parture, from the claws of the Devil and his angels^ 
 by the interposition of Saint Denis ! This monument^ 
 from being continually exposed, contrary to inten- 
 tion, to the action of the atmosphere in a confined 
 situation, has already become spotted with a green 
 Vegetable mould, and is, with many others, evidently 
 suffering injury: and this for no other apparent reason 
 in the world than that of making them subservient to 
 the purposes of fantastical remark and of sentimental 
 rhapsody.* 
 
 The objects contained in the interior compartments 
 of the Museum do not appear to have received any 
 material additions either to their number or their im- 
 portance, since my former visit. The whole prodi- 
 gious assemblage has undergone a new disposition : 
 the number of halls has been increased ; and the Intro- 
 ductory Saloon, considerably enlarged and of the most 
 appropriate construction, presents a coup tfceil of a 
 very magnificent and interesting kind. One cannot in- 
 deed, sufficiently express one's admiration at the able 
 and learned classification, and the extraordinary variety 
 of these works of ancient and modern art : these correct 
 and splendid illustrations of human character and of 
 
 * Description du Musee par Lenoir. — See Observations sur l'Elysee, p. 217, 
 
 U 
 
146 
 
 national genius, saved, as they have been, from tTitf 
 fury, and restored from the mutilating grasp of the 
 revolutionary French— a blind multitude, who, with 
 manners unsoftened by a knowledge of the liberal arts, 
 unchecked by their mild, their sober and enlightening 
 influence, and above all, unresponsive to the operations 
 of a still higher spring of moral conduct, that religious- 
 disposition which is " the basis of civil society, and 
 source of all good and of all comfort/'* were rendered 
 fit instruments in the hands of demagogues, by whom 
 whatever opposed their own demoniac ambition, however 
 glorious, precious, or venerable, was swept away in one 
 Wide torrent of indiscriminate destruction. A tribute 
 of great praise the founder claims ; and such an homage 
 is justly due to Monsieur Le Noir : to him is the 
 stranger indebted for the opportunity of tracing, with 
 an unique facility, the progress of the imitative powers, 
 from the earliest ages of the French Monarchy down to 
 the present time: beginning with the simple monu- 
 mental effigies of Clovis, Dagobert, Charlemagne, and 
 Hugh Capet ; then proceeding t& those patterns of 
 sculptural anatomy in the figures, and those elaborately 
 rich and costly designs in the tombs, of Louis XII. 
 Francis the First, Henry the Second, and Henry the 
 Fourth ; and lastly^ the consecration of refined taste and 
 brilliant workmanship to the highest eclat of sepulchral 
 honours, such as are displayed in the mausoleums of 
 Mazarin and Richelieu, and in the works contempora- 
 neous with, and subsequent to the age of Louis XIV. 
 These format once a regular and complete climax of 
 perfection in Art, and a most interesting series of histo- 
 rical elucidation. 
 
 * Burke 
 
147 
 
 It is impossible, however, for me to refrain from ob- 
 serving, (at the same time that I acknowledge its value) 
 that the impression produced in a Museum like this is 
 of too technical a kind. There seems too much of the 
 affectation of connoisseurship, and too little of the force 
 of just sentiment in the principle on which such a col- 
 lection is supported. Most respectable as an asylum to 
 the Works of Art, when they stood in need of protec- 
 tion, yet it surely loses much of its merit, in still with- 
 holding so many of them from their original sanctuaries, 
 where they were directly identified with the ages of 
 which they represent the most memorable traits. No 
 superiority of advantage afforded to the study of the 
 Artist; no increase of facility offered to the researches 
 of the Antiquary ; no corroborative strength of evidence 
 communicated to the records of the Historian ; can, in- 
 deed in my humble view and feeling of the subject, com- 
 pensate for thus continuing to keep severed the original 
 ties of local and moral connection, whence objects like 
 these, giving exercise, as they were intended to do, to 
 the delightful faculty of associative thought, derive their 
 greatest power to satisfy the understanding, and to 
 charm the imagination, 
 
 U2 
 
148 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Excursion tp St 0 Denis and Montmartre — State of the 
 Abbey of St. JDcnis in 1802 and in 1 8 i 6 — lis Monu- 
 ments still remain deposited in the Museum at Paris — Ob- 
 jections to this retention — Architecture of the Church — 
 Modern Sacristy — Expiatory Altars— Exhumations in 93 
 Montmartre— -Traces of War—View from the summit of 
 the Heights — Connection, historical and mo?al 9 between 
 Montmartre and St. Denis — Church of Montmartre — 
 Ruins of the Abbey — New-built Slaughter houses at the 
 entrance of the Suburbs of Paris. 
 
 May 29th. 
 
 TTlIIS day was employed in visiting St IJenis and 
 Montmartre. When I passed through the former place 
 in 1802, the celebrated Abbey, the sumptuous mauso- 
 leum of Kings and Great Men, was little more than a 
 mouldering ruin. Stripped, by licensed robbers and 
 incendiaries, of its funds of ecclesiastical wealth, and 
 of its more valuable objects of Antiquity and the Arts ; 
 its vaulted roofs fallen in and covering the pavement 
 Ivith undistinguishable wrecks, the Holy Place seemed 
 absolutely abandoned to " the abomination of desolation" 
 —a gloomy remembrancer to the events of that evil hour, 
 when impiety and rebellion, displaying abroad their 
 audacious fronts, and thirsting to share in the spoils of 
 disorganized society, had inflamed the ignorant and 
 barbarous populace to the commission of unutterable 
 horrors. Different, however, and more consolatory i§ 
 the appearance which the Church has of late years as- 
 
149 
 
 sumed. Napoleon, whose kingly propensities were but 
 ill-/3isguised even beneath the Consular robe, had not 
 long worn the mautle of Imperialism, before he began 
 to manifest a respect, till then unavowed, for the Burial 
 Place of Monarchs. Accordingly, under his auspices, 
 the work of renovation was extended to the shattered 
 walls and un weeded floor of poor Saint Denis. The 
 church has been made completely wind and water-tight ; 
 the new parts have been executed in strict con- 
 formity to the old, and the whole shell of the building 
 is in a state of extreme neatness and good order. The 
 only thing still needful, is the trifling desideratum of 
 restoring its treasure and its monuments : and the Abbey 
 will probably be put into repossession of the one quite 
 as soon as of the other. That most honourable and re- 
 sponsibie body, the National Convention, (in 1793) took 
 charge of all the ornaments of the Chureh : the chalices, 
 pyxes, and other rich offerings of ancient piety. And 
 the truly precious remains of the tombs and statues, are 
 now in the Musee des Monumens Francah. 
 
 Now, it is here , in this very place — the Abbey of St. 
 Denis, that one feels, in the strongest sense, the objec- 
 tions to which the present plan and principle of the 
 Parisian Institution are liable. Giving all the praise 
 due to M. Le iVWr, for what he did, at a very critical 
 and dangerous moment, to preserve and restore those 
 inestimable works, I must still contend, that they should 
 on no account have been considered otherwise than as a 
 sacred deposit for temporary security. To rescue the 
 national monuments from popular fury and fanaticism ; 
 to supply their mutilations ; and to place them where 
 they might be studied and admireJ, till happier times 
 should render their former sanctuaries again fit for their 
 
150 
 
 reception— this was an object worthy the aim and exer- 
 tion of the intrepid^ the judicious, the consistent friend 
 to the Liberal Arts : all the rest (in my own appre- 
 hension) amounts to nothing more than the mere dilletanti 
 whim of Museum making ! 
 
 The founder of the Musee Franqais has, it seem, the 
 ambition of rendering it what he is pleased to term, 
 i 'une veritable histoire monumentale de la Monarchic 
 Frangaise."* But Monsieur Le Noir appears to have 
 forgotten, that before Crowned Heads, and Mitred Brows 
 were denounced by his countrymen, as efficacious and 
 indispensable sacrifices to human Reason and Rights, at 
 the shrine of Saint Guillotine; and before the work of Re~ 
 generation was commenced, by strewing the land with 
 carcases and ashes, this venerable pile so miserably out- 
 raged, and so long neglected ; this once bright star of 
 antiquity, still divested of those rays that gave it lustre 
 and beauty, was to all the best interests and purposes 
 for which such Institutions are established and main- 
 tained, the true monumental History of the Monarchy 
 of France. — " Les chef d^ceuvres de beaux arts (it is 
 elegantly and correctly observed by Madame de Stael) 
 les ruines antiques^ nous apprennent Vhistoire par 
 rimaginaiion et le sentiment." —And it was in this 
 famous basilick) coeval in some of its parts with the 
 earliest of the three regal dynasties of. the French 
 nation, that the tributary respect of successive ages had 
 united in amassing a collection, directly calculated to 
 influence the feelings of the heart through the only cor- 
 rect medium, that of th.e understanding— a permanent 
 and satisfactory kind of impression, which the nicely 
 ordered refinements, arid . factitious analogies^ of the 
 
 * Musee, p. 1£4. 
 
151 
 
 Petits AugmiinSy Iiowever ingenious and however nti«* 
 posing, must inevitably fa 11 short of producing on the 
 mind of the reflecting observer. 
 
 The east and west ends of the Church are obviously 
 of earlier date than the nave and transepts ; and it is 
 not a little curious to note the skill with which the 
 architects of the later portion of the building have 
 adapted it to the old work; amalgamating the pointed 
 with the circular architecture; and strengthening the 
 superstructure they have raised by means of flying 
 buttresses and other expedients for supporting weak 
 masonry. The west front possesses a remarkable, I 
 had almost said an affected degree of simplicity ; so little 
 promise does it give of the architectural grandeur and 
 beauty within. Its two flanking towers, though unlike 
 in design, and of unequal loftiness, have yet a boldness 
 in them that almost exceeds belief. The portals are 
 covered with a sort of Zodiac and Hieroglyphic de- 
 signs. Their sculptures, however, are shockingly de- 
 faced; the heads of the figures being, as it were syste- 
 matically knocked off by the decapitators. The nave, 
 which is of extraordinary height, * is of the lightest and 
 most elegant description of the pointed stile. To sup- 
 ply the collection of painted glass, great part of which 
 was put up by Abbot Sieger, in 1 1 10, the windows are 
 glazed with pieces of various colours, cut in lozenge 
 form. The superb rose windows in the transepts are 
 Gained in the same manner: but the effect is glaring; 
 
 * In reference to this circumstance, Mr. Wluttingham, in his able 
 and interesting work on " the Ecclesiastical Antiquities of France, " ob- 
 serves, that " the bold and striking elevation which distinguishes the 
 works of the French Architects, and to which their lightness is in a gieat 
 measure to be attributed, is very remarkable in this Church, where the 
 nave is 90 feet high and only 39 wide." 
 
132 
 
 ii is not in harmony with the tranquil solemnity of the 
 edifice. There is something singular in the appearance 
 of Buonaparte's initial N. and the bees (which he copied 
 from Childeric and Clovis) in the same lights with the 
 fleurs de lis, and other symbols of the Botirbonsl We now 
 find, what our friend Sir Lucius O'Trigger, in the 
 Play, would call "very snug lying in the Abbey " — 
 The crypts are all cleaned out and spruced up; and in 
 short, rendered proper for the Ultima Domus of an 
 Emperor. This was Buonaparte's opinion of them, 
 as we gathered from our conductor, who shews us a 
 door of bronze highly ornamented with gold work, in- 
 tended for the caveau, which, at a time, when " good 
 easy man, full sure he thought his greatness was a 
 ripening," instead of decaying, his Imperial Majesty 
 chose for the sepulchre of the "Fourth Dynasty. ■ 
 Modern statues of the Kings of France fill the niches 
 formerly occupied by their coffins. These vaults form 
 part of the subterranean church of the Monastery, the 
 construction of which is attributed to the time of Pepin.* 
 The capitals of the short massive columns and pilasters 
 are beautifully ornamented with foliage and grotesque. 
 
 The concierge pointed out to us three autels expiatoires ? 
 (I prefer giving the jargon in their own language) — th& 
 two former of these semi-pagan monuments are erected 
 to the memory of the Meroxingian and the Carlovingian 
 race of Kings— the third is dedicated to the Capetian 
 race, of which the Bourbons are descendants. Expia- 
 tion ^ indeed ; — Grant me patience, gentle Heaven ! — 
 This is the Gallic doctrine of atonement. They can 
 laugh at and despise the wretched compromise (for such 
 it was} which Dagobert offered for his licentious and 
 
 * Lenpir.— Musee, p. 173. 
 
153 
 
 Cruel life^ by founding this very Abbey ;■ but is their 
 subterfuge, in these paltry succedanea, less ridiculous 
 and contemptible, than his superstition. Or rather, 
 might we not say, that the darkly ignorant suggestions 
 of that Monarch's perturbed conscience may plead a 
 better excuse than can the wilfully deceptive dictates of 
 their enlightened minds ? But Human Nature, that com- 
 pound of virtues and vices, of dignity and infirmity, 
 has still proved itself the same, in spite of the blighting 
 power of ancient priestcraft to denaturalize, and of the 
 presumptuous attempts of modern philosophy to per- 
 ftctionate it. 
 
 The Sacristy to the east of the High Altar is a hand- 
 some piece of Grecian architecture. It was built by 
 Napoleon, and contains some pictures by Grenier, a 
 living artist; Among the subjects are Dagobert ap- 
 proving the design of the Church : the funeral obsequies 
 of the same Monarch : the visits made to the Abbey by 
 Charlemagne, and by Francis 1. and the Emperor 
 Charles the. Fifth. They are not works of superlative 
 merit ; but they serve in some measure to revive that 
 interest, which is apt to become dormant in a place di- 
 vested of monumental attractions. It is not, indeed, the 
 mere view of architectural beauties ; nor the picturesque 
 effect of ancient ruins, that constitutes the most rational 
 and substantial source of gratification. When we con- 
 template a great Cathedral, or a dilapidated Convent 
 Church, we involuntarily fall into a sort of discourse 
 with ourselves. These doors, we say, have been passed 
 many ages ago by such and such illustrious visitors— 
 this pavement has formed the route of a procession on 
 such a renowned occasion — that sacred object has ri* 
 vetted the attention, and warmed the devotions of such 
 
 X 
 
154 
 
 si monarch — that shrine has been knelt at by such m 
 warrior — at this altar such a prelate has officiated.—* 
 And, for my own part, never do I reap, from the scanty 
 acquisitions and humble measure of intellectual powers 
 that have fallen to my lot, any results more pleasurable 
 than those which prod&ce themselves when thus the reiit 
 is given to Fancy, under the lively excitement of ob- 
 jects in themselves so venerable and so impressive. 
 
 Opposite the portal of the South Transept, at the ex- 
 tremity of an enclosed piece of ground of circumscribed 
 dimensions, and clogged with fragments of sculptured 
 stone, is a little green hillock, on the top of which stands 
 a small wooden eross. It marks the spot where the se* 
 pulchral tenants of this dignified cemetery —this West- 
 minster Abbey of France, were, in the annus dctestabilis 
 of ninety-three, flung into a deep hole, dug there for 
 that purpose. The bodies and bones of more than an 
 hundred personages, more or less renowned in history ; 
 statesmen, churchmen, warriors, princes and princesses, 
 queens and kings, were, in a ferocious hatred of the? 
 priesthood, of nobility, and of royalty ; and with a stiw 
 pid contempt for every thing gpeat and virtuous ; con* 
 signed to the same oblivious ignominy which attends 
 the scattered remnants of " the beasts that perish !" O 
 days of impiety — O deeds of sacrilege— provocatives of 
 divine vengeance on that guilty people of which ye 
 attest the mind-destroying change ; why have ye been 
 so circumstantially recorded? Why, in the same pit 
 where still u unhonoured lie" the illustrious dead of 
 France, were not committed, as to " dull forgetfulnes* 
 a prey," all details, and if possible all proof, of her 
 children's degeneracy and infamy ? Posterity might 
 hesitate in giving credence to the narrative of those 
 
155 
 
 transactions, of which the mere traditionary accounts 
 would scarcely be received as authentic, even at this 
 short period of time elapsed since their occurrence. — 
 But Monsieur Le Noir, who was present at the whole 
 proces, has published the disgusting yet curious parti- 
 culars. * It is worth white to note the originators of 
 that measure which (with his characteristic felicity and 
 emphasis of expression) Mr. Burke -called u anpl-umb* 
 ing the dead to assassinate the living," We might hear, 
 at least without surprise, that the incarnate fiends 
 whose delight was in crime, who rioted in the wreck 
 of property, and wantoned in the waste of human life ; 
 that those miscreants, urged by insatiate cupidity or 
 brutal curiosity, should have made no scruple of vio- 
 lating the awful recesses of the tomb. But these exhu- 
 mations were made by order of— the Committee of Public 
 Safety — popular representatives — professed opposers of 
 Vandalism 1 From these high-minded — consistent pa- 
 triots, and guardians of the public honour^ emanated the 
 decree for disinterring the departed, in order to appro- 
 priate the lead that enwrapped their skeletons and mum- 
 mies, to encrease the military resources of u the Great 
 Nation !" One exception, and only one, was made 
 in the general fate of these disturbed remains. Marshal. 
 Turenne's was saved ; and Citoyen Carnot, now Count 
 Carnot, afterwards made a blubbering oration over the 
 body of a hero, who, had he been alive, would have 
 deemed no dishonour so insupportable as that of being 
 the theme of a regicide's praise i No other distinction 
 Was made. Even the Great Henry of Navarre, though 
 so late a subject of panegyric, (whose corpse, like that 
 
 * Vide "Notes Histodques *ur les exhumations faites, en 1793, dans 
 I'Abbaye de Saint Denis." 
 
 X2 
 
156 
 
 of the brave victor of Turkheim, was found in ah almost 
 miraculous state of preservation), only served to furnish 
 a lock from its manly beard for a false moustachio, to 
 adorn the ferocious lip of some Sans culotte soldier.* 
 His reliques afterwards shared the same lot with those 
 of a Du Guesclin, a Francis the First, a Sieger, a 
 Saint Louis, and a Dagobert. Their bones now lie 
 mingled with the rest in one common fellowship of cor- 
 ruption and decay ; and the regards of the stranger are 
 permitted to dwell at leisure on a spot, where human 
 depravity has completed the humiliation of human 
 grandeur ! 
 
 Returning through the close and dirty streets of the 
 town of Saint Denis, we rode some way along the broad 
 avenue leading to the Bois de Boulogne : it is called the 
 Versailles road. Louis the Fourteenth, who never for- 
 got the day of the barricadoes, and the loyal conduct of 
 his good city of Paris, during the troubles of the Fronde, 
 not caring how seldom he resided in or passed through 
 it, used to go this way on public occasions from Ver- 
 sailles to the Abbey. On our arrival opposite Mont- 
 martre, we discharged our vehicle, and proceeded, 
 walking, across the open fields, which form a continua- 
 tion of the great plain of Aubervilliers, or Notre Dame 
 
 * The anecdote to which this observation refers, I shall subjoin, as a 
 curiosity of its kind, in M. Alexandre Le Nojr's own words. — " Un sol- 
 dat qui etait present(at the disinterment of the remains of King Henry 
 the Fourth) mu par un martial enthousiasme au moment de I'ouverture 
 du cercueil, se precipita sur le cadavre du vainqueur de la Ligue, et, 
 apres un long silence d'admiration, iltirason sabre, luicoupa une longue 
 meche de sa barbe, qui etait encore fraiche, s'ecria en meme terns, en 
 termes energiques et vraiment militaires : Et moi aussi,je suis soldat fran- 
 cais! Desormais je n'aurai plus d' autre moustache. En pla^ant cette 
 meche precieusesur sa levresuperieure: maintenant je suis sur devaincre 
 les ennemis de la France, et je marche a la Victoire, II se retiia! \ H 
 
157 
 
 de Verlus 9 where the grand Russian army was reviewed 
 last summer : and we ascended the heights near the 
 point where the allied troops made the principal assault, 
 in the sanguinary action, which gave them their first 
 possession of Paris (in 1814.) The land around this 
 side of Montmartre is a perfect garden : — vineyards, 
 orchards ; corn, clover, vegetables, gooseberry and 
 currant bushes, and vines, covering the rising grounds 
 with variegated patches, form so many grateful indica- 
 tions of restored tranquillity, and agricultural industry : 
 while, in scaling the steep rock of limestone, we trace 
 at every step the recent u form and pressure" of military 
 labours : half levelled entrenchments — banquettes for 
 musketry — platforms and embrasures for cannon — 
 houses (in what are technically called u good positions") 
 stripped of their roofs, and converted, by piercing their 
 walls with loop botes, into petty fortresses, — these and 
 other strong marks of the iron hand of war, constitute 
 the present peculiar features of Montmartre. A small 
 maison de plaisance, situated about two thirds of the 
 way up, exhibited a particularly striking epitome of 
 warlike desolation ; and its interior stucco, covered w ith 
 innumerable scribhlings in French, German, and Eng- 
 lish, told us who had been the last successive occupiers 
 of this forlorn and ruined habitation. The rock is every 
 where perforated with vast quarries, from whence the 
 gypsum is dug, so well known under the name of Plas- 
 ter of Paris. 
 
 From the top of the Church, the panorama amply 
 compensates for the exertion required in attaining it. — 
 The brilliant capital of France, spreading forth its fau- 
 bourgs, and touching with one of these suburban branches 
 the foot of our lofty situation, extends far and wide into 
 
158 
 
 the vast level below us. From this and other points of 
 superior elevation, to which one occasionally resorts for 
 enlarged views of the city of Paris, the transparency of 
 the air gives distinctness to almost the extreme verge of 
 the coup (Pceil: the different quarters of this great me* 
 tropolis are to be marked with precision, and the 
 architectural characters of its most conspicuous edifices 
 distinguished with a facility which communicates a 
 novel pleasure to eyes accustomed, as with us in Eng- 
 land, to an atmosphere surcharged with the dense va- 
 pours of a humid soil ; or still more heavily loaded with 
 the impregnation of sea coal smoke. In turning our 
 regards circuitously to the opposite segment of this cir- 
 cular picture, a fine champaigne country is seen, 
 bounded by hills, which, extending in the form of pro- 
 montories, produce an agreeable alternation of eminence 
 and valley ; and the blue tinge of ethereal warmth and 
 purity is imparted to the mountainous horizon of the 
 prospect. In the intermediate distances, however, the 
 uniformity of space is not sufficiently relieved : villages, 
 towns, and the more insulated habitations of men, are 
 scattered through the expanse with somewhat too nig* 
 gard a hand ; and amidst fields, fertile and well culti- 
 vated, one looks in vain for the inclosure that diversifies, 
 the verdure that enriches, and the luxuriance of foliage 
 that adorns the generality of our English prospects. 
 
 Between Montmartre and St. Denis, independent of 
 local proximity, there is a close historical connection; 
 the former being the scene of martyrdom, and the latter 
 the place of sepulture of the Apostle and Patron Saint 
 of France. Such are the associations of ancient days : 
 but may we not also recognize the ties of reference 
 between these two places^ in the still more interesting 
 
159 
 
 &tid irfiportant ctiain of modern transactions ? Ta my 
 own mind, still warmed, as I confess it was, by the con-* 
 templation of the cross-crowned tumulus, under the 
 walls of the Abbey we had just quitted, and still occu^ 
 pied with the ideas which it had inspired, the tow ers of 
 St. Denis, as 1 beheld them from the dismantled en* 
 trenchments of Montmartre, appeared like the principle 
 ascertained from the corollary ; like the primary cause 
 traced upwards from the ultimate effect. And as the 
 eye hung alternately on the near and distant features of 
 the material prospect, the glances of thought spontanea 
 ously reverted to corresponding points in the moral pic- 
 ture. The analogy seemed striking. There a scene of 
 shame and disgrace to France; here a memorial of her 
 punishment and humiliation. When, indeed, we 
 reflect on the spirit, operation, and result of a revolu^ 
 tion, which prophaned the Altar, subverted the Throne^ 
 and in its march from crime to crime led its infuriate 
 Votaries, from the completed work of havoc above 
 ground, down to the regions of the grave, to ransack th« 
 chambers and dishonour the ashes of the dead : when w© 
 consider the long unchecked career of its atrocities; and 
 the equally long-continued tide of its triumphs, attained 
 over every thing truly good, and great, and valuable, in 
 the community of mankind— when we reflect on this, and 
 then mark the re-acting power by which the huge fabric 
 of conquest and spoliation raised by that hideous and 
 intolerable system has at length been destroyed : in a 
 Word, when, looking back to the crisis of pillage, burn- 
 ings, massacres, and exhumations, we contrast their re- 
 volting images with the cheering character of those 
 events, which brought the victorious standards of united 
 Europe, to wave over the capital of her desolator and 
 
160 
 
 oppressor, shall not the feelings of gratitude prompt us 
 to exclaim — if there have been days of injustice and vio- 
 lence, there is also a day of retribution and of security ; 
 " Verily, there is a GOD, that judgeth the Earth!" 
 
 The Church of Montmartre is a very ancient, but not 
 a very handsome structure : it contains a small set of 
 trumpery pictures ((he altar piece, by the bye, is an 
 exception) — and there is a vast deal of what, in heretical 
 hearts like our own, excites all sorts of feelings save 
 those of devout faith and serious veneration, which they 
 are placed there expressly to excite. Besides the ge- 
 nuine and attested relics of SaintDENis, Saint Bridget, 
 and of our own sturdy English Monk, the Devil-pinch* 
 ing Saint Dunstan, we are edified with the exposition 
 of a Calvary : this latter is composed of a large Cross, 
 on which the figure of the Saviour, to the natural size, 
 is suspended. Over his head, at his feet, and by his 
 Side, are deposited the hi/ssop-stajf, the spear, the crown 
 of thorns, the nails, hammer, and St. Veronica 9 s hand- 
 kerchief — every one of which, on appointed festivals, 
 is kissed, and at all times adored by the bons catholiqms* 
 On these objects we looked with regret, not with con* 
 tempt or hatred — we regarded them as pitiable absurdi- 
 ties, not as unpardonable or detestable profanations.— 
 Convinced, by past experience, that the bigotry of in-* 
 fidelity is as fanatical and intolerant as that of monkery ; 
 that it has a spirit of persecution as virulent, as rapacn 
 ous, and as sanguinary, as ever was engendered in a 
 convent cell, or displayed itself in the secret halls of 
 the Inquisition, we felt (without being enamoured of 
 them), the more indulgence towards these symbols of 
 u superstition"" which being (as is wisely observed) 
 " the religion of feeble minds, they must be tolerated in 
 
161 
 
 an intermixture of it, in some trifling or some enthusi- 
 astic shape or other, else you deprive weak minds of a 
 resource lound necessary to the strongest."* 
 
 The side aisles and porches of the Church were used 
 as a magazine for bread, hay, and corn, by the English 
 garrison, to whom this important post, the key of Paris, 
 was last year confided; It had the former year been 
 used for the same purpose by the troops of all the five 
 allied nations; but each in turn shewed respect for the 
 sacred character and services of the place ; which was 
 more than was observed by the Patriots of ninety-two, 
 who levelled almost to the ground the adjoining Mo- 
 nastery. Except the extensive circuit of the garden 
 walls, delightfully situated, scarcely a vestige has been 
 spared of the Abbey ; from one of the windows of which, 
 as Sully tells us, King Henry the Fourth surveyed and 
 directed the operations of the dreadful night attack, that 
 put him in possession of all the faubourgs of the city at 
 once, during its memorable siege.— From the heights 
 of Montmartre, as the author of the Ilenriade finely 
 expresses it — ■ 
 
 " II contemplait Paris d'un teil triste et trmquille 
 §i Fran^ais, s'ecria-t-il, et toi, fatale ville, 
 
 Citoyens malheureux, peuple faible et sans foi, 
 u Jusqu' a quand roulez vous combattie votre roi ?" 
 
 The descent from Montmartre towards Paris, by & 
 steep zig zag path, presents the capital and its fine en- 
 virons in various pleasing points of view. At the foot 
 of the eminence, close to the entry of the suburb, is a 
 spacious quadrangular inclosure, the construction of 
 which was commenced by Buonaparte; and whieby 
 when finished, will unquestionably form one of the best 
 
 * Burke. 
 
 Y 
 
162 
 
 alterations that can be made for the health and clean- 
 liness of a great metropolis. It is a Tuerie and Abba- 
 toir — a place for graziers to feed, and for butchers to 
 slaughter their cattle in, for the Paris markets. There 
 are several others in different quarters of the outskirts 
 of the town. To what intolerable nuisances, and, I 
 may add, to what dangers are not the inhabitants of 
 London exposed, for the want of an establishment oa 
 similar principles, both as to locality and arrangement^ 
 
CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Faris — Ecole de Medecine — Palace of the Luxembourg-* 
 Jardin des Plantes—The Pantheon- -Visit to the Cata- 
 combs — Library of St, Genevieve — Churches of St. Sulpice 
 nnd St. Etknne du Mont — Parisian Catholicism* 
 
 May 30th and 31st, 
 
 We visited the Ecole de Medecine et de Chirurgerie^ 
 (situated in (he Rue des Cordeliers^ near Rue St. Jaques)^ 
 erected by Louis the Fifteenth into an united establish- 
 ment, and placed in an edifice of considerable extent, 
 and of great architectural merit. The facade towards 
 the street, and the peristyle in the court, are considered 
 as models of classic purity. The bass reliefs with which 
 they are decorated, allusive to the Esculapian Art, are 
 happily conceived and finely executed. Opposite the 
 front of the building is a fountain of modern date, and 
 of studied simplicity ; from which the water descends 
 through a perforation in the roof, like a shower-bath. 
 The interior contains a very fine amphitheatre for Lec- 
 tures, and several spacious shew rooms, &c. Besides 
 a library, and a collection of surgical instruments, it 
 possesses a very extensive Cabinet of Human Anatomy, 
 highly favourable, no doubt, to the views and researches 
 of t he physiological and surgical students. We observed 
 many of these young men availing themselves of the 
 opportunities here so gratuitously held out to them: 
 each examining, with book in hand, and eye intent, 
 the particular subject of his investigation, with a mind 
 so absorbed as to be proof against all attacks of inter* 
 
164 
 
 ruption, which, from the frequently too crowded state 
 of the rooms, are perpetually made qii his attention.— 
 Skeletons, dissections, prepared natural subjects, and 
 models in wax, the latter executed with an exactness 
 the most deceptive — all these, exhibiting both general 
 and partial views of the human frame, as well in the 
 morbid as in the healthy state, pourtrayed to us in a 
 manner almost too strong for our unprofessional nerves 
 — " how fearfully and wonderfully we are made !" 
 
 With every disposition, however, to commend the 
 easy access which is afforded to the public by the admi- 
 nistrators of the Parisian Institutions, I am still of opi- 
 nion, that considerations of high moral importance 
 demand exceptions, with respect to spme of them ; and 
 that those exceptions might, with the greatest propriety, 
 be extended to this School of Medicine and Surgery.— 
 It is impossible, indeed, to see boys, and even women y 
 inspired with no other possible motive than an ignorant 
 and indelicate curiosity, passing unrestrictedly through 
 the sacred portals of Science, and rashly prying into 
 the awful and mysterious secrets of Nature, without 
 one's wishing that difficulties such as those we had pre- 
 viously experienced in obtaining admission to the Mu~ 
 stum of the Louvre, had rather been opposed to the 
 very objectionable entrance of many of both sexes whom 
 we had the astonishment of meeting in this school. 
 
 Palais du Luxembourg. — This grand monument of 
 architecture, exhibiting a mixture of French and Italian 
 taste, built by an * architect of the former nation under 
 a t Princess of the latter country, was in 1802 repairing 
 for the Conservative Senate of Buonaparte. It is now 
 the Palace of the Chamber of Peers, apd few edifices 
 
 # Desbrpsses. f Maria de Medicis. 
 
165 
 
 of more regular and appropriate construction could be 
 selected for such a public purpose: the only objection 
 is its locality ; being approached through a dirty part 
 of the town, and too far removed from the Royal resi- 
 dence, and from the Lower House of Legislature. The 
 whole building, inside and out, has been greatly beau- 
 tified, the gardens enlarged and thrown open, are beyond 
 measure improved ; forming a striking contrast to the 
 general appearance of this arrondissement of Paris; 
 and adorned with basins, statues, and young planta- 
 tions, afford a promenade very little inferior to that of 
 the Thuilleries : it is a more tranquil but not less 
 agreeable place of resort; and the avenue from the 
 Palace, extended now as far as the Observatory, is an 
 uncommonly fine piece of perspective. We were dis- 
 appointed of seeing the handsome Salle des Seances, of 
 this French House of Lords : it not being the time of 
 Session, the reason or pretext for excluding strangers 
 was, that it was cleaning. The principal object of in* 
 terior attraction, however, is the collection of pictures, 
 statues, busts, &c. in the galleries; and of those we had 
 the gratification of passing some hours in the inspec- 
 tion. In the anti-chamber to the Gallery of Rubens, 
 are some of Phillipe de Champa? gne J s best productions, 
 both in point of design and colouring; among the rest, 
 The Supper at Simon's the Pharisee } s and The Last 
 Supper. — In the well known and universally ad- 
 mired collection painted by Rubens to illustrate the 
 chief transactions in the life of Marie de Medicis y 
 (wife of Henry the Fourth and mother of Louis XIII.) 
 there are such striking proofs both of knowledge, 
 and of imagination, that it well deserves to be called the 
 " Poem" of that astonishing Genius. Had there been 
 
166 
 
 less of Allegory and more of History ; and had the van* 
 quisher of the League, instead of the Cardinalized Re- 
 gency of his widowed Queen been the subject of hi» 
 glorious pencil, this superb series would have been in- 
 finitely enhanced in value before the eyes of posterity : 
 but as it is, they are master pieces of composition, ex- 
 pression, and colouring; such as one is scarcely to be 
 satiated with beholding. In this gallery, are two of 
 David's works, esteemed among his best, viz. his Bru- 
 tus, and his Serment des Horaces. J leave it to the 
 admirers of that able artist to reconcile to themselves 
 his choice of subjects, which do not and cannot u ex* 
 plain themselves. 91 David seems, to me, a painter with- 
 out a heart. A man ungifted with feeling may delineate 
 and clothe excellent statues, may present in perfection 
 the symmetry of bloodless forms ; but to give them 
 the transparency, the warmth, the glow of intelligence 
 and vivacity, the tenderness and force of expression, 
 requires a soul impressed with the most delicate as well as 
 the truest touches of sensibility ; and endowed with the 
 most amiable as well as the most accurate perceptions of 
 the human character. From these apartments we proceed 
 to the Gallery which contains VerneVs masterly and 
 delightful paintings of the Ports o f France : among 
 these, the views of Marseilles, Toulon, Brest, Bour- 
 deaux,Malo, Antibes, and Dieppe, are particularly fine. 
 This series has been continued since the Revolution by 
 Citoyen Hue, who has, in opposition to the ancien 
 regime of his greater predecessor, given a republican 
 feature to all his subjects. A very favourite event with 
 the French naval painters is the engagement be- 
 tween the Baionnaise and the Ambuscade, in the year 
 96 : this sea victory of theirs over us was a subject to 
 
167 
 
 fnake the most of, and accordingly it is multiplied at Ver- 
 sailles, the Thuilleries, and the Luxembourg. It 
 puts one in mind of the fable of the Man and the Lion. 
 The third compartment, is the gallery which comprises 
 the chefs (Tcewcre of Le Sueur, a series not the least 
 meritorious of the whole, formerly belonging to the 
 cloister of the Chartreux, and which represents the 
 legendary history of Saint Bruno, the founder of tha$ 
 gloomily religious order. The simplicity and grace, the 
 freedom and accuracy of pencil, that pervade the works 
 of Le Sueur, impart a charm to the eye and to the 
 mind, which not only forbids one to regret the cold and 
 uniform complexion of his colouring, but even reconciles 
 one to a subject very far from possessing a just claim to 
 so great a share of attention and ability, as that which 
 the u Raphael of France" has bestowed upon it. 
 
 The farthest point of this day's perambulation, was 
 the Jardin des Plantes — an establishment of which the 
 extent, variety, and utility to the naturalist, are not suf- 
 ficiently expressed by its designation. It is a second 
 Eden, where the fruits of the earth, the beasts of the 
 field and forest, and the fowls of the air, seem brought 
 by an ordaining hand into a focus of concentration, for 
 Man to dress and cultivate the one, and to name and 
 study the other. Extending over a prodigious space of 
 ground, it encloses a Garden of Botany and of Agricul- 
 ture, with the most ornamental display of shrubs and 
 flowers — the rarest plants and the most common vege- 
 table productions — in large conservatories, or in open 
 beds. A spot congenial to the growth of aquatic plants, 
 is stocked with every description of water-fowl. And 
 as the nursery grounds and orchards comprise the accu- 
 mulated tributes both of this and foreign soils — so the 
 
168 
 
 Menagerie presents # general view of quadrupeds and 
 birds, from the lordly lion and the eagle of the sun to 
 the spaniel and the barn-door fowl Some of the savage 
 animals, such as bears and wild boars, are kept in deep 
 pits. The sentinel at one of these places, told us rather 
 a shocking anecdote of one of the bears, whom we ob- 
 served limping out of his den : — About two years back, 
 a soldier on guard dropped his bayonet into the fosse, 
 which is about 30 feet deep, and thought, no doubt, as 
 it was dark, that he might venture down to regain it % 
 but the poor fellow had no sooner descended than he 
 was attacked by the bear ; and in the morning his bones 
 were found strewed at the bottom of the pit. Shortly 
 after the same ferocious brute, in climbing up one of the 
 trees, placed in the middle of the inclosure, in pursuit 
 of a cat which had gained the summit, fell down and 
 broke his thigh. There is a very noble elephant, nine 
 feet in height, a female : she has a house of proper di- 
 mensions for her reception, surrounded by a spacious 
 court, fenced in with high and strong palisadoes. 
 Amongtheseveralembellishments which render this place 
 delightful, is an eminence, called Le Mont du Pavilion 
 ( de Bujfon) whence a very excellent view is afforded 
 both of the magnificent structures of the Capital, and the 
 objects of the surrounding country —Of the Cabinet of 
 Natural History, it requires a scientific pen to charac- 
 terise the perfection of arrangement, and to appreciate 
 the value. I shall not venture to do more than express 
 the pleasure which it affords and the admiration it 
 excites, even on a transient inspection, to minds pos- 
 sessed of any thing like intelligence and capacity for 
 contemplating the wonders of a Creator's hand. The 
 minerals and fossils,, methodised and classed by the 
 
169 
 
 celebrated Cuvier, are a superb collection, though ap* 
 parently not so extensive as that in the British Museum. 
 A pair of enormously large antlers, in the fossil state, are 
 inscribed as having been found in Ireland, and presented 
 by the British Museum to Cuvier. The fish and reptiles 
 are admirably preserved : among these are a monstrous 
 fish, of a non-descript species, thrown on shore, some 
 years ago, at Dieppe ; and two or three enormous 
 specimens of the Boa. Bullock's peculiar method of 
 exhibiting this terrific serpent is preferable to the man- 
 ner here adopted. Among the beasts and birds, which 
 are also well preserved, are some grand specimens of 
 the ostrich, eagle, and those of beautiful plumage — a 
 Hippopotamos, a Rhinoceros, and that extraordinary 
 quadruped the Cameleopard, brought over by Vaillant ; 
 it is at least twelve feet from the hoof of the fore foot toJ 
 the crown of its head, standing in an erect posture, while 
 its haunches do not stand higher than those of a mode- 
 rate sized mule. There is a half-naked statue of Buffon, 
 and a stark-naked statue of Truth, in these Galleries, 
 where, although crowded with company on public 
 days, the most perfect order reigns. Admission is unat- 
 tended with any preliminary form except that of leav- 
 ing sticks and umbrellas : and on the whole, whether 
 for the agreeable nature of the promenade, or for the 
 infinite diversity of character among the spectators, a 
 visit to the J ardin des Plantes constitutes an object of 
 superior rationality and attraction. At the extremity 
 of the Gardens is the bridge named by Buonaparte Le 
 Pont d'Austerlitz, the foundations of which were laid 
 when I was here before ; it was finished in 1807, and is 
 a great convenience and ornament to this quarter of 
 Paris. The piers and buttresses of this handsome struo 
 
 Z 
 
170 
 
 ture are of stone, and its arches, five in number, are of 
 cast iron. Like all the other new bridges, a toll is 
 paid on it by carriages and foot passengers. 
 
 May 31st. — This morning, resuming our course 
 through the populous but dirty suburbs of St. Jacques 
 and St MarcelfVte proceeded to the new Church of 
 Sainte Genevieve, the Pantheon of (Revolutionary) 
 France, expecting to find it present the brilliant 
 spectacle of a finished chefd'ceuvre of architecture ; its 
 interior resplendent in Corinthian polish, and filled 
 with the choicest labours of statuary and of the pencil, 
 memorial tributes rendered " aux grands hommes," 
 by 66 La Patrie Reconnoisante," to use u the words 
 of promise" inscribed on the entablature of the portal. 
 In these anticipations, however, we were disappointed. 
 The new Sainte Genevieve (for it has since been re- 
 stored to its original name and destination) commenced 
 under the reign of Louis XV.* is still in the hands of 
 the artificers, encumbered with the whole apparatus 
 of scaffolds, centres, and supporters of timber and 
 masonry. As this was its apparent state in 1802, I was 
 proceeding, in my own mind, to set it down among 
 the instances which may be found, wherein the modem 
 French evince greater fondness for beginning anew, than 
 for completing what has been interrupted in its accom- 
 plishment: such a conclusion, however, would have 
 been an injustice to them in this case, for on inquiring 
 of the concierge, we learnt, that about seven or eight 
 years ago the works were so nearly brought to a termi- 
 nation, that this fine building was to have been conse- 
 crated and opened with great eclat, when tremendous 
 fractures were discovered in the too light and feeble 
 
 * 1761, by the architect Soufflot. 
 
171 
 
 pillars that support the dome. Ever since this un- 
 fortunate occurrence, the most able architects and the 
 most skilful builders have been employed and still con- 
 tinue their endeayours to remedy these dangerous de- 
 fects. In consequence, the interior is divested of orna- 
 ment, except thd beautiful circle of Mosaic pavement, 
 in marble, under the dome, and a statue of the late 
 General Le Clerc : nor was it permitted us to ascend 
 the dome, so majestic an elevation, and so grand a point 
 of view. We visited, however, the subterranean 
 Church, under the nave, where I found my old friends 
 the wooden monuments of Voltaire and Rousseau, very 
 much the worse for the worms, since my visit to them in 
 1802. These paltry sarcophagi are almost rotten. A 
 plaster statue of Voltaire stands opposite his ; Rousseau's 
 is not in like manner illustrated. When these person- 
 ages, according to the Pagan custom revived by the 
 illuminated geniuses of the year One, (who reversing the 
 fate of the Rotonda at Rome, converted a Christian 
 church into a Heathen temple) received the honours of 
 apotheosis, it was the fashion to pulverise marble, and 
 melt down bronze, in order that some regenerative 
 phoenix in timber or chalk might proudly rise in their 
 place ! But we were a little surprised to see the tomb 
 of the brave Duke de Montebello (Marshal Lasnes) 
 whose dying words on the bloody field of Asperne were 
 recorded by Napoleon with so deep an expression of 
 regret for his loss — we were surprised to see the tomb of 
 the Emperor's friend, constructed of nothing better than 
 these painted boards I The caveaux of this soutterain 
 consist of four or five little cramped-up holes, against 
 the walls of which are piled up one above another, like 
 
 milliners' band-boxes ; the tombeaux of sundry officers 
 
 Z2 
 
172 
 
 of the Ex-imperial Government, ecclesiastical, civil p 
 and military, and various other " Great Men ," of no 
 sort of consequence but as having been senators and 
 members of the Legion of Honour. So much for the 
 lower chambers of the Pantheon, intended like the supe- 
 rior parts of this (with all its faults and defects) very 
 beautiful structure to imitate the antique : and to speak 
 correctly, these subterranean chambers of the dead, 
 bearing a close analogy to the method of Roman Sepul- 
 ture, (as described by those who have visited the cele- 
 brated funereal grottos of Italy) are the real Catacombs 
 of Paris. The extensive and profound quarries, at the 
 southernmost extremity of the same quarter of the 
 capital, which go under that denomination, being no 
 other than a vast charnel or rather bone house. 
 
 These soi-disant Catacombs, nevertheless, were to be 
 visited. Every body now goes to see the Catacombs— 
 formerly nobody knew there was such a place.— 
 Leaving the Pantheon, therefore, we trudged along 
 somewhat beyond the Observatory, to the end of Rue 
 tfEnfer (appropriate enough), near which is the en- 
 trance to these infernal regions. After waiting the best 
 part of an hour, we found ourselves assembled with be- 
 tween sixty and seventy persons of both sexes : a consi- 
 derable portion of them English, who have so completely 
 set the vogue of this " Dance of Death," that I should 
 not be surprised to see it in the Parisian Affiches des 
 Spectacles ! In our small party were several handsome 
 and genteel ladies, English and French. We were ush- 
 ered into a small stone lodge, and descending by a very 
 narrow staircase to the depth of sixty or seventy feet, 
 each with a lighted taper in our hands, we proceeded 
 through the windings of an immense cavern, formed by 
 
173 
 
 the quarries from which stone has for centuries been dug 
 for the building of Paris and places in its neighbourhood. 
 A black line marked along the roof serves as a clue 
 through this frightful labyrinth ; in which having, by 
 the surer and more satisfactory aid of our guide, ad- 
 vanced some 200 paces, with excavations intersecting 
 our path at right angles, that ever and anon presented 
 masses of rock overhanging each other, in tremendous 
 jeopardy, we arrive at the portal of the Catacombs.— 
 The door, surmounted with these appalling words — 
 Arrete, c'est ici, V Empire de la Mort — is opened ; we 
 enter ; and a most extraordinary sight is beheld : Along 
 the walls of the spacious galleries, and encasing the 
 pillars of unhewn stone that support the vaults of these 
 crypts, prodigious piles of human bones offer themselves 
 to the view, curiously and methodically arranged : the 
 skulls forming a sort of cornice and beading to the mass 
 thrown behind, with thigh and arm bones crossed be- 
 tween thenu In this manner the remains of about two 
 millions four hundred thousand human beings have been 
 deposited, since the year 1786, when the pestilential 
 state of the church-yards in Paris, rendered it necessary 
 to remove the half-consumed relics of many ages into 
 these gloomy mansions ; and the revolution subsequently 
 added greatly to the mouldering heaps, from the far less 
 justifiable exhumations in the suppressed churches.— 
 The different divisions are marked by tablets simply 
 specifying the Cemeteries from which the bones were 
 taken ; such as those of Saint Esprit,* the Innocents, t 
 &c. The unhappy victims of the September massacres 
 repose in a small recess, which our conductor seemed 
 
 * Ossemens du Cemetiere du St. Esprit, 1804. 
 f Ossemens du Cemetiere des Innocens, 1787. 
 
174 
 
 willing enough to hurry by ; but there was something 
 too peculiar in the features of the spot to pass it unno- 
 ticed. The following tablet affixed to the wall which 
 enshrines the bones of this hecatomb, sacrificed to the 
 Moloch of Jacobinism, accords in its mysterious obscu- 
 rity with those dark deeds of horror to which it bears 
 reference D • M 
 
 II ET III 
 
 September 
 M.DCCXCII. 
 At the further extremity of the Catacombs is a small 
 Chapel, constructed and decorated (if I may so express 
 it) with similar emblems and reliques of mortality. 
 Over the altar of this sepulchral place of worship stood 
 the sign of that Divine Faith which deprives Death of 
 his sting, and confers the triumph of victory over the 
 power of the Grave. At the foot of the cross lies this 
 inscription — " Silence! Etres mortels ; et vous vairtes 
 Grandeurs ; Silence, c*est ici, les sejoursde la Mort!"* 
 
 * Among other sentences, which I copied as I went along, were the 
 following : — " Has ultra met as requiescunt beatam spem expectantes" — 
 " Intense que vous Stes, pourquoi vous promettez vous de vivre long 
 terns, qui ne ponvez compter snr un seul jour." — "Canet tuba, et mortui 
 resurganty #c"— oalYS f^^vomv m* avtya(riv eux^ 'ctcurQai 
 Non /as est mortuis insultare." — " C'est une impiete que iViusuller 
 aux morts—Hom. Odys. x*i\. y} — " Ou est elle, la Mort f Toujours 
 future ou pas*ee, a peine est elle present, que deja elle n'est plus."'—' 
 "Memento Homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulvere revertebis." — "Finis 
 et Principium — Eternitas." — Protegez les tombeaux, c'est honorer les 
 morts.—T)E Lille." — " Nos jours sont un instant, c'est la feuille qui 
 tombe. — Ducris." 
 
 44 Notre sol n'esi forme que de poussiere humaine 
 
 i( Songe done, quelqne soit le motif qui Vamene, 
 
 u Que tespieds vont ici fouler a chaque pas, 
 
 " Un itre infortune, vie time du trepas." 
 Two or three of the apothegms of the Encyclopedists — inculcating their 
 
175 
 
 The constituent features of the scene before my eyes 
 were strikingly opposed to each other. So many people 
 of both sexes making a long procession through the 
 fearful meanderings of a chalky cavern, from the pores 
 of which the water oosing on all sides reflected in 
 glittering chrystals the illumination produced by our 
 flambeaux. Occasionally, when our conductor stopped 
 to give his explanations, the numerous party breaking 
 into many groupes, and moving in different directions, 
 produced a singular picture : the little candles, darting 
 their u ineffectual fires" upon the awful masses of impe- 
 netrable shade, served only to render " darkness visible." 
 It was a trial of contrasts — the horror-struck counte- 
 nances of some were opposed to the ill-timed frivolity 
 of gesture and discourse indulged in by others : rows on 
 rows of chapless jaws grinning contempt on our cu- 
 riosity, and coated with the unbleached livery of the 
 charnel-house, mocked the alabaster skins and blooming 
 cheeks, and sparkling eyes of the ladies— telling them, 
 and all of us, that " to this favour we must come at last" 
 that 
 
 " Nothing can we call our own but Death, 
 " And that small model of the barren earth 
 " That serves as paste and cover to our bones. 7 ' 
 
 Yet the sentiments neither of respect nor of fear, though 
 enforced by a sight (which one would be apt to sup- 
 pose) so powerfully calculated to shock ; to humiliate ; 
 to fill the mind with deep revolving thoughts on time, 
 on judgment, on eternity — could repress the spirit of 
 
 false unconsoling philosophy — their unholy revolting doctrine of annihila- 
 tion are permitted to mingle with these admonirorv inscriptions, such as 
 ¥ Omne consummatum est " Tout est consomme." — " La Al or t est un 
 sommeil eternel," 
 
m 
 
 jesting in some of the Frenchmen of our company. One 
 of these more merry than wise Parisians, stopping short 
 before a skull, which had an unusual amplitude and 
 elongation of form, exclaimed to his neighbour — " Tenez, 
 mon ami ; voyez vous bien ; celle-ci doit etre la tete (Pun 
 Juge — oui, vraiment (continued he, clapping his hand 
 rudely on it, and chuckling at his own volatile conceit) 
 c'est la tete (Tun Grand Juge /" Presently after, stick- 
 ing his finger into a carious orifice in the frontal bone 
 of another skull, he made a remark, not so fit to be re- 
 peated, in allusion to the imputed irregularities of the 
 Carmelite ordqr of Friars. Consigning to reprobation 
 these " jokes of shallow wit," and the fools that laughed 
 at them, I am obliged at the same time to acknowledge, 
 that if the design of these architectural ossifications — 
 these prodigious works in human mosaic^ be to produce 
 an extraordinarily deep impression of reverence for de- 
 parted generations, and of sentimental interest in the 
 concerns of a future state, my own feelings were not 
 sufficiently susceptible of the influence of the place, to 
 assume the melancholy frame, at least to an enthusiastic^ 
 extent, nor to retain it long in any degree. After the 
 surprise of novelty was over, and I had passed the first 
 few thousands of the two millions of skulls, I began to 
 think I saw too much of " artificialness" in thus ex- 
 posing the mementos of our fallen nature. No discri- 
 mination of individual remains to break the tedious 
 lengthened tenour of multitudinous uniformity— no 
 sculptured bust ; no storied urn ; no epitaph to virtue or 
 to fame — u continuing the regards and connections of life 
 beyond the grave,"* it was indeed the striking equality % 
 but not the instructive moral of Death, I was soou 
 
 * Buike. 
 
177 
 
 enabled to muster a quantum sufficit of cold blooded at- 
 tention to look on it " like a scene of this world." — 
 And, in short, when I found in one compartment a CoU 
 lection of Minerals, and in another a Cabinet of Osteology, 
 my ideas required little more to recal them to the tech- 
 nical sobriety of philosophic inquisitiveness ; and the 
 Catacombs of Paris seemed to me to possess the merit of 
 as ingenious a classif cation, and of an effect as analogical, 
 as that which distinguishes its other Museums! We 
 returned by a different way to the one we came ; and 
 after making a circuit of some hundred yards, arrived 
 again at the staircase where we entered, having occupied 
 in our visit an interval of about 50 minutes Our guide, 
 observing that I remained sometimes in rear of the 
 others, transcribing the tablets on the walls, told me, 
 by way of caution, of two Prussians who had last year 
 been locked up there the whole of one night. Indeed, 
 without proper attention, there is great liability of being 
 lost, owing to the sudden turns, and continual intersec- 
 tions of the main path by others which lead as well to 
 old excavations, as to quarries still in use. To guard 
 as much as possible against such dangers, directions to 
 " The Staircase" are put up at proper distances, and 
 the conductor counts the visitors both at the entrance 
 into, and exit from " this vale of the King of Terrors." 
 At proper intervals, ventilators, communicating with 
 the outward air, afford a salutary refreshment to the 
 lungs ; which, notwithstanding the dry and cleansed 
 state of the bones, would otherwise be oppressively af- 
 fected by so enormous an accumulation of decayed ani- 
 mal substances. 
 
 On our return we walked through the Library of 
 Sainte Genevieve, in the old abbatial house of that mo- 
 
 A a 
 
178 
 
 Mastic establishment. It contains 80,000 volumes, and 
 offers every accommodation to the stranger's research. 
 We found indeed a much larger number of readers, in 
 proportion to the size of the Library, than at the 
 Biblioiheque du Roi. The Sub-librarians were particu- 
 larly civil and attentive. The different galleries are 
 ornamented by busts after the antique, and others repre- 
 senting the great men of more modern times, executed 
 by Coj/sevox and Girardon. A plan, in model, of the 
 city of Rome, one inch for 90 feet scale, by Grimani $ 
 1776. A series of Portraits of the Kings of France, 
 from Louis IX. to Louis XIV. 
 
 We also visited the two parochial churches of St. 
 Sulpice and St. Etienne du Mont. The former is the 
 grandest in Paris : and the mass of unsightly old houses 
 opposite the western front having been entirely cleared 
 away (the area of which is now embellished with a 
 fountain) the noble architecture, and beautiful propor- 
 tions of the facade ?, * are beheld to admiration. The in- 
 ferior has an aspect equally worthy of a Christian 
 Temple : it is majestic, costly — free from taudry decora- 
 tions — the high altar finely formed and disposed— 
 the choir, before it^ sumptuously ornamented with 
 sculptured and carved work: and the circular end of 
 the choir, opening to the Chapel of u Our Lady" 
 displays with magical effect a delightful group of sta- 
 tuary, t The construction of this little Chapel is so 
 
 * By Servandoni. 
 f Tfie skilful fiand of the Sculptor has placed in a niche, lighted from 
 above, a pure white marhle statue of the Virgin, bearing the Infant Jesus 
 in her arms. She stands on a globe ; a dying serpent lies trodden under 
 her feet ; her figure is replete with grace and beauty ; and her counte- 
 nance, beaming with benignant sweetness, is directed towards the spec- 
 tator to whose view she olVer& tiie lovely child as the proper object of his 
 
179 
 
 elegant, its materials so rich, and its ornamental coa* 
 stituents so complete, that I know of no object of art 
 connected with the ecclesiastical edifices that adorn the 
 French capital, more deserving the contemplation of an 
 admirer of the beau ideal. 
 
 St. Etienne du Mont is a very curious church, of ex- 
 ceedingly ancient foundation, but has undergone many 
 restorations both inside and out. It has a most beau- 
 tiful piece of stone work in its jube, or rood loft, and the 
 two ingenious staircases that lead up to it, of the same 
 materials : also a pulpit of wood, finely carved ; the 
 figures of the Cardinal virtues, and the Atlas which 
 supports it, are in a superior stile of design and execu- 
 tion.* This church also contains one of the finest 
 organs in Paris : it is still rich in sculptural ornaments, 
 
 regard and adoration; a body of clouds occupying: the inner space of 
 the recess, covers half the globe, on which the group is supported, and, 
 *' light as air" seems about to float into the Chapel itself. The decepfio 
 visus thus produced by a judicious diffusion of light upon the artistes work, 
 is indeed of that extraordinai y kind, of which mere verbal description 
 must ever fail to convey an adequate idea. The Dome of the Chapel is 
 •pen at the top, and through the circular apert ure is seen, as if in the sky f 
 the assumption of the Virgin into Heaven. Arrayed in rele?tial splen- 
 dour, and seated amidst a host of angelic forms, the mother of Jesus 
 (ixes her regards on i he supernal glory of the Triune Deity. In gradation 
 below her appear the Apostles and other Saints ; and in a still inferior 
 position of the picture are seen mitred and crowned heads, mixing with 
 a crowd of adoring mortals, and pointing up to the. Mater Internet at a as 
 to their great patroness and never-failing hope. The design is «rand, the 
 execution admirable, and the effect managed with surprising art: but it 
 is produced somewhat at the expert of perspective truth j for the lower 
 circle of figures is made to stand on the earth, whereas from the sup- 
 posed point of sight none but ethereal objects should be visible. This, 
 however, is an impropriety common t© most ceiling- painting- $ and the 
 perception of it in this instance is almost lost in couteaipla i g the sub- 
 lime and beautiful features of the pictorial seene.— Journal oj 1S0& 
 * By Es;ochard. 
 
 AaS 
 
180 
 
 though its most illustrious subjects, both of the chissel 
 and pencil, are gone to decorate the Louvre and the 
 Monumental Museum. To make amends for the lost 
 tombs of Le Sueur, Racine, Pascal > &c. who were buried 
 in this Church, the reliques and sarcophagus of Sainte 
 Genevieve are deposited here, and the side aisles are 
 honoured by two pictures, (by Largiliere) in which the 
 Parliament m solemn state and full flowing wigs as- 
 sembled, are acknowledging the efficacious interpo- 
 sition of the Holy Maid who " twice saved Paris !" 
 A proces verbal affixed to her shrine, illuminated with 
 many tapers, identifies to u the faithful" (aux f deles) 
 the existence of her genuine remains, preserved by 
 pious hands from infidel profanation, within their 
 ancient repository; and the small lateral chapel in 
 which it stands was filled with persons (chiefly women) 
 paying fervent adoration at her altar. And here, 
 met h inks, I hear some vehement English Anti-Bour- 
 bonist exclaim, " Aye, these are among the blessed con* 
 sequences of restoring legitimate Government : that 
 precious legitimacy that brings with it priestcraft, and 
 all the mummeries of superstition in its train ! n Not so 
 fast, honest friend, not quite so fast: these same things 
 were re-established long before Louis the Eighteenth 
 came back. Why myself, even /, can recognise some 
 of them as old acquaintances* The Concordat (be it 
 recollected) between Buonaparte and the Pope, re- 
 opened the French Churches, and restored the 
 Romish worship, of which such objects and ceremo- 
 nies are constituent parts. Catholicism was the pro- 
 fessed state religion of Ex-Imperial France. But really, 
 to hear some folks talk in England, it would seem that 
 they themselves believed, or wished it to be believed 
 
181 
 
 by others, that instead of a topsy-turvy Revolution^ 
 there had been no other than a sober, quiets moderate 
 reformation of affairs, spiritual as well as political, in 
 France : yet is it a fact, no less notorious and authentic 
 than diametrically opposed to such notions, that Napo- 
 leon, succeeding to the power of those impious Men 
 who decreed the total abolition of Christianity, found 
 it necessary, among the first measures of his Consular 
 Bepublican authority, to proclaim the Roman and 
 Apostolic Church, as restored to its functions, to be the 
 National Faith. In doing this he took care indeed to 
 divest it of every species of influence incompatible with 
 his governmental policy; but he left the Mass, tha 
 Holy Water^ the Reliquiary, the Crucifix (objects so 
 unpleasing to Protestant eyes) just in their former 
 hopeful state! And so much for the religious benefits 
 derived from the Revolution to France. The tempest 
 that fell on her devoted plains was horrible and wasteful, 
 beyond all parallel of precedent and all power of de- 
 scription ; but it left the atmosphere as impure and un- 
 settled as before. In this, among other respects, we 
 may say — Happier England, where a similar reign of 
 terror ', was rendered subservient to the eventual con- 
 firmation of a salutary change: thanks, not to the 
 work of rash and selfish and tyrannic Man, but to the 
 dispensations of that wise and controuling Providence, 
 which can alone produce good from evil, and u out of 
 darkness call up light." 
 
182 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Excursion to Vincennes. — The Castle — Remains of the 
 Duke of Enghien lying there in state — Remarks on the 
 murder of that unf ortunate Prince, 
 
 June 1st* 
 
 ^1 HIS morning we proceeded in a cabriolet for Vin* 
 cemies* about a league distant from Paris On passing 
 lb rough the Barriere du Trone, we noticed that a great 
 many of the trees which line both sides of that broad 
 and handsome avenue, were either reduced to mere 
 stumps, or had their branches knocked off. Our driver 
 informed us, that they were some of the least serious 
 among the cousequences of a cannonade between the 
 Allied columns of attack and part of the garrison of 
 Paris, in 1814 : he also pointed out the bank and ditch 
 of the little battery, where the spirited young artillerists 
 of the polytechnic school played their part, in the vain 
 attempt to defend this approach to the capital, and 
 where the loss of lives on both sides must have been 
 considerable, to judge merely from the mounds of earth 
 near the spot, which " our deponent further said" were 
 f< fj ie graves of the Russians!" 
 
 On our arrival at Vincennes, we learnt from the 
 sentries on du'y at the gate, that no one was allowed to 
 enter the Castle without a written permission from the 
 Governor, Marquis de Puyvert, then at Paris. We 
 attributed this refusal (at the time) to their jealousy of 
 foreigners, as the place is a depot of artillery, and even 
 the Chapel is turned into a Salle d'Armes ; but we were 
 
183 
 
 afterwards informed by a Royalist friend, that the Ordef 
 for excluding the public from the interior of the fortress 
 was given in consequence of some lately detected plots 1 
 of the disaffected against Hie garrison. We were, 
 therefore obliged to content ourselves with using the 
 privilege of " an outside ticket in other words we 
 proceeded in a promenade round the walls, wheh oc- 
 cupy a large area of ground ; standing almost encom- 
 passed by the forest, where the ninth Louis, that great 
 and just King, whose piety of heart and integrity of 
 conduct entitled him to the Sainted Name, (for " even 
 his failings leant to Virtue's side,") was accustomed to 
 sit beneath the oak's protecting shade, and administer 
 wise and equal laws to a simple mannered and obedient 
 people. 
 
 The Castle consists of an ancient and a modern part ; 
 and so different is its aspect, according to the side on 
 which it is approached, that it would cause the black 
 and the white knights (in the story I remember reading 
 when a boy) to dispute and combat about whether it was 
 Gothic or Grecian, as obstinately as they did about 
 the shield, which was gold on one face and silver on the 
 other. The east facade is of as late an architecture as 
 Francis the First ; but the western front, and the two 
 other sides of the parrallelogram, date themselves as 
 early as the fourteenth century, and offer a stupendous 
 specimen of the castellated palaces of feudal times, 
 where the Monarchs and great Lords used to " keep 
 wassel,"and solace themselves with pleasures as coarse 
 as the scene of their festivity was gloomy. Here we 
 have Ballium, Ditch, and Barbican — Drawbridge and 
 Portcullised Gate, garnished with the thunder of 
 modern war. The lofty towers and the massy curtain 
 
184 
 
 Milch they support, perforated at intervals with em- 
 brasures, discover the mouths of cannon : but the com- 
 bination serves only to display in its proper light the 
 ridiculous gasconade of the officer who pretended, 
 during the last invasion, that he would hold out the 
 place against the Allies ; although coming as they would 
 have done, (had the object been worth powder and sh ot) 
 with somewhat more powerful machines than the rams, 
 balistas, and moveable towers of ancient engineers, they 
 might soon have knocked its defenders on the head 
 with fragments of their own ponderous masonry. 
 
 Close to the northern angle rises the high tower, 
 called the Donjon, or keep ; the place of durance to 
 many a victim of princely despotism, or of ministerial 
 hatred. The Castle of Vincennes was a state prison 
 long before the revolution. It was afterwards one of 
 Buonaparte's Bastilles; and, indeed, a principal ob- 
 ject of this visit was to cast our regards over the burial 
 place of an illustrious unfortunate, who, just twelve 
 years ago, was dragged away from a peaceful asylum, 
 and plunged into this abode of despair, at the lawless 
 will of the tyrant. On this point our wish was gratified ; 
 for on further enquiry we found, although it was 
 prohibited to enter the interior Court, yet that the re- 
 mains of the Duke of Enghien were still lying in state, 
 in the chamber over the southern gate house, for public 
 inspection. In the broad and deep fosse, on the same 
 side of the Castle, at the foot of one of the towers, about 
 a hundred yards from the draw-bridge, is the hole where 
 the executioners threw the body of the grandson of 
 Conde (like that of a dog) after he was shot. It is 
 distinguished only by a piece of wood at one extremity, 
 and the appearance of the green turf, which covered 
 
18o 
 
 it, having been recently disturbed. In fact, th£ 
 grave was opened by the King's order, on the 20th 
 of March last, in presence of Commissioners, and 
 the various fragments of the body, carefully collected., 
 with parts of the dress identified, were put into a leaden 
 coffin, and conveyed to the chamber prepared for theit 
 reception. This apartment, of dimensions not exceed- 
 ing 14 feet square, the attendants told us, was the place 
 of his mock trial, and where the unprincipled and pre- 
 determined Judges condemned their gallant captive to 
 death. In this narrow cell, by the glimmering light of 
 tapers, placed before a small altar of the Virgin, we saw 
 the coffin, half concealed behind a canopy of scarlet 
 and gold, embroidered with the arms of Bourbon. Op- 
 posite the altar was a large stone, which (as they in- 
 formed us also) was found in the hole lying on the top 
 of the skull. A bust of the ill-fated Prince stood on a 
 table in front of the coffin : and its handsome and ex- 
 pressive features corresponded with the spirit and intel- 
 ligence which were said to distinguish the original. 
 
 These solemn objects of religion — these relics of mor- 
 tality — this display of funereal pomp — Were impressive ; 
 were affecting. The atrocious act ; the melancholy 
 event, to which they bore reference, had already occu- 
 pied our minds : and could we behold them without 
 emotion ? Could we quit the scene, to which our curio- 
 sity had led us, without acknowledging that our sensi- 
 bility was touched by these respectful, though long 
 deferred rites, paid to the memory of one whose birth 
 and rank had promised to his youth a happier destiny ; 
 and whose heroic qualities would have inspired senti- 
 ments of consideration and clemency in a gemrous 
 enemy ? But the heart that could engender the pla» 
 
 Bb 
 
186 
 
 for the Duke of Errghien's arrest and death, violating 
 as it did both the law of nations and the rights of hu- 
 manity — that heart, equally a foe to justice and good 
 faith, could never be expected to appretiate merit, to 
 sympathise with misfortune, or to own the soft influence 
 of compassion. Ambition— that " sin by which the 
 Angels fell," will urge men on to great crimes and cru- 
 elties ; and Fear will prompt them to the commission of 
 others, in order to secure the object once attained. But 
 neither ambition, nor fear, could have been the passion 
 that prompted this deed of midnight horror. It was 
 envy of unpossessed virtues — it was hatred of a fallen 
 and persecuted, but not a degenerate family — it was 
 malice against an individual, who dared to act a manly 
 and a grateful part. These were, if any, the instigating 
 motives. For a Bourbon to display talent, courage, 
 honesty, gratitude — was, in the eyes of the Corsican, 
 an offence not to be expiated but with life. When, in- 
 deed, did Buonaparte ever manifest a single trait of 
 genuine kindness, mercy, or magnanimity ? To dispute 
 his genius would be absurd — to deny him the credit of 
 having effected some public good would be uncandid-— 
 would be unjust : but of him, who has deluged all Eu* 
 rope with blood— of him who has left France at the foot 
 of the nations she had injured and insulted : of Napo- 
 leon, as often as, by the thoughtless and unprincipled, 
 his name, and character, and actions shall be coupled 
 -with the sacred attributes of true greatness ; * so often, 
 in emphatic answer to such a flagrant profanation of pa- 
 negyric, let it be said — "He was the murderer of the 
 Duke of Enghien !" 
 
 * " He is not great who is not greatly good."— Shaksfe are. 
 
187 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Excursion to St. Cloud, fyc.-^The Palace — Gardens 
 and Park— A Sunday in Paris and its Environs— •Tivoli 
 Gardens. 
 
 June 2nd. 
 
 1 HIS jrorning, after breakfast, we took coach for 
 Saint Cloud, with some Parisian friends ; and, after an 
 agreeable ride of about an hour, alighted at the court 
 gate of the Palace, which is situated on a noble emi- 
 nence, the esplanade before the principal front com- 
 manding a most delightful view of the neighbouring 
 country, and of Paris in the distance. The interior 
 presents a scene of astonishing splendour and elegance. 
 This, as is well known, was the favourite Palace of 
 Buonaparte; and whatever of the magnificence of 
 Louis the Fourteenth and his successors was destroyed 
 at the breaking out of the Revolution, he had caused to 
 be supplied by the equally sumptuous and more classic 
 decorations of modern taste. As our attendant, there- 
 fore, designated the different apartments, we for Royal^ 
 of course, read Imperial % and indeed mementos were 
 not wanting to remind us of the last occupier, either hi 
 the letter N. or in the equally significant device of the 
 Eagle. 
 
 In the Saloon of Mars^ with which we commenced 
 from the hall of entrance, is an equestrian portrait of 
 Dessaix : the painter has represented this ceh brated 
 General of the Republic in the act of falling from his 
 horse into the arms of his Aide-dt-Camp) after receiving 
 
188 
 
 Lis death-wound at the battle of Marengo. In the 
 same room are busts of Generals Iloche and Dampier. 
 The Gallerie d'Apollon, though not on so grand a scale 
 as the Gallery of Versailles, has nevertheless an advan- 
 tage over that stupendous example of magnificence, in 
 being completely and most beautifully furnished. The 
 next is the Salle de Diane. The ceilings of these 
 rooms are finely painted with various subjects of 
 Heathen Mythology, by Migriard. From thence we 
 proceed through the Salle du Roi, Salle de Reception, 
 Salle du Cornell Prive, all fitted up like the preceding, 
 in a stile which for the costliness of the articles, and the 
 delightful taste of the arrangement, is not perhaps to be 
 surpassed, and in very few instances equalled. In Na- 
 poleon's Bedchamber ( chamhre a coucher du Roi) is the 
 celebrated Phedre of Guerin, a picture unquestionably 
 of great merit ; but it partakes too much of the general 
 character of David's school to afford me unqualified sa- 
 tisfaction : the works of the modern French painters 
 evince a great deal of study devoted to the antiques, and 
 very little attention to the pictures of the Louvre. Their 
 groups and single figures are finely drawn, admirably 
 correct in all points of historic character and of cost ume ; 
 but they strike me as being deficient in freedom of atti- 
 tude, and in the choice of physiognomy. In vain too, 
 one searches among them for true Jleshiness in the car- 
 nations ; their figures look like painted statues! The 
 sleeping room ot the Ex-Empress Maria Louisa ( cham- 
 hre a coucher de la Reine ) her Boudoir, and La toilette 
 en sortant du Bain, exceed any thing that I have ever 
 seen, both in respect to richness of decoration, and the 
 happy effect produced in the adaptation of antique form 
 and ornament to luxurious accommodations of every 
 
189 
 
 description. Through the whole suite of apartments, 
 the eye is constantly attracted by a profusion of the most 
 beautiful porceiaine of Sevres, curious clocks, and other 
 elaborate and beautiful works in bronze, marble, gold, 
 and silver. In the dining room is a highly-finished 
 model of u La Batterie Napoleon ," at Cherburg. 
 
 The Gardens of the Palace display every variety that 
 art and nature combined, or contrasted with each other, 
 can present. All the walks are in excellent order ; and 
 the fountains, cascades, basins, statues, and other objects 
 with which they are adorned, and to which they lead, 
 are consistent with the dignity, and worthy the orna- 
 mental splendour of a Royal domain ; keeping alive 
 the stranger's interest and gratification at every step he 
 takes. In some parts of the grounds, the symetrical 
 stile of the ingenious Le Noire is studiously retained ; 
 in others, the less formal taste of our own country pre- 
 vails : each has its merits and advantages, which are 
 never, perhaps, so clearly perceived, as when thus al- 
 ternately blended, or brought into opposition one with 
 the other. It is on this account in particular that Saint 
 Cloud is better suited than Versailles to English prepos- 
 sessions and preferences. From the Gardens we pro- 
 ceeded down to the Grande Allee of the Park ; walked 
 along the river side, beneath the refreshing shade of 
 noble chesnut trees ; and then leisurely ascended the 
 eminence on which stands the Tower of La Pointe de 
 Vue. It is well worth while to make a trip from Paris 
 to St Cloud, merely for the sake of enjoying the deli- 
 cious optical treat from the top of this observatory. — 
 There is not a blemish in the whole prospect : it is 
 rich, extensive, and picturesque. In making the 
 circuit of the panorama, the eye ranges successively 
 
190 
 
 over the fine forest-crowned ridges of Sevres, Belle Vue, 
 and Avry; the Park, Palace, Gardens, and Town of 
 Saint Cloud : over the Bois de Boulogne Montmartre 
 ri^es conspicuously, St. Denis elevates the spires of its 
 Abbey, and at the same advantageous distance Paris 
 displays her Notre Dame and Pantheon; and the gilt 
 dome o the Invalides glared in our eyes like a mock 
 sun. From the direction of the capital we observe the 
 waters of the Seine, taking a sweep of more than half 
 the circle, come flowing beneath our feet in a broad but 
 lazy (and somewhat muddy) current, and continue their 
 snake like course, further than the eye can reach, through, 
 a vast expanse of country. 
 
 By this time, fatigued with our exertions, and op- 
 pressed with heat, we were glad to direct our steps to 
 some cool place of rest and refreshment. As we retraced 
 the line of walks through the park and gardens, we 
 found them fast filling with parties of pleasure, some of 
 whom wandering among the bosquets, some seated on 
 the tapis vert, or recumbent beside the river, enlivened 
 the lovely and romantic scene with many a cheerful and 
 frolicsome circle. Here 9 as at Versailles, and every 
 where else, we met abundance of our own country- 
 folks, upon the self-same errand as ourselves ; but as (to 
 use the words of Sterne) " Englishmen do not travel to 
 see Englishmen," they were to us, and we no doubt to 
 them, a perfectly indifferent part of the crowd. We 
 soon adjourned to a restaurateur y s at the entrance of the 
 park, where, in one of the little cassinos that overlooked 
 the gay throng as it streamed through the gates, we 
 took our dinner ; and had no sooner finished the repast 
 by drinking, a PAnglaise* the healths of the ladies of 
 our party, in a bumper of tolerable Champagne wine y 
 
191 
 
 than we "Were hurried from our seats with the intelligence 
 that La Grande Cascade was pouring down its water i 
 and would not have the complaisance to waste a gallon 
 more than its usual stint for e'er a John Bull in the 
 world. 
 
 This artificial water-fall, and the grand fjel d'eau in the 
 adjacent terrace, constitute chefs d'oeuvre^ in their kind, 
 of the age of Louis XI V, We had previously in- 
 spected the fine workmanship and intricate arrangement 
 of the cascade : the groups, figures, and other design* 
 with which it is composed and adorned display the 
 fertility of invention and the boldness of execution that 
 characterise the talents of Mansard and Le Poulre. It 
 is ai singular assemblage of stone, rock, and shell 
 tyork ; river gods and sea monsters ; pretty nymphs of 
 the fountain, and huge frogs of the marsh ! And when 
 these empty the limpid contents of their enormous urns, 
 and those spout forth each a crystal supply from its? 
 leaden entrails ; when the reservoirs which they fill, 
 overflowing descend in broad sheets to larger and 
 still larger basins ; and a hundred playful streams run 
 the mazes of the hydraulic structure ; then, indeed, the 
 effect is astonishing, it is even magical : but they, to. 
 whom is 
 
 44 More dear, and more congenial to the heart, 
 44 One native charm than all the gloss of an," 
 
 would not from this wonder of Saint Cloud reap half so 
 much real pleasure as in witnessing the unmanaged pre- 
 cipitancy, and in listening to the unassisted murmurings 
 of some rural torrent, less ostentatious but of superior 
 force, and of more permanent volume. On the other 
 hand, the jet d\au is an embellishment perfectly in 
 unison with the artificial character of such a place as 
 
192 
 
 this: it is an ingenious application of philosophi- 
 cal and mechanical principles, and excites no com- 
 parison with natural objects. The reflection of the sun- 
 beams on its watery column, and its cooling spray 
 which the air wafts around, render it a splendid and a 
 refreshing object. Several smaller ones, situated in the 
 most commanding parts of the park and gardens, con- 
 tinued to play all the remaining interval of our stay, 
 serving as so many rallying points to numerous throngs, 
 and forming, with the promenade of the Grande Allee^ 
 a truly animated scene. 
 
 It was, to be sure, as motley an assemblage as can 
 possibly be imagined of paysans, bourgeois, and bon 
 genre, for the costume of these three classes (the lower, 
 middle, and upper) is quite distinct, especially that of 
 the females. In England, one sees an evident design, 
 in the lower and middle classes, to imitate, particularly 
 in dress, that which is above them. Even the servant 
 girls, with us, have nothing peculiar to their situation 
 in the make of their clothes : not so the French women ; 
 the inferior orders of whom, though in their Sunday- 
 going suits, are always in character. To convey an 
 adequate idea of their appearance requires the pencil : 
 it cannot be imparted by the pen. But whoever has 
 seen that charming actress Miss Kelly, in the Maid of 
 Paliseau ( La Pie Voleuse ) has seen the exact portrait 
 bf a country girl, in the neighbourhood of Paris. The 
 handkerchief coefure, the large gold ear-rings, the cross 
 at the breast, and every other minutia of costume and 
 ornament, she has adopted with perfect exactitude ; 
 nor is she less the counterpart of some of them in a 
 cheerful simplicity of manner, and the expression of 
 good nature beaming from her sparkling black eyes. 
 
193 
 
 Among the various sources of recreation this place 
 affords, there was one which these true sons and daugh- 
 ters of pleasure seemed entirely to neglect. It was with 
 a degree of surprise, we remarked, that not a single 
 boat feathered its dexterous oars, or resigned its white 
 and swelling sails to the breeze, on the winding channel 
 of the Seine. And we contrasted the void, occasioned 
 by this unimproved advantage, with the gallant sight 
 of the well-appointed flotillas that cover the bosom of 
 Old Father Thames, and even of those less numerous but 
 equally ornamental barks that occasionally give an ap- 
 propriate finish to the scenery of our own humbler Yare. 
 It would hence appear, that neither salt nor fresh water 
 is a favourite element with the Parisians, But I beg 
 their pardon for this national reflection : it had escaped 
 my recollection, that one of the choice amusements at 
 their Wauxhall and Tivoli Gardens, is to splash about 
 with canoes in duck puddles, which they term canals : 
 they also, now and then, treat themselves with an aquatic 
 diversion (joutes sur Veau) of ancient origin, which 
 consists in rowing two or more boats against each other, 
 with a man at the head of each, whose part it is to pink 
 his opponent overboard with a blunt- pointed lance ; this, 
 however, is a spectacle reserved for grandes fetes. 
 
 On our way back to Paris, we found the road thronged 
 with people in their best suits, passing to and fro— on 
 foot, on horseback ; few in dashing equipages ; but 
 abundance in humble cabriolets, and multitudes crammed 
 in still humbler pots-de-chambre. Every village we 
 passed through was a scene of festivity. In one place, 
 dancing parties on the green, or rather on that which 
 was green ,- in another spot, men and boys playing 
 racket, the jeu de ballon, &>c. And not only might we 
 
 C c 
 
194 
 
 see " The young contending, while the old swteyed 
 but here still, to all appearance, were 
 
 M Alike all ages, dames of ancient days 
 " Leading their children thro* the mirthful maze,* 
 *' And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, 
 * Fiisking beneath the burthen of three score." 
 
 Whoever shall make a Sunday excursion, in the environs 
 of Paris, during " the rosy time of the year," will behold 
 the poetic picture, drawn from life, by the charming 
 pencil of Goldsmith, si ill realised in many of its social 
 and exhilirating features. The evening clear, serene^ 
 and free from humidity, the most indolent and infirm 
 were seeking their enjoyment in the open air, sitting m 
 little parties at their doors, or on chairs and benches 
 ranged along the road side. What a paradox in thi& 
 France : with such a disposition for mirth, and ease, and 
 pleasure; such a proneness to mischief, disorder, and 
 cruelty ; so much of energy, and of frivolity— so much 
 of urbanity and of ferocity ! Can these contrasted qua- 
 lities form united ingredients in the composition oi the 
 same national character ? To view the gay smiling face 
 of a land which has been the theatre of so many bloody 
 and destructive convulsions, and which has given birth 
 to such a world of woes for itself and for mankind— one 
 is almost templed to exclaim, 44 O ! what a goodly out- 
 side falsehood hath !" There seems no other way to solve 
 this riddle of a people, than by supposing of them that 
 " what is good is spontaneous, that their faults are their 
 own." That their amiable and estimable qualities ; their 
 cheerfulness, wit, intelligence, and good humour, are 
 peculiarly the gift of nature— and that the worst of their 
 vicious propensities are to be laid to a long account of 
 abuses in State Policy and of corruption in Religious 
 
195 
 
 "Faith and Rites, attempted to be rectified by hasty schemes 
 of innovation and change, and by the detestable project of 
 building public reform on the ruin of private morality ? 
 
 Continuing our course through the beautiful vil- 
 lage of Passj/, we entered by the Barriere, and 
 skirting the Champs Elisees, proceeded through the 
 Place de Louis XV. and alighted at the entrance of 
 the Gardens of the Thuilleries The moving scene 
 which all the way had been eracreasing in vivacity, here 
 attained its climax of interest and beauty. The ex- 
 treme favourableness of the weather had filled this 
 whole arrondissement with more than its usual influx of 
 company ; and every one who has visited Paris, knows 
 that uqder such circumstances, the Thuilleries offer 
 one of the most delightful as well as the most superb 
 promenades in Europe. On the principle of " doing 
 at Rome as is done at Rome," we finished our evening 
 with our Parisian friends at the Jardins de Tivoli^ 
 which being extensive, pleasantly situated, and laid out 
 in tolerably good taste, form the favourite afternoon 
 resort of respectable society, and the grand scene, ip. 
 the evening, of Fetes Champetres. The " humours" Qf 
 Tivoli are multifarious : one quarter of it reminds you 
 of our metropolitan Vauxhall; in another you would 
 imagine yourself at a fair : netted swings, see saws, 
 firing at a mark with air guns, the jeu d'oiseau^ and the 
 tres noble jeu de carousel, which last is an improvement 
 upon our English merry-go-rounds ; the riders, each 
 furnished with a sort of dagger, or rather a " bare 
 bodkin," endeavour to carry off on the point of their 
 weapon as many rings as possible, from a post which 
 they pass in their whirligig course. It is, certes^ a most 
 edifying and dignified spectacle^ to see grown gentle- 
 
 Cc2 
 
190 
 
 men and ladies pursuing with ardour and perseverance 
 this round-robin race after nothing J And, as " dulce 
 est disipere in loco" — as " it is delightful to play the 
 fool on an occasion/' my friend and myself entered the 
 lists of these puerile amusements, perhaps without duly 
 considering how far we were compromising the cha- 
 racter of that " most thinking nation" whence we had 
 come, and whither we were so speedily to return. — 
 Such, however, is the generality of the amusements 
 of the Parisians : 
 
 " With sports like these are all their cares beguii'd — 
 fi The sports of children satisfy the child !" 
 
 Proceeding a little further, we find a necromancer, 
 in appropriate costume, whispering ses sottises et ses 
 betises in the ears of the ladies, under pretence of fore- 
 telling their destinies. In the middle of the garden is 
 a place appropriated to the balls ; waltzes and quadrilles 
 are here danced to good music : a person, standing in 
 the orchestra, regulates the change of time and figure. 
 As for the dancers, they are here, as elsewhere, good, 
 bad, and indifferent. The women infinitely excel the 
 men in grace and correctness ; some of the Belles 
 Parisiennes exhibit, in operatic pride, the springing 
 pirouettes, and all the elasticity of the fantastic toe : 
 others less solicitous of admiration, tread with true yet 
 modest step the labyrinth of the intricate figure : while 
 a third description evince little more than a zealous 
 pertinacity, in u holding out to tire each other down;" 
 and as boarded floors do not come within the economy 
 of the place, the strain of muscle, and wear and tear of 
 shoe leather, must be considerable. At these dances 
 no introduction is requisite between parties ; nor are any 
 restrictions experienced on either side ; the ladies are 
 
197 
 
 liable to be asked by perfect strangers — they accept or 
 decline, as they please : all this is conducted with per- 
 fect good breeding and decorum, and the regulation of 
 the police ensures general tranquillity and individual 
 protection. 
 
 Nothing, however, to compare with the brilliancy 
 and splendour of our Vauxhall is to be found at Tivoli : 
 but they make up in variety what they want in gran- 
 deur and beauty of effect. The tout-ensemble is enter- 
 taining enough ; and for the votaries of gallantry, and 
 the lovers of intrigue, there is as accommodating an 
 assortment of bowers, grottos, love-lanes, and dark 
 walks, " as you shall see in a Midsummer's Night." 
 Our fete concluded with the usual feu (F artifice, in the 
 variety and eclat of which they greatly outshine us : 
 the flights of rockets are numerous and brilliant in 
 the extreme. — Madame Saqui, now in London, used 
 here to perform her break-neck task of ascending an 
 inclined plane of rope to the elevation of about seventy 
 feet, and descending again in the midst of a discharge of 
 fireworks. On this occasion another lady mounted up 
 to and came down from the same fearful height, to the 
 extatic delight of all those whose admiration of a feat of 
 this kind is exactly commensurate with the risk of life 
 or limb which the party incurs in the performance of it ! 
 
198 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Paris— 7 he Chamber of Deputies — The Hotel and Chapel 
 of the Invalides — The Porcelaine Manufactory of Sevres. 
 
 J HE Hall of the present French Chamber of Deputies 
 (their House of Commons) went, in Buonaparte's time, 
 under the appellation of the Palais du Corps Legislatif 
 Previous to its receiving that destination, the ephemeral 
 creature of the Directory, the Council of Five Hundred, 
 held its sittings there : for which purpose, indeed, this 
 Republican addition to the Royal mansion of Conde, 
 was constructed w hile as yet the rest of that most sump* 
 tuous and costly building (pillaged at the breaking out 
 of the revolution) remained in a state of dilapidation 
 and neglect. The Salle des Seances is a complete model 
 of the ancient theatre, and is admirably adapted for see- 
 ing and hearing : the tribune of the orators is placed in 
 the centre of the cord of this semi-circular apartment-— 
 behind that rises the seat of the President. The hall is 
 ornamented with some good bass reliefs and statues. The 
 seats of the Deputies rise one above another ; and over 
 them are the galleries for the public. The Saloon of 
 Entrance and the Council Chamber, added by Buona* 
 parte since 1802, are very fine, and contain some good 
 pictures: among the rest the Hero and Leander, of 
 Taillasson, a living artist— and in the number of the 
 superb sculptural decorations, in the latter saloon, are 
 two basso relievos, one representing the interview of 
 Alexander and Napoleon, on the Niemen; the other 
 
 June 3rd. 
 
199 
 
 the presentation of colours after the battle of Austerlitz. 
 In both these memorials of Buonaparte's victorious ca- 
 reer, his figure is very conspicuous ; but a proper respect 
 for the arts, prevailing over a false zeal for Royalty, 
 has protected these beautiful works from molestation, 
 and manifested the good sense and liberality of Louis 
 XVIII. The exterior of the Grand Palace, as it is 
 called, to distinguish it from that part which is re-occu- 
 pied by the present Prince of Conde, is approached on 
 the side of the Place Bourbon, through a collonade of 
 great richness and grandeur, and at the extremity of 
 two spacious courts, presents a portico of very com- 
 manding architecture. The front towards the Seine, 
 consists of a magnificent peristyle of twelve Corinthian 
 columns : the approach on this side is rendered the 
 more striking by two finely-executed figures representing 
 Minerva and the Genius of France, which are placed at 
 the foot of a grand flight of marble stairs. The statues 
 of Sully, Colbert, and other French worthies, serve also 
 to designate the appropriation, and to dignify the ap- 
 pearance of this by far the most elegant front, which 
 commands one of the finest views in Paris. The bass 
 reliefs in the pediments of both fronts, were concealed^, 
 and workmen employed in making some alterations — 
 what the designs were I could not learn. If connected 
 •with the armorial characteristics of the late Government, 
 such alterations are necessary : but the suicidal act of 
 destroying or defacing national monuments ; trophies of 
 renown, and evidences for history, is only fit for a Con- 
 vention of King and Priest-killers to instigate, and a mob 
 of practical Anarchists to execute. As far, however, as 
 my opportunities of observation have extended, none 
 of the monuments and other works of the late Imperial 
 
200 
 
 Regime have been injured or displaced ; except indeed 
 by altering the ISPs, into Us. and the new heraldry of 
 the Napoleon Dynasty into the ancient bearings of the 
 family of Bourbons, and by removing the images and 
 pictures of the Ex-Emperor. All which may be excused 
 by the most ardent lover of the fine arts, valued for 
 themselves alone; and was doubtless a matter of policy 
 among a people so susceptible of violent impressions 
 from exterior influences. 
 
 As long as the Hotel des Invalides remained in ex- 
 istence, so long one would have thought that the me- 
 mory of Louis the Fourteenth would have been held 
 sacred by a nation of so decided a military character as 
 the French. The correctness, however, of such an idea, 
 like many others founded on the ordinary basis of 
 human reasonings and calculations, was to be disproved 
 in a Revolution, by whose authors nothing appeared to 
 be held in so criminal a light as an indulgence in the 
 feelings of grateful respect for the labours and beneficence 
 of departed Monarchs— except indeed it was the manifes- 
 tation of a desire to do justice to the actions and motives 
 of a reigning Sovereign ! A great deal has been said of the 
 works undertaken by Buonaparte for the use and em- 
 bellishment of Paris ; the praise to a certain extent has 
 been deservedly assigned to him — the merit of restoring, 
 and in some respects improving, the architectural cha- 
 racter of the capital certainly belongs to Napoleon ; he 
 had formed new markets, opened new streets, and 
 would have doubtless carried them all to that state of 
 completion which, at the epoch of his overthrow, few 
 of them had attained. But when we compare the length 
 of his reign, as First Consul and Emperor ; the extent 
 of his power, the aggregate and enormous encrease of 
 
201 
 
 the means at his uncontrolled disposal, with those pos- 
 sessed by Louis the Fourteenth during the interval of 
 fourteen years that included the building of this truly 
 Royal and munificent Hospital ; and when we ascertain 
 the results produced by each, in the accomplishment 
 of designs for illustrating the genius of his policy, and 
 for attesting the grandeur of his government — we shall 
 see abundant cause, sanctioned alike by impartiality 
 and truth, to adopt the opinion that, if these are to be 
 among the criteria of superiority, the reign of Napoleon 
 le Grand must yield its claim on the suffrages of pos- 
 terity in favour of that of the Grand Monarque, whose 
 name, indeed, serves as the answer to almost every 
 interrogatory that one has occasion to make, as to the 
 founder and patron of the finest monuments of architec- 
 ture, sculpture, and painting, that decorate and ennoble 
 the city and environs of Paris. 
 
 Between seven and eight thousand invalid warriors 
 find a welcome home and kind attendance in this noble 
 structure, of which the accommodations appear as com- 
 plete as the extensiveness is prodigious The match- 
 less display of painted ceilings, the marble tesselated 
 pavement, the superb tombs of Turenne and Vauban ? 
 and other objects that interest our feelings and captivate 
 our sight in contemplating the beauties of the Dome, 
 and its four chapels, render the sacred part of the 
 edifice worthy the most attentive observation of the 
 stranger. No longer, however, the Republican lem- 
 ple du Mars, and stripped of the formidable trophies of 
 French victories (by the hands of the veterans them- 
 selves, who made a bonfire of the innumerable standards 
 to prevent their falling again into the enemy 's hands) 
 its present aspect fell far short of reviving its former 
 
 Dd 
 
202 
 
 impression on my mind. As the spoils of those con* 
 quests, which France never made but to impose on the 
 vanquished nations her iron yoke of slavery, had at no 
 time any charm for me ; so the bare walls and columns 
 from which such decorations had been snatched away, 
 proved in my eyes a gratifying rather than a melancholy- 
 change. 
 
 The church of the Invalids has been regarded as not 
 yielding in architectural merit to St. Paul's, London — 
 the richness of its interior, the exquisite beauty of the 
 materials, and embellishments of the dome, offer a spec- 
 tacle of magnificence, on a smaller scale, indeed, but of 
 more magical and enchanting effect than the stupendous 
 example of our Wren's great genius can fairly boast : — 
 thus much may perhaps be conceded to the ingenuity of 
 a Mansard^ and the munificence of his Royal employer.. 
 But when we speak of sublimity, of purity, of a grand 
 simplicity of design on classic models, the taste formed 
 by a due etudy of the antique will, it is to be conceived^ 
 discover an assemblage more congenial to itself in the 
 portal and dome of our English architect's chef (Fceuvrey 
 than in those of the French artist ? as exemplified in the 
 building in question. The gilding and painting of the 
 outside of the cupola is a highly-finished piece of 
 workmanship ; but it has too glaring and too abrupt an 
 effect. 
 
 Passing through the principal court, at dinner hour, 
 we saw the rations of bread and cheese and soup, 
 served out to the invalids, who, with these frugal viands, 
 seem to be in possession of much of that comfort and 
 ease which is due to their situation and services. Each 
 inmate has, in the vast space of ground comprised within 
 the walls of the institution, his little slip of garden al- 
 
2m 
 
 lotted to him ; this he arranges to his own taste ; and some 
 of them are laid out and ornamented, in a very neat and 
 ingenious manner, with arbours, trellis work, and well- 
 trimmed shrubs and borders— the whole inclosure has a 
 pretty appearance, and forms a healthy, cheerful, and 
 rational source of occupation to " the broken soldier.' 9 
 We next proceeded on a visit to Sevres. In our way 
 thither we passed by the facade of the ci-devant Ecole 
 Mditaire, late the caserne (barrack) of the Imperial 
 Guard of Buonaparte (under the name of Le Quartier 
 Napoleon ), and proceeded through the Champ de Mars, 
 where so many State farces have successively been 
 enacted, each attended by circumstances so imposingly 
 grand, and by results so tragically serious; beginning 
 with poor Louis's confederation of eighty-nine, and 
 ending with the u nous le jurons" of the Field of May, 
 IS 15! The bridge which Blucher had prepared to 
 blow up, as being commemorative of the defeat of the 
 Prussians at Jena, crosses the Seine at the lower extre- 
 mity of this spacious inclosure, Tt consists of five 
 arches, and is built in a stile that combines elegance 
 with solidity. The triumphant inscription is erased, 
 and its obnoxious appellation changed to the title of 
 Pontdes Invaiides, an alternative much more creditable 
 to both parties than the destruction of a great public 
 ornament and convenience. The Parisians are very 
 proud of (heir bridges, and their architecture in general 
 displays great taste and ingenuity ; but would they see 
 the perfection of the art, they should visit London, 
 where we can shew them works of symmetrical con- 
 struction, and of more than Roman grandeur. In front 
 of the Bridge of Jena, on the Passy sid of the river, 
 a&d opposite the Ecole Militaire, are the foundations of 
 
 Dd2 
 
204 
 
 a palace, projected to have been built for the young 
 " Roi de Rome" It was intended to have been the 
 ne plus of grandeur and luxury* And, to be sure, as 
 there is so great a scarcity of Palaces in Paris and its 
 neighbourhood, his Imperial papa judged well to fix on 
 such a spot : for seriously speaking, it has every advan- 
 tage of locality to recommend it. 
 
 A pleasant ride of about four miles brings us again to 
 the Seine : we cross another bridge and are at Sevres.— 
 It is a populous village of considerable extent ; and de- 
 lightfully situated, between the romantic heights of 
 Belle Vue and those of Saint Cloud. In all these vil- 
 lages, a principal occupation for the women is that of 
 washing linen for Paris, and excellently well it is done. 
 Very large plots of ground, by the road side x covered 
 with rows of poles, are appropriated to the use of these 
 blanchiseuseS) who hang their linen on them. It is sur- 
 prising to see the immense quantity of articles of wear- 
 ing apparel, which this industrious class of females 
 take charge of, and punctually deliver back, clean and 
 in the neatest order, to their respective customers at the 
 hotels and other houses of the capital. 
 
 Sevres is celebrated throughout Europe for its great 
 Manufactory of Porcelain, carried on in a very large 
 building, the concern of which was founded by, and 
 still remains in the hands of the Government. The 
 Magazin de Vente, or sale room, consists of a long suite 
 of apartments. In the first, we were shewn specimens 
 of antique and modern Porcelain : among the former is 
 a collection of Etruscan vases, which would look paltry 
 enough by the side of Sir William Hamilton's, in the 
 British Museum : among the latter we have samples of 
 real China ; and of the Dresden, Vienna^ and our owa 
 
205 
 
 Worcester. But these in general, and the last named 
 specimens in particular, do not appear to be selected with 
 a sincere intention of doing justice to the respective 
 merits of those several fabrics : an outward shew of 
 candour, without the inward worth of its reality, is all 
 that one recognizes in this comparative exposition. As 
 for the Porcelain of Sevres and Paris (for there are 
 now private establishments in the metropolis which rival 
 the public one here) it can hardly be spoken of in too 
 high terms of commendation ; the extreme fineness and 
 purity of the earth, its delicacy and transparency — the 
 symmetry of the forms, correctly modelled after the 
 choicest morceaux of antiquity — the taste and variety 
 of the designs, and the brilliancy of the colours — in all 
 these respects it is superior to any I have ever seen ; and 
 perhaps substantiates the pretensions of the French to a 
 decided pre-eminence over every other nation, in the 
 fabrication of these fragile articles of luxury. 
 
 Surrounded as we were by the most delicious forms, 
 the most interesting and elegant groups, by vases, 
 pateras, and other objects either of superb dimension, or 
 of classic decoration, it made us sometimes shudder as we 
 noticed the prices affiled to each, to think what mis- 
 chief and cost might ensue from a single unlucky whisk 
 of the coat, or an unguarded motion of the arm ! Some 
 of the most highly-finished of the paintings were equal 
 to the finest enamel : among the rest portraits of the 
 present King, the Emperor Alexander, and the Duke 
 of Wellington But the most curious as well as the 
 most beautiful thing in the whole exhibition, is a cir- 
 cular table, on the upper surface of which, in imitation 
 of cameos, are painted busts of illustrious ancients.— 
 The head of Alexander forms the centre ; round it are 
 
206 
 
 those of MilHaAeS) Pericles, Pompey, Ccesar, Scipw $ 
 and Augustus, and the compartments of the outer circle 
 are charged with a representation of the most important 
 incidents of their respective histories. This extraordi- 
 nary and admirable specimen of pencilled porcelain, 
 the work of a living artist, (whose name I regret to 
 have forgotten) is v lued at 36,000 francs : and some 
 idea may be formed of its elaborate execution, from the 
 fact of its having been nine years in bringing to an ac- 
 complishment. 
 
 The able artists employed in this establishment have 
 displayed their talents in some exquisite pictures on 
 glass, the colours of which having been burnt in, by the 
 same process as that used with the porcelain, are pro- 
 nounced to be unalterable by any action of atmosphere 
 or time. There is scarcely any agreeable object of 
 nature or of art applicable to the purposes of social re- 
 finement, but what this ingenious description of work- 
 manship is made capable of imitating with the happiest 
 effect. Of flowers, foliage, and fruit, we are presented 
 with the most magical and seducing resemblances. Nor 
 must we omit in the list of great curiosities, an imitation 
 of the most beautiful lace. Secured from the rude touch 
 of the over inquisitive, by the protection of glass cases, 
 are several of these delicate veils of pot earth, thrown 
 over the miniature figure of some roguish Cupid, or a 
 sleeping child. It was some five or six years ago the 
 fashion at Paris — frivolous time-serving Paris, ever ready 
 to " lick absurd pomp, where profit follows fawning" — 
 it was there fhe fashionable flattery, to de corate in this 
 manner the lik< ness of the infant Napoleon, under the 
 appellation o\ Le berceau du Rot de Rome— the cradle 
 of the King of Rome ! 
 
207 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Recollections of Paris — The Polite— The English in 
 Pa ris — Coach Offi ces — [lot els — Pcrre ga ux's Banking* 
 house — The Theatres -—Remarks on the Palais Royal— Res- 
 taurateurs and Caffes — Gaming Tables — Streets — Costume 
 — French Women — Caricatures — Military Character- 
 Manners of the lower and middling Classes. 
 
 UR two last days (June 4th and 5th) were almost 
 wholly occupied in attending to the appointed regu- 
 lations respecting our passports for the Netherlands, 
 in completing a few purchases, and in the necessary 
 preparations for our departure. On the former subject 
 we experienced some degree of trouble more than we 
 had calculated upon. It may therefore be worth while 
 to state the prescribed routine in a matter so essential to 
 a traveller's convenience, to be known and pursued 
 correctly. Having previously attended at the Hotel of 
 the British Ambassador, (Sir Charles Stewart, Rue 
 Faubourg St* Honore) where the passports we had 
 arrived with were " vu a V Ambassade Brit annique pour 
 aller a Bruxelles" we proceeded to the Bureau de la 
 Prefecture de Police, and there learned that the pains 
 we had just been taking were completely thrown away. 
 As the proper preliminary measure, we were relerred to 
 the Ministere des Affaires Etrangeres, ( Rue de Bac ) 
 Thither we went, and left our passports, with a trifling 
 fee, and on receiving them again at our Hotel, we made 
 a second visit to the Police Office, and presented them 
 to the Ministre k Chef du Bureau des Passeports > who 
 
208 
 
 immediately put his signature to them ; strangers hav- 
 ing precedence and every facility rendered them. The 
 office is continually crowded with applicants : not 
 fewer than 200 were in attendance each day we went. 
 
 The Police in France is an institution, whose 
 operations have in them a restrictive controul over 
 personal liberty, revolting enough to our genuine Eng- 
 lish feelings ; but they are obviously needful here to 
 secure the tranquillity of the country. A Frenchman 
 travelling out of his commune, must have a passport ; 
 and so perfectly accustomed has he been to these regu- 
 lations, under all the different forms of government^ 
 that he takes the whole tedious routine with the greatest 
 patience and resignation : some of the folks bring books 
 with them, to beguile the time which it is necessary to 
 wait before their number is called. On our arrival, the 
 only obligation to which we found ourselves subjected 
 was that of inscribing our names, age, qualiles, habitual 
 residence, and professions, in a register kept by our 
 maitre (P hotel, who charged himself with obtaining le 
 visa de nos passeports, and their speedy return into our 
 hands. These it is necessary for foreigners to have in 
 their pockets. We were never called on to produce 
 ours in any of our perambulations. At the barrieres our 
 drivers used to say in answer to the demands of the gens 
 ffarmes, " ce sont des Anglais"-*— and the reply was in- 
 stantly "passez done" It is to the excellently organized 
 system of Police, that the infrequency of robbery and 
 disturbances, in and near this great metropolis, is mainly 
 attributable. The peaceable state of the streets, and the 
 perfect security of passengers, in the night time, con- 
 stitute indeed one of the greatest recommendations to 
 Paris ? in the eyes of a stranger. And we found abundant 
 
209 
 
 clause to speak highly of the safety with which we tra- 
 velled in the environs at all hours, sometimes very late, 
 in spite of " the insurrections" eternally prognosticated 
 by the prophecier. general of a London Morning Paper, 
 and other "good-natured friends" of the Bourbons. Nor 
 did this tranquillity appear to result from a more active 
 employment of the military than was the case in 1802. 
 In Buonaparte's Consulate, the numerous troops com- 
 posing the garrison of Paris were half of them employed 
 on municipal service. It was a little uncouth to me, 
 at first, to see not only the entrances of the gardens 
 and theatres blocked up with horse and foot soldiers, 
 but also a file of grenadiers or dragoons, stationed day 
 and night, at the corner of every street ; but such was 
 the regime republicain ; and inconsistent as such aspects 
 of restraint on the rights of man appeared to be with the 
 inscriptive Liberie and Egalite then blazoned on the 
 portals of their public buildings,* I could participate in 
 the conveniences of the system, without making any 
 John Bull reflections about the matter. Indeed, among 
 all the crowds in which I have found myself envelloped, 
 during my two visits to Paris, I never met with the 
 slightest insult nor had even my pockets picked. — 
 Whether this fact is to be ascribed to the surveillance de 
 la Police ', or to the urbanity of the Parisians towards 
 strangers, or to both causes united, I shall not pretend 
 to determine. But it is a testimony due, on the princi- 
 ples of common truth and justice, to speak of the treat- 
 ment we experienced, during nearly three weeks rest- 
 
 * The true Jacobin motto was *« Liberti, Egaliie, (ou la Mort)" : 
 but before my first visit, the free and equal Government of " Three 
 Consuls" had had the grace to put a semi-transparent veil of white-wash 
 aver the words embraced in the parenthesis. 
 
 Ee 
 
210 
 
 dence among them, under the newly-restored Government 
 of the King, and amidst the still existing circumstances 
 of political and national irritation, as having been dis- 
 tinguished by several marks of friendship, many instances 
 of civility and attention ; and, in short, the only acts 
 of ill behaviour and neglect of which we had reason to 
 complain, proceeded from individuals who were not 
 Frenchmen. A native of our own city suffered us to 
 leave our address at his house without returning the 
 compliment: and an Irish cabriolet driver honoured us 
 •with the tropes and figures of his abusive rhetoric, for 
 preferring the entertaining impertinence of his Parisian 
 brethrens 1 solicitations to his own ungracious and stormy 
 importunities ! So much for the perils and the moles- 
 tations to which the English are liable in Paris; and 
 which had been represented to us in so formidable a 
 light, before we set out, that we were prepared to expect 
 our full share in them. 
 
 From much, however, that I have myself witnessed, 
 and from more that I have heard from others, I am often 
 strongly inclined to lay the lamentations and execrations 
 tittered by many of our countrymen to the account of 
 the ignorance, folly, and rashness of their own conduct. 
 It is impossible, indeed, but that the character of the 
 British nation must materially suffer from the present 
 mania, infecting high and low, by which the French 
 capital is crowded to excess with a heterogeneous as- 
 semblage of " the Islanders," as Buonaparte used to term 
 us. Often have I had occasion to blush for the dignity 
 and honour of my native land, degraded and satirized by 
 the ignorance and the insolence displayed in the be- 
 haviour of some of these her unworthy children of both 
 sexes in their " foreign travels." If three-fourths of 
 
211 
 
 litem had staid at home, and improved themselves in the 
 first rudiments of their vernacular tongue, how much lost 
 credit might they not have saved both their schoolmaster 
 and their country. The plain maxims of good sense and 
 good breeding, comprehended in the institutes of a mere 
 English education, would have inculcated the necessity 
 of observing an affable, mild, and liberal conduct in our 
 intercourse with mankind in general, and with those in 
 particular whose customs, manners, and opinions, poli- 
 tical as well as religious, are different from our own. 
 Let our countrymen carry with them these cosmopolitan 
 manners — this best letter of recommendation to the 
 world at large, and they will meet with respect ; they 
 w ill conciliate good opinion ; they will secure esteem ; 
 whether at Paris or at Rome— at Vienna or at St. Pe- 
 tersburgh. Let them be assured, whatever they may be 
 told to the contrary, it is neither their Country nor its Go- 
 vernment that renders them objects of aversion on the 
 Continent ; but let t hem be equally certain that a haughty, 
 overbearing, disdainful, turbulent deportment, in what- 
 ever degree it may perchance find toleration at home, 
 will seldom or never obtain indulgence abroad ; and, to 
 prevent the most poignant disappointments, and vexa- 
 tions the most galling, should u be reformed all to- 
 gether," before an Englishman ventures to cross the 
 channel. 
 
 Having settled the business of our passports, we pro- 
 ceeded to the Bureau des Messageries in the Rue 
 Montmartre, to re-arrange the day of departure by the 
 Diligence to Valenciennes. We had taken our places 
 for the 4th ; but the delay encountered at the Prefecture 
 made it imperative on us to wait till the 6th • The clerks 
 at this great coach-office (whence carriages are setting 
 
 Ee2 
 
212 
 
 off at all hours for every part of France, and every con- 
 siderable town in Germany and Flanders) threw all the 
 impediments they could in oar way, for the sake o the 
 money },aid down, which in such cases falls to their 
 perquisite: but the chef de l\idministration, Monsieur 
 Saint Georges, to whom we made a personal appeal, 
 behaved with great politeness, and made no difficulty 
 in transferring our names to the day requested. And I 
 therefore mention it as an example of attention to 
 strangers not unworthy to be followed even by the 
 very civil and obliging Gentlemen at the coach offices 
 in the British Metropolis! 
 
 Nothing now remained but to settle accounts with 
 our host and hostess of the Hotel de Bruxelles, to whom 
 we had been recommended by our worthy friend H. 
 and whose " entertainment" had given us perfect satis- 
 faction. The situation of our lodgings was within 
 three minutes walk of the Palais Royal. And although 
 we could not boast of being exempt from the usual 
 annoyances to English delicacy and cleanliness, arising 
 principally out of the disgusting neglect of what is de- 
 sirable and proper in certain departments of domestic 
 provisorship, yet we had as clean a staircase and as few 
 bugs as come within the domestic economy perhaps of 
 any house in Paris. We generally breakfasted at a 
 Caffe opposite our hotel, and dined most frequently at 
 the Palais Royal. This plan suited us best as bachelors. 
 There were English families in our Hotel, who were 
 constantly supplied with breakfasts and dinners from, 
 the traiteurs, at a regular contract per head, by no 
 means exorbitant, and in very good stile. 
 
 Preparatory to our departure we obtained at the 
 liouse of Perre^aux, on which we had letters of credit 
 
213 
 
 from Barclays, of London, a transfer of credit to Brus- 
 sels, Messrs. Danoot and Co. The Hotel of this great 
 banking establishment, (Rue Montblanc) is a very hand- 
 some one. There is an office in it exclusively appro- 
 priated to the English, and the business is done in a very 
 easy and satisfactory manner.* Monsieur La Fitte, a very 
 gentlemanly person, is the ostensible head of this great 
 concern, The time one is in attendance is rendered 
 less irksome by the English newspapers, which are not 
 to be seen at the Caffts. Galignani's reading room in 
 the Rue Vivienne is the only place besides where we 
 used to be favoured with a peep at these bold-speaking 
 prints. 
 
 Having thus brought up our itinerary to the point of 
 taking leave of the gay capital of France, I shall now 
 briefly touch on a few subjects hitherto omitted to be 
 noticed. 
 
 The Theatres. — A natural aptitude for dramatic per- 
 formances, and a real fondness for them, it is not sur- 
 prising to find among a people with whom, (in the ex- 
 tremcst sense adopted by the great Poet of Human 
 Nature), " the World's a Stage," and who accordingly 
 are always acting. Yet it may excite some wonder that 
 the volatile, dissipated French should in their choice, 
 taste, and arrangement of theatrical amusements, display 
 
 # The rate of exchange was so much in our favour, that after deduct- 
 ing banker's commission, and the difference between taking our money 
 in silver and in gr id, we had about a Napoleon (16s. 8d.) into pocket. 
 The present coinage of France, ou the system of decimals, renders calcu- 
 lation easy, viz. the Double Napoleon* (40 f.) the Napoleon,* (20 f.) 
 Piece de cinq livres, de trente sous, un franc, demi franc, 5 sous, 10 
 centime piece equal to our penny, 5 centimes our halfpenny, or a sous. 
 But the French generally reckon by sous as far as 50 or 60; and the old 
 coins mixing with the others, create confusion in the first essay. 
 
 • A new coin, the Louis, is also 20 U 
 
214 
 
 a judgment, a modesty, and a decorum, greatly supe- 
 rior to our own ; and that they have in a great measure 
 succeeded in making the Drama and the Play-house a 
 school of morals, and an academy of decency and good 
 manners. The season for playing at Paris has no inter- 
 mission -as in London : but the early part of the Spring 
 is the time for witnessing the full strength of the Corps 
 Dramalique. Their justly celebrated tragedian Talma 
 (whose talents I had once the gratification of witnessing 
 at the Theatre Frangais, in Le Cid of Corneille) was to 
 our serious disappointment on an excursion to Nantes. 
 On this account we participated but sparingly in this 
 branch of Parisian entertainments, of which the interest 
 is to be found, not in the magnificence of the spectacle, 
 and still less in the splendour of the house and brilliancy 
 of the audience, but chiefly in the merits of the repre- 
 sentations, and the abilities of the actors. 
 
 The Opera Frangais is the only theatre which, for 
 stage shew, is comparable with Drury Lane or Covent 
 Garden. The singing is not equal to our English Opera- 
 house ; but the corps de ballet comprises the finest dancers 
 in the world, and the most numerous assemblage of them. 
 The costume and decorations are superb — and together 
 with the pictorial beauties, and perspective illusions of 
 the scenery, are at once magical in operation and clas- 
 sical in effect. The Theatre Frangais is emphatically 
 so named as being exclusively devoted to the master 
 pieces of French dramatic writing, both in tragedy and 
 in genteel comedy. The Comic Opera (Theatre Fey* 
 deau) is next in importance. Its interior architecture 
 is in a good stile, but like that of the Theatre Francais 
 too heavy for a Playhouse : it consists of a peristyle of 
 the Corinthian order, surmounted by another of the 
 
215 
 
 composite — the form an exact semi-circle, and conse- 
 quently well adapted for seeing and hearing. The actors 
 and actresses are extremely clever ; the singing, if not 
 of the first rate, very pleasing ; and the scenery well 
 executed, though there is but little change in it. The 
 Theatre du Vaudeville is also a well constructed building. 
 Appropriated to petiles comedies, in which, by a string 
 of epigrams and sarcastic arrielies, set to popular music, 
 the folly of the day is " shot at as itjlies" it serves to dis- 
 play the facility and vivacity of French acting and comic 
 singing to very great advantage. There is an amusing 
 little piece of ridicule in vogue now, under the title of 
 Monsieur sans Gene, a superior description of Jeremy 
 Diddler, who makes use of other people's houses, ser- 
 vants, and property, with the most perfect non chalance 
 and effrontery ; and, as far as his own interest is con- 
 cerned, with the happiest success imaginable. The 
 Theatre des It aliens (or Italian Opera) is now under 
 the direction of Madame Catalani ; whose avarice having 
 over-reached itself, is condemned to the purgatory of 
 thin houses, after losing the paradise which John Bull's 
 money enabled her so long to enjoy. We attended this 
 handsome theatre once, in expectation of hearing Ma- 
 4ame ; but " the part of Hamlet" was left out ; and 
 never could there be a more wretched set of tools than 
 those with which the work of bravura and recilafivo 
 grinding was performed in her absence. The Theatre 
 des Varietes is a small, dark, and dirty house ; dedicated 
 to exhibit the betises, the niaiseries, and the ludicrous 
 extravagances of such low but humourous comic actors 
 as Brunei and Potier. A farce, which has at present a 
 great run at this theatre de la grosse gaiete, goes under 
 the rigmarol title of u Jocrisse Grand Pere^ Jocrisse 
 
216 
 
 Mh) et Jocrisse P'etil-fils." It is not meant to be in- 
 ferred, that the mii of these performances is very piquante 
 or exquisite, nor their delicacy or morality very pure 
 and refined. Indeed, the Theatre des Varietes retains 
 those characteristics of vulgarity by which I remember to 
 have formerly seen it distinguished, when its company 
 used to perform at the Montansier, at the Palais Royal ; 
 but the famous, or rather infamous lounge of prostitutes 
 in ihefoj/er (or lobby) is abolished. 
 
 The French Theatres are certainly inferior to ours, 
 both in decorative richness and in the splendour of illu- 
 mination. Not only is the architecture of too heavy a 
 kind, but the houses are gloomy, and they look for all 
 the world as if they wore the self-same coat of paint 
 bestowed on them fourteen years ago. The boxes' of 
 the Opera-house and the first theatres are far from being 
 neatly tilted up ; aud the staircases, lobbies, and saloons 
 are inelegantly constructed, and in a slovenly state. The 
 avenues and exterior apartments of our own metropolitan 
 theatres rival those of princely palaces in grandeur 
 and magnificence ; while the boxes of the Parisian 
 theatres are approached through paltry narrow passages, 
 which the poorest troop of itinerants in England would 
 esteem beneath their consequence to endure. But on the 
 other hand, those scenes of licentiousness and those open 
 violations of virtuous feeling which disgrace our London 
 box lobbies and saloons^ are not permitted at Paris. 
 The grossness of the libertine and the professional 
 allurements of the courtezan form no part of the arrange- 
 ment from which profit or patronage is sought to be 
 obtained by the managers or committee of a theatrical 
 speculation in the French capital, except indeed of the 
 very lowest sort. The mode of lighting is by a very 
 
217 
 
 large circle of lamps, in a double row, suspended from 
 the top : the effect of this is advantageous as far as the 
 power of the illumination extends, but being unassisted 
 by chandeliers placed round the boxes, it is insufficient 
 to dispel the gloom. This, perhaps, is intentional: 
 the principal object of attraction is the stage, and the 
 Salle du Theatre is designedly kept darkened, in order 
 to give encreased eclat to the dresses and scenery. The 
 plan of the principal houses differs very much from our 
 own, with the exception of the Opera. The lower tier 
 of boxes is private, and faced with a moveable grille or 
 trellis work : above this is the balcon, or what we 
 should call the dress-circle ; in the rear of which is 
 another row of grillees, or private boxes : these are sur- 
 mounted by the amphitheatre, and the petites loges ; 
 and the uppermost tier is called the paradis. The last 
 gallery does not recede as with ours, nor do the Gods 
 constitute so formidable a phalanx as diat of an Eng- 
 lish Olympus. From the considerable space occupied 
 by private boxes, that gay and elegant appearance 
 produced by the presence of the ladies in our English 
 houses, is but faintly displayed in the French theatres. 
 The pit is divided into the parterre, the parquet, and 
 the orchestre : this last consists of three or four of the 
 front rows ; and at the Opera-house is charged the full 
 box price, and generally filled with ladies ; no females sit 
 in any other part of the pit. The theatres of Paris are 
 not equally numerously attended. The Opera is always 
 crowded ; and so completely wrapt in ecstasy is every 
 French sensation by the charms of this their darling 
 spectacle, that neither heat nor pressure, nor *ny other 
 uncomfortable circumstance has power to annoy them, 
 until the curtain drops# I cannot here refrain from 
 
 Ff 
 
218 
 
 taking occasion to mention an act of civility which was 
 shewn to us as strangers. Going to the Opera the second 
 night of our arrival, we were ushered into a private box, 
 already occupied by a large well-dressed company ? 
 (French) who although but scantily accommodated 
 with room themselves, instantly arranged their chairs 
 to make a space for us. Encouraged by these spon- 
 taneous attentions, I made bold to ask questions of the 
 ladies respecting the piece and the actors — was favoured 
 most politely with the requested information ; a spy-glass 
 was borrowed for me ; and all this during the perform- 
 ance of the beautiful ballet of Flore et Zephire, when 
 every body was in raptures with the sylph-like move- 
 ments of Monsieur Albert and Mademoiselle Bigotine. 
 This instance of good breeding was additionally credi- 
 table, inasmuch as the regulations for engaging boxes 
 are very strict, and the party in question was sufficiently 
 numerous to have claimed our exclusion, had they been 
 so disposed. 
 
 The French Drama is much too tight laced and arti- 
 ficial — too closely restricted by the classic unities of time^ 
 place, and action, to be congenial with English taste 
 and sympathies : the frequency of soliloquy; and the 
 dialogue being a constant alternation of long-winded 
 speeches in rhyme, though supported with great vehe- 
 mence of tone, was what I never could long listen 
 to with any tolerable degree of interest. Now and 
 then a hero or heroine would rouse me from Lethean 
 dulness by " tearing a passion to tatters;*' for in the 
 histrionic art, as practised at least by the Talmas, the 
 Saint Prix > the Duchenois, and other eminent tragedians 
 of the day, it seems to be not a defect but a merit, to 
 u o'ersfep the modesty of Nature." The Parisians, ia- 
 
219 
 
 deed, delight in the exhibition of Tragedy on her 
 highest stilts —the more sublimely she soars above the 
 level of genuine feeling, of the chastened impulses of 
 heartfelt sentiment, the more incessant and thundering 
 they are in their plaudits* Their dramatic enthusiasm 
 is extreme : every other sentence appears to contain a 
 charm, and if any passage superlatively fine be coming, 
 all hands are ready to welcome it by anticipation, or 
 rather to drown its concluding words in noise and accla- 
 mation. Unless, however, a person enters immediately 
 and intimately into the sense and spirit of the play, 
 there is nothing else to divert him ; for at the Theatre 
 Francuis but little change of scene takes place, either 
 in Tragedy or Serious Comedy, a rule which, however 
 correct it may be, sometimes leads to inconsistencies* 
 The performers in general, both men and women, are 
 excellent ; and whether in the f arioso of heroics, in the 
 * tempest and whirlwind" of the Tragic Muse's inspi* 
 ration, or in the most extravagant effusion of Comic 
 talent, they retain a proper self command, and never 
 fail in a most essential point— 4he qualification of being 
 perfect. Among the peculiarities of the French theatres 
 is the regulation of paying at one place and entering at 
 another, which is rather troublesome and intricate ; 
 and the privilege, which every one may exercise, of 
 visiting every part of the house, by means of a pass 
 ticket, allowing, however, a seat only where it was first 
 taken. In the foyer ^ or saloon, books of the play and 
 refreshments are sold ; it is paraded only by the male 
 part of the audience, and consequently offers to our 
 English loungers a very insipid scene, compared with 
 the meretricious assemblages in the lobbies of Drury 
 Lane and Covent Garden, The orchestras are unjU 
 
 Ff2 
 
220 
 
 fbrmly good : even at the minor theatres the bands of 
 instrumental music are numerous, powerful, and com- 
 posed of superior performers. t 
 
 The Palais Royal. — There is always something new, 
 always something frappant in this temple of trade and 
 pleasure — no one, while in Paris, needs submit to be- 
 come the slave of ennui who has the least relish for the 
 study of character, since such opportunities of investi- 
 gation offer themselves beneath the piazzas and in the 
 saloons of the Palais Royal. Its accommodations and 
 egremens are unequalled by those of any otber place. 
 In viewing the Gardens, from BilUote's windows, (the 
 restaurateur's where we most commonly dined) our eyes 
 were always attracted by a lively, varied, and agree- 
 able picture : the Parisians enjoying themselves in 
 walking, reading, sipping their lemonade, orgeat, or 
 ice. To be out of doors is their delight — a shower 
 comes, but it cannot drive them from their seats ; um- 
 brellas are up, and they sit quietly in knots, chatting 
 sociably together. In fact, the French are never more 
 at home, in every thing that concerns the gratification 
 of their own feelings, than when abroad. Little scrupu- 
 lous or mindful about where they reside, their hours of 
 leisure and recreation are spent in these places of public 
 resort: and indeed, if a deficiency in the domestic 
 qualities is under any circumstances to be excused, it is 
 perhaps at Paris, where the amusements of the prome- 
 nade are so engaging and so diversified. Not content 
 •with furnishing regular " salles d' abonnement et de 
 lecture" to the lovers of light reading (a predominat- 
 ingly numerous class in this and every other capital) the 
 Mercuries of literature bring their feuilles here into the 
 open air ; and beneath the shade (not patulce fogi y but) 
 
221 
 
 <rf a large umbrella, the quid nunc takes his pennyworth 
 of the Moniteur and other Journals. Or, should more 
 than one occupation require to be attended to at one 
 time, the shoe-black has his little boutique ambulante % 
 where you may have your boots polished by his dex- 
 trous brush, and your mind enlightened by those prodi- 
 gies of intelligence, the Paris papers, " and all for the 
 sum of one halfpenny !" 
 
 Of the innumerable Caffes and Restaurateurs of 
 Paris, none are more celebrated for the spaciousness and 
 elegance of their apartments, the taste of their arrange- 
 ments, the choice variety of their larders, and the ex- 
 quisite skill of the cookery, than those of the Palais Rot/ah 
 Every body has heard of Very's fame — his establish* 
 nient is the most sumptuous, but he makes you pay. 
 It is very well to take a few of the best in the round, 
 Such as Beauvillier's, ( Rue de Richelieu ) and the 
 Rocher de Cancale, a renowned house for fish; but the 
 spirit of curiosity and the love of novelty are in this case 
 soon satisfied, and by adhering to one we found superior 
 advantages of comfort and attention. 
 
 u Vain, very vain, my weary task" would be to 
 describe the " humours" of a restaurateur dinner; 
 to explain 66 the various ways of cooking a calf's 
 head," as enumerated in the lengthy bill of fare, (la carte 
 a manger ) which they lay before you. Some experience 
 is necessary in selecting articles from a table (with 
 prices affixed) which in the large houses contains more 
 than 200 different dishes, and an equally varied assort- 
 ment of wines and liqueurs.* Nothing of the kind can 
 
 * A dinner at Billiote's consisting of Soup, Bouillon, Fish, Frican* 
 deau a la chichore, Salade 9 Omcllette Soufiee, Fromage de Neu/chat§l 9 
 Oranges, Caffe, and Noyau, with excellent Vin de Grave, Bonne? and 
 good Claret, a bottle of each, cost us 10s* a head* 
 
222 
 
 surpass the neat and respectable manner in which the 
 tables are set out, the attentiveness and activity of the 
 waiters, and the order and regularity with which the 
 numerous guests are served in these handsome apart- 
 ments, where every party is insulated at pleasure, 
 though placed amidst a crowd of others, intent on the 
 same objects of satisfying the cravings of appetite, or 
 of pampering the taste for Epicureanism, which is no 
 where perhaps carried to such a pitch of refinement and 
 connoisseurship as in (his capital. Le Gourmand for 
 quantity, and le Gastronome for quality, distinguish the 
 two classes of Parisian amateurs de bonne chere : and to 
 judge from the egoistic manners of some of these 
 stomach worshippers, these idolizers of the palate, it 
 would seem that to invent luxurious viands, and to eat 
 dainty bits, was the only important business of life ! 
 
 In these public dining rooms the master and mistress 
 of the house are to be found at the top of the room, 
 seated quite in state behind the comptoir, a sort of 
 bar, covered with liqueurs, and with fruits and 
 flowers of the season, sometimes in such embowering 
 luxuriance, that Monsieur and Madame look like Ver- 
 tumnus and Flora. The introduction of the ladies to 
 Cajfcs and respectable houses of restauration, is regarded 
 as perfectly accordant with propriety : it adds very 
 greatly to the civilization and urbanity of the place, 
 and is not without its convenience to strangers, who 
 have their families with them. Now and then, among 
 the multiplicity of characters that come under observa- 
 tion, some curious and laughable incidents arise. Oc- 
 casion has already been taken to remark that the French 
 are innately imbued with the esprit dramatique : no 
 wonder they should make such good st#ge-players, 
 
223 
 
 since even u when they are off they are acting." I re* 
 member an amusing Coup de Theatre of this sort hap- 
 pening one afternoon at Billiote's. At the close of the 
 latest dining hour, in stalks a tall elderly homme de 
 province — " a frugal swain/' whose garb and manners 
 proclaimed him to have lived < 4 remote from cities 
 his coat of coarse light blue cloth, his red waistcoat, his 
 jrtill deeper scarlet breeches, with azure stockings, and 
 short leather gaiters— -a stout staff in his hand, and his 
 broad slouched hat carried en chapeau bras. After 
 staring round him with " lack-lustre eye" for a moment 
 or two, as if looking for somebody to accost, he turns 
 to a gentleman who was seated by himself near the 
 door, at one of the little tables, finishing his dessert. It 
 was a young officer of good person and expressive coun- 
 tenance; in plain clothes, but retaining his military 
 stock, and a pair of very soldier-like moustachios* 
 Making his bow, with the most unsuspecting naivete in 
 the world, my honest farmer says to the gentleman, 
 * Monsieur, voire excuse—dUes moi 9 je vous prie, on est 
 Monsieur Billiote?" " Cest moi" answered the other 
 with the utmost gravity, and touching his breast with 
 the tips of the fingers of his right hand — " C*est moi 9 
 Monsieur— je m'appelle Billiote ; que voulez vous de 
 moif M Etes vous content de majille?" ( asked thc^ 
 peasant) u O qiCoui, je suis tres content de votre jille, 
 (replied the young blade) die est la meilleure Jille 
 du monde" " Que je suis ravi de Ventendre" ex- 
 claimed the countryman, and he was proceeding to 
 express all the gratitude and obligation which himself 
 and his tres chere epouse at home felt towards his 
 daughter's supposed master, who on his part kept 
 up the farce with an inflexibility of countenance and 
 
224 
 
 an archness of manner that rendered the scene irresisti- 
 bly comic ; when the real Monsieur Billiote entered, 
 and convinced the simple paysan that it was not the 
 custom for a restaurateur of the Palais Royal to sit 
 with his guests, nor to wear moustachios. 
 
 Dinner is the chief meal with the Parisians — in that 
 they make up, with a voracious appetite, exercised on 
 a succession of potages, hors d*ceuvres, entrees, and 
 entremets, for their abstemious and temperate breakfasts, 
 and still more scanty apology for a supper. A French 
 breakfast at a Caffe consists of almost as many dif- 
 ferent articles as there are people in the room — coffee, 
 tea, and chocolate, wine, liqueurs, frequently a carafe 
 of water, qualified with a petit verre aV eau-de-vie de 
 Coigniac, and a petite pain, or roll of bread, sopped in it. 
 As for le souper, a 5d. glass of lemonade, or ice, with a 
 few macaroons, or a bottle of frothy stuff, y r clept La 
 bonne double biere de Paris, and a gateau de Nanterre, 
 satisfy all demands of this sort before bed time. The 
 bread is light and good ; a prodigious deal of crust, and 
 some of it made in narrow loaves of a yard long, one of 
 which a Frenchman will tuck under his girdle without 
 any compunction. The butter is also excellent. And it is 
 almost needless to say, that they understand and prac- 
 tise to perfection the art of making good coffee. A 
 Frenchman drinks it very strong, without milk, and 
 with four or five large lumps of sugar in a cup of the 
 smallest dimensions. Buonaparte's substitution of beet 
 root for the juice of the West India cane, must have 
 been a greater annoyance to the spirit of Parisian 
 luxury thau even the Conscription or the Droits Reunis. 
 They remunerate themselves now, however, with in- 
 terest for such privations, but not with the careless 
 
225 
 
 indifference of an Englishman towards u the candle 
 ends and cheese parings" of economy : no, (heir maxim 
 is like the man's in one of our farces, u I pay for two 
 chickabiddies — one chickabiddy I eat, de oder I put in 
 my pocket." Accordingly Monsieur' or Madame finds 
 a place in the pocket or the ridicule for the surplus 
 sugar and macaroon?, that have been ordered for them- 
 selves and party. But although the general custom 
 inclines to light breakfasts, our English beef-eaters have 
 no cause to apprehend starvation. When we designed 
 to make a very long morning, it was our practice to 
 fortify against the fatigue of an extensive perambulation 
 by a dejeuner a la fourchelte, at the Caffe Valois (Palais 
 Royal) where we were served, besides our favourite tea 
 and their favourite caffe, with une cotelette de mouton au 
 nature!, or de veau en papillotte, seasoned with saucisse 
 de Lyon, and washed down with a glass of London 
 Porter. A 11 this is managed in the most commodious 
 and comfortable stile : indeed the neat, cleanly, and 
 decorous appearance of the Cqffes in a morning, and 
 their splendour in an evening, surpass the Coffee-houses 
 and Taverns of London, as much as the interior arrange- 
 ments of our private houses of respectability are superior 
 to the domestic habitations and household economy of 
 the Parisians. 
 
 The Marchandes a la toilette, who frequent the 
 caffes and restaurateurs also claim a word of notice. 
 This class of tradeswomen would give a novel fea- 
 ture to an English tavern, coming round, as they do 
 here, to the different tables, at breakfast, or dinner, or 
 in the evening, with their box filled with perfumery, 
 gloves, bijouterie, pocket-books, bons bons, &c. and 
 accosting each party with the soliciting interrogatory of 
 
226 
 
 " Voulez vous acheter quelque chose?'*'* Nor is the 
 sphere of their occupations confined to the range of a 
 Cqffe* It is not contra bonos mores in this gay city, for 
 a young demoiselle of this description to wait on gentle- 
 men at their lodgings, if desired, with a sample of 
 her merchandize : nay, " Honi soit qui mal y penscj* 
 the master of the most creditable hotel deems it no 
 scandal, it is indeed a matter of course, to allow them 
 to wait on their lodgers of both sexes. Mademoiselle 
 will even indulge you. Sir, in the whim of bringing you 
 a few pair of silk stockings, before your lever : w ill sit 
 and gossip by your bedside with perfect non chalance, 
 and then take her leave unconscious of the least impro- 
 priety. An Englishwoman pursuing the same routine 
 of avocations would be apt to fall into the extreme 
 either of timidity or of impudence: but these lively, 
 pleasant, easy Parisiennes y it would seem, play their 
 parts with prudence and circumspection, as to the 
 more intimate terms of acquaintance, for which such 
 interviews may be sought by some of their customers ; 
 nor are they so easily to be won as some of our purse- 
 proud libertines are apt to imagine. In point, however, 
 of politeness and an obliging assiduity of manners, fre- 
 quently enhanced by talents for rational conversation, 
 some are to be found of no common rate ; and as to 
 vivacity and quickness of repartie, they prove generally 
 more than a match for the different characters they 
 have to encounter. Of one of these young women, in 
 particular, the spirited lines of Pope recur tome as de- 
 scribing the qualifications and the deportment : 
 
 " Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose, 
 " Qui k as her eyes, and as unfixed as those. 
 " Favours to none, to all she smiles extends, 
 f Oft she rejects, but never once offends." 
 
227 
 
 While on (lie subject of Caffes and the Palais Royal, 
 I must mention that of La Rotonde, which, illuminated 
 in the evening, forms a favourite rallying point to the 
 promeneurs of the gardens. The Caffe de la Paix, for- 
 merly the Montansier Theatre, still retains its theatric 
 form and its old reputation of being the resort of the 
 femmes galantes and their paramours. It was the focus 
 of assembly for the Buonapartists, and in consequence 
 of the openly disaffected proceedings that were carried 
 on in it every night for some weeks previous to the 
 return of Napoleon, all its windows were broken and 
 the furniture destroyed by a party of the Gardes da 
 Corps. Gens d'Armes are now constantly stationed at 
 the entrance to preserve order, which, independent of 
 political considerations, is an expedient measure, as the 
 company is the very reverse of select. But the most 
 popular is the Cajfe des Mille Colonnes, so called from 
 the curious and pleasing deception, produced by the 
 plate mirrors with which its suite of apartments is lined, 
 and which reflecting, and multiplying the reflection, of 
 the architectural embellishments and other objects ani- 
 mate and inanimate, give to the place the effect of a 
 thousand times its real size and intrinsic splendour. 
 Nothing is to be done in these Caffes without a woman 
 as the ostensible head of affairs. Every body con- 
 versant with the attraits de Paris, recollects La Belle 
 Limonadiere of the Caffe des Mille Colonnes. Having 
 survived the eclat of her beauty, she has given place to 
 a lady of more youthful charms, and respecting whom, as 
 the JDeesse Presidente for the time being, and a handsome 
 personal spectacle, it may be worth a note or two to 
 detail what little items make up the sum total of her 
 divinity, before whose shrine the nocturnal ceremonies of 
 
 Gg2 
 
228 
 
 this celebrated establishment are at present performed. 
 In a part of the room judiciously chosen for an advan- 
 tageous display, La Belle Romaine, (her name, if I 
 rightly remember) is seated in an elegant fauteuil of 
 classic form, elevated en trone. Before her is the 
 comptoir, of equally superb workmanship, the tablet of 
 which consists of a fine mirror ; on this reflecting sur- 
 face are placed some dozen silver saucers, filled with 
 lumps of sugar, a range of beautiful flowers, assorted in 
 bouquets, and placed in stands of finely-painted porce- 
 lain ; a gilt box for the Garcon*s ft es, an inkstand of 
 the same costly appearance, and a little gilt bell to call 
 the attention of the waiters to the guests. The lady's 
 dress and ornaments are equally elegant and splendid* 
 and a change is made in them every evening ; her hair 
 is dressed in an extremely tasteful stile, and with the 
 most elaborate nicety. In order to beguile the vacant 
 mome nts, and dissipate the ennui that unavoidably at- 
 taches to her situation, Mademoiselle occasionally writes 
 a billet 9 folds, seals, and puts it into her ridicule, with 
 other nonsense previously scribbled. All this gives 
 opportunity to display her alabaster neck, her finely 
 rounded arms, her delicate hands and taper fingers. 
 She reads, or seems to read ; then says pretty nothings 
 to the freluquets who are near her : she has a courteous 
 reception for those who approach the comptoir, either 
 to offer their devoirs, or to pay their reckoning ; and a 
 graceful inclination of the head, in return for the conge 
 which it is the respectful etiquette of the place to 
 make before La Belle Limonadiere at entrance and 
 departure. 
 
 One single visit to the Gaming Tables of the Palais 
 Royal was sufficient for us. To see a crowd of folks 
 
 4>- 
 
229 
 
 assembled together, without a social tie to bind them : 
 to observe every mind engaged in one object, without 
 an union of sentiment, or an operating motive save that 
 of self-interest. Chance the power invoked — Gold the 
 deity worshipped — Fraud the pontiff of the sacrifice — 
 Principle the victim : and man the prey of man. O S 
 the passion for play ! W hat metamorphosis can human, 
 nature undergo so fearfully complete as that to which 
 this vice of hellish birth has power to change it f The 
 entree to these shrines of the fickle and infatuating 
 Goddess gives preparation to the feeling of the novice : 
 mysferious silence pervades even the antichamber, and 
 our hats, &c. are exchanged for numbered tickets by 
 the attendants without a word passing. The first room 
 was appropriated to the game of Roulette^ a sort of 
 whirling (Eo) table; ostensibly a game of chance, sub* 
 ject, however, there is great cause to believe, to all the 
 tricks of knavery. From thence we proceeded through 
 two other spacious, well-furnished, and brilliantly lighted 
 apartments, where, at long tables, surrounded by a nu- 
 merous band of adventurers, some seated and others 
 standing, the game of Rouge et Noir was played. At 
 the former of these rooms they dealt in silver ; at the 
 latter in gold. This Rouge et Noir (founded of course 
 on the turning up of the black and white suits) appears to 
 be tolerably free from unfair proceedings. The bankers 
 (two in number) sit in the middle of the table opposite 
 each other, with little wooden scrapers in their hands, iiwl 
 are alternately employed in turning up the cards, and 
 in paying and receiving the money won and lost. The 
 business is performed with astonishing celerity, and not 
 a syllable utterred, except at the end of each deal 
 ? Rouge" or a Noir a gagne" I could not but be 
 
230 
 
 struck in contemplating the physiognomies of the per- 
 sons engaged, with the absorption of mind and intensity 
 of thought which many of them indicated. There is 
 something very peculiar in the air and manners of a 
 professed gamester. One or two of these wore the 
 Cross of Saint Louis. A gentleman thus decorated ac* 
 costed my friend : he appeared well acquainted with 
 St. James's, and complained of being neglected at the 
 Thuilleries ; his appearance, which evinced the charac- 
 teristics of the gourmand as well as of the gamester, re- 
 pressed in this instance our sympathies for his misfor- 
 tunes and their ingratitude! There was an old man, in 
 the costume of the ancien regime, bag wig, and solitaire, 
 evidently an emigre, whose chief employment, like 
 many other cautious gentry with slender purses, was 
 that of pricking on a card the run of the suits, and now 
 and then venturing a chance: whilst others, boldly 
 hazarding, encreased or diminished their golden heaps 
 in gigantic collections and transfers. 
 
 Streets.— In point of convenience, spaciousness, and 
 elegance, the streets of Paris are by no means equal to 
 those of London : and for want of a side pavement 
 walking is a fatiguing operation at all times. Paris, in 
 rainy weather, is dirtier than London, as well as more 
 troublesome and dangerous to walk about in, the pave- 
 ment, formed of broad smooth stones, becoming then 
 extremely slippery. The cross streets and passages are 
 for the most part filthy beyond description ; in passing 
 through these the perambulator is in perpetual danger 
 of being literally clogged up with rubbish and decayed 
 vegetables, or almost drowned in a dark green greasy 
 mud of the worst scent in the world. Except in the 
 new street of Rivoli, and one or two others, the chan- 
 
231 
 
 nel runs through the middle, and when the wheels of 
 carriages, naturally verging to the declivity, get a firm 
 hold in these gutters , flowing with a slow and sombre 
 stream, woe betide the beau or belle that comes within 
 reach of their evolved contents ! Independent of the 
 aid to be generally expected, from the civility of 
 the people in giving directions and information, the 
 finding one's way about Paris is not difficult, after 
 proper attention paid to the course of the Seine from 
 east to west, and to the intersections of the principal 
 streets. 
 
 The equipages of the rich are more numerous and 
 handsome than formerly, but are not to be compared in 
 either respect to those of London. — There are three 
 thousand hackney-coaches in Paris, excellently regu- 
 lated, and for the most part well appointed, clean, and 
 respectable. We meet with no such travelling nuisances 
 as, under that name, are permitted to annoy and dis- 
 grace the British metropolis. 
 
 Almost every principal quarter of this capital has its 
 distinct character of inhabitants. The manner and 
 fash ions of one part are as unlike those of the other as 
 though they were miles asunder. It is this variety and 
 contrast of character and costume that render a prome- 
 nade through the streets of Paris a source of perpetual 
 amusement to the observant stranger. The newest stile 
 of dress and the most antiquated cut, may often be seen 
 passing each other without the least surprise being 
 excited in the persons themselves at the difference of 
 appearance which they respectively exhibit. In the 
 public walks and museums, where the luxury and ele- 
 gance of wealth find themselves intermingled with the 
 threadbare parade or humble coarseness of poverty, it is 
 
232 
 
 Gurious to mark the transit ion of costume from the latest 
 
 notmeaute des modes^ displayed by le bon genre of the 
 metropolis down to the provincial peculiarity of the 
 gens de peuple. 
 
 The dress of the men is wonderfully improved since 
 the period of 1802: they were then still grovelling in 
 the blackguardism of great coats, filthy whiskers, dirty 
 pantaloons, uncombed locks, tri-coloured cockades, and 
 other shabby symbols of cititemkip* At that time an 
 Englishman was distinguished chiefly by being dressed 
 more like a gentleman than a Parisian ; now a French- 
 man dresses to the full as smart as an Englishman : the 
 principal difference in the cut of a Parisian's coat is that 
 the collar is worn higher than with us. He also gives 
 his chapeau a cant on one side, pulled a little over the 
 eyes ; while John Bull's hat is thrown backoff the fore- 
 head. In the Frenchman, however, there is often a 
 want of consistent gentility in the different parts of 
 dress. 
 
 The French women, especially of the higher and 
 middling classes, dress well and modestly. The 
 naked fashion is completely exploded : whatever may 
 be the expose of female charms in a ball room in Eng- 
 land,, our countrywomen need here be under no appre- 
 hension of appearing otherwise than comme il faut, in 
 robes that do not display low bosoms and naked shoulders. 
 These little particularities are left almost exclusively 
 to the impures of (he Palais Royal. Among the Pari* 
 siennes, as among other parts of the feminine world, 
 Fashion has its devotees, who betray their blind obe- 
 dience to its capricious dictates in various forms of the 
 merveilleuse. Thus, we occasionally see ladies decked 
 out in all the extravaganza of monstrous corbeille hats, 
 
233 
 
 (so called from theif resembling baskets of flowers) 
 coejfurcs, and petticoats and stockings a la chinoise, &c. 
 But generally speaking, the ladies of this great city 
 have the merit of dressing each after that manner which 
 best becomes her. Fashion in this case becomes sub- 
 servient to person, and not person to fashion. One 
 seldom sees any thing like the mistake of putting 
 on the Canterbury cap where there is not a Canterbury 
 face : in other words, before at mode is adopted, they 
 seem to have consulted their glass, and put on their 
 " considering cap" in reference to the very material 
 facts of being either short or tail, plump or meagre, 
 handsome and well made or otherwise. There is 
 nothing to which a Parisienne evinces more attention, 
 than the fitting and neat arrangement of the chaussurc 
 (as the cloathing of the legs and feet is denominated) : 
 yet, rather than the slightest soil from the streets should 
 pollute the skirts of her robe, even the delicate shoe of 
 Cinderella diminutiveness, and the silken transparency 
 of " thg taper.. leg," will be exposed, and even the 
 mysteries of the order of the garter be for a moment 
 divulged to eyes profane, 4 in crossing a kennel, or in 
 stepping into a carriage I 
 
 Among the class of Marchandes (as I have already 
 had occasion to observe) are very many in whom a 
 modest and tasteful simplicity of drerss, setting off a 
 pretty and animated countenance and an elegant figure, 
 is to be found accompanied with a certain gentility of 
 carriage, and with that " happy knack" of keeping up 
 the shuttlecock of conversation, w hich seems indeed to 
 be an intuitive qualification in the Parisicnnes, from 
 the high to the low. The women of France must cer- 
 tainly yield the palm of beauty to " the Fair of Britain's 
 
 H h 
 
234 
 
 Isle/* By our own countrywomen they are also ex- 
 celled in other and still more important qualifications, 
 which by every man of delicacy and principle, will be 
 prized as the brightest ornaments that can adorn the 
 sex. Yet, is it necessary only to frequent the publio 
 places, as we have done, with tolerably observant eyes, 
 in order to be convinced that this capital possesses an 
 ample and interesting proportion of female charms ; 
 and as to the broad assertion, so often and so harshly 
 repeated by certain English tourists, (currente calamo 
 and currente pede ) denouncing the Parisiennes, in the 
 lump, as deficient both in virtue and decency — such a 
 remark, like most others of a general kind, whilst it 
 argues no little rashness, involves extreme prejudice and 
 exaggeration, and is besides opposed, in its sweeping 
 operation, by numberless exceptions of the most re- 
 spectable and amiable description, as any candid and 
 impartial person who has had the least insight into pri- 
 vate society will, I conceive, be-ready to admit. That 
 intrigue and gallantry, as well as profligacy of every 
 sort, find themselves in a congenial element at Paris — it 
 would be foolish to doubt or deny : on the other hand, 
 however, it would be equally illiberal and erroneous to 
 conclude that, even in the midst of these wide fields 
 which vice and folly seem peculiarly to mark for their 
 own, the domestic, the conjugal, and the filial virtue* 
 do not find many spots of fruitful soil to thrive in — 
 although the practical duties of morality and religion 
 may not here, perhaps, always be found accompanied 
 by that austerity of outward deportment, or that gloomy 
 cast of thought, observable among a people of less lively 
 character and of more restrained habits. 
 
 As connected with the general subject of men and 
 
235 
 
 manners, and as evidencing in some measure the feelings 
 and opinions of the French, both in regard to them- 
 selves and foreign nations, it may not be amiss to advert 
 here to Caricatures. The satire of design is 
 become much in vogue among the Parisians, but its 
 province is almost wholly confined to the ridicule of 
 fashion, and to the excitement of laughter against u the 
 foreigner," especially the English, who are held up in 
 almost every ludicrous and every degrading point of 
 view, that .national prejudice, ignorance, and malignity 
 can deyise. French caricatures, indeed, are seldom 
 good of their kind : the disposition which they most fre- 
 quently evince, to make up in grossness and ill-nature 
 what they want in humour and originality, produces 
 nothing but disgust and contempt. My friend and I 
 used to&nuise ourselves at the print-shops 01 the Palais 
 Moyal^ the Quays, and Boulevards, with casting many 
 a look askance at the badauds of both sexes who were 
 standing near us, and who seemed perfectly disconcerted 
 at the risibility in which we indulged, as they con- 
 sidered, at our own expence. I remember paying to a 
 person who appeared inquisitively to be watching the 
 effect of one of these paltry effusions of spleen against 
 my country, that it astonished ine much to find some 
 of the caricaturists were so completely unacquainted 
 w ith the true principles arid spirit of their art, that they 
 did not feel the necessity of retaining some little re- 
 semblance to the object intended to be ridiculed : then 
 pointing to one where John Bull, delineated as a sort 
 of beast in human shape, is seen devouring r$w poultry 
 like a Cannibal, whilst his hag of 3. wife, and three 
 horrible imps of daughters, are munching melons and 
 grapes like swine— Surely (I added) you have had 
 
 H h 2 
 
236 
 
 better opportunities of knowing the slate of English 
 ciwlization than to call such vile trash a picture after 
 life f Monsieur, ce ne sont la que les Anglais pour 
 rire" was all the reply of my Parisian. Et voila done, 
 les Anglais pour respecter" continued I, pointing to 
 some engravings representing the different troops com? 
 posing the British army. iC Oest vrai" rejoined the 
 man good humouredly enough, and passed on. He 
 seemed at all events to allow the fairness of the quid pro 
 quo. Another compliment of the same well-founded na- 
 ture is to represent a young English lady fallen from her 
 horse, and fainting in the arms of a Frenchman, supposed 
 to be accidentally on the spot, while her father is ex- 
 clusively occupied in applying a smelling bottle to the 
 nostrils of her horse, as it lies extended on the ground. 
 This they inscribe La Sensihilite Anglaise" But the 
 worst of all is one which pretends to be founded on a 
 recent event which occurred during the time our troops 
 occupied Paris. The scene i§ the Canal de VOurcq : it 
 is winter, and people are amusing themselves with 
 skaiting; in the foreground a frightful accident has 
 taken place — the ice has broken in y/ith several of out 
 own soldiers ; the Parisians on this occasion are repre- 
 sented flocking to the spot to render assistance, and 
 gome, at the hazard of their lives, are rescuing our 
 countrymen from a watery grave ; while the English 
 picket-guard are sitting at the head of the Canal, 
 smoking their pipes, drinking, and looking on with the 
 most inflexible indifference. The motto to this print is 
 "Anglais, voila les Frangais ! / / This precious delinea- 
 tion of a lying fact should be bound up with Monsieur 
 le General Pillefs absurd but not on that account less 
 atrocious libel, which still fa permitted to be exposed on 
 
237 
 
 the book-stalls of the Palais Royal ! I could not but be 
 highly diverted at the complacency with which in these 
 prints they puff offthe invigorating and nutritious effects 
 of French living. A poor half-starved hypocondriac, 
 stepping from a packet boat, is made to personate aa 
 Englishman just landing on the French shore ; in the. 
 next compartment we have an over-fed hog of a fellow, 
 wheeling his susquepedality of paunch in a barrow, and 
 this forsooth is John Bull on his return home ! Amidst 
 all this spiteful and insipid trumpery, there are some 
 droll hits at the low-collared coats, loose fitting gaiters, 
 and bushy hair of our meg.; the Wellington pantaloons 
 and small cocked hats of our officers, and the flat bonnets 
 and head dresses, Jong-waisted spencers, and stooping 
 gait of our women. Nevertheless, with respect to the 
 last-mentioned subjects of their caricature criticism, the 
 joke had already become absolete : with such prompti- 
 tude do our fair countrywomen take the hints that arc 
 furnished to them from this side of the channel. 
 
 The military character of the French remains un- 
 changed : they are accustomed to and fond of every 
 thing that has the cc pride, pomp, and circumstance" of 
 war. Equally enamoured are they of crosses and or- 
 ders, and bits of blue and red ribbon— every tenth man, 
 at least, we met in the streets, wore one of these deco- 
 rations, some four or five : to these honor es the sentinels 
 carry arms, whether in or out of uniform, from the 
 Croix de Saint Louis to the Croix d* Honneur, and to 
 the petty ornament of the " Fleur de LisP The Garde 
 Royale supply the place of the Garde Imperiale, and 
 are a fine set of men. Then there are the Departmental 
 Legions, dressed in white ; good troops. The national 
 Guards are a soldier-like body of men ; they amount t& 
 
238 
 
 40,000 in Paris alone, and 5000 are constantly on duty. 
 Great reliance is placed on their loyalty by the friends 
 of the present Government. These gentry give them- 
 selves all the consequential airs of the " gem d'epee, 
 and seem prouder of their great caps than they are of 
 their muskets. Punctual to his turn of duty, the maitre 
 (F hotel with whom you are lodging, or the gargon that 
 serves your breakfast at the Caffe, will probably meet 
 your eye as a military man before night, standing sen- 
 tinel at some public institution, or perhaps doing duty 
 at the Thuilleries. 
 
 The lower classes of the Parisians are au industrious, 
 yet thoughtless race : they toil hard for the moment 
 that is passing ; but not with a view to future advantage 
 in la ving by something for a rainy day. The mechanic 
 pursues his calling with ardour and ingenuity ; but it is 
 chiefly to enjoy the fruits of his labour at the next fete 
 champetre — or in the roving pleasures of a Sunday ex- 
 cursion, with his wife or his sweetheart. While at 
 work, the most frugal meal — a crust of bread covered 
 with espinage ; a bunch of grapes, or a plate of cherries, 
 washed down with the cheap beverage doled out to him 
 in the street by the walking seller of lis an, contents the 
 artisan of this capital. As to their amusements, they 
 are far from being of the noisy and turbulent kind ; still 
 further do they appear from being sought for in assem- 
 blages that lead to drunkenness. A walk on the Bou- 
 levards serves better, perhaps, than any other means of 
 observation, to discover their taste for diversions : 
 gaming, music, and dancing, have evidently great at- 
 tractions. The game of domino is much played by the 
 middle and lower orders. Musiciens ambulants some- 
 times make respectable concerts with hcirps and violins. 
 
239 
 
 accompany ing agreeable voices to the vaudevilles of the 
 day: even the ballad singers have a graceful air with 
 them. The cups and ball-men display their dexterity 
 on the Boulevards ; where the mcmntebank and his jack 
 pudding, with punchinello in their neighbourhood, 
 present scenes of entertainment, of which the fun and 
 spirit is infinitely enhanced by the inherent disposition 
 ef the spectators to be actors themselves ! 
 
 As to the state of religion among the manufacturing 
 class of Parisians, there is every appearance of its con- 
 tinuing at a very low ebb. I had some conversation 
 with the proprietor of a considerable establishment for 
 the fabrication of opera glasses and stick umbrellas on 
 this subject. He was clearly no lover of the ancient 
 faith — his opinion is, that the old influence of the Priest- 
 hood will never be regained by them, although, ac- 
 cording to him, the Romish clergy were straining every 
 nerve to attain it again : " the people of Paris (he said) 
 laugh at Catholicism ; but unfortunately (added he) 
 they treat the general topic of morality and religion, as 
 a matter of faith and practice, with the same degree of 
 levity and indifference !" A s to the outward observance, 
 however, of the Sabbath-day, and other circumstances 
 connected with the solemnities of Divine Worship, 
 things are certainly much improved, since the period 
 ©f my former visit, when the regulations for this serious 
 purpose vibrating between the re-establishment of the 
 Sunday festival, and the Republican Decade, the shops 
 were never shut, and the church of Notre Dame used 
 to serve as a " glorious lounge" for the people : there 
 they flocked to read the advertisements of all kinds 
 posted on the pillars and doors ; and lest those who went 
 tljere really for the sake of devotion, should indulge top 
 
240 
 
 long in seriotis thoughts, the gates of the Cathedral were* 
 closely invested by troops of singers, charlatans, and 
 pnppet-shewmen, who, with drums, trumpets, and vo- 
 ciferations, saluted the pious churchman, on his entree 
 and exit. Indeed, it then required the most collected 
 state of mind to remember, for five minutes together, 
 that the day was Sunday ; the only apparent difference 
 being, that the Theatres and other places of amusement 
 were more numerously attended. So much for a picture 
 of religion in Paris, under Buonaparte's Consular Go- 
 vernment ! * At present these things are ordered better i 
 the shops are all shut on the Sunday, and there is a much 
 greater decorum observable in the manners of the Pari- 
 sians at Church : nor do the soldiery, as in the days of 
 la Republique, stalk in with their hats upon their heads, 
 and sabres clattering at their iron heels, bearding the 
 priest as he officiated at the altar, with looks of derision 
 and scorn, as I remember to have seen them do in those 
 golden days of freedom and equality I Some restraint 
 also appears to be now placed on that open exposition 
 of indecent publications and prints, which formerly 
 disgraced the shops and foyers. Quite enough latitude, 
 however, still remains allowed in this respect ; and 
 women may be remarked looking at the engravings, with 
 but little delicacy or discriminative avoidance. 
 
 This leads me to say a word or two respecting the 
 Parisian Trades-folks ; who, in fourteen years, have 
 obviously not been on the stand-still. Some of the shops 
 in the Palais Royal present specimens of oriental rich- 
 ness in their jewellery and goldsmithery — and in the 
 Hues St. Honor e and Richelieu, there are others, in 
 silk and linen drapery, that rival souse of the first in 
 
 * Journal of 1802. 
 
241 
 
 London for extent ami elegance. Much has been said 
 of Hie system of extortion which the shopkeepers prac- 
 tise, whenever they have an opportunity, on all fo- 
 reigners, and particularly on the English. To a certain 
 extent the allegation is true. And t have myself expe- 
 rienced, in my essays to marehander^ or bargain with 
 them for trinkets and other objects of nominal value, the 
 possibility of bating them down a half at least, w ithout 
 much trouble on my part and with no shame on theirs. 
 But in other branches of business, such for instance as 
 books and prints, as well as articles of decided utility, 
 they appear to adhere more closely to a fixed price — 
 and, with respect to articles of clothing and dress, being 
 recommended to wholesale houses, I found an attention 
 to character and fair dealing, which would not allow 
 me to consider the charges in question as involv- 
 ing an entire class in the obloquy of a pettifogging dis- 
 position to impose on the ignorance and inadvertency of 
 strangers. 
 
 There is a sociality and a cheerfulness among the 
 Parisians in general, which are peculiarly acceptable to 
 the transient visitor ; and with grateful feelings I bear 
 testimony, likewise, to qualities of a higher cast that are 
 to be found among some of them — to genuine friendship 
 and approved honour. The middling and lower classes 
 have, even in their national character, some traits not 
 undeserving of commendation : they content themselves 
 for the most part with what may be called the cheap 
 pleasures of life ; while our own countrymen too often 
 waste their time and property, and exhaust their spirits, 
 in search of that happiness which they vainly place in 
 the accumulation of expensive comforts. It may admit 
 of doubt whether, upon the whole 3 the English are 
 
 Ii 
 
242 
 
 more addicted to the enjoyments of eating and drinking 
 than their Gallican neighbours; yet, in convivial meet- 
 ings, those are objects of greater solicitude and conside- 
 ration with us than with them. The French continually 
 meet together : they talk, they dance, they game. Their 
 viands are light, and their beverage, whilst it is well 
 suited for the purposes of refreshment, is seldom of an 
 intoxicating quality. Ever on the wing after recreative 
 pursuits, they eagerly quit their own close and " chair- 
 lumbered closets" — their crowded apartments that serve 
 them for bed-room, " parlour, kitchen, and all," to 
 expand their respiration beneath the canopy of a fine 
 sky, or the shady covering of wide-spreading trees, that 
 temper the ardour of a delicious climate. 
 
 Such are my " recollections of Paris scanty they 
 are indeed, and deficient in that character of intelligence 
 and interest, which superior talents and more advanta- 
 geous opportunities for observation and reflection, would 
 unquestionably have imparted to them. For in no 
 place, I shall venture to repeat, can the man of taste 
 and discrimination find more favourable occasions to in- 
 dulge a fondness for literature, science, and the arts, 
 or a philosophic turn for the study of mankind, than 
 will offer themselves to him during a residence in the 
 French capital. — Pleasant, and not wholly uninstructive, 
 were the days which my friend and myself passed in 
 this celebrated city ; and we quitted it with regret. 
 
243 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Journey from Paris to Brussels. — Diligence com* 
 pardons and conversations — Peronne — Cambr ay —Miseries 
 of Stage-coach travelling — Bouchain — Valenciennes—- 
 English robbers and French protectors — Mons — The 
 Douaniers — Entrance into Belgium. 
 
 June 6th, 7th, 8th. 
 
 On Thursday, the 6th of June, we bade adieu to 
 Paris. Our friend, M. La B. accompanied us from 
 our hotel to the Bureau des Diligences, and we there 
 took leave of this worthy Frenchman with mutual ex- 
 pressions of esteem and good wishes. The journey 
 from Paris to Brussels did not prove to us a very in- 
 teresting one 2 no longer in the administration of the 
 Velocifere, we found our vehicle heavy in the extreme ; 
 but although a common French diligence gets over the 
 ground slowly enough, yet it affords few available op- 
 portunities to the passenger for looking about him. 
 Along the road through the country, we were often in- 
 dulged with a walk; our carriage following at a 
 leisurely pace, gave us ample time to survey a scenery 
 that seldom recompensed our eyes for the pains they 
 took in exploring it. On the other hand, when we ar- 
 rived at any town of sufficient importance to excite our 
 curiosity, the business of revising passports, and the 
 necessity for expedition, were held in terror em over the 
 desire of gratifying it. And, indeed, travelling upon a 
 line of road such as that of Peronne, Cambray, Valen- 
 ciennes, and Mons, in cold and rainy weather, two 
 
 112 
 
244 
 
 nights and three days, at a stretch, we may naturally 
 be supposed to have abated somewhat of that ardent 
 spirit for seeing all that is to be seen, which we had 
 evinced in journies of minor extent, and attended with 
 less fetigue and inconvenience. Taught, however, by 
 this wholesome lesson of experience, I place it on 
 " the tablets of my memory," that whilst the Diligence 
 is a conveyance of suitable and economical accommoda- 
 tion in all journies of necessity , it is the bane of " the 
 Inquisitive Traveller." 
 
 On passing the Barriere de la Villette, the first 
 objects that attracted our regards were a party of Eng- 
 lish invalid soldiers, on their march from St. Denis to 
 Cambray. Leaving at a short distance on our left the 
 large village of Gonasses, and passing through that of 
 Louvres , (both successively the head-quarters of Wel- 
 lington in his march upon Paris) we proceeded through 
 the extensive forest and fine old town of Senlis to Pont 
 St, Maxencc v a poor miserable spot, situated on the 
 river Oise^ undeserving of notice, but that its stone 
 bridge, of which the centre arches were in ruins, re- 
 minded us again of the late victorious route of the 
 British troops. At this place, 30 miles from the capital, 
 we set down to a bad dinner and worse wines, in a 
 salle de table d'hote 9 so slovenly and comfortless, that 
 we adjourned with comparative satisfaction to our 
 places in the coach, under the mild auspices of the north 
 wind blowing up torrents of rain. We continued our 
 progress with no other intermission than the time re- 
 quired tor changing horses, through a succession of 
 villages, at whose beggarly and dilapidated aspect the 
 passing stranger blesses bis kind stars that have not 
 identified his lot with the misery of such a residence. 
 
245 
 
 At two o'clock in the morning we entered Roye, in the 
 market-place of which, by the light of the moon, we 
 found ourselves among a detachment of the English 
 W aggon Train, having charge of the Duke of Welling- 
 ton's baggage ; and we learnt from the sentinels, to our 
 great regret and disappointment, that the Hero had only 
 the day before passed through on his return from Brus- 
 sels, (where we had expected to have a sight of him) to 
 Paris At Roj/e, distant from the Metropolis eighty- 
 four miles, remarkable for nothing but a tolerably 
 handsome hotel de Ville^ we stopped to partake of what 
 they called a supper Thence our course lay on a fine 
 road to Peronne^ a town of moderate size, whose fortifi- 
 cations were formerly very strong, but have been suf- 
 fered to fall into great decay since the days when it was 
 its boast never to have been taken, for which reason it 
 assumed the name of La Pucelle. From th is place ( where 
 we breakfasted) the country is agreeable, well wooded, 
 and fertile : it produces the finest crops of wheat, rye, and 
 barley ; 8ind rape-seed is grown here in great quantities. 
 Concomitant with these indications of good husbandry, 
 we observed considerable improvement in the appearance 
 of the farm-houses, which as well as the agricultural 
 buildings, are neatly and commodiously arranged. 
 The land presents very extensive prospects, and is un in- 
 closed. We were much pleased in watching the shep- 
 herds' dogs, by whose admirable sagacity and activity 
 very large flocks are kept feeding on the grassy borders 
 by the road side, and between the different crops of this 
 great corn country. A man, by the aid of two of these 
 f aithful guardians of the fold, alternately dispatched on 
 service, is enabled to keep his fleecy care within com- 
 pass, though surrounded on all sides by irresistible 
 
246 
 
 temptations to go astray. This is the practice all 
 through the French and Austrian Netherlands. 
 
 By way of digression from the beaten pave of itinerary 
 narrative, into the cross country road of incidental re- 
 mark, occasion si) all here be taken to say a word or two 
 concerning our com \pa gnons de voyage. These consisted 
 of two Danish officers in the cabriolet ; and, inside, of 
 a French gentleman and two French ladies, to whose 
 annoyance as well as our own, was added the societe 
 of a dirty sub-inspecteur des travaux publiques, not 
 fit to travel in any vehicle sweeter than a dung cart. 
 This vile sot, whose breath and exhalations, like arf* 
 rocco, tainted our little atmosphere almost to the point 
 of producing sickness, had been soothed, by the rum- 
 bling swing of the diligence, into a knack of dropping 
 his sleepy skull on the shoulders of one of the ladies. — > 
 Compassionating the disquietude and apprehension 
 which the poor gentlewoman betrayed, as well for the 
 consequences, as on account of the inconvenience, of 
 this filthy collision, I felt that there was no doing less 
 than changing places with her; and by meeting the 
 momentum of his descending pate with a corresponding 
 projection of my elbow, I ultimately succeeded in 
 forcing the brainless sconce mechanically to gravitate in 
 another direction. Still, however, the firmness of our 
 olfactory nerves continued to be assailed by "the unr 
 savory steams" proceeding from the carcase of this 
 swinish biped ; and my friend, equally attentive to the 
 emergencies of the case, besprinkled us all with a por- 
 tion of the fragrant and reviving contents of une bouteille 
 ffeau de Cologne, procured at Peronne for that special 
 purpose, which was at the same time pretty plainly 
 intimated to the delinquent in question ; but the dull 
 
247 
 
 fool remained perfectly guiltless of comprehending the 
 cause of our uneasiness and expedients. 
 
 The other Frenchman of our party formed an agree- 
 able contrast to the one above described, both in appear- 
 ance and deportment : he was a respectable looking 
 person of the middle age ; well behaved, and intelligent ; 
 not forward in conversation, but joining in it with good 
 sense and urbanity. Our discourse occasionally taking 
 a political turn, he displayed a liberality of sentiment 
 towards the English, and an appreciation of our national 
 character, more extensive and more just^ than the ge- 
 rality of his countrymen appear to entertain. On the 
 subject of the late events, he gave his opinion with 
 freedom and candour. Of the Bourbons he spoke with 
 cautious reserve. From the general complexion of 
 his remarks it was clear, however, that he was no 
 Royalist ; but he did not, like many others, attempt to 
 pass otf the egalitt rancour of disappointed jacobinism 
 under the mask of a first or second Napoleonist* On the 
 contrary, he hesitated not to characterise the return of 
 Buonaparte from Elba, and his usurpation of the power 
 and authority which he had abdicated by treaty with 
 the European powers, as acts of madness as regarded 
 himself, and of cruelty as related to the interests of 
 France, which the attempt had completely ruined.— 
 Such, he added, had been the light in which he looked 
 on Napoleon's last effort, even at the first moment 
 that the intelligence of his landing at Cannes arrived : 
 he believed they were the sentiments of a considerable 
 majority of the people ; certainly those of the most in- 
 dustrious habits and soundest principles. The soldiery, 
 and a numerous class who, under various denominations, 
 had, in the fall of the " Emperor," been hurt both in 
 
248 
 
 their pride and fortunes, thought far otherwise ; and 
 acted accordingly. To these (he canaille, ever ready 
 for a convulsion, joined a willing hand. The result had 
 been such as was to be expected from an enterprise un- 
 dertaken in the desperate spirit of profligate ambition, 
 disdainful of the maxims of public prudence, and re- 
 gardless of the claims of public honour. 
 
 The elder of the two ladies here took up the cudgels 
 for the Ex-Emperor, whose failure she attributed to the 
 want of that unanimous and efficient support which he 
 had a right to expect from a nation for whom he had 
 performed so much. Buonaparte had done more for 
 the French than any other Sovereign on record had 
 effected for a people under like circumstances to those 
 under which he was invested with the supreme power : 
 had he not (she asked) restored France to internal 
 tranquillity, re-created and increased her internal re- 
 sources, advanced her agricultural improvements, and 
 embellished the capital with the noblest monuments of 
 the arts, of which, as well as of the sciences, he had dis- 
 tinguished himself as the most literal and enlightened 
 protector ? My friend and myself both joined in com- 
 plimenting Madame on the zeal with which she had 
 advocated the cause of her Imperial favourite: we as- 
 sented to the truth of her assertions in much that re- 
 garded his talents for government in general ; and of his 
 genius for war in particular, we made the fullest acknow- 
 ledgement that could be desired by the warmest admirer 
 of his character and measures. But on the other hand 
 we contended, that what Buonaparte had built up with 
 one hand, he also pulled down with the other — that the 
 energies which he had revived, he exhausted again 
 by abusing them— that never were a people so far re- 
 
249 
 
 ftioved from the enjoyment of constitutional freedom 
 limn were the French under the legislative influence of 
 the boasted Code Napoleon — and that in no period of 
 her history had France sustained such a weight of dis- 
 aster and disgrace as had fallen upon her in this last 
 vain and unprincipled efFort to restore the tottering 
 ruins ot an Empire of Glory I Our female politician 
 was far from giving up the point to argumenfs like 
 these; and the disputation might have been converted 
 to a rather dangerous trial for the temper or La bonne 
 Francaise, when luckily the conversation taking a turn 
 which brought us to the subject of painting, the oppor- 
 tunity offered itself at once to smooth the irritabilite 
 nation ale of our petticoat Buonapartiste, and to iearn 
 some particulars relative to her family and connect ions, 
 which instantly accounted for the bias of the good lady's 
 politics ; and we subsequently found that the object 
 of her journey to Brussels was to rejoin the proscribed 
 society of a celebrated artist, no less famous for his 
 hatred to Royalty, during the sanguinary decrees of 
 the Regicide Convention, than for the equally enthusi- 
 astic homage with which be afterwards dedicated his 
 pencil to the employment of illustrating the personal 
 traits and victorious achievements of a Military Em- 
 peror I 
 
 The next topic of discourse involved some compara- 
 tive remarks respecting the costume of the French and 
 English ladies ; in which, as if in revenge for our 
 strictures on " his Majesty the Emperor and King," 
 Madame B. vented her spleen if i a grand tirade against 
 both the taste and beauty of our countrywomen. She 
 was followed by her neighbour in the same strain of 
 censure and disparagement. One ridiculed the littls 
 
 Kk 
 
250 
 
 bonnets and the flat head-dresses — hideous fashions that 
 would make a Venus look ugly. The other held up 
 long waists and tight-laced corsettes to scorn and de- 
 rision — and even our respectable Frenchman joined in 
 the laugh, which he greatly promoted by describing 
 with entertaining minuteness the certainly very peculiar 
 dress of some English women he had recently seen* 
 My worthy companion conceiving perhaps that there 
 was no good policy in combating the criticisms of the 
 female world upon each other, would have induced me 
 to cut short my vindication of the British fair, by telling 
 me I stood no chance, and had better give up. 44 Most 
 undoubtedly, (said I, addressing myself to my antago- 
 nists) my friend's advice is very prudent. I wish the 
 ladies of England what they well deserve, a better ad- 
 vocate than I can be for them, especially in French 
 society. Without denying, however, that there may be 
 some ground for your ridicule and objections, 1 shall 
 be bold to affirm that you are not competent judges of 
 the matter, who form your opinion of les modes Anglaises 
 merely from persons visiting this country— nay, perhaps 
 from the Caricatures. Were we to pursue the same plan 9 
 and adopt the ideas to which the appearance of some 
 of your countrywomen, who parade our Metropolis, is 
 calculated to give rise, we should do a great injustice to 
 the national taste and attractions of the sex in France. 
 Yet this is precisely the error which you are in the 
 habit of committing with respect to us. One of the 
 great advantages of travelling is to correct the wrong 
 impressions, not only in reference to the subject 
 of dress, (which by the bye it is one of the cha- 
 racteristics of your nation to lay more stress upon 
 than such trifles merit) but to questions of higher im* 
 
251 
 
 porfance in the knowledge of the world. Our visit to 
 Paris has enabled us to see with our own eyes, to hear 
 With our own ears, and to judge for ourselves Our 
 remarks on female dress and charms both of person and 
 manners, as displayed in that great capital, have re- 
 sulted in no unfavourable sentiments. And were you, 
 ladies, in your turn to visit London, its places of 
 public amusement and promenade would discover to 
 you, that Feminine Beauty is in England a plant of the 
 most luxuriant growth, and, cultured in the gay parterre 
 of Fashion, shines resplendent in every advantage of 
 accomplished elegance. 
 
 The road was, as usual, infested at intervals with 
 beggars, in due proportions of cripples and tumbling 
 boys. One of the latter urchins, after favouring us with 
 sundry somersets , and other proofs of agility, exclaimed 
 Vive le Rot: this he repeated lustily— Vive le 72o/— 
 Vive Louis Dix Huit. M. gave him a sous. u Give 
 him two," says Madame B. u and he'll sing out what- 
 ever you like." The bribe was instantly offered, if he 
 would exclaim " Vive V Empereur" The boy shouted 
 still louder Vive le Roi. " Vive Buonaparte," was re- 
 turned from the carriage. a V Empereur— 
 
 a bas Buonaparte — and Vive le Roi, was all we could 
 get from the sturdy rogue : so there remained nothing 
 more than for us to reward him for his contumacy, and 
 for Mrs. B. to chew the cud of her wrong calculation. 
 Our approach to the head-quarters of the British Army 
 of Occupation, was announced to us by small detach- 
 ments of red coats cantoned in the adjacent villages.— 
 And at the gates of Gambray we presented our pass- 
 ports to French Douaniers, and exchanged salutations 
 with English sentinels — the British Grenadier Guards 
 
 Kk2 
 
252 
 
 doing duty on the fortifications of an archiepiscopal 
 city of France, \vith their Waterloo Medals on ! Par- 
 don me, ye sensitive mourners over the fallen destinies 
 of " the Great Nation," when I confess, political sinner 
 as 1 am, that I never felt more proud, than at that mo- 
 ment, of being an Englishman ! The situation of 
 Cambray in a rich and populous district, studded with 
 villages covered with the varied produce of cultivation, 
 and watered by the " lazy Scheldt," the commanding 
 eminence of its citadel, and the proud elevation of its 
 noble Cathedral, proclaimed the grandeur and interest 
 of the place ; though but dimly seen through a rainy 
 atmosphere. The deep ditches and lofty ramparts of 
 curtain and bastions, faced with stone, presenting three 
 formidable lines oi circumvallation, round these strong 
 places, and strengthened with ravelins, counterguards, 
 horn works, and other precautionary defences, are cal- 
 culated to excite in the minds of unprofessional observers 
 a feeling of wonder as to the practicability of rendering 
 them the object of successful attack ; yet, with all the 
 very great improvements on the walls #nd towers and 
 moats of pneient days, made since gunpowder was in- 
 vented, engineers will tell us, and experience has 
 proved, that the advantages are generally on the side of 
 the besiegers, from their numerical superiority and the 
 more concentrated fire of their batteries. The capture 
 of this city, however, by a detachment of Lord Wel- 
 lington's army last year, although facilitated by the 
 assistance of the inhabitants themselves, was unques- 
 tionably a very bold coup de main. On passing through 
 the last drawbridge and gate, we found ourselves amidst 
 handsome houses and spacious streets, and, seizing a 
 hasty view of the exterior magnificence of Notre 
 
253 
 
 Dame, a superb Gothic structure, we drove through the 
 Great Square, called the Place d'armes, and alighted 
 at our destined Inn. 
 
 One of " the Miseries of Human Life" is, travelling 
 in a Stage-coach (whether in France or elsewhere), to 
 arrive at a place of magnitude and consideration, the 
 clouds all the time pouring down a deluge of waters ; 
 unable to stir out, the only apparently rational course to 
 adopt that of refreshing our jaded persons with needful 
 ablutions, and satisfying our famished stomachs in sor- 
 rowful hope of fairer weather — an ill-served repast de- 
 voured in haste, and scarcely completed when the 
 vehicle is announced ready to start again ! This misery 
 was ours at Cambray ; which (obedient to the inexora- 
 ble summons of Monsieur le Conducteur^ who, having 
 money bags in his charge, was anxious about night-fall) 
 we incontinently quitted without more ado; even with- 
 out entering the venerable pile, illustrated by the pastoral 
 chair of Fenelon, to revolve, as we would gladly have 
 done, in our enraptured remembrance, the beauties, the 
 sublimity, the moral of TmhEM achus, at the tomb of 
 its immortal author. A mong other novel features 
 which the town assumed, for the accommodation of its 
 British garrison, we did not fail to notice many build- 
 ings designated with inscriptions in our own mother 
 tongue, such as " Army Saddler"---" London Coffee 
 House"—" English Reading Room." At Cambray 
 our sweet-scented S/r, the Inspecteuf, took his leave, 
 and had good leave of us so to do ! 
 
 About eleven English miles further we turned out of 
 the high road of Valenciennes^ to enter the little 
 wretched town of Bouchain* seated on the marshy banks 
 of the Scheldt, (or as the French call it LSEscaut) a 
 
254 
 
 fortress — a strong fortress —and nothing but a fortress* 
 The extent of ground occupied by the works of these 
 links to the iron barrier chain of French Flanders is 
 very considerable. Whatever might have been the 
 state of this place forte, during its siege by the Duke of 
 Marlborough, its ramparts and ditches exhibit a wilder- 
 ness overgrown with reeds, and " where the long grass 
 o'ertops the mouldering wall." Bouchain is garrisoned 
 by the Danish contingent, and the business which led 
 us through its gates was to deliver 100,000 francs de 
 solde (about 4168 pounds sterling) for the payment of 
 that division of the troops of occupation, who had so 
 prodigiously contributed to the second expulsion of 
 Buonaparte. From Bouchain to Valenciennes we pass 
 through a vast level of country, the corn-covered sur- 
 face of which is broken only by the tapering church 
 spires of the numerous villages with which it is popu* 
 lated. W e reached Valenciennes at half-past nine in 
 the evening ; and just light enough remained to enable 
 lis to notice the immense strength of this important 
 place, which, divided by the river Scheldt in two parts, 
 displays in a striking manner the genius of the great 
 Vauban, by w hom both the citadel and the surrounding 
 fortifications were constructed. The present state of 
 its fortifications did not exactly meet the ideas which 
 its protracted siege by the Duke of York, in 1793, had 
 led me to form of them. Neither Valenciennes nor 
 Cambray is garni^ that is to say, there are no cannon 
 on the ramparts. It seems, indeed, that Napoleon, in 
 an over-confident reliance on his own invincibility, neg- 
 lected the frontier fortresses, and they certainly wear 
 an appearance forlorn and dilapidated, particularly in 
 their outworks. The houses are on a large scale, and 
 
255 
 
 the Grande Place has an air of consequence : there are 
 some good streets, but the far greater portion of them 
 are narrow and ill-built. The fortress is garrisoned by 
 the 57lh, 88th, and another English regiment; they 
 have military possession, but the civil administration 
 rests entirely in the hands of the French authorities. 
 
 At the supper H set-out'* of La Cowonne Imperiale, 
 where we alighted, we were diverted with listening 
 from time to time to the conversation of our Conductor 
 and three of his brethren, jovial talkative fellows, who 
 were (as usual at these Diligence meals ) regaling them- 
 selves in a pariie quarree, at the lower end of the table* 
 Our attention was particularly drawn to their discourse, 
 in consequence of its falling on the subject of certain 
 highway robberies, and other depredations which had 
 recently been committed in the neighbourhood of Valen- 
 ciennes : and we learnt, with feelings of no little morti- 
 fication, that ten men of the English Waggon Train 
 were in limbo, on the point of being tried by a Council 
 of War for theft. It was some consolation, however, 
 under this stain upon the discipline of our troops, to 
 find the Frenchmen rendering justice to the honourable 
 severity with which such offences, whenever proved, were 
 promptly visited by British Courts Martial. We rose 
 from our meal, the Diligence was ready to proceed 
 again, and muffling ourselves up in our caps and great 
 coats, we prepared to sleep out the first few hours of 
 our departure from Valenciennes, thinking no more of 
 what the conducteurs had been telling us. But, by an 
 unlooked-for coincidence, about a mile from the Gates, 
 an attempt was made by robbers on our baggage* 
 AVe were roused from our dozing tranquillity with the 
 shrill voice of our supercargo, who^ perched on the top 
 
256 
 
 of the imperials, vociferated voleitrs, volef/rs> with all 
 his might and main. M. instantly putting down the 
 glass, thrust himself half out of the window, and de- 
 manded what was the matter ; the answer was given, in 
 the mdst incoherent Jlustration of manner and phraseo- 
 logy, but the amount was, that three or four soldiers, 
 in the English uniform, had rushed from a house on 
 tM road side, as the carriage was passing it, and leap- 
 ing on the hinder boot, were already within reach of 
 the trunks on the top, when he snapped his pistols at 
 the " rascals," and (though unluckily it missed fire) 
 the good countenance with which he received them had 
 the desired effect of inducing them to jump down, and 
 make a precipitate retreat. On examining the state of 
 his armory, we found it consisted of only one rusty 
 pistol, which certainly would have discharged its 
 contents on the trigger being pulled, had the flint 
 been fit for service ! Well, we escaped this tremendous 
 danger, without being exposed even to the repetition of 
 another alarm : and it served uncommonly a propos 
 for our valiant conducteur, (a second Sir John Falstaff) 
 to boast about ; every time we changed horses after- 
 wards " he fought his battle o'er again, and thrice he 
 slew the slain — there was no annoyance in this eternal 
 story of " the five men in buckram,'' except that my 
 friend and myself were each in our turn, ever and anon 5 
 hauled up as evidences to corroborate the testimony 
 which he trumpeted forth of his own valour and 
 vigilance ! 
 
 From Bossu to Mons, a succession of grazing lands 
 intervenes, and the country is open but undulating 
 In passing the village of Jemappes, we cast a transitory 
 glance over the ground of Dumourier's famous victory 
 
257 
 
 «ver the Austrians, in 1793, which decided the fate of 
 the Netherlands, and enabled the Republican General 
 to enter Brussels a month before his gasconade promise 
 (as it was at the time esteemed) of dining there on 
 Christmas-day. Buonaparte proclaimed his intended 
 occupation of that city on die 19th June last year, with 
 similar confidence, and . (as our " prognosticators of 
 prophecies" in England foresaw) with still greater 
 certainty of success. Unluckily, the " Emperor," in- 
 stead of Austrians, found Britons to deal with-— men of 
 " sterner stuff" than to yield up the woody pass of 
 Waterloo, as the Imperialists did the entrenched heights 
 Of Jemappes ! From this celebrated spot, a ride of 
 little more than two miles brought us to the very an- 
 cient and handsome city of Mons. The fortifications 
 by wliich it w as formerly so strongly defended, are now 
 in a very dilapidated state, merely patched up for its 
 security against the coup de main of a marauding in- 
 cursion, since Joseph the Second, of innovating and 
 arbitrary memory, dismantled the Flemish fortresses 
 whilst he dragooned their inhabitants ; for both wliich 
 acts of execrable policy his successors had afterwards 
 to bless his name and roisdom, as being the main causes 
 which enabled the French to over-run and subdue the 
 Low Countries. 
 
 Here, as we tread for the first time on the Dutch 
 Stadtholder's new and good " kingdom of the Nether- 
 lands," our baggage, which had been plombe (as the 
 French call putting the lading of the Diligence under 
 the protection of a leaden seal) was now to undergo the 
 search of the Flemish Douaniers. These redoubtable 
 geatry treated Capt. M. and myself civilly enough: 
 our trunks and valisscs were made the subject of a very 
 slight search ; and indeed as their contents (notwith- 
 
 Ll 
 
258 
 
 standing we came from Paris ) were not such as mate- 
 rially to commit us, our consequent boldness in ex- 
 posing a part gained us the desired credit for the re- 
 mainder. On the other hand, our irritable companion, 
 the old Frencli lady, who, to speak plainly, had been 
 smuggling, began to shew such fidgety symptoms as 
 would have inevitably betrayed the whole contraband 
 mysteries of the band-boxes, but for the kind and 
 timely interference of my friend, who, by dint of good 
 Words with these custom-house Argusses, succeeded In 
 persuading them to pass over, not only some positively 
 prohibited merchandise, but also a most virulent ebulli- 
 tion of rage, which she vented against them in a hun- 
 dred coquins and voleurs, on their proceeding to the pro- 
 fanation of applying a knife to the cords of a particular 
 box. The officer behaved with great forbearance. Coolly 
 taking otf the lid, which discovered half-a-dozen Pa- 
 risian bonnets de paille (straw hats) he observed, that 
 what he was doing was in strict conformity with his 
 duty, and did not deserve her abusive epithets, of which 
 he advised her in future to be sparing, as she might 
 meet with those who would be more ready than he was 
 to take advantage of them : he then calmly put the lid 
 on again, and told Madame that her boxes were passed. 
 So much for the affair of the Douane at Mons, in which 
 the conduct of the little Frenchwoman was the more 
 extraordinary, inasmuch as there is not a country in 
 Europe where the regulations of this sort have ever 
 been enforced with greater severity than her own, 
 especially under the reign of her favourite Emperor! 
 But, indeed, travellers in general are very apt to mis- 
 take the matter, in Custom-house concerns. They 
 either give way to unnecessary apprehensions, or they 
 entertain too sanguine expectations of the success of 
 
259 
 
 their own notable expedients for deceiving the searchers* 
 From my own experience, as well as from the more 
 conclusive testimony of others, in reference to both 
 sides of the water, I believe that the well-practised 
 guardians of Rational revenue, (who seldom fail in an 
 a«cute recognizance and in a just discrimination of things 
 appertaining to their vocation) will mostly look with 
 indulgence on the modest transgressions which the na- 
 tural importunity of " wives, sweethearts, and friends" 
 may have occasioned one to make, from the strictly 
 legal assortment of a gentlemanly portmanteau : it is 
 the paltry attempt to trick and outwit, and the whole- 
 sale dealing in fiscal fraud for which the rigid ordeal 
 is usually reserved ; and offenders in these respects may 
 certainly look to be handled very roughly. The Prus- 
 sians who are at Mons, carry on smuggling transactions 
 zi et armis : the amount of prohibited merchandise, and 
 goods subject to heavy duty, which they cause to cross 
 the lines without paying any thing, except now and 
 then a hearty threshing to the Douaniers^ we were in- 
 formed, has of late been enormous : the Duke of Wel- 
 lington lias been obliged to interfere. 
 
 After breakfast, at Le Grand Cerfc and during the 
 transfer of our baggage from the French to a Flemish 
 Diligence, we took the opportunity of looking at the 
 town, of which, while one part stands on a command- 
 ing eminence, the other descends into a swampy soil, 
 subject to the inundations of the rivers Haine and 
 Trouilli, the latter stream running through the lower 
 town. The Cathedral, situated on the hill, presents in 
 its interior a remarkably elegant specimen of the later 
 Gothic : the outside appears to have been left in an un- 
 finished state. It contains a finely-carved pulpit, and 
 a superb organ \ the grand altar is imposingly embel- 
 
 LI 2 
 
260 
 
 lished : the Lady Chapel has two or three monuments 
 of great sculptural magnificence, and as well as the side 
 chap Ls, is rich in marble decorations. Priests officiat- 
 ing at almost all the various altars, the tinkling of the 
 mass bells, and (though not a Sunday or Saint's day) 
 the attendance of both sexes at the matin service, were 
 circumstances that served to remind me of our entry 
 into a territory of verilables Catholiques : — the women, 
 with their heads enshrouded in black silk or stuff 
 cloaks, presented to my eyes a novel feature of costume, 
 and indicated opinions and manners different from 
 those of the great State we had just quitted. Returning 
 to the inn, we passed through a good market-place, 
 apparently well supplied with vegetables. The Hotel 
 de Ville occupies nearly one side of this spacious, 
 square, and is a handsome old building, surmounted by 
 a lofty pinnacle, not of the lightest architecture in the 
 world. And, " by the same rule," as Oliver Goldsmith 
 would say, was our new Diligence for Brussels appa- 
 rently built — it was indeed a marvellously heavy ma- 
 chine, and made exceeding slow haste. I must here, 
 indeed, take occasion to remark, that whether attri- 
 butable to permanent or temporary causes, the accom- 
 modation we met with on our journey from Paris as far 
 as Mons was very indifferent : a great deal of poverty 
 and misery appeared among the people — the roads, 
 with few exceptions, were bad, and travelling conse- 
 quently slow and fatiguing. The same grievanpes ac- 
 companied us to SoignieS) about four miles from 3fons 9 
 and which like the villages previously traversed, had 
 nothing either neat or curious to recommend it, but was 
 filled with wretched mendicants. 
 
 From Braine le Comte, leaving at a distance behind 
 tfs the marshy neighbourhood of Mons, the road pro- 
 
261 
 
 ceeds through a fertile, well-cultivated, and agreeable 
 country, giving an acceptable foretaste of that interest- 
 ing scenery, which improves at every post in the 
 approach to Bruxelles* At Halle, the last stage, we 
 entered the inn, (which, it being market-day, was 
 crowded) and enjoyed the first comfortable meal of 
 which we had partaken since our departure from Paris. 
 It was simply a luncheon ; but the bread was so good, 
 the butter so sweet, the eggs so fresh — and then the 
 whole apparatus of the table was so cleanly, that even 
 our French friend, Madame B. mustered an excellent 
 appetite on the occasion, and, palriote as she was, ac- 
 knowledged the practicability of living in the Nether- 
 lands. But where is the language gone, to which our 
 ears have been accustomed for the last month ? < ur 
 French, indeed, still answers the purpose of expressing 
 our wants and wishes ; but it no longer serves us to in- 
 terpret the conversation of the good folks into whose 
 company we are thus temporarily thrown. We are 
 among Les Flamands, as they were formerly well 
 pleased to call themselves — Les Beiges, as they have 
 since called themselves to please the revolutionary 
 French. We have entered the country formerly so pre- 
 eminent in arts and arms, to whose industry directed 
 with skill, and to whose energy excited by scientific 
 genius, nations now superior to it in power and political 
 independence, are indebted for their most valuable 
 sources of prosperity. We are in one of the " well- 
 beloved" and valuable Provinces once swayed by the 
 mild sceptre of the " good Duke of Burgundy the 
 inheritance which Charles the Fifth was proud to 
 cherish and protect, to increase in strength and exalt in 
 glory ; the country of Van Eye, of Teniers, of Rubens, 
 of Vandyck — In fine, we are at Bruxelles. 
 
262 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 Brussels. — Churches of St. Gudule — Condenburg and the 
 Sahlon—The Place Royale — Park — Palace — Allee Verte 
 — The Great Market-place— Hotel de Ville — The Mu- 
 seum — Restored Pictures — Visit to Lack en — The Opera- 
 house. 
 
 June 9th and 10th. 
 
 Had we formed our judgment of " Gay Brussels'* 
 from the first impression, it would perhaps have been 
 strongly tinctured by thesowfere cast of thought, which so 
 involuntarily sy mpath ises with the gloom o! bad weather, 
 "The sky was overcast, the morning lowcr'd, and heavily 
 in clouds brought on the day," on which we vainly anti- 
 cipated to have witnessed the population of this lively 
 capital in all the varied enjoy merit of their holiday re- 
 creations. It was, in fact, amidst torrents of rain that 
 we sallied forth, like true and undaunted " knights" 
 travellers in quest of adventures; and the commence- 
 ment of them was to obtain a clue to, and by subsequent 
 perseverance, trace to his " whereabouts," at the Hotel 
 (T Angleterre, a British General Officer, allied in close 
 relationship to my worthy compagnon de voyage, and 
 whose ardour on subjects of military research and in- 
 formation had brought him hither, at the age of 70, for 
 the second time in twelve months, on a visit, this last 
 occasion, to the Field of Battle at Waterloo! Having 
 paid our respects, and arranged our time and place of 
 rendezvous for dining with General M. we proceeded 
 to inspect the principal churches, objects not less con- 
 
263 
 
 venient, as affording u from storms a shelter, and from 
 heats a shade," than appropriate to a Sunday peram- 
 bulation. 
 
 Saint Gudula is a magnificent Gothic structure, of 
 the 14th century; it stands on the summit of the highest 
 eminence in Brussels, approached by a flight of stairs, 
 and commands from its two eastern towers, which are 
 very large and lofty, a most extensive and delightful 
 view of the surrounding country. The inside is richly 
 adorned with marble tombs of departed and almost for- 
 gotten greatness, placed in the different chapels, and in 
 the choir, where are the beautiful mausoleums of 
 John II. Duke of Brabant, and Margaret, daughter of 
 our first Edward. The monument of Philip the Second, 
 of Spain, is also shewn near the place of his interment. 
 The pulpit, of oak, is a very extraordinarily designed 
 and ably executed piece of carving, by Henry Ver- 
 b rugger), of Antwerp, in 1699. The architecture of 
 this venerable pile is acutely pointed. The pillars of 
 the nave are circular, thick, and short ; while the arches 
 that spring from them are lofty. There are fourteen 
 statues excellently sculptured, representing Christ, the 
 Holy Virgin, and the twelve Apostles, but being not 
 less than ten feet in height, they produce a heavy effect, 
 placed as they are on pedestals, resting on the capitals 
 of the columns. The windows contain some of the 
 best painted glass I have seen on our journey. The 
 white or rather the pink washer's brush has been used 
 here with enough of zeal, and of knowledge and im- 
 provement little enough. The same may be said of a 
 great deal of gingerbread work and gilding in the altar 
 pieces, in which the images of the Saviour a id his 
 Mother are dressed up like dolls at a fair! In the 
 
264 
 
 interval between the services, we observed a sort of 
 Sunday-school^ held in the nave of this Church. The 
 boys form a circle round the preceptor, who, in ponti- 
 Jicalibus of gown, wig, and cane, catechises these hope- 
 ful sprigs of Catholicism. The questions and responses 
 were made in French, apparently extempore on both 
 sides ; and some of the subjects touched upon by these 
 ecclesiastical pedagogues were sufficiently strange and 
 absurd. We next visited the new Church of Conden* 
 burg} in the Place Roy ale j the portal of which, con- 
 sisting of six Doric columns, supporting an entablature 
 and pediment, constitutes a strikingly superb feature in 
 the architecture of that noble square. Thence we pur- 
 sued our course to the spacious opening called La 
 Place de la Saitoh, in which stands a fountain, which 
 interested us not merely as a monument of the arts, being 
 Ornamented with a fine allegorical group in marble, 
 but as having been erected by a Scotch Nobleman 
 (Lord Bruce) in testimony of gratitude to the city of 
 Brussels, where he had passed forty years of agreeable 
 residence. The church of the Sablon proved well 
 worthy of inspection : it has little to note in the exterior 
 building, but the inside is rich in sculptural works and 
 other curiosities. The nave, like that of St Gudule, 
 is decorated with very fine statues, placed on the 
 capitals of the columns, between the springing of the 
 arches ; they are, however, of smaller proportions, and 
 consequently look lighter and better in the perspective. 
 But the most sumptuous object in this Church is the 
 monument of the Prince du Tour et Taxis, on which 
 rich materials and admirable workmanship have been 
 bestowed with equal munificence and good effect ; the 
 sculpture of it is said to be executed by the masterly 
 
265 
 
 hand of Du Q u emoy ; but in this and other instances 
 the destroying mania of Revolufion displays its brutal 
 freaks in lamentable mutilations and irreparable losses. 
 
 We dined with Gen. M. and his friend Gen. F. at 
 the Hotel de Bdh Vue, which ranks as the first Inn ; 
 indeed, it occupies one of (he fine buildings composing 
 the grand and regular square of the Place Roy ale : 
 every thing was, as might be expected, on a scale of 
 great respectability. Our company at the table d'hote 
 consisted chiefly of English ladies and gentlemen ; some 
 of them birds qf passage, like ourselves, and others be- 
 longing to that class of whom Sterne speaks, as being 
 a such as cross the seas, and sojourn in a land of stran- 
 €C gers, with a view of saving money for various reasons 
 " and on various pretences, but who might also save 
 " themselves and others a great deal of unnecessary 
 " trouble by saving their money at home." In the af- 
 ternoon, we took advantage of the intervals between 
 shower and shower, to walk about the truly elegant 
 quarter of the town in which we then were. A prome- 
 nade through the Park, the Place Louxain, and the 
 Place Roy ale ) was among the number of those incidents 
 that served to remind us of a mistake which we did not 
 discover ourselves to have made, till it was much too 
 late to correct it : I mean the mistake of beginning our 
 journey at the wrong end. The Palace arid Park, with 
 the magnificent lines of building^ that form an united 
 and well-arranged assemblage with the one, and com- 
 pletely surround the extensive and beautiful enclosure 
 of the other, certainly deserve the praises which have 
 been bestowed on them ; and, maiigre the drawback of 
 inauspicious skies, we recognized many of (hose attrac- 
 tive characteristics which render the whole a most de- 
 
 Mm 
 
266 
 
 liglitful spot : but to give Brussels and its public 
 walks and edifices fair play, they should be enjoyed 
 before, not etfter seeing those of Paris! The Allec 
 Verte (or Green Alley), a broad and immensely long 
 avenue of fine trees, situated on the road to Antwerp, is 
 the fashionable Sunday evening ride : the display of 
 brilliant equipages, both of carriages and horsemen, 
 mingled with the crowd of pedestrian pleasure parties, 
 was promised to furnish forth to us an uncommonly 
 pleasant sight — " these are its charms ; but all those 
 charms had fled" before the pelting attacks of another 
 rain storm, which encountered the motley throng as we 
 reached the ground, put an end to all further proceed- 
 ings for the day. 
 
 June 10. — This morning proving more propitious to 
 the traveller's vocation of looking about him, we re- 
 newed our perambulation betimes ; and began with the 
 Grande Place, or great Market-place, in which stands 
 the remarkably fine edifice of the Hotel de Ville, which, 
 though called Gothic, is in facta very singular adapta- 
 tion of the minarets and other architectural peculiarities 
 of the Saracenic stile, and unlike any building of similar 
 appropriation which has met my notice. The heights 
 of the tower, surmounted by a gilt colossal figure of St. 
 Michael, is, I should think, exaggerated, by rating it 
 at 364 feet ; but its elevation, (whatever it may be) and 
 the lightness of its construction, are equally surprising 
 and admirable. The ensemble of this great square con- 
 stitutes one of the most interesting objects in Brussels : 
 for there is every reason to believe, that in the several 
 buildings that compose its four sides, a choice specimen 
 is, with the least possible alteration, preserved to us, 
 Qi the form and plan both of public and private houses 
 
267 
 
 in the days of its Spanish Government : the utmost sin- 
 gularity and diversity of taste is displayed in the indi- 
 vidual parts of this spacious parrallelogram, which has 
 nothing uniform except the regularity of its alignement ; 
 each house has been apparently made to conform to a 
 shape as dissimilar as possible from its neighbour's, 
 and the choice of ornament is not less different : of some 
 the elaborate workmanship and complex designs indi- 
 cate their co-existence with the age when it began to 
 be the fashion to imitate the decorations, without under- 
 standing the principles, of the Grecian school of archi- 
 tecture. The front of one of the largest of these houses 
 (opposite to the Town-house) bears the following in- 
 scription, of which I have exactly copied the character 
 and punctuation : 
 
 A. PES. TE. FA. ME. ET. BEL. LO. LI.BE.R A« NOS. 
 11 A. IMA. PA. CIS. HIC. VO. TUM. PA. CIS. PU*BLI.Cj£* 
 £• LI. SA. BETH. CON. SE. CRA. VIT. 
 
 As the Museum at Brussels (being the assigned re* 
 pository) had received back from Paris the precious 
 works of the pencil, which the French since the Revo- 
 lution had stripped from the churches, convents, and 
 palaces of this once most populous and opulent city, 
 that establishment became a point of considerable at- 
 traction to us. and we dedicated chief part of the morn- 
 ing to an inspection of the extensive suite of rooms 
 appropriated to the pictures. Our expectations, how- 
 ever, with respect to those just arrived from the French 
 capital, were sadly disappointed. Very few of them 
 had yet been put up, and even of these two or three 
 were in a damaged state. It was with feelings border- 
 ing on a sorrowful irritability that we beheld some of 
 the finest pieces of Rubens stretched out on the floor> 
 
 Mm 2 
 
268 
 
 and exposing thp marks of injury which they had sus- 
 tained on the journey hither. To the disgrace of the 
 Commissioners, and to the regret of every amateur of 
 exquisite painting, they had been so miserably ill 
 packed, that the rain had penetrated between the fold- 
 ings of the rollers, in some cases decomposing the var- 
 nish, in others materially affecting the colours, and in 
 almost all impairing the beauty ot these grand produc- 
 tions to a degree that will require some thousands to be 
 expended on this part of the collection, before it can be 
 restored to a proper state of reparation. But, inde- 
 pendent of the new arrivals, the rooms contain several 
 magnificent pieces : of these I cannot refrain from 
 noticing, as having arrested our particular attention, 
 66 The Elevation of the Cross," one of Vandyek's best 
 performances. " A Sybil," by Guido Reni. " Adam 
 and Eve," by Albano. " The Martyrdom of St. 
 Livin," by Rubens. u The Crowning of the Virgin," 
 by ditto. " The Assumption of the Virgin," by J. B. 
 De Champaigne* — A legendary subject, in which Jesus 
 Christ is represented descending from Heaven to Earth, 
 which in his wrath he is about to destroy, evinces the 
 terrible sublimity to which the Genius of Rubens could 
 soar, in spite of the superstitious restrictions with which 
 it was sometimes enfettered* This extraordinary piece, 
 which goes under the name of H Le Seigneur voulant 
 foudroj/er le Monde" is founded on some pretended 
 instance of the interposition of St. Dominic; the figure 
 of the supplicating Saint, and the dreadful majesty of 
 the offended Saviour, armed with the thunder, and 
 ready to hiirl its consuming fulminations on the de- 
 voted globe, present the most striking and impressive 
 contrasts which it is possible to conceive. And such 
 
269 
 
 have been the skill and talent exercised by this great 
 master, that, even through the dark clouds of legend 
 and allegory blended together, the heart is deeply 
 smitten with a sentiment of religious awe ! In another 
 part of the gallery are the " St, Genevieve, or the pre- 
 sentation at the Temple," by Philip de Champagne. 
 A " View of Tournay," by Vandermeuler. A " votive 
 picture," by Guercino, very fine. ¥t St. Hubert," a 
 joint production of Snyders, Crayer, and Artois. u The 
 Adoration of the Magi," by Rubens. "Game and 
 Fruit," by F. Snyders. " The Martyrdom of St, 
 Mark," by Tintoret. A very fine Landscape, by 
 James d'Artois, the figures by Teniers And though 
 last not least in this selected list, u The Bearing of the 
 Cross," by Leonardo de Vinci. — Among the modern 
 productions are a portrait of the present King of the 
 Netherlands ; and the Prize Pictures of the Society at 
 Brussels for the encouragement of the Fine Arts, some 
 of which appear to possess very great merit. On the 
 whole, we enjoyed an extremely delicious treat, in the 
 leisurely range which we were permitted to take 
 through this valuable collection, where, strange to say, 
 not a single person, except ourselves, was to be seen 
 taking advantage of an institution so easy of access and 
 &o well calculated to reward the pains of enquiry. Con- 
 sidering, indeed, the peculiar circumstances under 
 which it has recently been enlarged, it was with some 
 degree of indignation mixed with our astonishment, 
 that we observed this indication of indifference or igno- 
 norance, both of the people of Brussels and the nume- 
 rous foreign residents, English in particular, in regard 
 to this museum. 
 
 Next, taking coach, we proceeded to visit the Palace, 
 
270 
 
 at Lacken, called for its noble situation Schdnenburg, or 
 Beaumont, standing on a commanding eminence, which 
 we approached by a steep ascent, after a short two miles 
 ride, through a succession of the richest pastures, inter- 
 sected by rivulets and canals, the road all the way 
 pleasantly lined with trees, and rendered more delight- 
 ful by the country boxes and gardens that skirt the 
 banks of the Sonne. The interior of the palace, in the 
 court front, is not particularly striking — the garden 
 front is handsome, and consists of a pavillion (sur- 
 mounted by a dome) and two wings, consisting only of 
 the State apartments on the ground floor, and another 
 story principally appropriated to the use of the domes* 
 tics. It is built of a fine white stone, on a convenient 
 scale, and would pass as an elegant mansion among the 
 minor seats of our Nobility in England. The rooms 
 were furnished, in their present stile, under the direc* 
 tion and for the reception of Buonaparte and Josephine. 
 The initial J. still remains on the embroidered coverlid 
 on the bed of the " chambre a coucher de la Heine."— 
 Napoleon, we were informed, came to Lackcn on three 
 separate occasions, but remained each time only a few 
 days. And it will be recollected, that from a our Jm* 
 ferial Palace at Lacken" it was his intention and ex- 
 pectation to issue the Bulletin and Decrees announcing 
 the Victor?/ of Mont St. Jean, and proclaiming a Levj/ 
 en Masse for the extermination of the Allies! There 
 are no pictures, nor any thing particularly remarkable 
 in the inside, except the Rotunda, or Concert Room : 
 the marble peristile of Corinthian columns, supporting 
 an entablature and dome, rich in sculptural ornaments, 
 forms a noble apartment. The gardens and grounds are 
 extensive and beautiful; every where they offer the most 
 
271 
 
 delightful views of Brussels and the surrounding coun- 
 try. Looking from thence over the road to Antwerp, 
 we see, on the summit of a corresponding eminence, a 
 small chateau occupied by the Duke of Richmond ; who, 
 with his family, frequently resort to the captivating re- 
 tirement of this place. Almost every step we took 
 through the gardens and shubberies, reminded us of 
 Malmaison j Lackeri, indeed, having been the tempo- 
 rary residence of Josephine, appears, from many cor- 
 responding features of its locality, to have furnished 
 those hints of which she so happily availed herself in 
 the arrangement of her own charming retreat, in the vi- 
 cinity of Paris. Here, as there, her name is pronounced 
 with an accompanying eulogium on that goodness and 
 affability which were shewn alike to all. After wan- 
 dering through the interesting labyrinths of the subter- 
 ranean grotto^ and paying our devotions at the little 
 temples of Amity and the Sun, we returned to the car- 
 riage, and retraced our course back to Brussels. 
 
 We finished the evening with a visit to the Theatre. 
 Neither the house nor the performances were such as 
 to afford us much satisfaction, nor inspire us with any- 
 other than a very indifferent opinion of the taste and 
 spirit with which Dramatic amusements are cultivated 
 and patronised in the capital of the Low Countries : the 
 former is ill built, dirty, and bad lighted ; the latter, 
 with the exception of two Parisian actors, are the 
 poorest of poor things. The orchestra was the only 
 department that was well filled. Though a French 
 Theatre in language on the stage, it bore no resemblance 
 in the deportment of the audience, which was noisy 
 and inattentive. 
 
272 
 
 CHAP. xxr. 
 
 Excursion to Waterloo — Ride through the Forest of 
 Soi^nies — Villages of Waterloo and Mont St Jean — Walk 
 over the Field of Battle — Refections at the first glance 
 of the scene — The British and French positions — La Haye 
 Sainte — Buonaparte and the Duke of Wellington, their 
 respective conduct at and after the battle compared — La 
 Belle Alliance — Chateau of Hogoumont — Sentiments of 
 the Peasantry respecting the English, French, and Prus- 
 sian troops — Local accuracy of Mr Henry Barker 1 s Pano- 
 rama — Waterloo Church and Cemetery; 
 
 June llth. 
 
 This morning our eyes were cheered by the welcome 
 sight of the sun's rays in a cloudless sky 5 and we in- 
 stantly resolved to take advantage of this favourable 
 change in the weather, to visit the scene of the great 
 and decisive battle, of which we were then witMn 
 six days of the First Anniversary. Accordingly, by 
 seven o'clock, our cabriolet was rattling through the 
 streets of Brussels, from the gates of which we proceed 
 little more than the distance of a mile and a half when 
 we find ourselves at the entrance of the extensive Forest 
 of Soignies. The road thence continues with few r devia- 
 tions from the straight line, through a broad avenue of 
 beach trees, scarcely ever broken by intersecting routes. 
 On each side, the thick and deep wood closely hems in 
 our prospect—now and then openings made by the fel- 
 lings of timber, give a freer admission to the light of 
 day, and partially enliven the otherwise sombre cha- 
 
273 
 
 rscter of the scenery. The soil, which is in many 
 places marshy, offers but few convenient spots for habi* 
 tations : houses are thinly scattered along the way side, 
 and are of mean appearance. In consequence of the 
 heavy rains which had fallen during the preceding 
 week, there was no tolerable travelling but on the pave; 
 the sides of the road lying below the level of the forest 
 were covered with a clayey deposit of black mould, 
 into which our vehicle occasionally sank as into a quag- 
 mire. We could conceive some faint idea of the diffi- 
 culties which attended the march of our brave troops, 
 and of the artillery and waggon train in particular, 
 last year. 
 
 About half way through the forest, we observed the 
 skeletons of horses, half concealed by incrustations of 
 muddy earth, which, on communicating with our 
 driver, he informed us was the spot where the horrible 
 confusion took place in the baggage of the British army. 
 He did not tell us, however, that this shocking loss of 
 lives and property was the result of a panic-struck troop 
 of his compatriotes, " les brazes Beiges" spreading 
 alarm and terror among the persons in charge of the 
 field equipage : but the same was assured to us as a fact 
 by a gentleman in the Commissariat, who was in the 
 action of the 18lh ! After a gloomy, and in itself an 
 uninteresting ride of about seven miles, the road sud- 
 denly takes a turn, and presents, in a picturesque visio, 
 the little church of Waterloo. Here the ground to the 
 right begins to clear from woody incumbrances, and we 
 pass through a long straggling village of mostly very 
 indifferent houses, continuing our course straight on- 
 ward for another mile further before we reach the ex- 
 tremity of the next village of Mont St. Jea?i, by which 
 
 Nn 
 
274 
 
 name the French designate the action of the 18lh Jumv 
 it should seem with more propriety, inasmuch as it is 
 nearer to the ground where it was fought. We alighted 
 at a small public-house, situated just on the point of the 
 forked roads of Nivelles and Charleroi. Our host was 
 a civil Flamandy and his wife, who was equally so, had 
 the additional recommendation of being rather hand- 
 some. Whilst at breakfast, we entered into chat with 
 them. 66 It is an ill wind that blows nobody good." 
 And these people acknowledged the Battle of Waterloo 
 had been of " some service" to them. Their present 
 dwelling was but a farming cottage before that event ; 
 yet, such had been the vast influx of visitors consequent 
 upon the victory of the Allied Armies, that they soon 
 adopted the promising and successful speculation of 
 converting it into an Inn — which bears the name of "La 
 Cour Roy ate ;" and we needed no Ghost to rise to in- 
 form us that they were doing very well — for not less than 
 half a dozen carriages were at the door, and parties con- 
 tinually arriving, who took refreshment and proceeded 
 on. Observing that our landlady was in more respects 
 than one in a thriving way, we asked what they expected 
 would have been their fate had the French been victo- 
 rious. u D'etre tons pilles r bruUs i et e gorges " was 
 the answer. They seemed to consider it certain, that in 
 the infuriated temper of the enemy's soldiery, nothing 
 short of the plunder of Brussels would have contented 
 them. 
 
 " La Cour Roy ale" though removed from the sight 
 of the actual fighting ground, was not out of reach of 
 cannon shot : its gable end in that direction had been 
 struck by stray balls, one of which went through the 
 door of a stable near, and killed a horse inside. The 
 
275 
 
 folks at the Inn spoke of the scene exhibited in the open 
 space before their door, during the engagement, as 
 dreadful and agonizing beyond description. Every 
 place that had a roof to it was filled with wounded, in 
 all the various stages of mutilation and suffering In a 
 large cow-house or barn, on the opposite side, the work 
 ©f amputation and dressing went on incessantly : and all 
 this amidst the hideous confusion and alarm that neces- 
 sarily attend on movements in the rear of an army en- 
 gaged in the most arduous and critical operations.— 
 A peculiar and forcible impression took place in our 
 Riinds, excited by the mere reflection which occurred 
 at the relation of facts connected with that awful mo- 
 ment, when the habitation in which we were, stood 
 within the region of death and on the verge of destruc- 
 tion, as contrasted with the tranquil security in which 
 we now put our interrogatories, eating the while our 
 rasher of broiled ham, and washing it down with the 
 wholesome and pleasant bierre brune de Louvain, in the 
 clean little parlour, with 66 nicely sanded floor," and 
 its walls hung with English prints, some of them sub* 
 jects of our own Bunbury's cheerful pencil 1 
 
 With a very youthful, but (for our purpose) a suffix 
 eiently intelligent guide in our company, and an excel- 
 lent map in our hand, we set out on our expedition over 
 the field of battle, trudging along the broad paved road 
 that leads to Genappe and Namur. We passed on our 
 left the large farm-house and barn of Mont St. Jean, 
 and a little further on, a diminutive cottage, pointed out 
 as the asylum of some of our dangerously- wounded 
 officers. These, with a single other small building, 
 are the only objects, save the succession of lands in 
 tillage and pasture, that intervene between the village 
 
 N n 9 
 
276 
 
 we had just quitted and ihe plateau on which the Duke 
 of Wellington ranged his army in order of battle. Ar- 
 rived near that part of the level ridge where the 
 left of the British centre stood, our guide, pointing 
 to a tree on the top of the road bank, said to us, " Voila y 
 Messieurs, VJrbre de Wellington" by this name, in- 
 deed, it is, and as long as it remains will perhaps be 
 always distinguished ; although for no other reason, that 
 we could learn, than that the Duke, who was ever?/ 
 where, happened to be there also : and it is highly pro- 
 bable that he was often near it, Cor it stands almost on 
 the crown of the hill, and Commands an advantageous 
 coup (Tceil of the positions of both armies. 
 
 Before us then lay the field of Mont St. Jean's 
 immortal battle — the scene of the victory of the 
 Eighteenth of June ! A day of imperishable glory 
 for England; a memorable and avenging day for 
 Prussia; a day of peaceful promise for war-worn Eu- 
 rope — a day of retributive humiliation for the tyrant- 
 ridden people of vain and restless France. It was then, 
 and on this identical spot of earth, that Wellington 
 •was pitted against Buonaparte; the British soldier 
 against the French soldier, to decide the long disputed 
 question of superior military character — it was then, on 
 this very ground, that the physical powers, the firmness 
 of mind, the ardent valour, and unabated perseverance 
 of exertion, displayed by our countrymen, and directed 
 and animated by the genius and example of their great 
 Commander, were crowned with a complete ascendancy 
 over the skill, discipline, intrepidity, and numbers of 
 their far-famed veteran opponents. The conquerors of 
 Marengo, of A usterlitz, of Jena, of Friedland, making 
 shipwreck of their vaunted laurels against the unshaken 
 
277 
 
 rock of an English line of Infantry, could no longer be 
 identified as an army, but fled before their keen and 
 vigorous pursuers, in all the self-destroying confusion 
 of a routed mob ! Yes, the scene of that tremendous 
 struggle lay before us ! And, O, if in the breast of the 
 Classic Traveller, a visit to Marathon's or Plataeas plain, 
 or to the pass of Thermopylae, is still capable of ex- 
 citing (as it well deserves) an enthusiastic reverence for 
 ancient valour and ancient patriotism, what terms are 
 adequate to express the .emotions that arise in a true 
 Englishman's heart as his eye takes its first glance over 
 the Field of Waterloo ? A field more glorious 
 than those of Cressy and Agincourt, for it was won 
 in a cause unsullied by cruelty and injustice, unaided 
 by factious intrigue., and free from the taint of a profli- 
 gately ambitious principle. A victory more consola- 
 tory, in the great and lamented sacrifices with which it 
 was purchased, than th&i of Blenheim, for it led to the 
 immediate consummation of Peace, by overthrowing at 
 once the author and main supports of the most intolera- 
 ble system of tyranny and bloodshed that ever afflicted 
 and exhausted a civilized world ! 
 
 On the opposite side of the road to the Wellington 
 Tree, is the hedge called La Haj/e Sainte y behind 
 which a cross road winds along the ridge on which the 
 British left was formed. We passed over to this strong 
 part of our position, and from the sand bank below it 
 surveyed more leisurely the extent of the French lines 
 which covered an elevated platform equally favourable 
 both for attack and defence. A easy declivity on each 
 side forms a valley, in the middle of which runs a ridge 
 of secondary altitude. From the point where we now 
 stood (distinguished as the spot on which the gallant 
 
278 
 
 Picton fell) our view was extensive over an unenclosed 
 country, possessing some agreeable though not striking 
 features. Its open fields were covered, as tbey are de- 
 cribed to have been on the morning of the battle, with 
 fine crops of clover and corn. To the eastward, in 
 distant prospect, rose the spire of the abbey church of 
 Fristhermont, whence Bulow's corps debouched on the 
 right wing of the French. In our immediate front, 
 and not more than three quarters of a mile distant, ap- 
 peared the house of La Belle Alliance, in the centre of 
 the enemy's position Below us to the right was the 
 town of La Haye Sainte, over which the eye embraced 
 the wood of Hogoumont. We bent our steps some 
 little distance, in the direction of the hamlet of Papelot y 
 on which the left wing of our army rested, having above 
 us " the Sacred Hedge" that reminded us of those 
 u stout hearts'' of Caledonia, " who fought and died 
 where duty placed them," on that leafy-crested hill. 
 Then descending to the bottom of the valley, our at- 
 tention was attracted by numerous mounds of earth, on 
 which the vegetable produce appeared with uncom- 
 mon luxuriance. They were the graves of horses and 
 men; and one of them, from which the rains had 
 washed the loosely-covering soil away, exposed the 
 lower extremity of a human body : one leg, cloathed 
 with the jack boot of a heavy cavalry soldier, had pro- 
 truded itself out of its place of sepulture ; and our guide 
 invited us to approach and see what he termed ^ La 
 bottedu Cuirassier " It was certainly in the immediate 
 vicinity of that part of the British position where those 
 sleelclad cavaliers exposed themselves to annihilation, 
 in the brave but vain attempt to break the squares of 
 our Highlanders, and> possessing themselves of the 
 
27.9 
 
 English batteries, to force the plateau of Mont Saint 
 Jean. The farm-house of La Ilaye Sainle, although 
 open to the cannonade of the whole French Hire, and 
 the focus of obstinate and sanguinary contest, exhibits 
 but inconsiderable marks of injury : the shot holes have 
 been mostly stopped up, and the whole premises, con- 
 sisting of an orchard and garden, are in occupation as 
 before. Indeed, for any peculiarity of appearance 
 Which it now retains, one might easily pass by the place 
 w ithout suspecting its great claim to attention, were it 
 not that on the gable towards the road an inscriptive 
 tablet of white stone has been affixed.* 
 
 In regarding the locality of La Ilaye Sainte farm, 
 two circumstances recur to one's recollection which 
 equally excite astonishment, and at the same time prove 
 how liable the theory of military art is to be deviated 
 from, and even falsified by the actual practice of it, on 
 a grand scale, and amidst simultaneous operations that 
 engross and distract the attention of a Commander, 
 though he be possessed of the utmost composure and 
 presence of mind. Situated, by the side of the main 
 road, close under the brow of Mont St. Jean, and its 
 communication with the British lines interrupted only 
 by its garden wall and hedge, its little garrison thus in- 
 sulated, receiving no reinforcements, was, after per- 
 
 # The following simple terms of memorial are engraven en it : — 
 The Officers 
 Of the 2d LUhr Dragoon*, 
 King's German Legion, 
 In memory of their Brother Officers, and Friends of their Regiment, who 
 fell in defending this Farm, 0:0 the 18 h June, 1815. 
 
 Captain and Brevet Major Adoiphus Bosewej], 
 Captains William Wiegman and W. Schawmann, 
 Ensign Ernest us Robertson. 
 
280 
 
 forming prodigies of valour, overwhelmed by superior 
 numbers, and massacred to a man, by the enraged as- 
 sailants. Yet, notwithstanding the French had, with 
 immense loss on their part, effected by this means a 
 lodgement in the very Centre of Lord Wellington's po- 
 sition, they were unable to turn their dearly-bought 
 success to any material advantage, although they con- 
 tinued in possession of it till within a short time of the 
 general advance of oiir troops from the heights, whici 
 decided the victory. 
 
 In the rear of La Haj/e Sainte we were shewn a hil- 
 lock thrown over a pit, in which it is computed about 
 2000 dead bodies were deposited. Some little way to 
 the westward of this mamelon, the ground is pointed out 
 -where the British Foot and Life Guards charged the 
 Old Imperial Guard and Cuirassiers, who vainly at- 
 tempted to resist the shock, were beaten back, and com- 
 pletely overthrown. Proceeding from this farm, we 
 continued, in our ascent to the French position, along 
 the Brussels road to that point where Buonaparte is said 
 to have led his Guard for the last time, and given the 
 word to them en avant. The road on this side, as at 
 La II aye Saittle, is cut through the hill, and the bank 
 consequently rising several feet above the level of the 
 pave, it is a situation in which he w ould (as lias been 
 elsewhere remarked) Ci be rendered secure from all 
 such balls as did not come in a straight line." It is, 
 however, within 1000 paces of the plateau of Mount 
 St. John, consequently it must have been completely 
 exposed to the grape shot of the English artillery 
 posted on the road at the point where it passes over the 
 summit of those heights. It was, therefore, a situation 
 of danger to Napoleon's person ; Ami not such a degree 
 
281 
 
 ©f danger as Lord Wellington exposed himself to, 
 whenever he found it expedient to inspirit his soldiers 
 by his cheering presence and encouraging language. 
 ]t is not to be disputed that Buonaparte, in his early 
 career, gave proof of devotedncss and courage ; but on 
 this last hazard of his fortune, as well as on other occa- 
 sions since the tide of success commenced its flow 
 against him, he seems manifestly to have considered the 
 heroism of a warrior as incompatible with the prudent 
 counsels of that u divinity" which " doth hedge round 
 a King," and an Emperor! His professed abhor- 
 rence of suicide, on the grounds alledged, may be en- 
 titled to some favourable consideration. There is 
 imcfnestionably greater and more courageous merit in 
 bearing up with fortitude and resignation against the 
 ills of adversity, than in rashly presuming to escape 
 the trial by committing the act of self-murder. Reli- 
 gious motives, it is to betaken or granted, weigh in 
 his mind, as little as possible, either on one side of the 
 question or on the other. But if ever man, whether as 
 Sovereign or as Captain, had the stimulus of a motive, 
 paiamont over every other, to encounter " the immi- 
 nent deadly" shock of arms, Napoleon Buonaparte , at 
 the battle of Mont St. Jean, surely wets that man! If 
 ever regard for acquired reputation ; if ever passion for 
 posthumous fame, demanded that the Palm of Victory 
 should be snatched at, even from the opening jaws of 
 Death, Napoleon Buonaparte's reputation and fame 
 demanded the risk of such an attempt! His noble 
 opponent evinced what little value he set upon his life 
 in comparison with his honour, and with the glory and 
 preserveition of his army. He knew and felt the supe- 
 rior efficacy of personal example when he threw him* 
 
 Oo 
 
282 
 
 Self into the squares most pressed upon by the enemy's 
 cavalry, lie did what the crisis of the moment re- 
 quired, displaying a genius equally happy, and equally 
 prompt, when obstinacy was to be infused into the 
 spirit of defence, or when vigour and celerity were to be 
 imparted to the movement of resumed attack. 
 
 It was from the spot, on which we paused thus to 
 survey around it, and reflect on the event of which it 
 had been the Theatre — from this spot (as we are told) 
 did Napoleon address an harangue, replete with un- 
 founded topics of congratulation and encouragement, to 
 his veteran band : but he did not, in fellowship with 
 them, brave that fate, which their unlimited confidence 
 in and attachment to him, had inspired them to face, 
 with an impetuous intrepidity inferior only to that cool 
 and steady prowess by which all their efforts were de- 
 feated. It was, nevertheless, the more strictly his duty 
 on this occasion to have made an essay to redeem the 
 battle, by some signal act of valour, seeing that, through 
 his own infatuation in disbelieving or disregarding the 
 advance of the Prussians, his troops, flying from before 
 the sabres and bayonets of the British line, found their 
 retreat intercepted, and " became no longer an army." 
 As to the conduct of Buonaparte after his defeat, every 
 thing tends to shew that it was not more disgraceful in 
 itself than impolitic in its consequences, as far as re- 
 lated to his cause. It was a shameful and cruel deser- 
 tion of men whom he had brought into the pit of de- 
 struction. No middle point of ralliement and shelter 
 offering to his foresight and presence of mind between 
 Waterloo and Paris — he leaves his fugitive soldiers to 
 suffer all the horrors of keen and unsparing pursuit, 
 augmented by the absence of every kiud of plan lor 
 
288 
 
 tlmr direction and reorganization! We are told, in- 
 deed, that this man is still an object of attachment with 
 the soldiery of France. Grant the fact to be true ; and 
 what does it prove ? Only that which I have always 
 conceived to be the case : that the soldiery of that 
 country, generally speaking, have not the sentiments of 
 genuine military honour, but are actuated by the de- 
 praved and mercenary feelings of mere banditti clan- 
 ship : that they regard War as a trade, which it is their 
 interest, as it is their inclination, to push continually, 
 cost what it will to the rest of mankind ; and that they 
 look up to Napoleon as a speculator in the traffic, under 
 whom, so long as bloody work is to be found, they 
 would never be in want of employment ! 
 
 Pursuing our walk, we soon arrived at the rendezvous 
 of Wellington and Blucher ; and lest we should make 
 a mistake, and proceed further on, in quest of an edifice 
 more worthy of such celebrity than a paltry little 
 cabaret, its gable end is coarsely daubed with the words 
 u & Hotel de la Belle Alliance " The pompous hotel 
 is a lone cottage of very mean appearance, on the road 
 side, and I will be sworn, was but an ill-accustomed 
 Inn, until those renowned Generals justly gave it a 
 licence. Cannon balls have pierced it with many more 
 windows than it had before, and its out-houses are 
 knocked to pieces ; but the excursive flights of a fertile 
 imagination can alone give picturesque effect to a 
 humble object destined, by fortuitous and extraordinary 
 circumstances, to be commemorated in History's proud- 
 est page. At this point, however, we gain a pretty 
 view of the little village of Planchenoit, with its church 
 and spire, and woods in the rear, through which the 
 Prussians advanced from Frischermont on the right 
 
 Oo3 
 
284 
 
 flank of the French army. Leaving La Belle AtU&rice$ 
 we crossed the ground occupied by the Fr nch left 
 Ming, bet ween the Brussels and Neville roads. Our 
 walk, which partly followed the direction of a bye 
 road and partly struck across the fields, afforded pros- 
 pects of a fine and pleasant country. Here the luid, 
 which is all in tillage, but not so thick in its produce as 
 in the vallies, more frequently and perceptibly exposed 
 the groves, breaking the otherwise even surface of the 
 soil with rising tufts of deeper green than the rest : bits 
 of hats, leather, and cloth, thinly strewed about, were 
 all the remnants of the pele mele rout and pursuit that 
 last year effaced every mark of cultivation, and in a few 
 hours changed the smiling guerdon of the farmer's toil 
 into war's harvest home, when the labourers of destruc- 
 tion reap the " rich husbandry" of life, and resow the* 
 abused earth with the unhallowed fertility of blood ! 
 About a mile to the south-west of La Belle AUiance y 
 the woody eminence was pointed out to us, where 
 Buonaparte, attended by his escadrons de serviee, sta- 
 tioned himself and gave his orders during the early 
 part of the action. 
 
 At length, by a gentle descent, we approached the 
 Chateau of Rougomont, (or as by some it is called the 
 Chateau Gomont). On entering its little wood, we 
 found the peasants cutting into faggots the shattered 
 trunks and branches of trees which had lately been 
 felled. The ground was almost stripped of its um- 
 brageous features, but the effects of the cannonade were 
 still visible : some of the largest timbers were rived and 
 split in pieces by the shot, As Ave drew near the 
 orchard, our ears were greeted with the cheerful and- 
 harmonious sound of female voices : some women were 
 
285 
 
 milking their cows, and blithly singing within this* 
 rural inclosure, which a year before resounded with the 
 thunder of artillery, with the shouts of the combatants, 
 and the shrieks of the wounded. The fruit and other 
 trees on the side of the attack are most of them broken 
 or scarred by t he force of the hail storm of grape and 
 musketry ; yet many of the former were beautifully in 
 blossom. God and Nature are always the same : ever 
 bounteous — ever kind. It is man — weak, miserable 
 man-— who, instigated by the demon of unrestrained 
 passions, destroys the fair works of creation, and con- 
 verts the face of this goodly globe into a frightful but. 
 too accurate typification of that hell which rages in his 
 own" perturbed spirit." 
 
 The Chateau, as approached from the wood, has a 
 pretty picturesque appearance. As the conflagration, 
 did not extend to this front entrance, it serves as a 
 €6 fair mask" to the black shell within. The gate-house, 
 in old-fashioned form, flanked by the garden walls on 
 one side, and farming offices on the other, announces 
 ihe respectable residence of a Flemish country gentle- 
 man. On a nearer inspection we find the door ways 
 and window frames literally riddled with balls, and the 
 brick- work bored in ten thousand places with missiles 
 of all dimensions. A few yards from the western en- 
 trance we are shewn the place where 600 dead bodies of 
 the French were burnt. The remains of this funeral 
 pile now forms a small hillock, composed of wood 
 ashes and calcined bones, slightly mixed not covered 
 with earth. Entering the first court yard of the Cha- 
 teau, we then indeed beheld a striking picture of dila- 
 pidation. Of the mansion of the proprietor just enough 
 remains standing to enable one in some measure to judge; 
 
286 
 
 <of the easy circumstances in which he enjoyed the 
 tranquillity of his retired demesne. The half-burnt 
 timbers of the roofs, and rafters of the floors fallen in 
 upon or tottering over huge masses of discoloured 
 masonry, cover the ground with a chaos of ruin. In 
 the interior court we found a scene, if possible, of still 
 more complete destruction ; it was before the action a 
 quadrangle of barns, granaries, and stables. 
 
 Too many gleaners had been before us to leave any 
 other memorials of the ferocious conflict except the 
 musket balls and cartridge papers with which the 
 ground was strewn, and the grape shot lodged in the 
 shattered rafters, of which we pocketed a few as souve* 
 nirs of the place. In short, the only habitable part of 
 the worthy Brabanter's country seat that now remains 
 entire is the porter's lodge, and the adjoining dwelling 
 of the gardener, a well-behaved communicative rustic, 
 who attended us through the mazes of this rubbish- 
 clogged wilderness. This man, by his own account, 
 continued at his post, in the Chateau, during a consi- 
 derable portion of the dreadful assault, which com- 
 menced so early as ten o'clock in the morning, till the 
 place became too hot to hold him : and he frankly con- 
 fessed, that seeing no further use his presence could be 
 of to his master's property, he took the prudent resolu- 
 tion of escaping to the asylum, whither his wife and 
 children had previously retreated. 
 
 From this man's story of the memorable day, it seems, 
 that being unsuccessful in all their attacks on the front 
 of the place, towards the wood, the French, under the 
 orders of Jerome Buonaparte, had the boldness to 
 march round to the opposite side, and in spite of the 
 heavy and admirably-directed fire of the English bat- 
 
I 
 
 287 
 
 teries, which played upon them across the deep ravine 
 that divides Hougomont from the NiveMe road, they 
 succeeded in forcing an entrance at the gate of the 
 Basse Cour. From thence they made three successive 
 attempts to gain possession of the house, but were each 
 time repulsed with great slaughter. It was in the last 
 of these murderous encounters that the buildings were 
 set on fire (according to the acknowledgement of one 
 of their own writers) by the French themselves, and 
 many of our wounded men, unable to escape, perished 
 miserably in the flames that consumed the chateau, 
 The bodies of the unfortunate sufferers still remain uu~ 
 disturbed beneath the ruins. The crumbling founda- 
 tions and fallen turrets of the chateau form their grave 
 and monument. There, brave and honourable, 
 
 ■ " they sank to lest, 
 
 " By all their country's wishes blest. 
 
 For never did warriors sustain a more heroic part than 
 did the brigade of British Guards who defended Hou- 
 goumont. This now famous spot was one of the most 
 important parts of the English position. That the 
 enemy regarded its acquisition as an object most essen- 
 tial for the accomplishment of their plans, is manifestly 
 shewn by the prodigal sacrifice of lives which they made 
 to obtain it : and the ultimate success of its defence, 
 against the boldest and most persevering assaults, re- 
 dounds as highly to the honour of the British troops, as 
 the arrangements made for its occupation and support 
 reflect credit on the foresight of their Chief. It was 
 with encreased interest, therefore, that we entered the 
 garden, which our attendant (as he displayed the wreck 
 of his horticultural care and labour) informed us the 
 English retired to after the conflagration had dis- 
 
288 
 
 lodged them from the buildings, and made it a strong 
 hold impregnable to their opponents. With this gar- 
 den a communication was constantly kept up with the 
 main body of our army through the adjoining orchard, 
 and under cover of the hollow way contiguous to it, by 
 which means reinforcements were thrown in from time 
 to time, which enabled Colonel Macdonald, and after* 
 ward Colonel Home, to resist the pressure of a whole 
 division of the enemy's army. 
 
 On a more attentive examination of the position of 
 liougomont) as forming the return (as it is professionally 
 called) of the Duke of Wellington's right flank, my 
 friend, as a military man, made me observe, that had 
 the French succeeded in gaining possession of it, the 
 fire of their sharp shooters, from the orchard and other 
 woody covers^ on its northern side, must have rendered 
 it next to impossible for our artillery to have kept their 
 ground on the heights that command the Nivelle road, 
 and consequently the whole of that part of the British 
 line would have been exposed to be enfiladed. The 
 garden, in the Flemish taste, laid out in straight walks^ 
 diverging, through plathandes, from the centre, and 
 green allees of saplings, forming long embowering al- 
 coves, had doubtless been a picture of Flemish neatness 
 also ; but now presents a no less lively image of the 
 desolation produced by War — " unpruned and grown 
 to wildness, losing both beauty and utility." The walls 
 are irenele (pierced with loop holes) for musketry, and 
 murderous must have been the aim of our tirailleurs 
 from behind these barriers, to storm which the assailants 
 from the wood had to force their way through a thick 
 hedge, at less than 80 yards distance. Here we were 
 shewn the spot where Captain Crawford, of the Guards, 
 
289 
 
 tfois killed by a cannon ball ; a long deep stain of blood 
 still marks the stucco of the wall against which our 
 gallant countryman fell. The body of this officer was 
 interred by his servant near the fatal spot; but (the 
 gardener told us) about two months afterwards his aged 
 lather paid a melancholy visit there, to weep over the 
 grave of a lamented child, and convey his remains to 
 England. Many other English officers and men lie 
 buried in the garden and orchard, and the spade has 
 hitherto abstained from its accustomed task, wherever 
 the sepulchral heaps arise, out of becoming respect for 
 " the soldier's grave." Though situated amidst sur- 
 rounding flame, the little Chapel of the Chateau was 
 preserved. The door was burnt, and the fire reaehed 
 the feet of a large crucifix, placed over the entrance in 
 the inside, and there stopped! Over the altar, at the 
 opposite end, is an image of " Our Lady," the Blessed 
 Virgin, to whom this domestic house of worship is de- 
 dicated, and to whose miraculous interposition its pre- 
 servation is devoutly attributed by the good Catholic i 
 inhabitants of Hougomont ! In this, as in every other 
 quarter of the field, men, women, and children, flock 
 around us with vociferous importunities to buy their 
 little stock of eagles, helmets, swords, pistols, cockades, 
 belts, and buttons. Cuirasses are a scarce article; and 
 so indeed, ere long, will be the veriest u shreds and 
 patches" of the fray ; for these ragged pedlars in French 
 " army appointments" drive a roaring trade, that gets 
 rid of the most insignificant and even spurious articles 
 of the kind in question. I took the word of our young 
 peasant for the genuineness of an Eagle, as having be- 
 longed to a grenadier's Cap of (La Vieille Garde) the 
 Old Guard ; and I shall preserve it sacredly, as the re* 
 membrancer of a visit in which I experienced (what th$ 
 
290 
 
 exciting cause was eminently calculated to make rae 
 feel) the mingled and conflicting sensations of pleasure, 
 pain, and pride ! 
 
 On our return back to Mount Saint John, in the di- 
 rection of the Nivelle road, (which gave us a view of 
 the village of Merbe Braine, and the more distant one 
 of Braine le Lewie) we willingly suffered ourselves to 
 pause at what our guide assured us was " Le lieu oil 
 le Prince Orange fut bless x a la ttte des troupes des 
 Pays Bas. The young Prince appears to be a great 
 favourite with the Brabanters. Although but ill at ease 
 under their union to the Dutch, they nevertheless seem 
 to glorify themselves on the bravery displayed by the 
 eldest son of their new King, and speak of his cha- 
 racter in rather enthusiastic terms. In the course of 
 our perambulation, we met several parties on the same 
 errand as ourselves, with whom we occasionally ex- 
 changed a few words of conversation on the common 
 subject of our curiosity. The peasants who accom- 
 panied these inquisitive groups, were uniformly ready 
 to communicate information. It was truly gratifying to 
 find them speak of the conduct and discipline of our 
 brave countrymen in invariable terms of respect and 
 satisfaction. They characterised the English as " aussi 
 honnetes que braves ; and indeed this was not the mere 
 Complimentary language of groundless panegyric, for 
 our Army had not only saved Mont St. Jean and Water- 
 loo (and perhaps Brussels; from the ravages of fire and 
 sword, but had carried its honourable dealing to the 
 length of punctually accounting for all provisions^ 
 forage, and other necessaries required for its mainte- 
 nance and equipment while in the field. One of the 
 Jiritish Commissariat (a gentleman with whom we had 
 tbe pleasure of becoming acquainted) remains at Brus- 
 
291 
 
 sels for the express purpose of paying the bills given to 
 the people of the country in exchange for the supplies 
 drawn. And this was the plan pursued by the Duke 
 of Wellington, while the French (like true soldiers of 
 the Buonaparte school) were rioting in every species of 
 excess ; quarreling among themselves, and seeking only 
 how they might gratify to the utmost their love of 
 pillage, devastation, and cruelty, in the very bosom of 
 their own country, and on the frontier territory of the 
 people whom they were approaching again to fraternize 
 and liberate. 
 
 For defending their altars and fire-sides from the 
 renewed pollution of such a horde of ruffians, the inha- 
 bitants of Mont St. Jean and Waterloo do thankfully 
 acknowledge the obligations which they are under to 
 the English army, Of the merits of the Prussians they 
 certainly sing in another and a very different strain, and 
 evince an infinitely greater propensity to dwell witl* 
 reprobation on the gout de brigandage^ indulged in by 
 Blucher's u chers enfans" than on the important part 
 which these rough Allies performed towards accom- 
 plishing the defeat and ruin of the invading host. A 
 chief portion of the population of both sexes, and of all 
 ages, in the immediate vicinity of the field of battle, took 
 shelter in the surrounding woods, where the Prussians, 
 on their advance to join the British, found them, and 
 made such as were able-bodied exceedingly useful, as 
 guides, pioneers, and drivers. Moreover, the old say- 
 ing that < two of a trade can never agree," has its ap- 
 plication to the grudge which the Waterloo folks bear 
 to the Prussians : for without forming one of the open 
 complaints against them, a most unpardonable offence 
 was committed by these unceremonious gentry, in that 
 feeir rapacious hussars and landwher engrossed to? 
 
 Pp2 
 
292 
 
 large a share of the spoils of the field. Tbe honest 
 Brabanters, it seems, not content with the " pretty 
 pickings" among the British baggage laid fast in tbe 
 forest of Soignies* had the conscience to covet the rich 
 materiel left behind by the flying cohorts of " his Ma- 
 jesty the Emperor of the French," on the spacious 
 plain of La Belle Alliance ! 
 
 There was one point of fact which we were particularly 
 attentive to ascertain in passing along the extent of the 
 British line. It has been stated by the French narrators 
 of the Battle, as if to account for and in a measure to 
 excuse the failure and overthrow of their invincible 
 warriors, that our men were protected by redoubts. 
 Not the slightest appearance of an entrenchment could 
 we, however, discern, except indeed where Nature 
 herself had been the engineer. Above Hougomont, the 
 surface of the soil is most broken and difficult of ap- 
 proach : from thence to La II aye Sainte it is sufficiently 
 uneven and wavy to afford shelter to troops, but not to 
 oppose, in itself, any formidable impediments either to 
 infantry or cavalry. To the left of La Haye Sainte 
 Farm the ground forms a ridge of considerable eleva- 
 tion, diminishing gradually in height as it reaches Pa- 
 pelot, and forming in front a gentle slope, up and 
 down, which a bold horseman would think little of 
 galloping at full speed. The story of the redoubts^ 
 therefore, though vouched for by " un temoin oculaire" 
 we may venture to pronounce incorrect. The day of 
 the 18th of J une was a day of fair fighting, with " a 
 clear stage and no favour/' 
 
 Many and agreeable were the opportunities which 
 our ramble afforded us, of bearing testimony to thp 
 fidelity of Mr. Henry Barker's Panorama, than which 
 a finer painting never was produced from the pencil of 
 
293 
 
 that distinguished artist. In local accuracy it is strik> 
 ingly meritorious : the different features of the ground ; 
 its gentle, not abrupt declivities ; its easy swells, not 
 towering eminences, the actual space occupied by the 
 combatants, reduced by a remarkable concentration of 
 military movements within the space of two square miles, 
 contrasted with the extensive compass of the scenery — its 
 open foreground and wood-belted horizon ; its thinly 
 scattered villages and its insulated buildings, insigni- 
 ficant, for the most part 3 but for the " tale that hangs 
 by them." All these are given with an effect that 
 astonishes, and a minuteness of truth that is equally 
 delightful and valuable ! 
 
 On our journey back to Brussels, we stopped near 
 the Inn at Waterloo, where the Generalissimo dated 
 his dispatches, and which has now the honour of calling 
 itself (as per sign over the door) Le Quartier General 
 du Ducde Wellington. Exactly on the opposite side 
 of the road is the Church, which as its architecture is 
 jiot Gothic, must, I presume, go undejc the denomina- 
 tion of a structure in the Grecian stile. Like Saint 
 Paul's at London, Waterloo Church has a portico and 
 a dome. There is certainly some little difference in 
 point of scale and symmetry ; moreover it is built of 
 brick instead of stone : nor is the interior of this village 
 Temple of Prayer more capable than its outside of 
 standing the test of so dignified a comparison. Yet, 
 like the Cathedral of the metropolis of the British 
 Empire, it can boast of its proud distinction as a mauso- 
 leum of British Heroes. To some it served as a tem- 
 porary hospital, to others as a death-bed and a tomb ! 
 The zealous promptitude of manly friendship has 
 already poured forth the sentiment of affection and 
 regret for comrades loved in life 3 and dear in death j 
 
294 
 
 fallen partners in glory, and of " valour proof/' by 
 
 gracing the walls with tributes of commemoration' and 
 regard. These consist of plain and simple marble 
 tablets of which 1 perused and copied the inscriptive 
 lines with a veneration far more heartfelt than could 
 have been excited in my mind by the most imposing 
 effort of the sculptor's genius ! * 
 
 And now, our circuit completed, our curiosity satis- 
 fied, our respect manifested, we bid farewell to the 
 scene. Farewell, graves of the slain; tombs of the 
 brave, farewell! Adieu Mont Saint Jean; adieu 
 Waterloo ! In this my humble visit to your fields and 
 "woods, which deeds of arms have raised from obscurity 
 
 * They are as follow : 
 
 To the Memory of 
 Major Edwin Griffith, 
 Lieutenant Isaac Sherwood, and 
 Lieutenant Henry Buckley, 
 Officers in the XVth, King's Regiment of Hussars, (British) who fell in 
 the Battle of Waterloo, June 18, 1815. — This stone was erected by the 
 Officers of that Regiment, as a testimony of their respect. — DuUe et 
 Decorum est pro pat rid mori. 
 
 Sacred to the Memory of 
 
 Lieutenant, Colonels Edward Stables, Sir Francis D'Oyley, K. C. B. 
 Charles Thomas, William Henry Milner. 
 
 Captains Robert Adair, Edward Grose, Newton Chambers, Thos. Brown. 
 
 Ensigns Edward Pardoe, James Lord Hav, the Hon. S. S. P. Barrington ; 
 of his Britannic Majesty's First Regiment of Foot Guards, who fell 
 gloriously in the battles of Quatre Bras and Waterloo, on the 16th 
 and 18th June, 1815. The Officers of the Regiment have erected this 
 Monument in commemoration of the fall of their gallant companions. 
 
 There is a third Monument erected, by his brother Officers, to the 
 memory of Lieut. Wm. Langton Robe, of the Royal British Horse 
 Artillery. The cemetery is at least a quarter of a mile from the Church, 
 8 secluded spot, approached through woodland paths ; but we visited it, 
 and found that its principal tenants had died on the same sanguinary bed 
 of honour. The remains of Lieut.-ColQD.el Fitzgerald, of the Life Quacdsfc 
 repose iu this church-yard. 
 
295 
 
 to fame, on no object presented to my sight, on no incident 
 impressive to my mind, have I deemed it too trivial to 
 expatiate, closely associated as they are with the victo- 
 rious campaign of a single battle, won by our Country's 
 Pride. A pilgrimage to the grassy tumuli of our 
 Military Worthies will never, I trust, be needful, in 
 order to revive our admiring remembrance of their 
 matchless exploits. A short time, indeed, will suffice 
 to remove the smallest remaining vestige of the awful 
 step with which martial desolation besirode the undu- 
 lating plain. Already the plenteous gifts of Ceres wave 
 over the mouldering heaps of the thousands sacrificed 
 a short twelvemonth ago $ to an Ambition remorseless 
 and without bounds, of which Human Wickedness was 
 the instrument, and Human Happiness the sport and 
 victim. Already the harmless milk-maid tunes her 
 merry note, in the verdant lawn of flougomont, whose 
 fallen groves, dismantled wails, half-consumed edifices, 
 and bowers forlorn, bear witness to the fiery rage of 
 .that destructive Genius, whose cry, amidst the earth- 
 born tempest, was "havoc and let slip the dogs of War." 
 J3ut although all local reliques will soon be no longer 
 recognizable, yet thus to view the place of the combat ; 
 thus to ponder its circumstances and results on the verjr 
 ground where it was fought, is calculated assuredly to 
 enhance, in our estimation and praise, the merits of 
 Wellington and his companions in arms. Lasting as 
 .the sea-girt cliffs of Albion be the honoured memory 
 of such transcendant actions atchieved by her noble 
 sons; and tender, grateful, u but exulting" be the tear 
 that is claimed for the fallen warriors of our beloved 
 country* 
 
296 
 
 Cursory remarks on the manners, dress, habits, and politics 
 of the Bruxellois — Pleasing instances of attention from 
 Strangers — Accommodation of an Hotel at Brussels. 
 
 X HIS day was chiefly occupied in a sort of general 
 ramble, for purposes of cursory observation, over thig 
 large, populous, and busy place. The streets of 
 Brussels are numerous, and although, for the greater 
 part, subject to the inconvenience of running in a steep 
 descent, are tolerably well pierced, and contain a large 
 proportion of handsome houses. All those of ancient 
 date, and many of the more modern ones, have their 
 gables turned towards the street, and their architecture 
 frequently displays extremely rich and elaborate work- 
 manship, but designed after a heavy taste. Such as 
 were erected subsequent to the bombardment of the 
 town, by Marshall Villeroi, in 1695, are distinguished 
 by that date being inscribed on their walls, as well as bjr 
 a lighter and more elegant stile. But what, to an Eng- 
 lish eye, is, perhaps, the most striking peculiarity iti 
 the appearance of the streets of Brussels, results from 
 the universal custom of painting the front walls of the 
 Jbouses. Some have yellow, others white sides ; but the 
 favourite colour is a light green : and as this darling 
 employ of beautifying with the brush is renewed from 
 time to time, the due execution of the work is provided 
 for in the very construction of the brickwork - 9 for ia 
 
 June 12th. 
 
297 
 
 'the attic story apertures are invariably left for the 
 occasional introduction of poles, from which, placed 
 'horizontally into the wall, the requisite scaffolding is 
 suspended ; a mode of which the advantages for all 
 purposes of repair were exemplified in several instances 
 that met our eye. By the expedient of these hanging 
 scaffolds much of that impediment to public thorough- 
 fares, which with us is of frequent recurrence, is com- 
 pletely avoided. 
 
 The hackney-coaches and cabriolets are numerous 
 and good. Their fares within the walls are regulated 
 oil the same principle as at Paris, and arc reasonable 
 enough : in excursions beyond the town the charges are 
 arbitrary, but seldom extravagant. Brussels still re- 
 tains its character on the Continent for building elegant 
 coaches ; and one cannot fail to notice the greatly 
 superior neatness and excellence of the carriages of all 
 descriptions here, compared with those of France. Well- 
 constructed, and suitable to their respective purposes, 
 whether of pleasure or utility, no pains nor expence 
 seem to be spared in their decoration. The agricul- 
 tural waggons are nicely painted, in gaudy colours; 
 and the harness of leather, well polished and inlaid 
 w ith brass ornaments, makes a shew in which the driver 
 takes almost as much pride as he does in the sleek 
 skins and fat sides of his large Flanders mares. The 
 bodies of the waggons employed in the conveyance of 
 coals or manure, are made of basket-work, so well knit 
 together as to contain very ponderous loads. We 
 used to be much amused in watching the progress of 
 the dog carts. On the road, it is by no means uncom- 
 mon to see six or eight large mastiffs harnessed to four- 
 'wheel vehicles of a size corresponding to their strength^ 
 
 O q 
 
598 
 
 which is greater, when exerted in this way, than one 
 would be inclined to suppose. These canine beasts of 
 draught are used at |ome of the warehouses, to draw 
 bales of considerable bulk and weight. 
 
 Numerous fountains contribute to the salubrity and 
 convenience of this city.* The markets are various: 
 almost every species of provisions has its appropriated 
 place of sale ; they are in general well supplied, and the 
 prices cheap. Butcher's meat and poultry have here a 
 much more sightly aspect than at Paris. The bread, 
 butter, and cheese are delicious. Their beer, which is a 
 pleasant common beverage, is of t wo sorts, distinguished 
 from their colours, by the name of bierre brune and bierre 
 blanche* At the hotels and private houses it is set on 
 table in large glass decanters. Their fruit market was 
 well stocked with fine apples and pears, preserved to 
 perfection through the winter in cellars. Articles of 
 forced culture were scarce and dear.t 
 
 The Bruxellois are a lively cheerful set of people, 
 apparently as eager in pursuit of pleasure, and as fond 
 of its dissipations as the Parisians themselves. Their 
 observance of the Sunday did not seem to be very re- 
 ligiously strict. The shops, indeed, far from being 
 uniformly kept shut, served to remind me of the French 
 
 * One of these, so far from being, like the rest, an embellishment, is, 
 both in name and in nature, a gross violation of public decency. It is 
 Called the Manneke P — ss, and consists of a small bronze statue, executed 
 by a no less celebrated artist than Duquesnoy, representing a naked boy, 
 who, under the influence of some watery planet, supplies a never-failing 
 Stream, to the refreshment and edification of all passengers. In witness- 
 ing such ^spectacle, we could not but commend the delicacy of Louis XV. 
 in sending this brazen-faced young urchin a little pair of breech* s ! 
 
 f The price asked us for some bunches of hot-house grapes was at 
 the rate of 18 francs per lb. and a middle sized pine apple 20 francs. 
 
299 
 
 capital in the time of the Consular Government, vibrat- 
 ing, as things then did, between the Christian weekly 
 Sabbath and the Republican Decade. I could hardly 
 believe myself within a city of the Catholic Netherlands ; 
 but an indifference and laxity in matters of this kind 
 are a characteristic of the people of Brussels, who, in- 
 deed, as well in manners as in language, would appear 
 to belong more to France than to Flanders. There is 
 scarcely a child but can address you in both French 
 and Flemish with equal facility. This would prove 
 a step higher in the scale of wonderments to the Mister 
 John Bull, whose surprise was so great at hearing even 
 the little boys and girls talk French at Calais t By the 
 bye, the boys at Brussels have not a great deal to be 
 said in their favour, besides what belongs to their quali- 
 fications as linguists. In their assumed capacity of 
 CommissionnaireS) on the contrary, they are exceed* 
 ingly importunate and troublesome to strangers on their 
 first arrival. The gates of hotels, and the Bureaux des 
 Messageries are beset with troops of lads from 10 to 15 
 years of age, imbued with vicious principles, and active 
 in all sorts of bad tricks. Not content with teazing to 
 be made honestly useful to the traveller, they seek to 
 recommend themselves by the most impudent offers of 
 pimping services. In dress, the fashions of France pre- 
 dominate, both with the townsmen and women, over the 
 peculiarity of the Low Country costume, which seems 
 in a great measure left to the peasantry. A relic of the 
 Spanish female garb remains in the faille, or veil, which 
 not only the servants, but their mistresses in respectable 
 life, throw over their heads, in lieu of cap or bonnet, 
 when going to church, or market, or on a visit. They 
 are made of a stout black silk or stuff, according to the 
 
 Uq2 
 
300 
 
 quality or means of (he wearer; and, it must be con* 
 fessed, that a pretty face and a pair of good eyes lose 
 none of their fascinations while beheld enshrouded 
 by the gracefully disposed folds of this sombre but 
 becoming drapery. 
 
 It struck us as a forcible evidence of the Frenchified 
 state of Brussels, that we should meet with more in- 
 stances than one among the Bourgeois and shopkeepers, 
 of persons (one of them a very intelligent and well-bred 
 young woman) who though natives of Brabant were 
 unacquainted with any other language than the French. 
 With manners and habits thus closely assimilated to 
 those of an Empire of which the events of the Revolu- 
 tion had caused them, for many years, to form an in- 
 tegral part, the inhabitants of this place, as may 
 naturally be expected, partake with their Gallican 
 neighbours in that character of political inconstancy, 
 and in those unsteady principles of reasoning on ques- 
 tions of public rights, which, having no foundation in 
 real patriotism or knowledge of true liberty, only open 
 their eyes to grievances which they are unable to trace 
 to their true source, and render them dupes to designing . 
 and disaffected men, whose malignant object is to cast, 
 if possible, on England, the odium of those very evils 
 which owe their sole origin and present aggravation to 
 the daring iniquity and obstinate folly of Ex-Imperial 
 France. But, whilst this appeared to be the operating 
 spirit of what may be called the French party in 
 Brussels and other parts of the late Austrian Nether- 
 lands, we met also with persons who hesitated not to 
 avow an attachment to more rational and more sound 
 opinions, and who professed to regard an order of things, 
 which had put an end to forced loans and conscript ions, 
 
301 
 
 and restored the country to a state of peace, as a change 
 of which the advantages preponderated greatly over 
 those which had at any time resulted from their political 
 connection with the French nation, and would ulti- 
 mately prove beneficial to Flanders, although clogged 
 and loaded with an union to Holland. The union^ in- 
 deed, appeared to be a subject of general regret and 
 discontent to both the contracting parties, and especially 
 to the Flemings : and really the Dutch and the Belgian 
 character are so opposite to each other ; in matters of 
 religion and cf state policy they have, for a very long 
 period of time, espoused opinions and cherished in-^ 
 terests so essentially different, that the repugnance of 
 the latter people to a connection which gives a predo- 
 minance, through the person of the reigning Prince, to 
 the influence of the former, resolves itself into too obvi- 
 ous a matter of national feeling to excite much surprise. 
 That the measure of re-uniting the seventeen provinces of 
 the Low Countries, after so long a separation both in 
 government and in sentiment, was requisite on pruden- 
 tial and precautionary grounds, to ensure the stability 
 of the Peace of Europe, 1 am far from being disposed 
 to deny. But certainly, no considerations of an impor- 
 tance short of the anxiety to obtain permanent security 
 for that great and desirable object, could have justified 
 the adoption of a plan which, although geographically 
 perfect, is and, I fear, will, for the present at least, be 
 found to be morally defective. 
 
 u Hail ! ye small sweet courtesies of life, for smooth 
 do ye make the road of it." Not a few have been the 
 occasions, on our journey, that prompted us sincerely 
 to ejaculate this grateful apostrophe of the sentimental 
 Sterne ; and the incidents of to-day made an addition 
 
302 
 
 to their number. Asking oar way of a person, whose 
 respectable appearance gave a sort of warranty to our 
 application, we received from him the fullest informa- 
 tion in the civilest terms possible, and proceeded to 
 carry the directions into practice. The details of local 
 instruction, however, though in themselves very correct, 
 proved, by the time we had got a hundred yards, some- 
 what too minute for our memory : this our good-natured 
 informant actually anticipated, and just as we found 
 ourselves at a stand-still, pop, he was at our elbow. He 
 had watched our progress at a distance, and noticing 
 our first aberration from the right path, came running 
 to put us in the way again : nor was he content to take 
 a jot less trouble than that of actually accompanying 
 us to the very door of the place we sought ! These acts 
 of kindness and urbanity, received from strangers in a 
 strange land, impart a gratification far exceeding the 
 simple measure of their intrinsic value : they serve, in 
 fact, as cheering exceptions to the gloomy rule of 
 worldly selfishness, and have the effect of putting a man 
 in good humour with mankind, and consequently with 
 himself. With a frame of disposition never, I trust, 
 unresponsive to the touch of these impressions, I should 
 incur the reproach of my own mind, were I, in these 
 slight memoranda of Brussels, to omit acknowledging 
 how much the enjoyment of our short stay in it was 
 enhanced by the polite and even friendly attentions of 
 a gentleman whom we were fortunate enough to travel 
 with from Mons. To Mr. L. and his friend Mr. M. 
 (the one a Swede and the other a Hanoverian, both 
 officers attached to the Commissariat of the Duke of 
 Wellington) we were indebted for feeling the sensation, 
 though four days only in a town abroad^ of being -very 
 much at home. , 
 
303 
 
 By the recommendation of the former gentleman, we 
 took up our quarters at the Hotel de Luxembourg — a 
 house apparently but u little known to Fame" and to 
 the English ; yet where the accommodations were good, 
 the folks attentive and obliging, and tiie charges mode- 
 rate in the extreme : advantages which hitherto have 
 not been at all uncommon at Brussels — than which (by 
 all accounts it would seem) no place on the continent, 
 whether in its inns or private residences, or in its ge- 
 neral supply of commodities necessary, useful, or luxu- 
 rious, has been accustomed to furnish forth more of the 
 desiderata of social life at a more reasonable rate. But 9 
 says the resident citizen — " Thanks to your lavish 
 inconsiderate countrymen, who come here in throngs 
 for good and cheap living, things of all kinds are begin- 
 ning to get indifferent and dear /'* Our host of th e Lux* 
 cmbourg, an honest simple-mannered Fleming of the 
 Old School, is a widower, and with two daughters, 
 well behaved modest young women, conducts the busi- 
 ness of a house, in which, if we are not splendidly we 
 are comfortably lodged : the sleeping rooms commodi- 
 ous ; the beds, though in the French stile for form, 
 are cleanly and good ; the furniture neat ; the floors 
 plainly showing their easy familiarity with mops and 
 brushes, soap and water; the kitchen, a fair sample of 
 the Flemish, and a forcible contrast to the French, is a 
 polished picture of culinary niceness and arrangement. 
 There are other points of ease and comfort, in which we 
 find the manners and habits of the Brabantine innkeepers 
 are congenial to our insular prepossessions — particularly 
 in the order of certain places of occasional retirement, 
 in which their Gallican brethren are so disgustingly de- 
 ficient. Our Swedish friend L. met us this afternoon^ 
 
304 
 
 at olir hole], pursuant to invitation. * It is a custom at 
 the hotels in Flanders and Holland (and the same pre- 
 vails, I believe, throughout Germany), for a little 
 strolling band of musicians to enter, during dinner, the 
 public salle a manger, and entertain the company as- 
 sembled at the table d'hote with a display of vocal and 
 instrumental talent, such as it may be. Mr. L. on this 
 occasion, procured us a treat, from three extraordinary 
 performers on the violin and violoncello. They were 
 youths under eighteen : one deaf, one blind, and the 
 third a cripple; who, without being acquainted with a 
 single note of music, gave us, by dint of ear and skill- 
 ful practice, an admirable concert! After a pleasant 
 walk to Alice Verte and back, we adjourned to the Cqffe 
 Suisse (opposite the Opera house) famous in Brussels 
 for the excellence of its (Ponehe Glace) Iced Punch : 
 and over a bowl of that congealed compound of opposite 
 ingredients, cooling to the palate, and warm to the sto- 
 mach, we took leave of our friendly foreigners, and 
 bade adieu to the agremcns of Brussels. 
 
 ' * The dinner (en particulier) in private, for three, consisted of soup r 
 entrees of beef, of veal, of poultry, and of pastry — a dessert of apples, 
 pears, and almonds and raisins— and, including table beer, two bottles 
 of Burgundy and one of claret, each sort of very good quality j the 
 whole cost us at the rate of little more than five shillings a head] 
 
803 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 journey in the Diligence, through Vilvorde and Mechlin to 
 
 Antwerp—The Cathedral of Antwerp — Restored Pictures 
 
 — Museum of Paintings— Church of St. James—Tomb of 
 
 Rubens — Promenade of Burchem. 
 
 •■ v Vr'i 'i -v isfor ^ti-v^afi'-i^-l' A- ■*■ • IN ' »M* 
 
 June 13th. 
 
 .A FTER breakfast, we discharged our bill at the Hotel 
 de Luxembourg, (the business of passports and pther 
 indispensibfe travelling preliminaries having previously 
 been attended to), a;nd with expressions of satisfaction 
 on our part, and of thankful acknowledgement on theirs, 
 taking leave of honest master Franke and his two well- 
 behaved daughters, we proceeded to occupy our places 
 in the cabriolet of one of the Antwerp Diligences. We 
 found in the construction and appointments of this ve- 
 hicle, a great improvement on those of France. Horses, 
 carriage, and harness, were of a piece — good-looking, 
 substantial, and serviceable. The driver (who acts in 
 that capacity and as conducteur likewise; sits with the 
 passengers in the cabriolet ; but we had more than once 
 occasion to wish ours out of it, arid on horseback as 
 postillion a la Fran^aise— -for in applying the elongated 
 thong of his whip to the well-fed sides of his four-in- 
 hand, he would incontinently bring the handle of it in 
 abrupt collision with his next neighbour's nose ; and 
 this with most unwelcome frequency, if, warned by 
 experience, the above-named prominent feature of the 
 human countenance were not, at every lash, simultane- 
 ously put out of harm's way ! 
 
 Rr 
 
308 
 
 in spite, however, of all drawbacks of this sort, our 
 journey proved extremely pleasant and interesting* 
 The road, for the first six miles, runs along the canal, 
 which connects Brussels with the navigation of the 
 Scheldt, and of which the broad cut and direct course 
 are singularly contrasted with the sinuous channel of the 
 little river Senne that flows beside it From Lacken 
 (of whose charming Palace and Grounds we have in 
 this point a fine view) to Vilvorde, the way is literally 
 lined with gentleman's seats, both to the right and left. 
 The houses, many of them, are of the most elegant de- 
 scription i and their gardens and lawns, invariably the 
 verdant and flowery scenes of rural neatness and abun- 
 dance, frequently display the happiest proofs of a refined 
 taste, and a correct knowledge of the picturesque. The 
 Castle of Vilvorde, built by Duke Wenceslaus, in 1375, 
 and formerly the depository of the Archives of Brabant, 
 is now a provincial prison. Our driver assured us, that 
 no fewer than twelve hundred mauvais sujets, of both 
 sexes, were then confined within the immense quadrangle 
 of this correctional strong hold. The deep wet ditch, 
 and one of the flanking towers, are all that remain as 
 testimoniatls of its former seignorial consequence. 
 
 About six miles more travelling brings us to the Ar- 
 chiepiscopal See of Mechlin or Malincs, the gates of 
 which we approach by a bridge over the great canal of 
 Louvain. On entering the Market-place of Malines, 
 one imagines oneself reverted several centuries back, to 
 the times of the powerful Earls of Flanders, to whom 
 these Low Countries, with the unostentatious names of 
 Counties, were, in strength and influence, as an united 
 kingdom. The architectural objects that here sur- 
 rounded us, had evidently retained all their ancient 
 
307 
 
 form and character. In England there are no parallel 
 instances ; and consequently with us but a faint idea can 
 be formed of the effect produced by this general and 
 strong adherence to the early stile of building. The 
 streets are spacious ; and many of the houses appear on 
 a grand and even magnificent scale. The famous tower 
 of Saint Romauld's Cathedral, is a stupendous and in- 
 describably rich piece of sculptured masonry. The 
 accurate pencil of Hollau has given a delineation of 
 the florid tracery and filagree lightness of this lofty 
 structure, superior to any idea which verbal description 
 could impart; and he has properly observed, that had 
 it been finished according to the design and scale of 
 elevation originally intended, the world itself would 
 scarcely have produced its equal. It has, however, 
 been left for the present church-building age to cap the 
 climax of its fairy workmanship ! 
 
 Leaving Malines 9 of which the environs are as agree- 
 able to the eye of the traveller, as its buildings are inte- 
 resting to his associative reflections, we pursued our 
 way along an excellent paved road, which, in its wind- 
 ing course, delighted us with varied prospects of a 
 country fertile and beautiful in the extreme. Every 
 rood of ground exhibited proofs of assiduous and hus* 
 bandman-like agriculture, in the most luxuriant produce 
 ©f corn, clover, peas, and beans. Flax also is much 
 cultivated here. Some part of our route lay through 
 inclosures: in other districts the fields are open. A 
 mixture of woodland, arable, and pasturage, form the 
 pleasing constituents of the Brabantine prospect. — 
 Among the fine ranges of grass lands, -however, we 
 looked in vain for sheep, and cows, and oxen. The 
 cattle, it seems, are fed in the yards and stalls j and to 
 
 Rr2 
 
308 
 
 this practice the landscape of summer owes its depriva* 
 lion of a lively arid picturesque feature. The extreme 
 populousness of the country, the perpetual succession 
 of chateaux and farm-houses, serving as the connecting* 
 links to a chain of neat villages, render it one of the 
 most agreeable rides, at this season of the year, that can 
 be imagined. The cheerful effect was heightened by 
 delicious weather, and the circumstance of ' a jour de fete 
 (St Antony Vday) which brought aut all the peasantry 
 in their best attire. Approaching, as we may now be 
 said to do, upon the borders of Holland, we begin to 
 observe symptoms of approximation to the Dutch cos- 
 tume; Trunk hose and broad hats for the men ; and a 
 fullness of petticoat paraphernalia for the women. It 
 was sympathetically impossible to be otherwise than in 
 good humour to sec numerous and active troops of 
 young females, trudging along the road each with a 
 mass-book in her hand ; their healthy florid counte- 
 nances shaded with large straw cottage bonnets, and 
 their . necks and ears decorated with (Pargenterie de 
 famille) huge old-fashioned drops and chains of silver 
 gilt. Menj women, and children, were bending their 
 steps towards one common object. All are strict Ca- 
 tholics here : and not a village did we pass through on 
 this holy day, during the time of divine service, but 
 we found their respective churches crowded to the very 
 doors. We noticed, en passaht, the little chapels 
 erected in the fields, where the custom, more ancient 
 than Christianity itself, of inVoktng the blessing of 
 Heavfcii ort the corn, at sowing time, is performed with 
 the usual ceremonies of the Romish worship, by the 
 cultivators Of this fruitful soil, J ; * >V* ' 
 At Malines we quit the course of the Canal, which 
 
309 
 
 we had followed all the way from Brussels. And here 
 occasion may betaken to observe, that although we did 
 not actually travel by the canal boats of this country, 
 yet opportunities offered themselves, from time to time 
 in our progress, to ascertain by personal inspection, that 
 they constitute an excellent and pleasant mode of public 
 conveyance. These barges, which are towed by hordes, 
 and assisted when the wind favours by a sail, are all 
 commodiously, and some very superbly, fitted up ; 
 having generally an awning over tlje ruif or quarter* 
 deck, and below, three distinct apartments or cabins, 
 differently priced, for as many separate classes of pas* 
 sengers. As Ghent, Bruges, and Ostend did not come 
 within our destined route homewards, we could only 
 know, from hear sa?/ 9 of the good cheer ^ at a reasonable 
 rate , to be met wiih on board the very superior kind 
 of passage vessels on that line of inland navigation. 
 One fact related to us, in proof of the sumptuous stile 
 in which a dinner and other refreshments are served up 
 in the first cabin of a Flemish treckschuyt, would 
 prove conclusively recommendatory to some of our 
 countrymen. A John Bull of the true gourmand race, 
 spent a whole fortnight this summer in passing daily 
 from Ostend to Ghent, and from Ghent to Ostend, for 
 the sake of the eating and drinking part of the business. 
 Flanders was to him the finest country in the world, 
 simply because it afforded him, in these water expedi- 
 tions, the cheapest enjoyment of the best of living! 
 
 At each place where we stopped, the carriage was 
 driven in at the gateway of a spacious riding house, 
 beneath the lofty roof of which the business of taking 
 fresh relays is performed. This is a good precautioa 
 to protect the horses from the effects of bad weather* 
 
310 
 
 Not quite so much is to be said in praise of the Flemish 
 mode of shoeing these valuable animals. Whether 
 from fear or laziness, the farrier here will never hazard 
 the personal risk and exertion undertaken by an Eng* 
 lish operator, in simply lifting the foot into his lap. 
 The powers of mechanism must be summoned to his 
 aid : and accordingly, at the door of every blacksmith's 
 shop in the Low Countries, we see a huge frame of 
 timber, consisting of four upright poles, supporting 
 horizontal pieces: within this formidable machine the 
 poor steed is ungenerously bound, fore and aft, so fast 
 as to be unable to stir in any direction ; his foot is then 
 elevated and fastened tight with ropes to a moveable 
 bar, and the whole function of the shoer appears in 
 general to be conducted on that principle of disregard 
 to the sensitive faculties of the brute creation, which a 
 full conviction of non-resistance from the suffering 
 party is but too apt to encourage in the breast of 
 tyrant man. 
 
 In travelling from Brussels to Antwerp, one traces at 
 almost every step, and with an interesting degree of 
 perspicuity, the peculiar scenery of that country, and 
 much even of the manners of that age, whence the great 
 masters of the Flemish school of painting, faithful to 
 nature, studious of mankind, drew their knowledge of 
 those pictorial "treasures which their talents have so 
 magically imparted to the canvas. In the bosom of 
 this smiling land, with its mansions of antique form, 
 gable fronted, and turret crowned — its moated gardens 
 and orchards laid out in many " a pleach'd alley" — its 
 village spires peering over high green hedges or still 
 loftier groves ; — in all this we recognize the passages of 
 Tenters, Woverman, and Brueghel • whilst the physiog- 
 
311 
 
 noraies and costume of its inhabitants as forcibly remind 
 us of the faces and groups of Rubens and Van Voss, of 
 Jordaens and Vandyck. To judge, indeed, from general 
 appearances, it deserves the appellation of u a happy 
 country." Rich in those national resources which arc 
 mainly owing to the long continued exertion of great 
 agricultural skill and industry, it still affords, in spite of 
 war, revolution, and commercial fluctuation, the com- 
 fortable means of subsistence and support to a popula- 
 tion of considerably greater density than our own. But 
 not even from the fertile plains and dewy meads of 
 Flanders are the miseries of penury and want excluded t 
 abundant were the indications proving to us, not only 
 in the cities but in the rural districts of the Nether- 
 lands, that there, as with the rest of society at large, 
 riches are the portion of few ; ease and competency but 
 comparatively partial blessings ; toil and poverty the lot 
 of the many ! 
 
 The approach to Antwerp bespeaks the stately city 
 which it still remains. At a mile distant the perspective 
 of the buildings and ramparts is superb. The " cloud- 
 capt tower" of the Great Church, elevating its pyramid 
 high above all the other lofty edifices of the town, 
 (and visible to us soon after quitting Malines ) now 
 appears to the greatest advantage, and presents a most 
 elegant and majestic object. Impatient to behold more 
 closely this celebrated Cathedral, and to feast our eyes 
 on its recently restored chefs d'ceiare of the pencil, 
 we lost no time, after our arrival, in visiting the noble 
 pile. In surveying Notre Dame, fas in accordance 
 with its dedication to the Virgin Mary it is called) 
 from the parvis or open space before its western entrance, 
 two circumstances unite to disappoint and mortify the 
 
312 
 
 amateur of ecclesiastical architecture. Tht first is, 
 that this stupendously-fine monument of the ancient 
 piety and prosperity of Antwerp should be so miserably 
 hemmed in, and even defaced, by paltry houses : t])e 
 other subject of surprise and regret is the absence in its 
 Construction of an uniform plan. The grand fagade 
 consists of two towers, divided from each other by 
 the width of the nave, and buift, in exact corres- 
 pondence, to the heigbth of the roof of the church. 
 At this point, the tower to the right hand of the spec- 
 tator suddenly stops short, and its unfinished coronet is 
 surmounted with sundry cupolas, resembling extin- 
 guishers of various dimensions : whilst that on the left 
 hand is carried on with a boldness truly Gothic, and 
 with a symmetry and ornamental purity that seems more 
 than Gothic, to the marvellous height of 451 French 
 feet, independent of the cross, which is 15 feet more ! 
 Considered by itself, indeed, this steeple is a prodigy 
 of art and beauty, and merits every eulogium that has 
 been paid to it, almost to the hj/perbole of the Emperor 
 Charles the Fifth, who, when he made his entry into 
 Antwerp, said " it ought to be put in a case, and shewn 
 only once in a year for a rarity Pf But whatever may 
 be the incongruities that offend the taste, or the obstruc- 
 tions that annoy the sight, in contemplating the outside 
 of this vast edifice, yet does the interior offer a chaste, 
 consistent, and dignified model of the pointed stile. 
 The loftiness of the roof, the length of the nave, and 
 the proportions of its columns, are in the happiest com- 
 bination of delicacy and grandeur. Its division also 
 into five aisles, gives this church an aspect of unusual 
 amplitude, and produces an enchanting effect of light 
 and shade, by the multiplied intersections of the cross- 
 
313 
 
 Vaulting. In its present restored state, it is not only 
 one of the finest Cathedrals I have seen on this side of 
 the water, but it is incomparably the cleanest. Stripped 
 of all the gold and silver plate, and many of the choicest 
 pieces of sculpture, during the revolutionary troubles, 
 its architecture has nevertheless profited rather than 
 suffered, from being thus disencumbered of a costly but 
 overcharged accumulation of side altars, paintings, and 
 images. If there be any thing at present exposed to 
 the criticism of the fastidious objector, it is, perhaps, 
 that owing to the destruction of all its fine-stained 
 windows, and the substitution of plain glass, the light 
 predominates too powerfully through the building. 
 
 The late Treaty of Peace, in giving this Cathedral 
 three pictures of Rubens, bestowed on it that precise 
 species of church ornament, of which the moderate and 
 judicious use, as being peculiarly excitive of religious 
 feeling, has always, to my protestant-episcopal appre- 
 hensions at least, appeared both legitimate and proper, 
 in a Christian temple. " The Assumption of the Virgin 1 * 
 is again in its old situation, as the picture of the High 
 Altar. Against the wept wall of the south transept is 
 seen that renowned and superlative production u The 
 Descent from the Cross," which also originally belonged 
 to this church. And, on the west wall of the north 
 transept, we view the earlier but scarcely less to be ad- 
 mired effort of transcendant ability, " The Elevation 
 on the Cross," which formerly stood over the High 
 Altar of Saint Walburgh's church, suppressed at the 
 Revolution. Situated at a considerable height from the 
 ground, and placed in excellent lights, this invaluable 
 trio, thus appropriately assembled together, instanta- 
 neously attract, and absolutely met the attention.— 
 
 S * 
 
314 
 
 Well remembering these grand subjects, when in the 
 Louvre at Paris, enveloped amidst a crowd of others, 
 and obtruded (as it were) upon the sight by the circum- 
 scribed elevation and width of the gallery, with what 
 superior interest and delight did I now behold them in 
 these their native seats, shining with resplendent lustre 
 from that commanding position and with that solemnity 
 of circumstance which alone are suited to the effect of 
 distance and the sublimity of design, at once contem- 
 plated and accomplished by the mind and hand of the 
 Master ! Only a week previous to our arrival they 
 were removed from their temporary repository in the 
 museum of this city, and with priestly pomp and civic 
 festivity, raised to the situation in which we now 
 see them. 
 
 The pride and satisfaction which the public of An- 
 twerp take in their newly recovered property, we had 
 an opportunity of witnessing, in our attendance at 
 divine service, at this Cathedral, in honour of Saint 
 Anthony's day* On this occasion the office of High 
 Mass took place, about six o'clock in the afternoon, at 
 the Altar of the Holy Sacrament ; during which cere- 
 mony an Oratorio was performed from the organ loft. 
 The spacious unincumbered area of the church, filled 
 with people of both sexes, and of all ranks, in various 
 attitudes of humble supplication before " the Author 
 and Giver of all Good Things," presented a scene 
 which was imposing — which was edifying — for it was 
 strongly marked by those unequivocal signs of serious- 
 ness and devotion that never fail to inspire sympathy 
 and to claim respect, under all differences of country, 
 customs, and opinions. The choral melody of the 
 singers^ and the flow of instrumental music, pealing 
 
315 
 
 the sacred anthem's harmonious swell through the lofty 
 long drawn aisles, operating in conjoined potency with 
 the awful dignity of the surrounding scene, irresistibly 
 raise the soul to a frame of thought and sensation the 
 most susceptible of impression from objects immediately 
 connected with and illustrative of religious history. 
 It was at that moment., and under such circumstances, 
 that I found myself placed before the picture of 
 u Christ taken down from the Cross :" it was at that 
 moment that, no longer dwelling on its pictorial beau- 
 ties and excellencies, I forgot awhile the sentiment of 
 homage and admiration ever due to the conceptions 
 a nd skill of a Rubens, and became wholly absorbed in 
 the infinitely higher considerations dictated to the heart 
 by the sublimity and divine pathos of the subject itself. 
 In a word, I was penetrated with unaffected and in- 
 voluntary emotions of veneration and love, identifying 
 themselves, as they did, equally with the affliction and 
 with the triumph of the Great Sacrifice, of which 
 the cruel offering is there represented in so august and 
 wonderful a manner ! 
 
 From the Cathedral, we proceeded to what goes by 
 the name of the u City Museum," to see the rest of the 
 pictures recovered from the hands of the French. They 
 are exposed in a large hall of one of the suppressed 
 Monasteries, and may with strict propriety be called the 
 Gallery of Rubens, for they consist chiefly of his works, 
 and those too which stand among the greatest, in the 
 opinion of judges : such for example as "Christ on the 
 Cross between the Thieves," formerly belonging to the 
 Church of the Recollets ; u The Adoration of the Magi,'* 
 which before the Revolution adorned the high-altar of 
 the Abbey Church of St. Michael; " The Communiom 
 
 S 6 2 
 
316 
 
 of St. Francis ;V iC Christ descended from the Cross ;" 
 « The Scourging ;" 44 The Adoration of the Shepherds," 
 preparing to resume its place in the Church of the Do- 
 minicans ; and the delightful little picture, painted by 
 Rubens from his " Descent from the Cross," (on wood, 
 4 feet 4 by 3 feet 3) for the ci-devani church of the 
 Recollets. Of Vandyck — illustrious disciple of an 
 illustrious preceptor — less than Kubens and greater — 
 inferior to him in the varied talents of design ; superior 
 in the refined touch of the classic colourist — there we re 
 some of the most energetic and expressive performances, 
 viz. among others, 44 Christ dead on the knees of the 
 Virgin/' and 44 The carrying of the Cross." There is 
 a good portrait or two by Corneille Devos. We found 
 here also the picture of 44 The Fall of the Rebel Angels," 
 by Francois de Vriendt^ commonly called Franc Floris. 
 Upon the thigh of one of the Angels a large fly or bee 
 is painted : and the story of it is, that Quintin Malsys^ 
 (whose monument and ornamental pump we were shewn 
 near the Cathedral) being a blacksmith by profession, 
 became a painter for love, and added this curious spe- 
 cimen of his newly acquired art to the production of 
 llis mistress's father, Floris, who was so much asto- 
 nished and delighted when he next looked at his 
 picture, that, no longer refusing, he gave Matsys his 
 daughter! Thus 44 conjugal love of a blacksmith made 
 an Apellcs." 
 
 The chief of these truly precious articles being but 
 newly arrived, stand on the floor, against the wall, 
 without frames. The calculations of distance and the 
 effect of atmospheric intervention, which the old painters 
 so ably studied, are consequently defeated and de- 
 stroyed by their approximation to the eye. Their 
 present asylum, however, is it seems only provisional r 
 
317 
 
 the church pictures will soon be placed in situation* 
 more accordant with their dimensions, colouring, and 
 subjects. And to the credit of the Antwerp Commis- 
 sioners, be it recorded, that they have brought their 
 treasures home from Paris without the smallest damage 
 being sustai ied in the journey. The Academy of Paint- 
 ing and Architecture, in the same ci-dcvant monastery, 
 contains some good modern productions, a numerous 
 collection of casts from the antique, and of models of 
 the principal buildings of Greece and Rome. 
 
 In continuation of our walk, and in coincidence with 
 the subject of the fine arts, we next visited the church 
 of St. James, which has been spared the outrages in- 
 flicted on the Cathedral and the other grand ecclesi- 
 astical establishments : some of the latter are in complete 
 ruin. The edifice in question contains a rich entertain- 
 ment for the lovers of fine carving and statuary; it 
 abounds with chapels of marble, and is decorated with 
 the most magnificent altars and tombs : but the shrine 
 for our pilgrimage, the relic for our most interesting 
 contemplation, was the Mausoleum of Rubens. One 
 chapel is wholly devoted to this honourable appropria- 
 tion. The altar-piece, painted by his own hand, is an 
 allegorical picture, in which are introduced the por- 
 traits of himself and his two wives (Elizabeth Brandts, 
 and Helen Forman). A Latta epitaph, inscribed on a 
 slab of black marble, designates the place of interment 
 cf this truly great man. Yet even the sanctity of a 
 spot thus consecrated to Taste, Worth, and Genius, 
 was violated by the revolutionary plunderers of Europe, 
 in 1792. The painting over the altar just described 
 was carried off with the rest to the u Capital of the 
 Universe :" but Napoleon afterwards restored it, " in 
 4>rder (as we are told) that the people of Antwerp might 
 
318 
 
 preserve the remembrance of one of the most illustrious 
 of their fellow citizens." Why, this, to be sure, was 
 liberal, kind, and generous ! most nobly liberal ; most 
 paternally kind ; most magnanimously generous ! To 
 give back, to the Antwerpians one solitary picture, and 
 one of the least excellent, out of twenty, taken from 
 them by the fraternal 'band to whom, in a moment of 
 discontent and delusion, they opened wide their gates — 
 This was 5 indeed, well and consistently done of that 
 same Buonaparte, who fought battles in Italy, to give 
 what he called Liberty to a people without patriotism 
 and without nationality ! who made treaties too in 
 Italy, to take away the Arts from a people who under- 
 stood and valued nothing else ! What a tribute was this 
 of respect to the memory of such a man, and of conside- 
 ration for those bonds of attachment which endeared it 
 to a city, where (before its churches and monasteries 
 fell a prey to French robbers and incendiaries) the 
 stranger seeking the tomb of Rubens might, in the 
 words of our Wren's emphatic epitaph, be told — 
 " Viator, si monumentum queen's — circumspice /'* 
 In the evening we walked to the village of Burchem, 
 about a mile from the city, on the Malines road, a 
 favourite promenade at this season of the year. But we 
 found in the Caff 6 and gardens of Robert a very poor 
 succedaneum for those of Paris. The agremens of 
 such places of public resort appear, indeed, to dete- 
 riorate in the ratio of our increasing distance from the 
 capital of France. The suburbs of Antwerp on this 
 side are in ruins — a legacy left to hi& good friends 
 by Governor Carnot, who caused the houses to be de- 
 stroyed, according to the usual measures of precaution, 
 when threatened with a siege by General Graham's 
 army, in 1814. 
 
319 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 Antwerp.— The Basin mid Port — Impunity to Gallic out" 
 rages — Prospect from the Tower of the Cathedral — The 
 fValcheren Expedition— ^Architectural, popular, and re- 
 ligious features of the place — Remarks on its ancient 
 importance and present insignificance as a Commercial 
 City — Journey to Breda and Rotterdam, 
 
 June 14th and 15th. 
 
 TlIIS morning we renewed our visit to the Basin and 
 Port, not satisfied with a cursory view taken the pre- 
 ceding day. In our way thither we stopped to admire 
 the grand marble front of the Hotel de Ville ; and also 
 the magnificent quadrangle of the Bourse, on the model 
 of which latter monument of the commerce of Antwerp, 
 our London Royal Exchange was built. The Scheldt 
 here is little inferior either in depth or breadth to the 
 Thames at London : vessels of the greatest burthen can 
 come up this river at flood tide, and discharge their 
 cargoes at the quays. We recognised (by the British 
 Union flying at their mast head) several of our country- 
 men among the shipping ; which, however, were not 
 very numerous, nor was there much stir of business. 
 The new Basin, constructed under the orders of Buona- 
 parte to contain his men of war, is a fine work, but not 
 equal to the London Docks in point of commodiousness 
 and extent. Near this grand excavation is situated the 
 recently-erected naval arsenal ; consisting of store-houses, 
 founderics 3 timber wharfs, ship yards, and rope walks. 
 
320 
 
 But as the Basin Napoleon is cleared of its ships of war* 
 so are these depots completely stripped of their once for- 
 midable apparatus, accumulated with such prodigious 
 labour and such immense cost, for the annoyance of 
 our country. For this piece of service the Antwerp 
 folks are not very generally inclined to thank us. These 
 establishments* though created for purposes hostile to 
 the security of England, and intended to rivet more 
 closely the fetters in which the continent was then 
 bound fast to the military column of French power, 
 served the immediate object of employing a large por- 
 tion of the population of this town : hence Napoleon is 
 regarded by them in the light of a benefactor. It is 
 only in this way that one is able to account for the evi- 
 dent political bias of the inhabitants of Antwerp; to one 
 generation of whom, it seems, the French were welcome 
 to do what harm they pleased, taking care to provide 
 employment, (no matter how mischievous to the cause 
 of peace and freedom) for the generation that succeeded 
 it. Churches may be robbed or destroyed — Treasuries 
 plundered— Monasteries sold and pulled down — public 
 Monuments defaced or removed : all this havoc may be 
 done without its authors being thought a jot the worse 
 of, by the present inhabitants of a place which has been 
 the victim and scene of such extortions and outrages. 
 Vive Vaudacitt ! Vive la sceleratesse ! Who that desire, 
 on the grand scale, to practise villainy without punish- 
 ment or reproach, would not chuse to be Frenchmen t 
 But, in the sober sadness of plain truth, this is Human 
 Nature, identified by its inherent and inalienable quality, 
 by its predominating and unchangeable feature — Self 
 Interest— the primum mobile of the aiFairs of this world* 
 
321 
 
 both in the little and in the gross. Disguise it how we 
 will — of the selfish passion 
 
 " Tbo* patriots flatter, yet shall wisdom find, 
 u An equal portion dealt to ail mankind." 
 
 Nor am I inclined to believe that things would go on a 
 jot the worse, were the rulers of this same world of ours 
 to keep the principle steadily and practically in view ; 
 and enforce, by every fair means of precept and ex- 
 ample, those motives of union in which a man's in* 
 ter est is made accordant with his duty to his God 
 and to his Neighbour ! 
 
 After making the circuit of the old Docks and Canals 
 which surround the once flourishing House of the Hanse 
 Towns, a prodigious building called the Osterlings y 
 but long since disused as the great magazine of mer- 
 chandise, we returned to the central parts of the city. 
 The streets are in general spacious and straight : the 
 houses, of stone, have an appearance of magnificent 
 antiquity, and many of them display great excellence 
 and richness of architecture. The Meer street is one of 
 the broadest and finest avenues I ever saw. It was the 
 time of the fair, held every year in what is called the 
 Kirsche Hoff, or Cathedral Close: the arrangement of 
 the booths and the variety of the goods reminded me a 
 good deal of Bury St. Edmund's, but without its mounte- 
 banks and horse-riders. We had likewise an opportu- 
 nity of seeing what is termed (from the day) the Friday's 
 Market, at which all sorts of articles are sold by 
 auction. 
 
 The public fountains, and almost every corner of a 
 street at Antwerp, are ornamented with an image of the 
 Saviour, the Virgin Mary, or some Saint. On St. 
 John's Bridge, over one of the canals, is a curious relic 
 
 Tt 
 
322 
 
 of this kind : it consists of a sculptural group, in stone ; 
 of the natural size, representing Christ on the Cross ; 
 the Blessed Virgin and St. John standing at the foot of 
 it. The blood (an nnUquified stream) flowing from the 
 •wound in the Redeemer's side, is caught in a chalice 
 held for that purpose by an angel. We proceeded to 
 the Church of the Grands Jesuits, the western portal of 
 which exhibits a fine elevation of the three simple 
 Grecian orders : it is also remarkable for the height 
 and beauty of its tower, and its interior architecture 
 displays all the superior richness and taste for which 
 the buildings of that society are in an eminent degree 
 distinguished. The other churches which we visited 
 were that of Saint Andree, and those of the ci-devant 
 convents of the August ins and the Dominicains ; all of 
 them noble buildings, which have seen their best 
 days — the days of monastic influence — days of error, 
 for whose return the enlightened soul can never pant ; 
 yet were they more congenial to nature and humanity 
 than the days of false liberty, equality, and regenera- 
 tion, when nuns and friars were ejected and persecuted, 
 for no worthier purpose than that the Temples of the 
 Lord might be spoiled, profaned, and destroyed. 
 
 James Jordaens* masterly picture of the Martyrdom 
 of Saint Appolinia, one of those brought back from 
 Paris, is already placed in its old situation, over the 
 altar of that Saint, in the church of the Augustins, and 
 has a grand and appropriate effect. The Mont Calvaire 
 of the Dominicans still exists in the cloister of that 
 suppressed religious establishment : it is intended to 
 represent the Mount Calvary and Holy Sepulchre of 
 Jerusalem, and is surmounted by the Crucifix, in sta- 
 tuary. Below, within a sort of grotto of artificial rock^ 
 
323 
 
 is " the Tomb of Christ/' before whose recumbent 
 effigy, size of life, tapers are kept burning. On enter- 
 ing the place, to examine more closely this once greatly 
 frequented object of Catholic pilgrimage, my curiosity 
 received a check of which I obeyed the impulse, and 
 am not at this moment ashamed of acknowledging lis 
 force. At the further extremity of the shrine I beheld 
 a female in the act of adoration : she did not observe my 
 approach — in fact she seemed to see and to hear no one; 
 kneeling opposite to the feet of the figure — her arms 
 extended upwards — her head bowed towards the ground 
 — the lamps of the tomb shone on her lips, but they 
 were motionless, like the rest of her person. A thought 
 of u the Women at the Sepulchre" flashed across my 
 my mind : I remembered too the words of the Incarnate 
 Deity, addressed to a believer of that sex, " great is thy 
 faith." I instantly retired, (with steps that might oc- 
 casion the least possible interruption to the meditations 
 <>>f the devotee), disposed to regard with sentiments at 
 least of indulgent if not of approving consideration, the 
 scene of rites, superstitious, indeed, but inoffensive — the 
 symbols of a worship in its origin pure and exalted, 
 though time and human infirmity hare reduced it to 
 corruption and debasement. 
 
 The character of the people of Antwerp appears to 
 be of a much more serious turn than that of the inhabi- 
 tants of Brussels : there is, indeed, alt the outward dif- 
 ference between the two that exists between a Flemish 
 and a French town. In religious matters they certainly 
 evince more apparent piety than we have hitherto 
 observed on our journey. The churches are equally 
 well attended by persons of both sexes and all ages : 
 young women and young men (not excepting the mili- 
 
 Tt3 
 
324 
 
 tar j/) are there to be seen in all parts of the sacred 
 structure, kneeling and repealing the service at the 
 different altars, with great sedateness and attention. 
 The effect of congregations employed in this independent 
 mode of worship (it I may be allowed such an expres- 
 sion) is strikingly contrasted with the concentrated 
 assemblage and simultaneous action to which we are 
 accustomed in England. The faille^ as part of the 
 female costume, is appropriately worn in the churches, 
 u In my mind's eye" niethinks I now see a young 
 person, whose appearance and manner attracted my 
 notice in walking round the church of Saint Andree. 
 She was kneeling unostentatiously at the base of a 
 pillar, "afar off," but opposite the chapel in whose 
 office she was joining. The black silk veil of the 
 country, thrown somewhat back from her head, fell in 
 ample folds down her shoulders, but left the front dress 
 and the face exposed to view : the arms crossed at the 
 breast, and the regards fixedly cast down, completed 
 the true constituents of the devotional attitude. It was 
 an attitude for Rubens or Vandyck to have studied and 
 to have realized in the portraiture of a Magdalen— it 
 was a countenance which the M divine Raphael" him- 
 self might have deemed not unworthy to select for a 
 Maria gratice plena ; the complexion was so fair, so 
 transparent— the braid of the hair so chaste, so Ma- 
 donna like — the lineaments so soft — the expression of 
 the whole face so pure, so heavenly sweet, so full of 
 mildness and humdity. It was indeed a lovely and 
 amiable image of the religious sensibility of Woman, 
 
 The High Mass is a ceremony which seems to lose 
 dignity from being so greatly overloaded. There is in* 
 finitely more solemnity in the general prostration of the 
 
325 
 
 people at the elevation of the Ho«t, than in the perpe- 
 tual genuflexions and changes of attitude and dress used 
 by the Priest. The service both of the choir and altar 
 in Romish churches, derives much of its impressive 
 effect from the venerable habiliments of the Canons, 
 and the number of the officiating clergy. The modern 
 ornament of hair-powder, however, but ill assimilates 
 with the grave and antique character of the sacerdotal 
 dress. There is one point of their interior economy in 
 ■which the churches of Roman Catholic countries ap- 
 pear to me to be regulated on a principle more con- 
 genial to the true spirit of Christianity than those of the 
 Establishment in England. There are no pews, in the 
 arrangement of which, with us, so much attention is paid 
 to worldly distinctions, and so little bestowed on the indi- 
 gent class of God's worshippers. Here the poor are 
 placed, in point of local advantage, on a level with the 
 rich, and each exhibits that equably of humbleness be- 
 coming all creatures, without exception, in t he more im- 
 mediate presence of their Creator. It must, however, be 
 acknowledged, that the custom of letting out chairs, dur- 
 ing divine service, is not always free from inconvenience. 
 When the congregation becomes large, this useful occu- 
 pation is abused with occasional violations of strict de- 
 corum, being attended with noise, and the tinkling of 
 the hiring money is sometimes heard, to the disturbance 
 of the attentive churchman. 1 have already had occasion 
 to advert to the ludicrous finery of paint, silk, and tinsel 
 employed in dressing vp the images of the Virgin Mary 
 and Infant Jesus by the bons Catholiquts of the Nether- 
 lands : another practice came under the astonished 
 glance of our Protestant eyes, which put our religious 
 toleration and universal charity still more to the test. 
 
326 
 
 When a person has a wounded leg, a sore arm, or any 
 other chronic disorder, a small waxen resemblance of 
 the diseased limb is fashioned, and hung up in the 
 church, for the healing intercession of the Saint to 
 whom it is dedicated. We saw, in one place, half a 
 score of these sympathetic members dangling together. 
 This is, indeed, superstition — not less offensive to human 
 reason, than injurious to great cause and salutary end 
 af Divine Revelation. 
 
 Taking a farewell look of the beautiful interior of 
 the Cathedral, and of Rubens' incomparable pictures, 
 we next mounted the tower, by a stone staircase of 620 
 steps, to the uppermost gallery, whence the panoramic 
 view of the city and surrounding country, for 30 miles, 
 is such as more than compensates the labour of the 
 ascent. In this tower there are 48 bells of various 
 sizes and for various purposes; the largest weighs 
 16,000 lbs. and requires sixteen men to ring it ; the 
 second, of 10,000 lbs. is rung by ten men. The old 
 machinery, I conceive, must be very defective to render 
 so considerable an effort of conjoined personal strength 
 necessary to put it in motion properly. The carillons, 
 or chimes, are played by hand, with keys like an organ, 
 a strong exertion of manual dexterity ; but the per- 
 former displays great musical skill, and the effect pro- 
 duced is of a very superior kind to any thing I have 
 heard in England. Nothing can be richer or more de- 
 lightful than the prospect from this lofty situation to the 
 west and south, embracing the country of Waes as far 
 as Ghent, and Brabant Proper as far as Brussels. The 
 view to the north and north-east extends over a prodi- 
 gious and seemingly interminable level of marshes, 
 through which the Scheldt impels its broad current to 
 
327 
 
 the German Ocean. Forts St. Philippe, Lillo, and 
 Liefkenshock are plainly pointed out to us from the top 
 of this steeple ; and in the extreme distance, by the aid 
 of a glass, we descry the spire of Middelbourg — all 
 objects whose names remind us (rather too forcibly, as 
 Englishmen ) of that gallantly appointed, but miserably 
 conducted and ill-fated armament — the Walcheren Ex- 
 pedition. 
 
 A townsman, wilh whom I conversed on the subject, 
 said the capture of Antwerp on that occasion, by the 
 English army and fleet, was calculated upon as an in- 
 evitable event by the inhabitants themselves. He de- 
 scribed the city, on the arrival of the first intelligence 
 of the disembarkation of our forces at Walcheren, to 
 have been so totally destitute of the means of defence 
 as hardly to be out of reach of a coup de main. The 
 country people were ripe for insurrection, and the alarm 
 and confusion spread among the French by our first suc- 
 cesses were beyond measure great. The entry of the 
 British line of battle ships into the bay of the river in 
 front of Antwerp, must, (as beheld from the tower on 
 which we stood,) have been an indescribably majestic 
 and formidable spectacle. Even at the more advanced 
 period of the operations, when reinforcements had ar- 
 rived and the fortifications had been furnished with can- 
 non, the bombardment of the place was looked upon as 
 certain. Fortunately for the cause of the ambitious 
 Napoleon, at that moment engaged in distant conquests; 
 the brave, well-disciplined, and numerous hosts, whose 
 approach excited such lively apprehensions, were not 
 commanded by a Duke of Alva; nor did the arduous 
 charge of re-establishing the local strength and mili- 
 tary resources of Antwerp devolve^ at that critical junc* 
 
828 
 
 ture, as at i(s former memorable siege,* to tbc distracted 
 councils and niggardly management of avaricious Bur- 
 gomasters. The dilatory tactique of Lord Chatham, 
 proved every successive day, pregnant with well-im- 
 proved advantages to the able and active measures of 
 Marshal Bernadotle. Our wooden walls at length re- 
 tired without launching their dreaded thunder on the 
 foe, from the boldly but fruitlessly advanced position 
 they had taken. And our robust and intrepid soldiers, 
 who would cheerfully have encountered every labour, 
 and met every danger scornfully, to signalize themselves 
 by fresh triumphs over the enemies of their country, 
 exchanged the honourable perils of " the tented field," 
 to fall inglorious victims of malignant disease in the pes- 
 tilential climate of Zealand, and amidst the putrid 
 steams of half annihilated Flushing. 
 
 The new forts, redoubts, and other works raised by 
 Buonaparte, for the defence of the place after this event, 
 (which served him as a pretext for deposing his brother 
 Louis, and for uniting Holland and the Hanse Towns 
 to the " Grand Empire") though not finished on his ow n 
 comprehensive plan, have rendered Antwerp almost im- 
 pregnable both by land and water. The fortifications on 
 the land side present a triple row of ramparts and wet 
 ditches ; the innermost line of which consists of the old 
 wall of the city, and forms a noble promenade. The 
 citadel, which is very large, stands on the banks of the 
 Scheldt, at the extremity of the south-west quarter of the 
 town, which, as well as the surrounding country, it 
 completely commands, and it is esteemed one of the 
 strongest in Europe. 
 
 In passing the Gate of Saint Forts, facing the 
 
 * In 1585. 
 
329 
 
 Mechlin road, we were struck with the grand scale on 
 which it is erected ; and scanned with interest the 
 dedicatory initials of S. P. Q. A. conspicuously in- 
 scribed on the entablature-— Senatus, Populusque An- 
 twerpianus, with the date, (if I mistake not) of 
 1500. Here was Roman phraseology ! but where 
 was the Roman virtue to dignify and sustain it ? 
 Propd City ! when this portal first reared its massive 
 masonry above thy walls, thou wert the staple of our 
 English merchandise, and rivailedst, if not exceededst, 
 the wealth-creating traffic of London : thou wert then the 
 emporium of Europe; the museum of the Arts and 
 Sciences— the resort of merchants — the? paradise of 
 Priests— the envy of Princes. Thus didst thou flourish, 
 till riches s'led their corruptive influence over the hearts 
 of thy people ; and honour and the love of country sank 
 emerged in enervating luxury and the desire of gain. 
 Thy ramparts, undefended by patriotism, opposed but 
 a feeble barrier against persevering assailants, who knew 
 the power of gold as well as of the sword — 
 
 " While, more unsteady than the southern gale, 
 " Commerce on o'her shores displayed her sail j 
 " And late the city found with fruitless skill, 
 " 1 1 s former strength was but plethoric ilV* 
 
 Yes, Antwerp is now a body without a soul — a city 
 of Palaces, inhabited by bankers, brokers, and tapestry 
 weavers; but still the quiet of its deserted grandeur 
 commands respect, and its buildings of every kind 
 stand as so many venerable and stately monuments of 
 former prosperity, splendour, and greatness. It is im- 
 possible, indeed, to contemplate the architectural cha- 
 racter and local advantages of Antwerp without feeling 
 Surprise that the Court of the Low Countries should 
 
 U u 
 
330 
 
 Hot have been fixed there. It is true that, when we 
 advert to the pages of History, the causes are develloped 
 to us, which have for more than two centuries doomed 
 to decay and comparative insignificance a city worthy 
 to be the seat of regal pomp, and the capital of a great 
 mercantile country. Too long has Antwerp been sacri- 
 ficed to the sordid and ungrateful spirit of Dutch 
 monopoly. But surely the period is now arrived wliea 
 she may claim and be allowed her just rank in the scale 
 of commercial towns. Perhaps nothing would con- 
 tribute more to the popularity of the new King, among 
 his Flemish subjects, than her receiving, at his hands, 
 those restored privileges of navigation and of trade of 
 which she was deprived to enrich Amsterdam. This 
 would be an advantage of incomparably greater value 
 than any that have accrued to her, as the depot of Buo- 
 naparte's marine, condemned as the fleets of France 
 have been to a paralysing inaction by the naval ascend- 
 ancy of Great Britain. It would not, indeed, be the 
 means of lifting her up again suddenly to prosperity 
 and power — " prosperity that puffeth up, and power 
 that provoketh destruction but it would enable her 
 to reap the benefits that gradually yet surely flow from 
 the united efforts of individual industry, exerted during a 
 period of general order and tranquility, if fostered under 
 the encouraging protection of wise and equal laws, ad- 
 ministered by a paternal and enlightened Government. 
 
 The name of our Inn was " La Cour de Brabant" 
 where we were accommodated with two very good-sized 
 neat and handsomely furnished lodging rooms. The 
 charges were on a somewhat higher scale than at our 
 Hotel at Brussels, but far from exorbitant, and upon 
 the whole we had no reason to complain of our enter* 
 taiument. 
 
331 
 
 In the afternoon we proceeded on our journey to 
 Rotterdam, and passed the night at Breda. We rumbled 
 along, through the gates and winding bridges of the 
 fortifications of Antwerp, in company with a troop of 
 peasants, returning homewards from market, driving 
 their cargoes of unsold commodities in little carts 
 drawn by oxen. The use of oxen prevails here and in 
 Dutch Brabant for many purposes for which we employ 
 horses. 
 
 The first fifteen miles of our journey from Antwerp 
 lay through a barren moor. The Diligence travelled 
 slowly, as if in good-natured consideration to the inten- 
 sity of interest with which we surveyed the surrounding 
 void; and to increase our comforts, the driver was 
 ^ ever a«d anon" stopping at the road houses for the 
 regale of a glass of schnapps, ( Anglice Brandy). From 
 Hage, the soil becomes more fertile, the prospect 
 improves, and the inhabitants display their indus- 
 trious pursuits, and good domestic management, ia 
 pretty looking houses, plentifully stocked gardens, 
 sprucely clipped hedges, and well-cultivated fields. 
 If the environs of Breda are so pleasant, the town itself 
 is not less handsome : its Cathedral is a very fine 
 edifice, with a tower above 300 feet high the coro- 
 nated lantern of which is remarkably beautiful and light 
 in its construction. Breda is a very strong fortress ; its 
 ramparts, which are faced with stone, are properly fur- 
 nished with artillery., and the ditch, or rather river, which 
 surrounds the whole is of extraordinary width and 
 depth of water. At the Hotel de Flandres, where we 
 slept, the supper consisted of fish of four sorts, excel- 
 lently cooked, and as many dishes of meat and poultry, 
 besides vegetables, for which we had to pay a very 
 
 U u2 
 
332 
 
 reasonable price. A t table we settled our plan of opera* 
 tions for the next day. The co.ich party consisted, 
 besides ourselves, of a Ghent merchant, and an old 
 Dutch master-njariner, of 80 years of age* who had 
 married three times: by the first wife he had a son, who 
 was 56, and by the last wife, who was living, hi* 
 " frosty but kindly" old age had recently been blessed 
 with a?iother child. It was agreed to take a post* 
 waggon; and the Flemish gentleman civilly undertook 
 the arrangement of the journey. Nothing can be more 
 cleanly than the domestic habits of the people we are 
 now come among. The only material thing to dread 
 or complain of is their oyer fond.iess for washing and 
 scrubbing, and the humidity of their climate, which is 
 unfavourable for drying the linen and the floors they 
 take so much pains with. To these causes we attributed 
 the damp sheets which were laid for us, but between 
 which we were too much on our guard to trust ourselves. 
 It was the first instance of the kind we had met with 
 in our progress. 
 
 The follow ing morning, at half-past six, according 
 to appointment with our travelling friends, we were 
 jogging onwards in a post coach from Breda, through 
 a tract of country very much resembling our Halver- 
 gate marshes. At Lage Swalnewe (or some such bar- 
 barously named village), we took a sailing boat across 
 the Zuid Hollandsche Waard, or Biesboch 9 a very ex- 
 tensive piece of water, formed by the dreadful and de- 
 structive inundation of 142 J , when by the irruption of 
 the sea, 72 villages were deluged, and 100,000 persons 
 drowned. Before this dreadful catastrophe, the island 
 on which Dordrecht stands was united to the terra 
 Jirma of Dutch Brabant. The scenery beheld in cross- 
 
333 
 
 ing this lake, which is between 12 and 15 square 
 leagues in extent, presents a watery " waste expanding 
 to the skies," broken here and there by masses of 
 reeds, a distant spire, a sail, a few trees, or as we ap- 
 proach the shores, long lines of green fencing, behind 
 which peeps the roof of a farm-house, reminding us 
 of the objects that form constituents in the pictures of 
 the Dutch landscape painters. About an hour's sail 
 brought us to the island of Nieulant, and thus we 
 made our entree into Holland, properly so called. The 
 journey from the water side to Dort was along the top 
 of a high dike, on one of the most intolerably bad 
 roads that could possibly be travelled. The country, 
 though far from agreeable to the eye, exhibits in many 
 parts the successful result of agricultural toil, and 
 abounds with rich meadows and fine catile. The out- 
 side of the cottages and their appurtenances have a 
 neat and comfortable look with them, which accords 
 with our pre-conceived ideas of Dutch economy. — 
 The inns on the road are homely in appearance ; but 
 they offer, in their interior, &n old-fashioned picture of 
 things, faithfully true to the scriptural injunction, 
 a Set thy house in order " The floors bear testimony 
 to the daily labours of washing and sweeping bestowed 
 upon them. The furniture and culinary utensils in 
 high polish : the brass pans and pewter dishes placed 
 in brilliant array on shelves around the room. The 
 lofty projection of the chimney pieces, adorned with 
 -needle-work curtains, (the pomp of the housewife, and 
 the pride of the sempstress) serves the more readily to 
 attract our regards to the splendor of the fire-place, 
 where the whole Bible History is illustrated on the 
 painted and glazed tiles, to the manufactory of which the 
 
334 
 
 country gives its own distinctive appellation. The beds 
 are placed within the wainscoting of the walls, and a 
 curtain is drawn before them. With this concealment 
 only, almost every apartment of the inn has its noc- 
 turnal appropriation to the purposes of sleep and rest, 
 We see even 
 
 The kitchen doom'd a double debt to pay : 
 ie Bed-room by night, a kitchen all the day !" 
 
 The travelling conveyances are, in these parts, very 
 indifferent : an inside passenger in a Dutch waggon 
 finds but an incomplete shelter from bad weather, be- 
 hind its leathern blinds. The horses too are much de- 
 teriorated since we quitted Flanders, being for the most 
 part poor little miserably lean hacks ; although on these 
 accounts, perhaps, better suited than more pampered 
 and high-spirited animals, to the frequent trajets or 
 ferries they are obliged to pass, the apparatus for 
 crossing which has a terrifying aspect to animals unac* 
 customed to it. These ferry boats have masts, sails, 
 oars, and moveable rudders, and will conveniently hold 
 two carriages, with the horses harnessed in them, with- 
 out the necessity of the passengers alighting. This was 
 the case at Dort, through the streets of which we passed 
 immediately into the ferry vessel on the Maese. In 
 crossing this noble river, we had a pleasing specimen 
 of the Dutch pat/sage^ wherein land and water, houses 
 and ships, present themselves in such a questionable 
 shape of amalgamation, that one hardly knows at the 
 first glance, on which element these are standing or 
 those are gliding. Dort y which is a very fine old town, has 
 also an appearance of opulence and commercial bustle. 
 It has a handsome church, whose lofty steeple, with 
 others that elevate themselves in the horizon, forms 
 the only interruption to the uniform level of the prospect. 
 
335 
 
 From Oudclant, a village on the opposite bank of the 
 Maese, we proceed to Ysselmonde through a country 
 in which the views are interestingly curious, inasmuch 
 as they display the wonderful labours of the Hol- 
 landers, in rendering it not only habitable, but extremely 
 productive, in spite of the threatening attitude of 66 many 
 waters." The road runs all the way on a prodigious 
 mound, like Peterborough bank, overtopping the chim- 
 nies of the houses that line each side of it — and of which 
 the cottage class as well as the superior sort, are strik- 
 ingly neat. Besides a succession of very luxuriant 
 pastures, w e noticed a considerable portion of the lands 
 covered with fine crops of corn and flax. At Ysselmonde 
 we again embarked to cross another branch of the 
 Maese ; and on quitting the ferry boat, for the third 
 and last time in this amphibious journey, we found 
 ourselves on the high road to Rotterdam , at which 
 place, about four o'clock in the afternoon, we alighted 
 at the Hotel d^Angleterre^ alias the Swine's Iloofd 
 (Boar's Head), in the Grande Place ; and bade adieu 
 to our Ghent acquaintance, to whose very great civility 
 in transacting for us the whole business of arrangement 
 and expedition, on a journey wherein we stood so much 
 in need of an interpreter, we were indebted most mate- 
 rially in point both of economy and comfort. These 
 fortunate rencontres are often prepared for the traveller 
 on his way (and the same remark holds good in appli- 
 cation to the moral pilgrimage of life), when he most 
 needs, yet least expects the door of hospitality to be 
 opened, and the hand of friendly service extended to him. 
 
336 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 Rotterdam.— Trade its presiding genius — Statue of Eras* 
 m us — The Great Church — ( alvinistic Worship — Excur~ 
 sion to Delft and the Hague — The Fishermen's Fair at 
 Flaarding — Notices of Dutch costume 9 manners-*, and 
 customs — Short stay in and sudden departure from 
 Holland — Conclusion of the Journal. 
 
 June 16th to 19th.- 
 
 ROTTERDAM is a very large and well-built city, 
 possessing all the grandeur and consequence that can 
 possibly result from an union of those objects, in the 
 contemplation of which we associate ideas of industry 
 and ingenuity, and of their offspring security and wealth. 
 When we survey its spacious quays, its numerous 
 streets, through which canals, flowing with the purify- 
 ing waters of the Maese, bring up the largest ships to 
 the very doors of the stately houses, it certainly appears 
 the most completely adapted for commercial purposes 
 of any place in the world. In roving about this extra- 
 ordinary " work of man's hands," raised in laborious 
 triumph o'er " the ocean's flood," if we are seldom or 
 never struck with examples of architectural elegance, 
 or of good taste in design and ornament, we cannot but 
 be both astonished and pleased at beholding the stu- 
 pendous masses of brick and stone laid on piles that 
 have converted the shaking quagmire into a foundation 
 as firm as adamant : while the powers of mechanism are 
 at every step seen in active play to open the sluice- 
 gate, to heave the levers of the drawbridge, or to lift 
 
837 
 
 (lie articles of merchandise from the vessel to the highest 
 story of thh magazine. The Boom Pis (or quay 
 eovered with treesj is by far the grandest part of Rot- 
 terdam. On this noble quay, washed by the river, 
 which here considerably exceeds the width of the 
 Thames at London Bridge, stands a most extensive 
 range of superb houses, inhabited by merchants, par- 
 ticularly the English. Between these buildings and 
 the river is a broad paved carriage way, and a double 
 row of lofty trees, forming a shady and agreeable pro- 
 menade. There is nothing particularly calculated to 
 interest the stranger in the outward structure of the 
 Stadt House, the Admiralty r , the East India House , or 
 the Exchange. 
 
 Of all the Sciences and Arts, the science of arith- 
 metical calculation, and the art of getting money, are 
 those in which a Dutchman is most proficient. Ergo! 
 Rotterdam is not Antwerp; it wears the genuine 
 air of business, but it has not a liberal or graceful 
 feature in its whole exterior. Can any thing learned 
 or enlightened come out of Rotterdam ? said I to my-- 
 self, as 1 marked the dull gravity of her main-chance* 
 loving sons, who were bustling rudely by me, through 
 the Grande Place. The Statue of Erasmus stared me 
 full in the face, and reproving my lorgetfulness and 
 petulance, answered the question proudly and decisively 
 in the affirmative ! The figure, which is colossal, is 
 well executed in bronze, and was erected in 1622, the 
 work of the statuary Keiser : it is dressed in a collegiate 
 robe, and with an open book in his hands. Just as I 
 was rendering an internal tribute of commendation to 
 the Rotterdamians, for their careful preservation of 
 this well-deserved honour to the memory of their native 
 
338 
 
 luminary of literary genius and philosophic knowledge, 
 the burgher guard (a species of military force like our 
 volunteers ) came parading with drums beating and 
 colours flying i when, lo! in the twinkling of an eye, 
 the pedestal and limbs of the sacred effigy were esca- 
 laded by a band of blackguard lads ; one perched on 
 his book, others surmounted his shoulders, and even 
 his venerable head suffered the degradation of forming 
 a seat for a chimney-sweep's posteriors. My friend 
 and myself fumed ourselves into a tolerably strong fit 
 of indignation at these unheeded outrages of the profane 
 vulgar : but it was scarcely worth while being in a 
 passion with the ragged varlets, seeing that the very 
 house where the renowned contemporary and friend of 
 bur Sir Thomas More was born, is said to be still ex- 
 tant, and yet not one person out of half-a-dozen of the 
 better sort of towns folks, whom I interrogated on the 
 subject, could tell me where it was to be found. 66 So 
 much for the little love they bear" to the memorials of 
 their ancient worthies ! 
 
 The principal Church at Rotterdam is, or rather has 
 been, a fine building ; for the staunch disciples of old 
 Calvin have so entirely stripped it of the Rags of the 
 Scarlet Whore of Babylon (as John Knox's followers 
 use to call all church ornaments) that theinterior, like the 
 rest of the old ecclesiastical edifices, wears a very naked 
 appearance. We attended divine service, and found the 
 congregation numerous enough, but as little shew of de- 
 votion or even seriousness as might well be. The men sit 
 or stand, keeping their hats on, a custom, in my eyes, 
 perfectly disgusting. The clergyman wears no sur- 
 plice or gown; simply a black coat with a short mantle 
 of the same colour. A little man., one of their favourite 
 
339 
 
 preachers, delivered a discourse of only an hour and a 
 quarter long! Casting my eyes round, in turn on 
 the building, the minister, and the audience, I could 
 readily have fancied myself among the Puritans in " the 
 Golden Days" of Cromwell and the Parliament. Well, 
 the happy medium has been framed, " sua si bona 
 norit" for the Churchman of England. To our own 
 excellent established form of worship, so correctly per- 
 sonified in the rational and decent Martin of Swift's 
 ingenious allegory,* a man may indeed find abundant 
 reasons for adhering in preference ; but of the two ex* 
 tremes, surely, the frippery and fringes of Peter's coat 
 are less unseemly than Jack's torn lappets and unripped 
 breeches ! For myself, I ow n a disposition infinitely 
 more indulgent towards Flemish and French Cat ho* 
 licism, for mistaking saintly mortals as objects of those 
 prayers and of that adoration which are due alone to our 
 Redeemer and Heavenly Father, than towards the gross 
 familiarity of deportment with which Dutch Presbyterian- 
 ism can treat the Temple of the Deity as the house of an 
 equal! From the top of the Great Church tower we 
 had a very extended and singular bird's-eye view, 
 comprising, in a circuitous glance, not only the canali- 
 Jied town beneath us, but embracing the broad -branch* 
 ing channel of the Maese, and the towns of Gouda 5 
 Delft, the Hague, Schiedam, Flaarding, and Dort. 
 
 The day after our arrival at Rotterdam we made an 
 excursion to the Hague, taking the conveyance of the 
 treckschuyt as far as Delft, a id proceeding thence in a 
 hackney-coach to the magnificent village where the 
 ci-devant Stadtholder, now the King, holds his Court. 
 The horses that draw the treckschuyts travel at the rate 
 
 # The Tale of a Tub. 
 
 Xx3 
 
340 
 
 Df between fiour and five miles an hour. Along the tow* 
 ing paths posts are slat ioned, at successive intervals, on 
 which a simple piece of mechanism is affixed which 
 keeps the line from entangling : and it is surprising to see 
 with what ease and regularity the vessels meet and pass 
 each other. Some of the passage boats are very roomy, 
 and the cabin or ruif 9 appropriated to the genteeler part 
 of the company, is handsomely fitted up. The vessel 
 moves at so uniform a rate, that the distance is usually 
 reckoned by the hour instead of the mile. This is by- 
 far the cheapest and most convenient mode of convey* 
 ancein Holland: the largest class will hold sixty per- 
 sons, and the company of respectable appearance sit at 
 their ease, as in a parlour, with refreshments before 
 them, pipes and tobacco being invariably included 
 under that term in Holland, however annoying to the 
 lungs and olfactory nerve? of those who are unaccus- 
 tomed to it. 
 
 We stopped a short time at Delft, which is a pretty^ 
 picturesque, and like all the r< st in this country, an 
 exceedingly clean town. The old and the new church 
 at Delft are both fine edifices. The former has a hand* 
 some Gothic tower, and contains a very superior piece 
 of sculptural workmanship, in the costly monument of 
 "William the First, Prince of Orange. The body of 
 the great Hugo Grotius also rests here in the sepulchre 
 of his ancestors: I say nothing of what serves for his 
 monument, a comparatively modern erection, unworthy 
 ot recalling to the stranger's attention the memory of a 
 man who was so eminent a jurisconsult, and so distin- 
 guished an honour to general literature. Jn the neyr 
 church we inspected, with a due degree of interest, the 
 sepulchral effigy of Admiral Van Tromp, and that of 
 
341 
 
 another brave sailor of the ancient naval school of 
 Holland— Admiral Heine. The spacious Market-place, 
 with its curious old Hold de Ville, has an air of antU 
 quit j, that sends back (he thoughts to times of primitive 
 simplicity in the history of this people, before they 
 obtained their independence, and, from a despised 
 province of the House of Austria, became an important 
 commercial sta.te, and a formidable naval power. It 
 was here we heard to the greatest advantage the chimes, 
 for which the Dutch are so Justly celebrated : they are 
 played by keys, and u discourse most excellent music." 
 
 The Hague deserves all that is said in its praise, as 
 one of the handsomest towns in Europe. The public 
 buildings are superb; the generality of the private 
 houses elegant, and the promenades, particularly those 
 of the Great Voorhout and the Vj/verburgh, are ex- 
 tremely fine. We walked to the residence of bis Ma- 
 jesty of the Netherlands, called (the Palais au Bois) 
 the Palace in the Wood. This wood is of considerable 
 extent, containing a great deal of majestic timber, chiefly 
 oaks, and is altogether an object of agreeable surprise 
 to the stranger in Holland. The Palace, built in the 
 old Dutch chateau stile has little to recommend its ex- 
 terior architecture. The King and Queen being there, 
 prevented us from seeing the inside. The road from 
 the Hague to Rotterdam is paved with the small bricks, 
 called cli?ikerS) set edge-ways into the ground, and 
 forming a remarkably firm and smooth surface : they 
 have a neat appearance, but are constantly requiring 
 reparation. This work of pavement was done by order 
 of Louis Buonaparte, who is well spoken of by the 
 Hollanders. Napoleon and the French were evidently 
 no favourites of the Dutch, particularly the lower 
 
312 
 
 classes, amongst whom, notwithstanding the number of 
 years they remained under the dominion of France, the 
 language of that nation appears to have made little or 
 no progress. 
 
 Our journey back, in a cabriolet and two horses, was 
 as agreeable as it could possibly be rendered by the 
 continued scene of gentlemen's seats and merchants* 
 country houses, with their pretty gardens, sprucely 
 trimmed shrubberies, and painted summer-houses over- 
 hanging the canals, and In which good, bad, and in- 
 different taste are alternately displayed. In the 
 meadows, which are luxuriant in the extreme, they 
 graze a strikingly fine breed of cows. It is by no 
 means an unpleasing sight to witness the avocations of 
 milking in these rich pastures. The urns or large jugs of 
 polished brass, shining in the sun's evening rays, may be 
 descried at some distance. The country lasses, in their 
 singular broad hats of straw, sitting in little waggons by 
 the side of these bright metal pitchers, pass us in great 
 numbers on their way from the fields, and give an increa- 
 sed novelty to the rural prospect. As we continued our 
 progress, we noticed the curious gigs, carved, gilt, and 
 painted, and of a fashion more than a century behind 
 any thing of the kind we have in England. The car- 
 riages here, both four and two-wheeled, are adapted to 
 the narrow roads of their dikes. The saw mills be- 
 tween Rotterdam and Delft, are very numerous, and 
 constitute almost the only objects in the foreground of 
 that marshy landscape. In our course we observed 
 many instances of the attachment of the Hollanders for 
 the bird called the Stork: they abound even in the 
 towns themselves, and are very tame in consequence of 
 their being thus cherished and held sacred by the 
 inhabitants. 
 
343 
 
 Another excursion which we made from Rotterdam, 
 gave us an advantageous insight into the character and 
 costumes of the seafaring class and of the female pea- 
 santry. It was to Flaarding, a small town situated on 
 the Maese, (or Merwe as it is there called) and the oc- 
 casion of our visit was the annual fete of the herring 
 fishery boats, setting sail for the northern shores of our 
 own island. From the elevated mound of the dike, along 
 which our road as usual lay, the view was a perfect 
 flat that extended to the " circle bounding earth and 
 skies" — windmills and village spires here and there in- 
 tersected the horizontal line— and the wearied eye rested 
 occasionally on the farm-houses, each encircled by cul- 
 tivated inclosures, and embosomed in a cluster of trees. 
 Every thing that belongs to Dutch gardening, tillage, 
 and pasturage, evinces neatness, industry, and care. 
 We passed through Schiedam, a town of considerable 
 size, and the outskirts of which are studded with mills 
 for grinding the Juniper berry, used in the manufac- 
 tory of its famed Geneva. From thence to Flaarding, 
 we found the road covered with the country folks, flock- 
 ing in the same direction with ourselves ; and we no 
 sooner alighted in the town, than our curiosity and in- 
 terest met a lively excitement in the humours of a 
 Dutch Fair. We had Mr. Punch in the lowest per- 
 fection— a qncmtum sufficit of raree shews — monsters, 
 dwarfish, and gigantic ; and among more dignified 
 spectacles the Battle of Waterloo was fought over again 
 —and the marriage of the Hereditary Prince of Orange 
 with his Imperial spouse was re-solemnized for the edi- 
 fication of the gaping Boors and their Frows. 
 
 In the motley throng assembled at Flaarding fair were 
 numerous unsophisticated specimens of true Dutch* 
 
344 
 
 built bottoms^ and of that round and prominent shape 
 
 Which seems to be confined here to neither age nor sex. 
 The men clad their backs with a weight of ciothes that 
 is almost incredible, and their double trowsers add 
 enormously to the bulk of their lower limbs, which are 
 in general of a stout make. The elder dames carry the 
 stratum super stratum of petticoat and waistcoat to an 
 equally overwhelming pitch of awkward heaviness; 
 perhaps to preserve the " balance of power" from being 
 destroyed by the still more preposterous size of their hats: 
 some of these are of straw poking forwards like a great 
 "winnowing fan— others flat, of the circumference of a 
 small umbrella;, and curiously adorned with a lining of 
 flowered print, or embroidered silk, most magnificently 
 overshadowing the whole person. The festival suits of 
 the young women are not less peculiar, and are still more 
 difficult to describe. Their jackets of white dimity, 
 fitting tight to the shape — their short petticoats of many 
 colours — stockings with worked clocks ; and slippers of 
 yellow velvet or red morocco, without quarters— are 
 all ingredients in this dish of singularity. But still they 
 do notconsiderthemselves sufficiently killing, unless their 
 ears are loaded with large pendants, their throats en- 
 chained with ponderous necklaces, and their temples 
 clasped round by plates of silver or gold, or their 
 counterfeits, the lustre of which appearing through a close 
 cap of gauze or lace, that completely covers the head and 
 conceals the hair, gives a finish to the grotesque effect 
 produced on their countenances, many of which, in spite 
 of these disguises, have a tolerable share of natural pret- 
 tiness. The Dutch inflexibility of these metal-headed 
 lasses, though not instantly susceptible of mollification 
 from the casual glance of a stranger, may yet be smiled 
 
345 
 
 into a good-natured grin, responsive to the universal 
 language of nature. — With the superior and middling 
 classes of society, at least in those parts of Holland 
 "which came under our observation, the fashions of France 
 almost entirely prevail, in the dress of both sexes : but 
 in this imitation of foreign refinement — this adoption of 
 what may be denominated a more artificial system of 
 things, many of the truly interesting traits of native 
 tbaracter ar£ irrecoverably lost.* 
 
 There is no inconsiderable proportion of female beauty 
 and symmetry of form to be seen, in walking through the 
 streets and public places of Rotterdam. Remarking to 
 an intelligent young Belgian, at the same table d'hote 
 •with ourselves, that the manners of the women, even 
 above the common classy were such as indicated a 
 warmer and more vivacious temperament than was 
 formerly attributed to the national character, he ob- 
 served in reply, that their long intercourse with the 
 French had greatly tendc d to divest the fair Hollanders 
 of their coldness. Besides (added he, with an archness 
 of countenance that shewed he did not speak altogether 
 from the report of others) with respect to married life 
 here, a Dutch husband is seldom a domestic character: 
 occupied during the day with the pursuits of business^ 
 at night he attends his club — the wife, thus neglected, 
 
 * Most correctly is this truth develloped by the elegant Autho* 
 ress of Corinne, when she observes, " L'art de la civilization tend 
 sans cesse a rendre tous les homraes semblablcs en apparence, et presque 
 en .ealite ; mais I'esprit et ^imagination se pia sent dans les difference* 
 qui chararterisent les nations. Les hommes ne se ressemblent entr® 
 eux, que par ^affectation ou le calcul; mais tout cequi est nature! est 
 vane. C'est done un petit plaisir au moins pour les yeux, que la 
 diversite des costumes : elle semble pro met ire une nouveile oianiere dm 
 sentir et de juger. '—Vuh I. 
 
 Yj 
 
346 
 
 is open to the seductions of assiduous intrigue, and 
 not unfrequently induced to console herself in the 
 •ociety of some favourite gallant, for the deprivation 
 of conjugal felicity. 
 
 Rotterdam and Paris, forming as they did the two 
 opposite extremities of our line of march, are no less con- 
 trasted in every local and social characteristic. No 
 where did we find them more opposed to each other 
 than in the Caffes. The eternal nuisance of tobacco, at 
 all places of public resort in Holland, destroys every 
 feeling above that of gross enjoyment. At cards, 
 billiards, or music, one is perpetually condemned to 
 inhale an atmosphere of noisome vapour, through which 
 the forms of men and things are but indistinctly seen, if 
 indeed not altogether rendered invisible.— A very high 
 degree of national pride appears to be taken in the 
 display of the orange cockade s indeed the Dutch seem 
 to be very well satisfied with their present political state. 
 They have got their darling trade again : and certainly 
 without it the Hollander is the most miserable being in 
 the world. With too little fondness for an idle life to 
 be Jacobins, and too little ambition for schemes of con- 
 quest to become a military nation, this people must 
 have felt their connection, as well with Republican as 
 with Imperial France, equally uncongenial to their tem- 
 pers and ruinous to their interests. — To such an extreme 
 do they carry their love of domestic cleanliness, that 
 the employment of washing the outside as well as the 
 inside of their habitations, proceeds habitually 66 in 
 spite of wind or weather and the foot passenger is in 
 danger of being sluiced from top to toe, with the con- 
 tents of a water bucket, even while the clouds them- 
 selves are pouring down a drenching rain. 
 
347 
 
 The beggars in Rotterdam and other towns are more 
 numerous and troublesome than we expected to find 
 in this country of industry : and the appearance of* 
 most of the lower class indicated extreme indigence. 
 The use of sabots, or wooden shoes, is as prevalent 
 among them as it is among the poor of France and 
 Flanders. — Two things will always be noticed on the 
 first inspection of a Dutch town : the first is the great 
 inclination of the fronts of houses from the perpen- 
 dicular ; the other is the custom of placing mirrors of 
 various sizes and forms on the outsides of the windows, 
 by which means a person in the room can see every 
 thing that passes the street in either direction. — The 
 extortion of the Dutch voituriers, porters, and other 
 folks of that description, upon strangers, is as excessive 
 as their behaviour is rude and disagreeable. This 
 circumstance alone renders travelling in Holland, 
 though for never so short a distance, a harassing affair. 
 The lower classes of employes, having no fixed scale of 
 charges to controul them, are perpetually practising 
 their impositions on the inexperienced ; and even after 
 a bargain is made you may lay your account to being 
 teazed with some rascally demand, in the shape of an 
 after-reckoning. Even the Flemish merchant, our 
 compagnon de voyage, though thoroughly versed in 
 their ways, and perfectly acquainted with the language 
 of the country, had now and then a difficulty to get on 
 with them : and when he told these harpies that he was 
 aware he was paying more than a Hollander would give 
 them, they flatly acknowledged it to be their practice 
 to charge the Brabanters at a higher rate than their own 
 countrymen. What then would have been the extent of 
 their consciences had they known us to be Englishmen $ 
 
348 
 
 Our stay in Holland proved of very short duration, and 
 tinder circumstances by no means of a favourable kind. 
 The weather, which hitherto, with few exceptions, had 
 proved propitious, particularly while we remained in 
 France, now assumed that most unseasonable state, in 
 which it has continued throughout the resl of the summer. 
 Cold winds, accompanied with a deluge of rain, balked 
 every prospect, $nd frustrated every plan. These im- 
 pediments and inconveniences nevertheless were not al- 
 together of the hopeless sort : patience and perse- 
 verance would have doubtless surmounted them ; and I 
 was myself strongly disposed for the continued exercise 
 of these virtues, on such an occasion ; being of opinion 
 that the incidents of a journey, like those of wedlock, 
 should be taken " for better and for worse," and that 
 the principle of " nil actum reputans si quid superesset 
 agendum" should always actuate the Tourist, in re- 
 ference to objects of rational curiosity and research, 
 fairly within reach of his time and rneans. Accordingly 
 on the third day of our residence in Rotterdam, ar- 
 rangements having previously been made, we were 01* 
 the point of pursuing our journey to Amsterdam, when 
 an alteration unfortunately took place in the state ot 
 my friend's health. It is possible that my worthy 
 companion's bodily indisposition might be somewhat en- 
 creased by certain influences of tlie mind, that sympa- 
 thise with those so well described by Madame de Stael, 
 in her remarks on the subject of travelling * Be this, how- 
 
 # u Voyager est, quoi qu'on en pnisse dire, un des plus tristes 
 p'aisirs d" la vie. Lor.>que vous vous trouvez bien dans quelque ville 
 etrangere, e*e*t que vous commencez a vous y faire une palrie; maig 
 traverser des pays in conn us, entendre parler un langa^e que vous 
 comprenez & peine, voir des visages hiimains f sans relation a votre passe 
 m a votre aveuir, e'est de la »plitttde et de i'isoiement satis repos et sans 
 
349 
 
 ever, as it might, our plan for completing the tour of the 
 United Provinces was forthwith changed to one for 
 effecting our immediate return to England; and we 
 thus abruptly and prematurely quitted a country, not 
 perhaps the most agreeable in the world with respect to 
 climate, scenery, or manners of the inhabitants, yet 
 unquestionably possessed of many highly interesting 
 claims on the stranger's attention.* 
 
 dignite ; car cet empressement, cette hate, pour arriver la ou personne 
 lie vous attend ; cette agitation dont la cuiiosite est la seuie cause vous 
 inspire pea d'estime pour vous-mSme—jusqu'au moment ou les objeis 
 nouveiux deviennent un pen auciens, et creent autour de vous quelques 
 doux liens de sentiment et d'habitude." — Carbine, vol. 1, p. 12. 
 
 * On the 19th we arrived at the strong and handsome town of Hel- 
 voetsluys, where we embarked on board the Prince of Orange packet f 
 Capt* Bridge, and 'on the 21st, at noon, we landed at Harwich, 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Stevenson, Matehett, and Stevenson, 
 Printers, Norwich. 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page 14, line 19, for walk read fill.—V. 32, 1. 5, for de read du P. 38, 
 
 ]. 8 from bottom, for de ijlomb read d y aplomb. —P. 58, I. 4 from bottom, 
 for were read was, — P. 61, 1. 16, after Robespierre read P. 66, 1. 4, 
 
 for ascendency read ascendancy. — P. 69, I. 15, for crown read crowns.— 
 P. 82, 1. 19 ; for mourning read mournful. — P. 84, 1. 10, foi drappeaux read 
 drapeanx. — P. 88, 1. 3 fiom bottom, for soit read ois. — P. 91, 1. 5. for rfe- 
 pository read repository. —P. 94, 1. 2 from bottom, for opportunity read ojj- 
 portunity. — P. 96, 1. 1 of note, for Le read La — P. 104, 1. 13, for des maux 
 read de nos maux. — P. 124, 1. 5, dele circular. — P. 124, L 6, dele e in 
 groupe. — P. 150, 1. 6, for seem read seems. — P. 150, 1. 12 from bottom, 
 for chef d'eeuvres read chefs d'eeuvre. — P. 166, I. 17, after transparency 
 add of living flesh. — P. 169, 1. 6, for are read is. — P. 173, 1. I 
 and 2 of note, for cemetiere read cime Here. — P. 174, 1. 8 of note, for 
 present read presente ; & I 10 of do. for protegez read proteger. — P. 188^ 
 1. 15, for chambre read ehambre. — P. 199, I. 14, for peris Hie read range, 
 P. 200, 1.4, for Bow hons read Bourbon.— V. 207, I. 10 from bottom, for vu 
 read vus. — P. 224, 1. 15, for petite read petit. — P. 232, 1.4, forcte read 
 P. 237, 1. 17, for obsolete read obsolete. — P. 239, I. 5 from bottom, after 
 never insert all, — P. 248, 1. 5 from bottom, for hand read side. — P. 250, 
 1. 5 from bottom, dele the. — P. 258, L 7 from bottom, dele the. — P. 266, 
 ]. 13, after ground insert and. — P. 269, 1. 15, for de read da.— P. 270, 1, 8, 
 for interior read exterior. — P. 271, 1. 12 from bottom, for performances 
 read performers — P. 271, I. 7 from bottom, for bad read badly.— 
 P. 278, 1, 12, for town read farm, — P. 281, 1. 12 from bottom, for 
 paramont read paramount. — P. 282, line 2 from bottom, after of insert a. 
 — P. 283, I. 11 from bottom, for justly read jointly.— P. 284, 1. 3, for 
 Neville read Nivelle — P. 284, 1. 9, for groves read graves. — P. 288, 1. 6 
 from bottom, for irettele read crenele — P. 312, 1. 1, for mateur read 
 amateur. — P. 320, 1. I, for Basin read Bassin.— P. 320, L 7 from bottom, 
 for VaudacHe read Vaudace. — P. 322, 1. 14, for Andree read Andre.— 
 P. 322, 1. 2 from bottom, for crucifix read crucifixion. — P. 324, 1. 12, 
 for Andree read Andre* 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 NOTE to Page 133, line 17.]— "The Military Spec- 
 tacle (at tbe Thuilleries) is not now to be compared with 
 that in Buonaparte's time." 
 
 During a seven weeks' residence at Paris, in the summer of 1802, the 
 author was present on two separate days when Buonaparte reviewed the 
 Consular Guard, in the capacious square of the Carousel: of the former 
 of these occasions, the following is an attempt to detail the principal inci- 
 dents i — * c The Graud Parade commenced about noon, and scarcely had we 
 succeeded, through the assistance of a military friend, in obtaining an advan- 
 tageous situation within the pallisades of the Cour du Palais, when the 
 soldiers, horse, foot, and artillery, began to pour in, to the amount of about 
 8000 men, and certainly, in point both of personal and soldier-like appear- 
 ance, finer troops could not be beheld. Before my eyes, in fact, were a part 
 of the elite of the French army, more than half the number being 
 the Consular Guard, whose towering veteran grenadiers, both on foot and 
 ©n horseback, presented a most imposing front. The infantry formed 
 in three lines parrallel with the Thuilleries, and the cavalry and artiU 
 lery were drawn up, in the same manner, opposite to, and at right angles 
 with them. Shortly after these dispositions had been completed, the 
 trumpets announced the arrival of the First Consul, at the entrance of the 
 Palace: every man was at his post, and in an instant Buonaparte was 
 seen mounted on a spirited Arabian, of a light dapple colour, elegantly 
 caparisoned, accompanied by the officers of his staff, and attended by his 
 favourite Mameluke, riding at a gentle trot into the centre of the parade, 
 where he was received with all " the pomp and circumstance of glorious 
 war. ,? The military business commenced with the ceremony of restoring 
 
 Z z 
 
to their lost honours a regiment which had, for some reason which I could 
 not learn, been disgraced at Milan ; this consisted in Buonaparte's taking 
 off some pieces of black crape attached to their colours, after giving them 
 a lecture of some minutes' continuance. Then ieaving his station, the 
 Generalissimo proceeded down one line and up another, twice passing 
 within a very few yards of the spot where I stood ; and the second time, 
 stopping at that short distance to address an officer, enabled me as well to 
 bear his voice as to take the complete survey of him, which I am about to 
 describe. In person he is diminutive, but he is very well made, and in 
 action graceful: his visage long and narrow, yet rendered most interest- 
 ing by a penetrating eye and by sharp and prominent features, strikes me 
 upon the whole as handsome ; his complexion is a pale olive, and the cast 
 of his countenance wears a mournful severity, keenly expressive of ajiar? 
 rassed and never-reposing mind. He was dressed in the uniform of the 
 National Guard ; a dark blue coat, with broad white facings and cuffed 
 ivith red ; epaulettes and buttons of gold ; a plain small cocked hat, pu£ 
 on exactly square, and adorned only with a little tri-coloured rosette ; 
 white leather breeches and high boots ; and an unornamented sword. He 
 wore his hair short, and without powder — it is of a deep black, and forms 
 as striking a contrast to the sallowness of his complexion as the sim- 
 plicity of his dress did to the magnificent habiliments and decorations of 
 the officers who attended him. His appearance altogether is as interest- 
 ing as it is peculiar, and presents a rare instance of a diminutive person 
 * attended with a great degree of unaffected importance. Having finished 
 his inspection of the different lines, the First Consul resumed his post iq 
 the centre of the parade, his back to the cavalry and his face to the 
 infantry, and at the word the whole broke into open column, and marched 
 past him in the order of review. To an admirer of military discipline and 
 splendour, nothing could be more gratifying than this part of the spectacle ; 
 the warrior aspect of the troops, the correctness of all their movements, 
 jnade within a circumscribed space, the promptitude of the officers, and 
 the martial music of the various bands with which the air resounded, alfr 
 united to affect the mind of an Englishman with mixed sensations of 
 national jealousy and consolation — " Behold the men, (said I to myself), 
 who have conquered Europe, and raised the military character of 
 France to an unexampled pitch of glory ; but they have assisted likewise 
 in sinking the slavery of her political character to a lower depth, if pos- 
 sible, than before that miserable epocha when the tottering fabric of 
 absolute Monarchy fell before the devouring fire of an anarchical and 
 sanguinary Revolution. To France remain the fruits of conquest, 
 
s 
 
 but England alone enjoys the blessings of real Liberty. " The ceremony 
 lasted an hour and a half, during the whole of which time Buonaparte 
 Was distinctly in my view. His behaviour to the common soldiers, on this 
 occasion, was quite in the stile of that military coquetry for which he has 
 been remarked : in passing the ranks he frequently stopped ; ordered out 
 a private or a subaltern, and honoured him with a short but affable con- 
 versation. These studied but politic and well-timed marks of attention 
 to deserving men, have the desired effect of raising his popularity in the 
 army even to the height of enthusiasm. Towards the superior officers, on 
 the other hand, he constantly appeared to maintain a reserved and unbend « 
 ing deportment, rarely addressing himself to the Generals by whom he 
 was surrounded, and as seldom deigning, by bowing or pulling off his hat, 
 to acknowledge any mark of respect that was from time to time shewn him 
 as be passed. The troops having again formed in line, a second general 
 salute concluded the business of the Review. — Journal of 1802, (June 4). 
 
 * Note to Page 108, last line.']— " The preparations 
 for a (Parisian) Fete." 
 
 From the same memoranda whence the account contained in the pre- 
 ceding note is drawn, the following description of the principal Republican 
 Festival at Paris is extracted, as also having, in the time of the First 
 Consul, come under the author's personal observation. It was that of the 
 anniversary of the Destruction of the Bastille : — 
 
 " For several days previous to the 14th of July, strangers, particularly 
 the English, had been flocking into Paris to witness the Fete. The day 
 feeing arrived, the vendors of feuilles volantes were at an early hour peram- 
 bulating the streets with their hands full of the programme, or arrangement 
 of the business, every part of which looked extremely fair on paper i 
 whilst the clatter of the soldiery marching into Paris from the environs 
 gave amply " note of preparation." About noon the order of the spectacle 
 " began with a grand concert of instrumental music, performed before Buo- 
 naparte and the constituted authorities, in the Gardens of the Thuilleries, 
 Where a large orchestra had been erected for the purpose. This was fol- 
 lowed by the civic ceremony of marrying a number of buxom lasses to 
 as many able-bodied young fellows, who were willing to encrease the 
 population of the Republic, from whose treasury each bride received a 
 sum of money, as a national dowry. From this edifying scene, we pro- 
 ceeded to the Parade before the Palace of the Thuilleries, where a very 
 interesting scene of military splendour presented itself. The troops ea=- 
 
 Z z 2 
 
4 
 
 tirely filled the Place de Carousel, occupying the whale space both 
 within and without the rails of the Court of the Thuilleries. They mus- 
 tered nearly twelve thousand men, infantry, and cavalry, the latter 
 amounting to half that number, amongst whom a brigade of Cuirassiers, 
 Wearing helmets and breast plates of polished steel, made a conspicuously 
 warlike and brilliant appearance. But the chief novelty of the parade 
 was the newly-raised corps of Mamelukes, 200 strong, richly attired in 
 the proper costume, armed after the manner of their country, and 
 mounted on beautiful white Arabian horses ; they were for the most part 
 handsome young men, and formed a superb specimen of the Cavalry of 
 Upper Egypt. Here, however, they are merely parade soldiers, adding 
 to the magnificence of the First Consul's train ; but the object of embody- 
 ing them is considered to be connected with the designs which Buonaparte 
 still entertains upon Egypt, as the key to the East Indies. There were 
 some ceremonies extraordinary for the First Consul to go through, such 
 as the presentation of colours to particular corps, and the speechifying 
 necessary on such occasions, but some drenching showers falling at inter-' 
 vals, reduced the parade to its usual length. This time I did not confine 
 myself to any particular spot, but mixed in the crowd, which of itself 
 afforded subjects enough for contemplation and amusement. Notwith- 
 standing these Reviews are constantly recurring, it was surprising 
 to see the eager curiosity of the Parisians to witness them, which could 
 scarcely be restrained by the Gens d? Armes who kept the ground, nor even 
 by a sense of personal danger. A man near me, who, with a flock of others, 
 was very roughly pushed back by these unceremonious gentry, had the teme- 
 rity to use some expressions that gave umbrage to an officer of rank: 
 <( Metlez la main sur cet homme la" was instantly the word, and the poor 
 victim of free speech was marched off" to durance, between a file of soldiers. 
 Yet he, no doubt, like other inhabitants of the capital, carried about him a 
 carte de surete, on which was inscribed Liberie et Egalite. Thank God, 
 (thought I) soldiers cannot imprison us in England. After the parade there 
 was a grand levee, and a dinner given at the Palace of the Thuilleries. It 
 was a most entertaining thing to see the Senators, Members of the Legisla- 
 tive Body, and a multitude of other folks, foreign and domestic; go in 
 state to Court. A few English carriages decorated the procession, but as 
 for the equipages of the nouveau regime, they were a complete pattern of 
 shabby gentility. — In the evening the principal Theatres (which belong to 
 Government) were opened, and the Parisians admitted gratis to their 
 dear spectacles. Orders had been given for a General Illumination, but 
 when night came the streets were in " darkness visible," except where, 
 
s 
 
 at long intervals, the lights of a Governmental edifice served a little to 
 dispel the surrounding gloom. The French do not display that emulative 
 spirit which actuates our English public on such occasions. They will 
 run from one end of the town to the other seeing fine sights, but will seldom 
 willingly spend a sous, or lift a hand, in contribution towards them,— 
 If, however, I had reason to be disappointed in the zeal of the Citizens, 
 the. Court End made ample amends, and convinced me, from the 
 specimen there exhibited, that an Illumination, made com amore, in 
 Paris, must be the finest sight of the kind in the world. In order 
 to form a tolerably correct idea of the brilliant scene which I am other- 
 wise vainly attempting to describe, it were necessary to have been an eye 
 witness of that magnificent arrondissement, comprising the Palace and 
 Gardens of the Thuilleries; the buildings of the Garde Meuble and Ad- 
 miralty, the Place de la Concorde, and the Elysian Fields. The method 
 of illuminating is by lamps, made of coarse pot-earth, of a circular form, 
 about five or six inches in diameter, and two in depth, filled with tallow, 
 and having a large wick in the middle, which shews a good light and burns 
 a long time. Innumerable quantities of these are placed in the closest 
 ©rder on the outside of a public building, completely tracing out its 
 eontour and architectural character, as with a pencil of fire. Ia 
 all the walks and terraces of the gardens, and in the spacious area of the 
 Place adjoining, hundreds of large and lofty pyramidical frames, full of 
 the same lamps, were arranged in the most judicious manner. And thus 
 this quarter of the town, which in the day time forms a coup d'ceil of the 
 greatest elegance, was thrown literally into a blaze of splendour, that, 
 turning night into the brightest glare of noon, rendered not only the person 
 and features of every individual clearly distinguishable, but the prospect 
 also to some distance. Thewind, which threatened at one time to 
 play the part of General Extinguisher, had fallen, and the weather was 
 extremely fine. The effect was that of enchantment. I ranged aboutj 
 taking the perspective from various points, and agitated with sensations 
 ©f a nature indescribable, but which a scene so fascinating and so 
 pecwliar was calculated to produce. At one time I stood leaning 
 against the wooden rails that mark the identical spot where Louis XVI. 
 and his Queen were guillotined. It is in the middle of La Place de la 
 Concorde {ci-devant de Louis XV. whose equestrian statue was made to 
 give way for that instrument of slaughter) : before me were the once Royal 
 Gardens and Palace, the theatre of the dreadful 10th of August — around 
 me iu all directions were passing a promiscuous crowd-— the thoughtless 
 
6 
 
 votaries of gaiety and dissipation, over the ground which but a few short 
 years before was drunken with human blood ! 
 
 " Can such things be, 
 
 <e And overcome us like a summer's cloud, 
 
 " Without our special wonder ?" 
 tfc The concourse of spectators was immense — Europeans, Asiatics, 
 Africans, and Americans, all in their proper habits, mixed together on one 
 small spot of earth— a congregated world. We are truly told, however, 
 that no gratification arising from the senses can long survive the loss of 
 its novelty : of this I had a forcible instance. As T stood by the edge of 
 the great basin in the Gardens of the Thuilleries, admiring the appearance 
 of ihe jet d y eau, whose aspiring column sparkled with a thousand re- 
 flected beams, thinking that nothing could equal the sight I beheld, 
 and that no one could feel tired with its repetition, my attention was di- 
 verted by the conversation of two lively Frenchmen near me, who were 
 making some sarcastic remarks on the meagreness of the File, and par- 
 ticularly of the Illumination, which they pronounced to be very insigni- 
 ficant compared with what had been done two or three months before in. 
 honour of the Peace. The fact is, that Republicanism, or rather Sam- 
 eulottism, is rapidly going out of fashion ; and this anniversary brings 
 with it ideas for which the Revolution-trick Parisians have lost all relish. 
 They like the Fete, but care little for the occasion*" 
 
 Note to Page 146, last three lines.']— 66 These (ob- 
 jects of the Monumental Museum) form at once a regular 
 and complete climax of perfection in art, and a most 
 interesting series of historical elucidation.'* * 
 
 " Amongst the relics of what is termed the middle age, are the tombs 
 which, till their late removal from the Abbey of St. Denis, respectively 
 covered the remains of the first race of French Kings and Queens, viz. Dago* 
 bert, Childebert, Fredegonde, Clovis, &c. and also that of Charlemagne, 
 translated from the Cathedral of Aix la Chapelle. In the Hall of the Thir- 
 teenth Century lies the sepulchral statue of the Good Louis (the Ninth) 
 who died at Tunis, in Africa, 1270. In the Fourteenth Century are the 
 monumental effigies of Charles the Fifth, surnamed the Wise, and his 
 Queen, Jean de Bourbon. This Prince was the original founder of the 
 Library now so prodigiously accumulated in the Rue de la Loi 9 and 
 which goes under the name of La Bibliotheque Nationale. In the apart* 
 
ment devoted to the Monuments of the Fifteenth century, are two curl* 
 ously carved statues, on their knees, representing Juvenel de Ursins, (a 
 distinguished citizen of Paris, who died in 1431) and his wife. The Six- 
 teenth Century exhibits a vast improvement in the state of the Arts, ljj 
 this age of polished chivalry and of revived learning, we are presented 
 with the monument of Philip de Comines, the celebrated French His- 
 torian. Here also the statues of Louis the Twelfth and Anne of Bretagne, 
 his Queen, are laid recumbent in a handsome mausoleum ; themselves, in 
 alabaster of livid hue, exhibiting a picture of death and corruption, not 
 less creditable to the talents of the statuary than humiliating to the pride 
 of our nature. There is apparent, amongst the artists of this age, a dis- 
 position to enforce the memento mori 9 which, though sometimes carried 
 to a disgusting extreme of correctness, yet, for its honesty, I am almost 
 inclined to prefer above the flattering compositions of later date. The 
 Tomb of Francis the First is deposited by itself in a sepulchral chamber, 
 decorated in a manner strictly accordaut with the architectural stile of 
 the age when the monument was erected. It is from the Abbey of St. 
 penis — all of black marble, wonderfully rich in sculptural ornaments, 
 i>as reliefs, and allegorical figures — beneath a kind of canopy, supported 
 I>y superb columns, are the figures, (kneeling, as if in the act of prayer) 
 ©f this high-spirited and liberal, but rash and unfortunate monarch, and 
 of his Queen, together with those of his sons and daughters,. This work is 
 a fine specimen of the magnificent but heavy taste of that age. The 
 monuments of the seventeenth century display the brilliant union of re- 
 fined taste with consummate skill. Most attractive amongst these is the 
 famous group in marble, after the designs of Le Brun> forming the Mau- 
 soleum of Cardinal Richelieu. This master piece of Girardon represents, 
 in figures as large as life, the Cardinal reclining in the arms of Religion, 
 whilst History sits weeping at his feet. In the same apartment stands 
 the Mausoleum of Richelieu's successor and imitator, Cardinal Mazarin. 
 His statue is kneeling piously on the cenotaph that once covered his 
 mortal remains, behind him is an infant Bgure holding the fascis and 
 axe, emblems of his power : at the base of the monument are three bronze 
 figures, representing Fidelity, Prudence, and Plenty. This piece of 
 sculpture, equal in point of execution, though not so interesting as the 
 former, is from the chisel of Coyzevox, and brought hither from the 
 College of the Four Nations which Mazarin founded. Such are the re- 
 spectable traits under which the sculptor has transmitted to us the me- 
 mory of these two celebrated political ecclesiastics. Vain, flattering 
 
8 
 
 art ! The pen of History hands down a different picture of their cha- 
 racters ; and, more faithful to the cause of truth, displays them before the 
 eyes of posterity as the children of ambition and intrigue, successively 
 the favourites and the sport of fortune, the advocates of despotism, and 
 its victims ! — There is a considerable quantity of stained glass in the 
 windows of the different apartments. The sepulchral Chapel of Francis 
 the First is ornamented with three lights, in chaste and simple grisaille, 
 finely executed, representing Christ preaching in the Wilderness, Abra- 
 ham delivering his Son to Agar, and the Victory gained by Moses over 
 the Amalekites. In the windows of the cloisters are twenty-two fine 
 paintings on glass, representing the history of Cupid and Psyche, after 
 the cartoons of Raphael : but the greater portion of this collection, I was 
 surprised to find, very inferior both in design and execution, and put 
 together in a clumsy and unworkmanlike manner. Amongst the» tombs 
 in the Garden is that of Abelard and Heloise, the story of whose unhappy 
 loves has been most poetically, but certainly too voluptuously, illustrated 
 by the pen of Mr. Pope. Here there is also a eenotaph of black marble, 
 on which lies the statue of Bertrand Du Guesclin, surnamed the Good 
 Constable, who died in 1360 ; and by his side that of Louis de Sancerre > 
 his contemporary and friend. In this Garden we are likewise shewn 
 sarcophagi, containing the ashes of Moliere, of La Fontaine, and of 
 Boileau, illustrious among the "ftars" of the eighteenth century."—. 
 Journal of 1802. 
 
 £nd of the appendix?