YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Jv John. ihJT del ' arJMfnxirtt JO-ip'' /^v//^// ^y^r/tc Z^-, '(i/i/^t/-e (y Ir'ci/f.r f// .. \o'r/)?a'//rn. n/. J^ilihfAed-JprU'i^.iSoj-ly J.Jolauon Sfl'mil^ Oiwdi Tard . THE STRANGER IN FRANCE; OK, A TOUR FROM DEVONSHIRE TO PARIS. ILLUSTRATED BY ENGRAVINGS IN AQUA TINTA, SKETCHES, TAKEN ON THE SPOT, BY SIR JOHN CARR. SECOND EDITION. LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, NO. 72, ST. PAUl's CHURCH-YARD. 1807. Printed by S. Hamilton, WeybrJdge, 6urrey. TO MRS. CHINNERY. Madam, COULD you impart to me the Ayle by which your epistolary writing is so gracefully di stinguished, I could more powerfully express the pride and pleasure I feel in dedicating the following pages to you, as a little memorial of the high value I place upon the friendship with which you have so long favoured me, and better describe the loss which society sustained when the bias of maternal duty, so worthy of the eulogium it has received firom the commemo rative pen of a Genlis, very early in life withdrew you to Gillwell ; a sacrifice* which you have had the felicity of "Seeing compensated by the success which has crowned your anxious and affectionate labours. I have the happiness to remain, Madam, Your faithful Friend and most obedient Servant, .JOHN CARR. June 6, 1807. 2, Garden Court, Temple THE STRANGER IN FRANCE. CHAPTER I, Torr Abbey. — Cap of Liberty. — AnecJote of English Preju dice. — Fire Ships. — Southampton River.— Netley Abbev. XT was a circumstance which vpill be memotable with me as long as I live, and pleasant to my feelings as often as I recur to it, that part of my intended excursion to the Continent was per formed in the last ship of war^ which, after the formal confirmations of the peace, remained of that vast naval armament, which, from the heights of Torbay, for so many years presented to the as tonished and admiring eye a spectacle at onc6 of picturesque beauty, and national glory. It was the last attendant in the train of retiring war. Under the charming roof of Torr Abbey, the residence of George Cary, esq. I passed a few 2 roRR abbey; days, until the Megaera was ready to sail (ot Portsmouth, to be paid off, the commander of which, captain Newhouse, very politely offered to convey my companion, captain W. Cary, and my self, to that port. In this beautiful spot, the gallant heroes of our navy have often fmind the severe and perilous duties of the boisterous element alleviated by at tentions, which, in their splendid and cordial dis play, united an elegant taste to a noble spirit of hospitality. In the Harleiarl Tracts there is a short, but rather curious account preserved of the sensation produced at the Abbey on the 5th of November, 1688, after the priflce of Orange had entered the bay with his fleet, on their passage to Brixham, where he landed : — " The prince commanded captain M ta " search the lady Cary's house, at Torr Abbey, " for arms and horses. The lady entertaining " them civilly, said her husband was gone to Ply- " mouth : they brought from thence some horses, " and a few arms, but gave no further disturbance " to the lady or her house." CAf OF LIBERTV. — ENGLISH PREJUDICE. 3 . Throughout this embarrassing interview, the lady Cary appears to have conducted herself with great temper, dignity, and resolution, whilst, on the other hand, the chaplain of that day, whose opinions were not very favourable to the revolu tion, unlike his present amiable and enlightened successor *, left his lady in the midst of her perr plexities, and fled. In the Abbey, I was much pleaSed with an interesting, though not very ornamental, trophy of the glorious victory of Aboukir. The truckle heads of the masts of the Aquilon, a French ship of the line, which struck to the then brave captain, now admiral, Louis in that ever memorable battle, were covered with the bonnet rouge ; one of these caps of liberty, surmounted with the British flag, having been committed to the care of the fa mily by that heroic commander, at this time con stituted atemporary ornament to their dining-room. Here we laid in provision for our little voyage, without, however, feeling the same apprehension which agitated the mind of a fair damsel in the service of a lady of rank who formerly resided in * "Rev. John Halford. B 2 4 FIRE SHIPS. my neighbourhood, who, preparing to attend her mistress to the continent, and having heard from the jolly historians of the kitchen, that the food in France was chiefly supplied by the croaking inha bitants of the green and standing pool, contrived, very carefully, to carry over a piece of homebred pork, concealed in her workbag. Early in the morning after we set sail, we passed through the Needles, which saved us a very considerable circuitous sail round the south ern side of the Isle of Wight, a passage which the late admiral Macbride first successfully attempted, for vessels of war, in a ship of the line. The vessel, in which we sailed, was a fireship -, a costly instrument of destruction, which was never called into action during the recent war, and only once, and that unsuccessfully, during the preceding one. We have several of them in commission, although they are confessedly of little utility in these times, and from the immense stores of combustibles with which they are charged, promise more peril than glory to the commander and his crew. We soon after dropped anchor, and proceeded SOUTHAMPTON RIVER, 5 to Portsmouth in search of a packet for Havre-de- Grace. In the street, our trunks were seized by the custom-house officers whilst conveying to the inn, but after presenting our keys, and requesting immediate search and restoration, they were re turned to us without further annoyance. Finding that the masters of the French packets were unde termined when they should sail, we resolved upon immediately leaving this celebrated sea-port, and proceeding by water to Southampton, distant about twenty-four miles ; where, after a very un pleasant passage, from its blowing with consider able violence soon after we left Portsmouth, we arrived, in a little wherry, about twelve o'clock at night, at the Vine inn, which is very conveniently situated for passengers by the packets. It will not be required of me, to attempt a minute description of the Southampton river, at a , time when I expected, with some reason as I af terwards understood, to sink to the bottom of it. An observation very natural to persons in our si tuation, occurred to me all the way, viz. that the shores seemed to be too far distant from each Other, and that had there been less water, the • NBTtET ABBET. scenery would have been more delightful ; an ob servation which, however, the next day confirmed, when it presented the safe and tranquil appear ance of a mirror. Finding that the packet for France was not likely t6 sail immediately, we hired a boat, and proceeded down the river to view the beautiful ruins of Netley Abbey, in the great court of which we dined, under the shade of aged limes, serenaded by the various music of its feathered and restless tenantry. As I am no great admirer-of tedious details, I shall not attempt an antiquarian history of this delightful spot, I shall leave it to more circum stantial travellers, to enumerate the genealogies of the worthies who occupied it at various eras, and to relate, like a monumental tablet, when, whefe, and how they lived and died ; it will be guflicient to observe, that the site of this romantic abode was granted by Henry VIII., in X 537, to a sir William Paulet, and that after having had many merry monks for its masters, who, no doubt, performed their matntinte laucks and nociurnx t»ig^i7z<5e with devout exactness, it is at length in NETLEY ABBEV. 7 the possession of Mr. Dance, who has a very fin? and picturesque estate on that side of the river, of which these elegant ruins constitute the chief or nament. The church still exhibits a beautiful specimen of gothic architecture, but its tottering remains will rapidly share the fate of the neigh bouring pile, which Time has prostrated on the earth, and covered with his thickest shade of ivy. Our watermen gave us a curious description of this place, and amused us not a little with their ridiculous anachronisms. " I tell you what," said one of them, contra dicting the other, " you are in the wrong. Bob, " indeed you are wrong, don't mislead them gen- " tlemen, that there Abbey is in the true Roman " style, and was built by a man they call , " but that's neither here nor there, I forget the " name ; however, its a fine place, and universally " allowed to be very old. I frequently rows " gentlefolks there, and picks up a great deal " about it." On our return the tide was at its height, the sun was setting in great glory, the sky and water seemed blended in each other, the sarae red rich 8 KETLEY ABBEY. tjnt reigned throughout, the vessels at anchor appeared suspended in the air, the spires of the churches were tipped with the golden ray; a scene of more beauty, richness, and tranquillity, [ never beheld. CHAPTER II. French Emigrants. — Scene on the Quay of Southampton. — Sail for Havre. — Aged French Priest. —Respectable Con duct of Emigrants in England. — Their Gratitude. — Make the Port of Havre. — Panic of the Emigrants. — Landing described. — H6tel de la Paix. — Breakfast Knife. — Muni cipality. During the whole of the second day after our arrival, the town of Southampton was in a bustle, occasioned by the flocking in of a great number of French emigrants, who were returning to their own country in consequence of a mild decree which had been passed in their favour. The scene was truly interesting, and the sentiment which it excited delightful to the heart. A respectable cure, who dined in the same room with us at our inn, was observed to eat very little ; upon being pressed to enlarge his meal, this amiable man said, with tears starting in his eyes, " Alas ! I have no appetite ; a very *' short time will bring me amongst the scenes of f^ my nativity, my youth, and my happiness, from ID FRENCH EMIGRANTS. " which a remorseless revolution has parted me " for these ten long years ; I shall ask for those " who are dear to me, and find them for ever " gone : those who are left will fill my mind " with the most afflicting descriptions ; no, I can- " not eat, my good sir." About noon, these unfortunate exiles had de posited their baggage upon the quay, which formed a pile of old portmanteaus, and battered trunks. Parties remained to protect them, pre vious to their embarkation. The sun was in tensely hot, they were seated under the shade of tattered umbrellas, which looked as if they had been the companions of their banishment. Their countenances appeared strongly marked with the pious character of resignation, over which were to be seen a sweetness, and corrected animation, expressive of the heart's delight, upon returning to its native home, erected wherever it may be, and the regret of leaving a nation, which, in the hour of flight and misery, had nobly en rolled them in the list of her own children, and had covered thera with protection. To the eternal honour of these unhappy, but SCENE ON THE ClUAY OF SOUTHAMPTON, 1 1 excellent people, be it observed, that they have proved themselves worthy of being received into such a sanctuary. Our country has enjoyed the benefit of their unblemished morals, and their mild, polite, and unassuming manners, and wherever destiny has placed them, they have in dustriously relieved the national burden attending their support, by diffusing the knowledge of a lan guage which has in consequence become very general, and, from its great utility as well as beauty, ought to be considered as an important branch of education. To those of my friends, who exercise the sa cred functions of the established religion, I need not offer an apology, for paying a humble tribute of common justice to the expatriated French cler gy, who illustrate a mode of worship, a little dif fering in form, but terminating in the same great and glorious centre. The enlightened liberality of the British clergy will unite, in paying that ho mage to them, which they, in my presence, have often with enthusiasm, and rapture, offered up to the purity and sanctity of their characters. Many of thera informed me, that they had received the 12 SCENE ON THE QUAY OF SOUTHAMPTON.' most serviceable favours frora our clergy, admi nistered with equal delicacy and munificence. Amongst these groups were some females, the wives and daughters of Toulonese merchants, who left their city when lord Hood abandoned that port. The politeness and attention which were paid to them by the men were truly pleas ing. It was the good breeding of elegant Habits, retaining all their softness in the midst of adverr sity, sweetened by the sympathy of mutual and similar suffe«ugs. They had finished their dinner, and were drink ing their favourite beverage of coffee. Poor wan derers ! the water was scarcely turned brown with the few grains which remained of what they had purchased for their journey, I addressed them, by telling them, that I should have the happiness of being a passenger with them, in the same vessel; they said they were fortunate to have in their company one of that nation which would be dear to them as long as they lived. A genteel middle aged woman of fered to open a little parcel of fresh coffee, which she had purchased in the town for the voyage, SAIL FOR HAVRE. 13 and begged to make some for me. By her man ner, she seemed to wish me to consider it, more as the humble tribute of gratitude than of polite ness, or perhaps both were blended in the offer. In the afternoon, their baggage was searched by the revenue officers, who, on this occasion, exer cised a liberal gentleness, which gave but little trouble, and no pain. They who brought nothing into a country but the recollection of their mi series, were not very likely to carry much out of it but the remembrance of its generosity. At seven o'clock in the evening we were all on board, and sailed with a gentle breeze down the river : we carried with us a good stock of ve getables, which we procured fresh, from the ad mirable market of Southampton. Upon going down into the cabin, I was struck, and at first shocked, with seeing a very aged man, stretched at his length upon pillows and clothes, placed on the floor, attended by two clergymen, and some women, who, in their attentions to this apparently dying old gentleman, seemed to have forgotten their own comfortless situation, arising from so many persons being crowded in so small a space, for our numbers above and below amounted to i^ AGED FRENCH PRIEST. sixty. Upon inquiry, they informed me, that the person whose appearance had so affected me, had been a clergyman of great repute and esteem at Havre, that he was tben past the age of ninety- five years, scarcely expected to survive our short voyage, but was anxious to breathe his last in his own country. They spoke of him, as a man who, in other times, and in the vigour of his faculties, had often, from his pulpit, struck with terror and contrition the trembling souls of his auditors, by the force of his exalted eloquence ; who had em bellished the society in which he moved, with his elegant attainments; and who had relieved the unhappy, with an enlarged heart and munificent hand — A mere mass of misery, and helpless infir mities, remained of all these noble qualities ! During the early part of the night, we made but little way — behind, the dark shadowy line of land faded in mist ; before us, the moon spread a stream of silver light upon the sea. The soft stillness of this repose of nature was broken only by the rippling of the light wave against the head and sides of the vessel, and by the whistling of the helmsman, who, with the helm between his knees, and his arms crossed, alternately watching CONDUCT OF FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 15 the compass and the sail, thus invoked the pre sence of the favouring breeze. Leaving him, and some few of our unfortunate comrades, to whom the motion of the sea was more novel than gratifying, my companion and I descended into the steerage (for our births in the cabin were completely occupied by females). As we were going down the ladder, the appearance of so many recumbent persons, faintly distin guishable by the light of a solitary taper, re minded us of a floating catacomb ; here, crawling under a cot which contained two very corpulent priests, upon a spare cable, wrapt up in our own great coats, we resigned ourselves to rest. The next day, without having made much progress in our little voyage, we arose, and as sembled round the companion, which formed our breakfast table ; at dinner, we were enabled to spread a handsome table of refreshments, to which we invited all our fellow passengers who were capable of partaking of them, many of whom were preparing to take their scanty meal, removed from us at the head of the vessel. For this little act of common civility, we were afterwards abun- 16 THEIR GRATITUDE.— MAKE THE PObT OF HAVRE. dantly repaid, by the thankfulness of all, and the serviceable attentions of some of our agreeable guests, when we landed ; an instance of which I shall afterwards have occasion to mention. The wind slackened during the day, but in the evening it blew rather fresh, and about nine o'clock the next morning, after a night passed something in the same way as its predecessor, we were awak ened by being informed that Havre was within a league of us ; news by no means disagreeable, after the dead dulness of a sea calm. The appearance of the coast was high, rugged, and rocky ; to use a good marine expression, it looked ironbound all along shore. To the east, upon an elevated point of land, are two noble light houses, of very beautiful construction, which I shall have occasion to describe hereafter. At some little distance, we saw considerable fiisfhts of wild ducks. The town and bason lie round the high western point from the lights, be low which there is a fine pebbled beach. The quays are to the right and left within the pier, upon the latter of which there is a small round tower. It was not the intention of our packet PANIC OF THE EMIGRANTS. I? captain to anchor within the pier, for the purpose of saving the port anchorage dues, which amount to eight pounds sterling, but a government boat came off, and ordered the vessel to haul close up to the quay, an order which was given in rather a peremptory manner. Upon our turning the pier, we saw, as we warped up to the quay, an im mense motley crowd flocking down to view us. A panic ran throughout our poor fellow passen gers. From the noise and confu»ion on shore, they expected that some recent revolution had occurred, and that they were upon the point of experiencing all the calamities which they had before fled from ; they looked pale and agitated upon each other, like a timid and terrified flock of sheep upon the approach of a noisy and vo racious cur. It turned out, however, that mere curiosity, excited by the display of English co lours, had assembled this formidable rabble, and that the order which we received from the go-' vernment boat, was given for the purpose of com pelling the captain to incur, and consequently to pay, the anchorage dues. In a moment we were beset by a parcel of men and boys, half nakqd., c ^5 - tANDlNG OESCRIEED. and in wooden shoes, who hallooing and « sacre " dieuing " each other n^ost unmercifully, began, without further ceremony, to seize upon every trunk within their reach, which they threw into their boats lying alongside. By a well timed rap upon the knuckles of one of these officious functionaries, we prevented our luggage from sharing the sarae fate. It turned out, that there was a competition for carrying our trunks on shore, for the sake of an immoderate premium which they expected to receive, and which occasioned our being assailed in this vio lent manner. Our fellow passengers were obliged to go on shore with these vociferous watermen, who had the impudence and inhumanity to charge them two livres each for conveying them to the landing steps, a short distance of about fifty yards. Upon their landing, we were much pleased to observe that the people offered them neither violence nor insult. They were received with a sullen silence, and a lane was made for them to pass into the town. The poor old clergy man, who had survived the passage, was left on board, in the care of two benevolent persons, un- LANDING DESCRIBED. 19 ill he could be safely and comfortably conveyed on shore. We soon afterwards followed our fel low passengers in the captain's boat, by which plan we afforded these extortioners a piece of sa lutary information, very necessary to be made known to them, that, although we were English, we were not to be imposed upon. Upon our landing, arid entering the streets, I was a little struck with the appearance of the women, who were habited in a coarse red camlet jacket, with a high apron before, long flying lappets to their caps, and were mounted upon large heavy wooden ihoes, upon each of which a worsted tuft was fixed, in rude imitation of a rose. The appear ance and clatter of these sabOts, as they are called, leave upon the mind an impression of ex treme poverty and wretchedness. They are, however, more favoured than tbe lower order of females in Scotland. Upon a brisk sprightly chamber-maid entering my room one day at an inn in Glasgow, I heard a sound re sembling the pattering of some web-footed bird, in the act of climbing up the miry side of a pond. I looked down upon the feet of this bonny lassie, c 2 20 HOTEL DE LA PAIX. and found that their only covering was procured from the mud of the high street. — Adieu 1 to the tender eulogies of the pastoral reed I I have never thought of a shepherdess since with pleasure. I could not help observing the ease, dexterity, and swiftness, with which a single man conveyed all our luggage, which was very heavy, to the custom-house, and afterwards to the inn, in a wheelbarrow, differing from ours only in being larger, and in having two elastic handles of about nine feet long. At the custom-house, not withstanding what the English papers have said of the conduct of the revenue officers, we were very civilly treated, our boxes were only just opened, and some of our packages were not examined at all. Away we had them whirled to the Hotel de la Paix, the front of which looks upon the wet-' dock, and is embellished with a large board, upon which is recorded in yellow characters, as usual, the superior advantages of this house over every other hotel in Havre. Upon our arrival, we were ushered up a large dirty staircase into a lofty room, upon the first floor, all the windows of which were open, divided, as they always are in HOTEL DE LA PAIX. 21 France, in the middle, like folding doors; the floor was tiled ; a deal table, some common rush chairs, two very fine pier glasses, and chandeliers to correspond, composed our motley furniture. It was a good specimen of French inns in general. We were followed by our hostess, the porter, two cooks, with caps on their heads, which had once been white, and large knives in their hands, who were succeeded by two chamber-maids, all look ing in the greatest hurry and confusion, and all talking together, with a velocity and vehemence which rendered the faculty of hearing almost a misfortune. They appeared highly delighted to see us, talked of our dress, sir Sidney Smith, the blockade, the noble English, the peace, and a train of etceteras. At length we obtained a little' cessation, of which we immediately seized the advantage, by directing them to show us to our bed-rooms, to procure abundance of water hot and cold, to get us a good breakfast as soon at possible, and to prepare a good dinner for us as four o'clock. Amidst a peal of tongues, this cla morous procession retired. After we had performed our necessary ablu- '-^ BREAKFAST p.NIFE. tions, and had enjoyed the luxury of fresh linen, we sat down to some excellent coffee, accom panied with boiled milk, long, delicious rolls, and tolerably good butter, but found no knives upon the table ; which, by the bye, every traveller in France is presumed to carry with him : having mislaid my own, I requested the maid to bring me one. The person of this damsel would cer tainly have suffered by a comparison with those fragrant flowers to which young poets resemble their beloved mistresses; as soon as I had pre ferred my prayer, she very deliberately drew from her pocket a large clasp knife, which, after she had wiped on her apron, she presented to me, with a '* voila monsieur." I received this dainty present with every mark of due obligation, accom panied, at the same time, with a resolution not to use it, particularly as my companions (for we had two other English gentlemen with us) had di rected her to bring some others to them. This delicate instrument was as savoury as its mistress ; amongst the various fragrancies which it emitted, garlic seemed to have the mastery. About twelve o'clock we went to the hall of MUNICIPALITY. 23 the municipality, to procure our passports for the interior, and found it crowded with people upon the same errand. We made our way through them into a very handsome antiroom, and thence, by a little further perseverance, into an inner room, where the rfiayor and his ofiicers were seated at a large table covered with green cloth. To show what reliance is to be placed upon the communi cations of English newspapers, I shall mention the following circumstance : my companion had left England without a passport, owing to the repeated assurances of both the ministerial and opposition'prlnts, and also of a person high in ad ministration, that none were necessary. The first question propounded to us by the secretary was, " Citizens, where are your pass ports ? " 1 had furnished myself with one ; but upon hearing this question, I was determined not to produce it, from an apprehension that I should make my friend, who had none, an object of sus picion ; so we answered, that in England they were not required of Frenchmen, and that we had left our counh-y With official assurances that they would not be demanded of us In France, 24 MUNICIPALITY. They replied to us, by reading a decree which rigorously required them of foreigners entering upon the territories of the republic, and^they as sured us, that this regulation was at that moment reciprocal with every other power, and with En gland in particular. The decree of course closed the argument. We next addressed ourselves to their politeness (forgetting that the revolution had made sad inroads upon it), and requested them, as we had been misled, and had no other views of visiting the country, but those of pleasure, and improvement, that they would be pleased to grant us permission to proceed. To this address, these high authorities, who seemed not much given to " the melting mood," after making up a phy siognomy as severe and as ironbound as their coast, laconically observed, that the laws of the republic must be enforced, that they would write to our embassador to know who we were, and that in the mean time they would make out our passports for the town, the barriers of which we were not to pass. Accordingly, a little fat gentle man, In a black coat, filled up these official instru ments, which were copied into their books, and MUNICIPALITY. 25 both signed by us ; he then commenced our " sig- nalement," which is a regi^Jar descriptive portrait of the head of the person who has thus the honour of sitting to the municipal portrait painters of the departement de la Seine inferleure. This portrait Is intended, as will be Imme diately anticipated, to afford increased facilities to all national guards, marechaussees, thief-takers, &c. for placing In " durance vile " the unfortu nate original, should he violate the laws. The signalement Is added in the margin to the passport, and also registered in the municipal records, which, from their size, appeared to con tain a greater number of heads and faces, thus de picted, than any museum or gallery I ever beheld. How correct the likenesses In general are, I leave to the judgment of others, after I have in formed them, that tlie hazel eyes of my friend were described " yeux bleus " in this masterly de lineation. If the dead march in Saul had been playing before us all the way, we could not have moved more gravely, or rather sulkily, to our inn. Be fore us, we had the heavy prospect of spending 26 MUNICIPALITY. about ten days in this town, not very celebrated for either beauty, or cleanliness, until the munici pality could receive an account of us from our embassador, who knew no more of us than they did. The other English gentlemen were in the same predicament. However, we determined to pursue the old adage, that what is without remedy, should be without regret, and, English like, grew very merry over a good dinner, consisting of soups, and meat, and fowls, and fish, and vegetables, (for such is the order of a French dinner) confec tionary and a dessert, accompanied with good Bur gundy, and excellent Champaign. Our misfor tunes must plead our excuse, if the dinner is con sidered extravagant. Uncle Toby went to sleep when he was unhappy ; we solicited consolation in another way. Our signalements afforded us much diversion, which at length was a little aug mented by a plan for our liberation. After din ner I waited upon a young gentleman who was under the care of a very respectable merchant, to whom I had the good fortune to have letters of in troduction. Through his means I was introduced MUNICIPALITY. 27 to mons. de la M— — , who received me with great politeness. In the hurry and occupations of very extensive commercial pursuits, this amiable old gentleman had found leisure to indulge him self In works of taste. His noble fortune enabled him to gratify his liberal inclinations. I found him seated in his compting-house, which, from its handsome furniture and valuable paintings, re sembled an elegant cabinet. I stated the conduct of the municipality towards us, and requested his assistance. After he had shown me his apart ments, a fine collection of drawings, by some of the first masters, and some more excellent paint ings, we parted, with an assurance that he would immediately wait upon the mayor, who was his friend, and had no doubt but that he should in the course of the next day enable us to leave Havre when and in what manner we pleased. With this agreeable piece of intelligence, I im mediately returned to the inn, where it induced us to drink health and success to the friendly mer^ chant in another bottle of Champaign. 28 CHAPTER Iir. Passports procured. — Coins. — Town of Havre. — Carts. — . Citoj-en. — Honfleur. — Deserter . — Prefect de Marine. — • Ville de Sandwich. — French Farmers. — Sir Sidney Smith. — Catherine de Medicis. — Light Houses. — Rafts. If Havre had been a Paradise, the feelings of restraint would have discoloured the magic sce nery, and turned the perfumed bower to a leaf less wilderness. As we could relish nothing, until we had pro cured our release, the first place we visited the next morning was, once more, the residence of the municipality, where we found that our wor thy friend had previously arranged every thing to our wishes, and upon his signing a certificate, that We were peaceable citizens, and had no in tention of overturning the republic, our passports were made out, and upon an exchange of a little snuff, and a few bows, we retired. The other two Englishmen had their wishes gratified, by the COINS. 29 same lucky incident which had assisted us. Hav ing changed our guineas for French money, and as in future, when money is mentioned, it will be in the currency of the country, it perhaps may not be unacceptable to subjoin a table of the old, and new, and republican coins. For every guinea of full weight, which we carried over, we received twenty-four livres, or a louis-d'or, which is equal to twenty shillings sterling, of course we lost one shilling upon every good guinea, and more, according to the deficiency of weight. The course of exchange and commission with our country, 1 afterwards found at Paris, to be one shilling and eight pence, in the pound sterl ing, against us, but the difference will be pro gressively nearer par, as the accustomed relations of commerce resume their former habits. I was surprised to find the ancient monarchical coin in chief circulation, and that of the republic very confined. Scarce a pecuniary transaction can occur, but the silent and eloquent medallion of the unhappy monarch seems to remind these bewildered people of his fate, and iheir past mis fortunes. Although the country Is poor, all their 30 COINS. payments are made in cash ; this is owing to the" shock given by the revolution, to individual, and consequently to paper credit. To comprehend their money, it must be known, although the French always calculate by livres, as we do by pounds sterling, that the livre is no coin, but computation. MONARCHICAL COINS. GOLD. S. d. A louis d'or is twenty-four livres Frenclr, or . . . 20 0 Eng, SILVER. A grand ecu, or six livre piece, 5 O An ecu, or three livre piece, , 2 & The vingt quatre sols piece, , 1 O A douze sols piece is twelve pence French, or . . 0 6- A six sols piece is six pence French, or ^ ^ COINS. 31 COPPER MIXED WITH SILVER. A deux sols, or two pence French, and one penny English, is nearly the size of our sixpence, but is copper, with a white or silverlsh mixture ; twelve of these make a vingt quatre sols piece, or one shilling English. They have also another small piece, of nearly the same size and colour, but not so white, and rather thinner, which is one sol and a half, three halfpence French, or three farthings English. COPPER. A sol Is like our halfpenny, value one penny French, or a halfpenny English .; twenty-four of these make an English shilling. A deux Hard piece is half a sol French, or a farthing EngHsh. A Hard is a farthing French, and of the value of half a farthing English. NEW COIN. A thirty sols piece is a very beautiful and convenient coin, worth one shilling and three- 32 COINS. pence English, having a good impression of the late king's head on one side, and the goddess of liberty on the other; it was struck in the early part of the revolution. REPUBLICAN COIN. SILVER. A fifteen sols piece is half of the above, and very convenient. COPPER. A six Hard is a bit of copper composition, such as the fine cannon are made of, and is worth three sols French, or a halfpenny and a farthing English. A cinq centimes is worth a halfpenny and half a farthing English. The centimes are ofthe value of half farthings, five of which are equal to the last coin, they are very small and neat. An early knowledge of these coins is very ne cessary to a stranger, on account of the dishonest TOWN OF HAVRE. 33 advantages which French tradesmen take of their English customers. To return to my narrative : finding ourselves at liberty to pursue our route, we went from the municipality to the Bureau des diligences, and secured our places in the voi ture to Rouen, for the next day. After this necessary arrangement, we pro ceeded to view the town, which is composed of long and narrow streets. The fronts of the houses, which are lofty, are deformed by the wood of the framework being left bare, which produces a very heavy and mean appearance. The commerce formerly carried on at Havre, was very extensive ; it is still celebrated for its lace manufactories. The theatre is spacious, well arranged, and, as far as We could judge by day-light, handsomely decorated. The players did not perform during our stay. In the vege table market place, which was much crowded, and large, we saw at this season ofthe year abun dance of fine apples, as fresh in appearance as when first plucked (rom the tree. D 34 CITO YEN, In our way, we were accosted by a little ragged beggar boy, who addressed himself to our com passionate dispositions, by the" appellation of " tres-charit?ible citoyen" but finding we gave nothing, he immediately changed it to " mon cher tres-charitable monsieur." * The strange uncouth expression of dtoy^n is generally laid aside, except amongst the imme diate ofl5cers under government, in their official communications, who, howe"ver, renounce it in private, for the more civilised title of " mon sieur." The principal church is a fine handsome build ing,' and had been opened for worship the Sun day before we arrived : on that day the bell of the Sabbath first sounded, during ten years of revolution, infidelity, and bloodshed Hi The royal arms are every where removed. They formerly composed a very beautiful orna ment over the dooi- of the hotel of the present prefect, at the head of the market plaee, which has been rudely beaten out by battle axes, and replaced by crude republican emblems, which every where (I speak of them as a decoration) DESERTEIIS. — SIR SIDNEY SMITH. 35 seem to disfigure the buildings that bear them. When I made this remark, I must, however, can didly confess, that my mind very cordially ac companied my eye, and that sentiment mingled with the observation. The quays, piers, and arsenal are very fine ; they, together with the docks, for small ships of war and merchandize, were constructed under the auspices of Lewis XIV. with whom this port was a great favourite. We met several military delinquents working in heavy chains. They were dressed in rec? jackets and trowsers, which are supposed to increase their disgrace, on account of their composing the re-- gimental colour of their old enemy, the EngHsh, When my companion, who wore his regimentals, passed them, they all moved their caps to him with great respect, to his no little mortification. To the great injury ofthe commerce of Rouen, this town was most successfully blockaded, for near four years, by British commanders, during the late war, and particularly by Sir Sidney Smith. It was here, when endeavouring to cut out a vessel, which in point of value, and considera-i- tion, was unworthy of such an exposure, that this D 2 3C DESERtERS.— SIR SIDNEY SMITH, enterprising hero was made a prisoner of war. The inhabitants, who never speak of him but with emotions of terror, consider this event as the rash result of a wager conceived over wine. Those who know the character of Sir Sidney, will not impute to him such an act oi idle teme- rity. No doubt he considered the object as in- eluded in his duty, and it is only to be lamented, that during two lingering years of rigorous and cruel confinement in the dungeons of the late un happy sovereign, his country was deprived ofthe talents and valour of one, who, in a future period, upon the shores of Acre, so nobly filled up the gloomy chasm of suspended services, by the most heroic exploits, and who revenged, by a deed , of glory, those sufferings and indignities which were unknown to the magnanimous spirit of modern warfare, until displayed within the walls of a Prussian dungeon*. I shall hereafter have occasion to mention this extraordinary character, when I speak of his escape from the Temple, the real circumstances * The cruel imprisonment of La. Fayette is alhwied to. CATHERINE DE MEDICIS. 37 attending which are but little known, and which I received from an authority upon which the rea der may rely. Havre is not unknown to history. At the cele brated siege of it, in the time of Catherine de Medicis, that execrable princess distinguished herself by her personal intrepidity. It Is said, that she landed here in a galley, bearing the de vice of the sun, with these words In Greek, " I bring light, and fine weather" — a motto which 111 Corresponded with her conduct. With great courage, such as seldom enters the composition of cruel, and ferocious tyrants, she here on horseback, at the head of her army, ex posed herself to the fire of the cannon, Hke the most veteran soldiers, and betrayed no sym ptoms of fear, although the bullets flew about her in all directions. When desired by the duke de Guise, and the constable de Montmorenci, not to expose her person so much, the brave, but san guinary Catherine replied, " Have I not more to " lose than you, and do you^ think I have not as " much courage?" The walk, through la vlfle de Sandwich, to 33 PRfeF£CT -bE MARINE, the light houses. Which are about two miles from Havre, is very plea%ing. The path lay through flax and clover fields. In this part of the country, the farmers practise an excellent plan of rural economy, which is also used in Dorsetshire, and sonde few other counties, of confining their cattle by a string to a spot of pasture, until they have completely cleared it. Upon the hill, ascending to the cliffs, are seve ral very elegant chateaus and gardens, belonging -to the principal inhabitants of the town. Monsieur B , the prefect de marine, has a beautiful residence here. We were accidentally stopping at, his gate, to view the enchanting pro- ¦ specfs which it presented to -ms, when the polite- owner observed us, and with that amiability and civility, which still distinguish the descendants of the ancient families of rank in France, of which he is one, requested us to enter, and walked with us round his grounds, which were disposed with great taste. He afterwards conducted us to his elegant house, and gave us dried fruit, and ex cellent burgundy, after which we walked round the village to the Hght houses. From" him we < LIGHT HOUSES. 35 learned, that the farmers here, as in England, were very rapacious, and had amassed consider able wealth during the war. The approach to the light houses, through a row of elms, is very pleasant ; they stand upon an immense high per- pendicular cliff, and are lofty square buildings, composed of fine light brown free stone, the en trance is handsome, over which there is a good room, containing four high windows, and a lodg ing room for the people who have the care of the light, the glass chamber of which we reached, after ascending to a considerable height, by a curious spiral stone stair-case. The lantern is composed of ninety immense reflecting lamps, which are capable of being raised or depressed with great ease, by means of an iron windlass. This large lustre, surrounded with plates of the thickest French glass, is fixed in squares of iron, and discharges a prodigious light in dark nights. A furnace of coal was formerly used, but this has been judiciously superseded by the present in vention. Round the lantern, is a gallery with an iron balustrade ; the view from this elevation upon the beach, the entrance of the Seine, Honfleur, 40 HONFLEUR. ' (where our Henry III. fought the French armies, and distinguished himself by his valour) the di stant hills of Lower Normandy, and the ocean, is truly grand. It brought to my mind that beau tiful description of Shakspeare — -The murmuring surge That on th' unnumbered idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high : 111 look no more, Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. , We dlid not visit the Other tower, as it was uniform with this. The woman who has the charge of the light, was very, good humoured and equally talkative, she seemed delighted to show us every thing, and said she preferred seeing En glishmen in her tower as friends, to the view she frequently had of them from it as enemies, allud ing to the long and masterly blockade of this port by a squadron of English frigates. She carried us to her Httle museum, as she called it, where she had arranged, very neatly, a considerable- col lection of fossils, shells, and petrifactions. Here she showed us, with great animation, two British RAFTS. — CARTS. 41 cannon balls, which, during the blockade, had very nearly rendered herhusband and herself as cold and as silent as any of the petrifactions in her collection. In this little cabinet was her bed, where, amidst the war of winds and waves, she told us she slept as sound as a consul. In the basins of Havre, we saw several rafts, once so loudly talked of, constructed for the real or ostensible purpose of conveying the in vading legions of France to the shores of Great Britain. I expected to have seen an immense floating platform, but the vessels which we saw, were made like brigs of an unusual breadth, with two low masts. The sincerity of, this pro ject has been much disputed; but that the French government expended considerable sums upon the scheme, I have no doubt. I must not omit to mention the admirable mode, which they have here, and in most parts of France, of constructing their carts. They are placed upon very high wheels, the load Is gene rally arranged so as to create an, equipoise, and is raised by an axle, fastened near the shafts. I was informed by a merchant, that a single horse 42 ECOWOMIOAL HINT. can draw witli ease thirty-six hundred weight, in one of these carts. These anin^als have a for midable appearance, owing to a strange custom which the French have, of covering the collar with an entire sheep's skin, giving them the lion like appearance of having an enormous shaggy mane. At night, we found our bills amounted to forty livres each, a considerable charge in this country; but we had lived well, and had not thought it worth our while, on account of the probable shortness of our stay, to bargain for our lodging- and board, a plan very necessary to be followed. 43 CHAPTER IV. Cheap travelling to Paris.— Diligences. French Postilions. — Norman Horses. — Bolbec. — Natives of -Caux. — Ivetot. — Return of Religion. — Santerre. — Jaqobin. — The Mus tard-pot. — National Property. JdEFORE I proceed on my journey, I must beg leave to present a very cheap mode of travelling to Paris from Havre, to those who have more time at their command than I had, which was given to me by a very respectable gentleman, and an old traveller, Sols. From Havre to Honfleur, by the passage-boat 10 Frora Honfleur to Pontaudemar, by land - 3 From Pontaudemar to Labouille - - 3 From Labouille to Rouen, by water . - 12 From Rouen to Rolleboise, by land - - 6 From Rolleboise to Pontoise, by water - 30 From Pontoise to Paris, by land - - 30 This progress, however, is tedious, and occa^ sionally uncertain. 44 DILIGENCES. At day-break we seated oursekes In the dili- gence. All the carriages of this description have tbe appearance of being the result of the earliest efforts, in the art bf coach building: a more un couth clumsy machine can scarcely be imagined. In the front is a cabriolet fixed to the body of the coach, for the accommodation of three passen gers, who are protected from the rain above, by the projecting roof of the coach, and by two heavy curtains of leather, well oiled, and smelling some what offensively, fastened to the roof. ¦ The in side, which is capacious and lofty, and will hold six people with. great comfort, is lined with leather padded, and surrounded with little pockets, in which the travellers deposit their bread, snuff, night-caps, and pocket handkerchiefs, all merrily meeting in the same delicate depositary. From the roof depends a large net work, which is gene rally crowded with hats, swords, and band boxes; the whole is convenient, and' when all parties are seated and arranged, the accommodations are by no means unpleasant. Upon the roof. On the outside, is the imperial, f^enerally occupied by six or seven persons, and a FRENCH POSTILIONS. 43 heap of luggage; the basket is also filled with luggage, and presents a pile half as high again as the coach, secured by ropes and chaln.s, tightened by a large iron windlass, a constant appendage of this moving mass: the body of the carriage rests upon large thongs of leather, fastened to heavy blocks of wood, instead of springs, and the whole is. drawn by seven horses; the three first being fastened to the cross bar, the rest in pairs, and all In rope harness and tackling. The near horse of the three first, is mounted by the postilion in his great jack boots, which are always placed, with much ceremony, Hke two tubs, on the right side of his Rosinante, just before he ascends. These curious protectors of his legs, are composed of wood, and iron hoops, softened with in by stuffing, and give him all the dignity of riding in a pair of upright portmanteaus. With a long lash whip in his hand, a dirty night-cap and an old cocked hat upon his head, hallooing altef^ nately " a gauche, a droit," and a (&vf occasional sacre dieus, which seem always properly applied, and perfectly understood, the merry postilion drives along his cattle. I must not fail to do jus tice to the scientific skill with which he manages^ 4fi FRENCH POSTILIONS. on horseback, his long and heavy coach whip; with this commanding instrument, he can reanl.- mate, by a touch, each halting muscle of his lag ging animals, can cut off an annoying fly, and with the loud cracking of its thong, ke announces, upon his entrance into a town, the approach of his heavy and clattering cavalcade. Each of these diHgences is provided with a Conducteur, who rides upon the imperial, and is responsible, throughout the journey, fbr the comfort of the passengers and safety of the luggage. For his trouble the passenger pays him only thirty sols, and fifteen more for the different postiHons, to be divided amongst them; for these the donor is thanked with a low bow, and many " bien ob- li^s," in the name of himself and his contented comrades. Our compsfnions proved to be some of our ©Id friends the emigrants, who had thrown aside their marine dishabille, and displayed the appearance of gentlemen : we were of course much pleased with again meeting each other. Their conversa tion upon the road was very intej-esting, it was filled with sincere regret for the afflictions of their country, and with expressions of love and grati- NORMAN HORSES. 47, tude towards the English: they told us many little tales of the politeness and humanity which they had received from my countrymen in the va rious places where their destiny had placed them. One displayed, with amiable pride, a snuff-box, which he had received as a parting token of esteem,_another a pocket book, and each was the bearer of some little affectionate proof of merit, good conduct, or friendship. One of these gentlemen, the abbe de I'H , whose face was full of expression, tinctured with much grief, and attendant indisposition, with a manner, and in a tone, which were truly affecting, concluded a little narrative of some kindness which he had received, by saying, " if the En- " glish and my country are not friends, it shall not " be for want of my prayers. 1 fled from France " without tears, for the preservation of my life, *• but when I left England, I confess it, I could " not help shedding many." Such sentiments did not disgrace the generous abbe — such a nation is- worthy of such feelings. Our horses were of the Norman breed, small, stout, short, and full of spirit, and to the honour ii EOLEEC. of those who have the care of them, in exceHent condition, I was surprised to see these little ani mals running away with our cumbrous machine, at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. We traced the desolating hand of the revolu tion as soon as we, ascended the first hill. Our road lay through a charming country : upon the sides of whose acclivities, surrounded by the most romantic scenery of woods and corn fieldvS, we saw ruined convents, and roofless vil lage churches, through the shattered casements of which tbe wind had free admission. We breakfasted at a neat town called Bolbec, seven leagues from Havre, where we had excel lent coffee, butter, and rolls. All the household of our inn looked clean, happy, and sprightly. This is the principal town of the province of Caux, the women of which dress their heads In a very peculiar, and. In my humble opinion,- unbe coming manner. I raade a hasty sketch pf one of, them, who entered the yard of the inn with apples for sale. Such a promontory of cap and lace I never before beheld. She had been at a village mar- NATIVES OF CAUX. 49 riage that morning, and was bedecked in afl her finery. The people of this province are indus trious and rich, and consequently respectable. At the theatre at Rouen I afterwards saw. In one of the front boxes, a lady from this country, dressed after its fashion ; her singularity induced me to distinguish her from the rest of the au dience, but excited- no curiosity with any other person. Our breakfast cost us each fifteen sous, to which may be added two sols more for the maids, who waited upon us with cheerful smiles, in the full cushvois costume ; our two sols also entitled us to kisses and curtsies. I beg leave to oppose our breakfast charge, and our subsequent expenses, to the rumours which prevailed in En gland, of this part of France being then in a State of famine. From this town, the road was beau tifully lined with beech, ehesnut, a.nd apple trees. The rich yellow of the rape seed, that overspread the surface of many of the fields on each side, was very animating to fhe eye : from this vege- table, the country people express oil, and of the pulp of it make cakes, which the, Norman horses 50 IVETOT. will fatten upon. We had an early dinner at Ive tot, five leagues distant from Bolbec, In ancient periods this miserable town was once the capital of a separate kingdom. In our dining room were three beds, or rather we dined in the bed room. I use the former expression out of compliment to the pride of our little host, who replied with some loftiness to one of our companions, who, upon entering the room, and seeing so many accommo dations for repose, exclaimed, with the sharpnessN .of appetite, " my good host, we want to eat, and >" not to sleep ; " — " Gentlemen," said our morti fied little maitre d'hotel, " this chamber is the di- " ning room, and it is thought a yery good one." From its appearance, I should have believed him had he sworn that it was the state room of the -palace of this ancient principality, of which this wretched town was once the capital. It reminded me of an anecdote mentioned in the memoir of an ancient English lady of fashion, when she first paid her respects to James I, soon after his accession to the crown of England, ofthe royal drawing room being so very dirty, that after THE MUSTARD-POT. 51 the levee she was obliged to recur to her comb for relief. In plain truth, James I. and his court were lousy. At dinner our master of the house was both cook and waiter; and, amongst several other dishes, having some stewed beef, I preferred a pe tition to our host for a little mustard, to which he solemnly replied, "lam very sorry, citizen, but " I have none ; I wish you had been fortunate " enough to have been here about three weeks " since, you might have had some." It was more than I wished, so I ate my beef very contentedly without it. With our dessert we had a species of cake called brioche, composed of egg, flour, and water; It is in- high estimation in France. It was In this town only that I saw a speci men of that forlorn wretchedness and importunity, which has been very incorrectly said to be general throughout this country. In the shop of a brazier, a new leaden cruci fix, about two feet and a half high, was exposed to sale; it had been cast preparatory to the rein- auguratlon of the archbishop of Rouen, whicb E 2 52 ' .JACOBINSi was to take place upon the next Sunday week, in the great cathedral of that city. In consequence of the restoration of reHglon, the beggars, who have, in general,, considerable cleverness, and know how to turn new circium- stances to advantage, had just learned afresh mode of soliciting money, by repeating the Lord's Prayer in French and Latin. We were treated with this sort of importunate piety for near a mile, after we left Ivetot. I have before mentioned, that the barbaroiis jargon of the revolution is rapidly passing away : it is only occasionally that its sHmy track is per-^ ceptible. The time is not very distant when Frenchmen wished to be known by the name of Jacobins ; only, not to be a Jacobin was to be every thing but what was reputable ; it is now become an appellation of reproach, even amongst the surviving aborigines of the revolution : as an. instance of it, a naval ofiicer of rank and intelli gence, who joined us at Ivetot, informed us, that he had occasion, upon some matters of business,^ to meet Santerre a few days before, that inhumaa SANTERRE. ' 53 and vulgar revolutionist, who commanded the na tional guards when they surrounded the scaffold during the execution of their monarch ; in the course of their conversation, in speaking of a third person, Santerre exclaimed, " I cannot bear that man ; he is a Jacobin." Bravo ! thou execrable changeling ! ! This miscreant lives unnoticed, in a little vil lage near Paris, upon a slender Income, which he has made in trade, not in the trade of blood; for it appears that Robespierre was not a very liberal patron of his servants. He kept his blood-hounds lean and keen, and poorly fed them with the rankest offal. After a- dusty journey, through a very rich and picturesque country, of near eighty miles, we en tered the beautiful boulevards * of Rouen, about seven o'clock in the evening, which embowered us fi"om the sun, the shade of v/hich was deli cious ; they are finer than those of Paris : their noble elms, planted in four stately rows, are all nearly ofthe same height. Judge of my surprise — Upon our rapidly turning the corner of a street, * Environs of a town, planted with stately trees. 54 NATIONAL PROPERTY. as we entered the city, I suddenly found coach, horses, and afl, in the aisle of an ancient catholic church. The gates were closed upon us, and in a moment, from the busy buzzing of the streets, we were translated into the silence of shattered tombs, and the gloom of cloisters : the only light which shone upon us, issued through fragments of stained glass, and apertures formerly filled with it. My surprise, however, was soon satisfied, by being informed, that this church, having devolved to the nation as its property, by force of a revolu tionary decree, had been afterwards sold for stables, to one of thp owners of the Rouen dili gences. An old unsaleable cabriolet occupied the place of the altar; and the horses were very quietly eating their oats in the sacristy ! ! At the Bureau, we paid twelve livres and a half for our places and luggage from Havre to this town. 55 CHAPTER V. A female Fib.— Military and Civil Procession. — ^Madame G. — The Review.— Mons. ]'Abb6. — Bridge of Boats. — The Quay. — Exchange. — Theatre.— -Rouen.— Cathedral. — St. Ouens. — Prince of Waldec. — Maid of Orleans. xIAVING collected together all our luggage, and seen it safely lodged in a porter's wheelbar row. Captain C. and I bade adieu to our fellow travellers, and to these solemn and unsuitable ha bitations of ostlers and horses, and proceeded through several narrow streets, lined with lofty houses, the shops of which were all open, and the shopkeepers, chiefly women, looking respectable and sprightly, with gay bouquets in their bosoms, to the Hotel de I'Europe ; it Is a fine inn, to which we had been recommended at Havre, kept by Madame F , who, with much politeness, and many captivating movements, dressed a-la-Grec, with immense golden earrings, approached us, and gave us a Httle piece of information, not very ^^ A FEMALE FIB. pleasant to travellers somewhat discoloured by the dust of a long and sultry day's journey, who wanted comfortable rooms, fresh linen, a little coffee, and a good night's repose ; namely, that her house was comf)lete]y full, but that she would send to an upholsterer to fit up two beds for us, in a yery ueat roora, which she had just papered and furnished, opposite to the porter's lodge— an appendage always to be found in all the great inns and respectable houses in France. As we wished to have three rooms, we told her, we were friends of Messrs. G 1^, the principal mer chants of JRouen. She said, they were very ami- able men, and were pleased to send all, their friends to her house (a little French fib of Ma dame F 's, by the tye, as will appear here after); and she was truly sorry that she eould not accommodate us better. We looked into the room, which also looked into the street, was ex posed to all Its noise, and very smaH : so we made our bows to Madame F , and proceeded with our wheel-barrow to the Hotel de Poitiers— a ri^ val house, which is. situated in the beautiful boulevards already mentioned, and is part of a A FEMALE FIB. 57 row of fine stone-built houses : upon our ringing the bell, Madame P presented herself; we told her we were just arrived at Rouen, that we had the honour of being known to Messrs. G , and should be happy to be under her roof, and wished to have two lodging rooms and a sitting room to ourselves. Madame P , who pos sessed that sort of good and generous heart, which Nature, for Its better preservation no doubt, had lodged in a comfortable envelope of comely plumpness, observed, that Messrs. G were gentlemen of great respectability, were her patrons, and always sent their friends to her house (a point upon which tbese rival dames were at issue, but the truth was with Madame P .) ; that she would do all in her power to make us happy ; but at present, on account of her house being very much crowded, she could only offer us two bed-rooms. We were too. tired to think of any further peregrinations of discovery ; so we entered our bed-rooms, which, like most of the chambers in France, had brick floors without any carpeting; they were, however, clean; and,. 58 MILITARY AND CIVIL PROCESSION. after ordering a good fire in one of them to repel the effects of the sudden and unusual frost, whicb, although the middle of summer was advanced, committed melancholy ravage throughout Europe at this time ; and, after enjoying those comforts which weary wanderers require, we mounted our lofty beds, and went to rest. The next day we presented our letter and ourselves to Madame G- , the amiable mother ofthe gentlemen I have mentioned, who received us with great politeness, and immediately arranged a dinner party for us. It being rather early in the morning, we were admitted into her bed chamber, a common custom of receiving early visits in France. About eleven o'clock we saw a splendid pro cession of all the military and civil authorities to the hotel* of the prefect, which was opposite to our inn. The object of this cavalcade was to congra tulate the archbishop of Rouen (who was then * Hotel, in France, means either an inn, or private house, of consequence. REVIEW. 59 upon a visit to the prefect, until his own palace was ready to receive him) upon his elevation to the see. This spectacle displayed the interference of God, in thus making the former enemies of his worship pay homage to his ministers, after a long reign of atheism and persecution. About twelve o'clock, the hour of parade throughout the republic, we went to the Champ de Mars, and saw a review of the 20th regi ment of chasseurs, under the command of generals St. Hillare and Ruffin, who, as well as the regiment, had particularly distinguished them selves at Marengo. The men wore mustachios, were richly ap pointed, and in general well mounted : they were just arrived from Amiens, where, as a mark of honour, they had been quartered during the negotiation. The officers were superbly attired. St. Hillare is a young man ; in person, and it is said In abili ties also, he much resembles his patron, and friend, the first consul. Some of the horses were of a dissimilar size 60 MONS. l'ABBE.-ttMADAME G. and colour, which had a bad effect ; but I was informed, upon making the remark, that they had lost many In battle, and had not had time pro perly to replace them ; but they were aU strong and fiery, ^.nd went through their evolutions with surprising swiftness. At dinner our party was very agreeable : a little abbe sat next to me, who appeared to be in years, but fuU of vivacity, and seemed to be much esteemed by every person present. During the time of terror (as the French emphatically call the gloomy reign of Robespierre), the blood of this good man, who, from his wealth, piety, and munificence, possessed considerable influence in Rouen, was sought after with keen pursuit*, Madame G was the protectress of his life, by concealing hira, previous to her own imprison ment, for two years, in different cellars, under her house, which she rendered as warm and as comfortable as circumstances, and the nature of the concealment, would allow. In one of these cells of humane secresy, this worthy man has often eaten his solitary and agitated meal, whilst Jhft soldiers of the tyrant, who were quartered in BRIDGE OF BOATS. 61 the house, were carousing in the kitchen imme diately above him. Soon after our coffee, which, in this country, immediately succeeds the dinner, we went to view the bridge of boats, so celebrated in history. This curious structure was contrived by an Au gustine friar named Michael Bougeois : it is com posed of timber, regularly paved, in squares which contain the stones, and is about 1000 * feet in length ; it commences from the middle of the quay of Rouen, and reaches over to the Fauxbourg of St Sever, and carries on the com munication with the country which lies south of the city. It was begun in the year 1626 ; below it are the ruins of the fine bridge of 12 arcbes, ' built by the empress Maud, daughter of Henry L of England. This ingenious fabric rests upon 19' immense barges, which rise and fall with the flowing and subsiding of the tide. When vessels- have occasion to pass it, a portion ofthe platform sufficient to admit their passage is raised, and roHed over the other part. In the winter, whei*. any danger is apprehended from the large flakes '* Th« French feet are to the English aa 106S to 1000- 62 THE GUAY, t Z of ice, which float down the river, the whole is . taken to pieces in an hour. The expense of keep ing it in repair Is estimated at 10,000 liVres, or 400 pounds sterling per annum, and is defrayed by government, it being the high road to Picardy. Upon the whole, although this bridge is so much adriiired, I must confess it appeared > to me a heavy performance, unsuitable to the wealth and splendour of the city of Rouen, and below the taste and ingenuity of modern times. A handsome light stone structure, with a centre arch covered with a drawbridge, or a lofty flying iron bridge, would be less expensive, more safe, and much more ornamental. The view from this bridge up the Seine, upon the islands below mount St. Catherine, is quite enchanting. Upon the quay, although it was Suriday, a vast number of people were dancing, drinking, and attending shows and lotteries: here foreigners from various parts of the Con tinent, parading up and down in their national habits and dresses, produced quite the effect of a lively masquerade. The river Seine is so deep at this place, that ships of three hundred tons bur- THE EXCHANGE;— THEATRE. 63 den are moored close to the quay, and make a very fine appearance. The Exchange for the merchants is parallel with the centre of the qu4y, and is a long paved building of about 400 feet in length, open at top, having a handsome iron balustrade, and seats towards the Seine, and a high stone wall towards the town. Over all the great gates of the city, is written, in large cha racters, " Liberty, Equality, Humanity, Fra ternity or Death :" the last two words have been painted over, but are still faintly legible. In the evening we went to the French opera, which was very crowded. The boxes were adorned with genteel people, and many beautiful young women. The theatre is very large, elegant, and handsome, and the players were good. I was struck with the ridiculous antics and gestures of the chef in the orchestra, a man whose ofiice it Is to beat time to the musicians. In the mu- ,niclpallty box, which vvas in the centre, lined with ,green silk, and gold, were two fine young women who appeared to be ladles of fashion and con sequence : they were dressed after the antique, in an attire which, for lightness, and scantiness. 84 ROUEN. I never saw equalled, till I saw it surpassed at Paris. They appeared to be clothed only in jewels, and a little muslin, very gracefully dis posed : the latter, to borrow a beautiful ex pression, had the appearance of " woven air."— From emotions of gratitude, for the captivating display which they raade, I could not help offer ing a few fervent wishes, that the next day might find them preserved from the dreaded doiisequences of a very bitter cold night. Rouen, which, upOn the whole, is a fine city, and very large and populous, was formerly the capital of the kingdom of Normandy : it stands upon a plain, screened on three sides by high and picturesque mountains, and is near two leagues in compass, exclusive of the fauxboufgs of St. Severs, Cauchoise, Bouveul, St. Hillare, Mar- tainvllle and Beauvlsme, Its commerce was very celebrated, and since the peace is beginning again to rear its head. Most of the fine build ings in this city and its environs are Anglo-Nor man antiquities, and were founded by the En glish before they left Normandy. The cathedral, which is a grand and awful ^ V ^ CATHEDRAL. 65 pile of Gothic architecture, was built by our William the Conqueror, pv": has two towers, one of which is surmounted by a wooden spire co vered with lead, and Is of the prodigious height of 395 French feet, the other is 236 feet high. The want of uniformity in these towers pro duces an unfavourable effect. During the re volution, this august edifice was converted into a sulphur and gunpowder manufactory, by which impious prostitution, the pillars are defaced and broken, and the whole is blackened and dingy. The costly cenotaphs of white marble, en riched with valuable ornaments, containing the hearts of two of our kings of England, and dukes of Normandy, formerly placed on each side of the grand altarpiece, were removed dur ing the revolution. The altarpiece is very fine. Grand prepara tions were making for the inauguration of the archbishop, which was to take place the follow ing Sunday. There were not many people at mass ; those who were present appeared to be chiefly composed of decrepid old women, an,d 66 ST. OUENS. young children. Over the charity box, fastened to one of the pillars,; was a board upon which was written In large letters, " Hospices recon- noissance et prosperite a I'homrae genereux et sensible." I saw few people affected by this be nedictory appeal. I next visited the church of St. Ouens, which is not so large as the cathedral, but surpasses It in point of elegance. This grace ful pile has also had its share of sufferings dur ing the reign of revolutionary barbarism. Its chaste and elegant pillars have been violated by the smoke of sulphur and wood ; and, in many places, present to the distressed eye chasms pro duced by massy forges, which were erected against them for casting ball. The costly ralHng of brass, gilt, which half surrounded the altar, has been torn up, and melted into cannon. The large circular stained window over the entrance called La Rose du Portall is very beautiful, and wholly unimpaired. The organs in all the churches are broken and useless. They experienced this fate in consequence of their having been considered fanatical instruments during the time of terror. ST. OUENS. — PRINCE OF WALDEC. fi/ The fine organ of St. Ouens Is in this predica ment, and will require much cost to repair it*. I cannot help admiring the good sense which in all the churches of France is displayed, by placing the organ upon a gallery over the grand entrance, by which the spectator has an unin terrupted view, and commands the whole length of the interior building. In the EngHsh cathe drals it is always placed midway between the <;hoir and church, by which this desired effect is lost. — St. Ouens is now open for worship. In spite of all the devastations of atheistic VandaHsm, this exquisite building, like the holy cause to which it is consecrated, having withstood the assaifing storm, and elevating its meek but magnificent head above its enemies, is mildly ready to receive them into her bosom, still dis figured with the traces of blind and barbarous ferocity. Behind the altar I met the celebrated prince of Waldec, who, possessed of royal honours and * The ornaments of the churches of England experienced a similar fate from the commissioners of the Long Parliament, in 1643. F 2 68 MAID OF ORLEANS. ample doraalns, revolted in the day of battle from his imperial master, and joined the victori ous and pursuing foe. I beheld him in a shaded corner of one of the cloisters of St. Ouens, in poor attire, with an old umbrella under his arm, scantily provided for, and scarcely noticed by his neio friends. A melancholy, but just ex ample of the rewards due to treachery and de sertion. I have described these churches only gene rally ; it cannot be expected of me to enter into an elaborate history of them, or of any other public edifices. The detail, if attempted, might prove dull, and is altogether incompatible with the limited time, and nature of my excursion. After we left St. Ouens, we visited the Square aux Vaux, where the celebrated heroine of Lor- raln, Joan d'Arc, comraonly called the Maid of Orleans, was cruelly burnt at the stake, for a pretended sorceress, buit In fact to gratify the barbarous revenge of the Duke of Bedford, the then regent of France ; because, after signal successes, she conducted her sovereign, Charles, in safety to Rheims, where he was crowned, and MAID OP ORLEANS. 69 obtained decisive victories over the English arms. We here saw the statue . erected by the French to the meraory of this remarkable woman, which, as an object of sculpture, possesses nothing wor thy of notice. 70 CHAPTER VI. First Consul's Advertisement. — Something ridiculous. — Eggs. • — Criminal Military Tribunal. — French Female Confidence. — Town House.— Convent of Jesuits. — Guillotine. — Go vernor W , U PON looking up against the corner wall of a street, surrounded by particoloured advertise ments of quack medicines, wonderful cures, new invented essences, judgments of cassation, re wards for robbers, and bills ofthe opera, I beheld Bonaparte's address to the people of France, the object of which was to procure the election of First Consulship for life. If the Spanish proverb of " tell me with whom you are, and I will tell " you what you are," were to be applied in this instance, I fear the result would not be very re putable to the Consular application. A circumstance occurred at this time, re specting this election, which was rather ridiculous, and excited considerable mirth at Paris. Upon the first appearance of the election book of the EGGS. — CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. 71 first consul in one of the departments, some wag. Instead of subscribing his name, immediate ly under the title of the page, " shall Napoleon " Bonaparte be first consul for life ?" wrote the following words, " I can't teU." This trifling affair reached Mal Malson with great speed, but is said to have occasioned no other sensa tion there than a little merriment. Carnot's bold negative was a Httle talked of, but as It was solitary, it was considered harmless. To the love of finery, which the French still retain to a certain degree, I could alone attribute the gay appearance of the eggs in the market, upon which had been bestowed a very smart stain of lilac colour, the effect of which was so singular that I could not help noting it down. On the third day after our arrival in this city, we attended the trial of a man who belonged to one of the banditti which Infest the neighbouring country. The court was held in the hall of the ancient parHament house, and was composed of three civil judges (one of whom presided) three military judges, and two citizens. The arrange ments of the court, which was crowded, were 72 CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. excellent, and afforded uninterrupted accommo dations to all its members, who had separate doors and passages allotted to them, and also to the people, who were permitted to occupy the large area In front, which gradually rose from the seats of the persons belonging to the court, and enabled every spectator to have a perfect view of the whole. Appropriate moral mottoes were in scribed in characters of gold upon the walls. The judges wore long laced bands, and robes of black, lined with light blue silk, with scarfs of blue and silver fringe, and sat upon an elevated simicircular bench, raised upon a flight of steps placed in a large alcove, lined with tapestry. The secretaries and subordinate officers were seated below them. On the left the prisoner was placed, without irons, in the custody of two gen darmes, formerly called marechaussees, who had their long swords drawn. These soldiers have a very military appearance, and are a fine and valuable body of men. I fear the respectable impression which I would wish to convey of them will suffer, when I inform my reader, that they are servants of the police, and answer to our Bow-street runners. CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. 73 The swiftness with which they pursue and ap prebend offenders is surprising. We were re ceived with politeness, and conducted to a con venient place for hearing and seeing all that passed. The accusateur general, who sat on the left, wore a costume similar to that of the judges, without the scarf. He opened the trial by re lating the circumstances, and declaiming upon the enormity of the offence : by which It appeared that the prisoner stood charged with robbery, ac companied with breach of hospitality ; which. In this country, be the amount of the plunder ever so trifling. Is a capital offence. The address of the accuser was very florid and vehement, ac companied by impassioned action, which was occasionally graceful. Normandy has ,the reputa tion of producing the most eloquent advocates in France : I have heard several of them, and they always appeared to me to be too violent in their manner, which sometimes borders upon that of phrensy. He ransacked his language to furnish himself with reproachful epithets against the miserable wretch by the side of him ; who, with his hands in his bosom, appeared to listen to him 74 CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. with great sang frold. The witnesses, who were most wisely kept separate previous to their giving their evidence, were numerous, and proved many robberies against him, attended with aggravated breaches of hospitality. The court entered into proofs of offences committed by the prisoner at different periods, and upon different persons. The women who gave their testimony, exhibited a striking distinction between the timidity of EngHsh females, confronting the many eyes of a crowded court of justice, and the calm self possession with which they delivered their testimony. The charges were clearly proved, and the prisoner upon being called upon for his defence, undismayed, and with all the practised hardihood of an Old Bailey felon, calmly declared, that he purchased the pile of booty produced in the court, for sums of money, the amount of which he did not then know, of persons he could not name, and in places which he did not remember. He had no advocate, and was followed by the public accuser, who made a long speech in reply to the defence. The court retired, the criminal was reconducted to the prison behind the hall; and after an absence CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. 75 of about twenty minutes, a bell rang to announce the return of the judges; the prisoner re-entered, escorted by a file of national guards, to hear his fate, upon which the president addressed the un happy man, very briefly recapitulated his offences, and read the decree of the republic upon the conviction of thera, by which he dooraed him to lose his head at four o'clock that afternoon. It was then ten minutes past one ! 1 The face of this wretched being presented a fine subject for the pencil ; for such a pencil as in thy hand Westall ! is capable of calling forth the best feel ings of our nature. His countenance was dark, marked, and melancholy : over which was spread the sallow tint of long imprisonment : his beard was unshorn, and throughout he displayed an in difference to his fate which not a little surprised me. He immediately retired, and upon his re turn to his cell, a priest Was sent for to prepare him for his doom. At present, in the provinces, all criminal offences are tried before military tri bunals, qualified, as I have described this to be, by a mixture of civil judges and bourgeois. It Is one of the peculiar characteristics of such 76 CRIMINAL MILITARY TRIBUNAL. tribunals to order Immediate punishment after conviction. In the present instance the fate of the offender was well known, for his crimes were many and manifest ; and as the interval allowed by military courts between the sentence and its fulfilment Is so very short, the administrators of the law had postponed his trial for five months from the period of his commitment, for the pur pose of affording him an Indulgent procrastina tion. This mode, although arising from merciful motives, is, I am aware, open to objection ; but it would be unfair to comment upon laws which prevailed in tiraes of revolution, and are permitted only to operate until the fine fabric of French criminal jurisprudence, which is now construct ing, shall be presented to the people. To the honour of our country, and one of the greatest ornaments of the British bar, the Honourable T. Erskine (now Lord High Chancellor), in the year 1789, furnished the French with a masterly out line of a code of criminal laws, impossible to be perfected during the long sera of convulsion and instability that followed, and which wIH constitute a considerable part of that great and humane TOWN HOUSE. 77 systera about to be bestowed upon the nation, as one of the greatest blessings that human wisdom can confer upon human weakness. The foundation of this system, I was Informed, with many wise improvements, resembled our own ; particularly. In the trial by jury, it Is pro vided that the contumacy of one juryman shall not be able to coerce the minds of his brethren : it is free the from folly of expecting an unanimous opinion from twelve men, and the verdict Is left to the majority of opinions. After the court had broken up, I visited the Town House, which, before the revolution, was the monastery of the Benedictines, who, from what appeared of the remains of their establish ment, raust have been raagnlficently lodged, and well served, during their existence,, to bear the name of the Blessed. The two great stair cases are very fine, and behind there is a noble garden. Upon entering the vestibule of the council chamber, formerly the refectory, 1 thought I was going behind the scenes of a theatre, for It was nearly fiHed with allegorical banners, paste board and canvas arches of triumph, altars, em- 78 TOWN HOUSE. — CONVENT OF JESUITS. bleras of liberty and despotism, and all the scenic decorations suitable to the phrensied orgies of a republican fete. Thank God ! they appeared to be tolerably well covered with dust and cobwebs. At the end of this noble room, seated upon a high pedestal, was the goddess of liberty, beautifully executed In marble. " Look at that sanguinary " prostitute," cried Mons. G to me, point ing to the statue, " for years have we had liberty *' and bloodshed, thank Heaven I we are now no " longer/red'." Upon which he wrote his name in the first consul's book, which was here lying open, upon a table, for the purpose of receiving the suffrages of the department. The laconic irony, and manner of the speaker, afforded me a tolerably good display of the nature of the blessings conferred upon the French by their late political philosophy . a philosophy that perpetrated the most cruel deeds in the name of Humanity, and issued. the raost tyrannous decrees under the seal of Liberty. From this place I proceeded to the ci-devant convent of the Jesuits, built by one of the mu nificent dues de Bourbon. It Is a magnificent CONVENT OF JESUITS. 79 oblong stone building. In the centre of the court was a tree of liberty, which, like almost all the other trees dedicated to that goddess, which I saw, looked blighted and sickly. I mention it as a fact; they did not fade in ray wish, or my imagi nation, I mention the circumstance without being influenced by any political sentiment whatever. It is a remark in frequent use In France, that the caps of liberty are without heads, and the trees of liberty without roots. The poplar has been selected from all the other trees of the forest, for this distinguished honour, from a whimsical sy nonymy of its name with that of the people. In French the poplar is called peuplier, and the word peuple signifies people. This fine building is now converted into an university of learning and the fine arts. From the number of the students, I should suppose the fashionable fervour of study had not as yet reached Rouen. The professor of philosophy, with great po liteness, sent a young raan to show me the museum of pictures, for which purpose the church of the Jesuits is at present used. There are several paintings in It : the only fine one was a dying 80 CONVENT OF JESUITS. .Jesus, by Vandyke, which was exquisite. Upon my expressing my admiration, a young student near rae said, " Oul, monsieur, c'est tres jolie." But every thing that strikes or pleases In France is tres jolie. From this painting I was, by im portunity, led to view the other parts of the col lection, v.'hich were composed of large pictures, by French masters ; and so natural Is local pre judice every where, that I was almost held down before the works of the best artists of Rouen, upon which, as I ara at liberty here, I shall beg to make no comment. In the students' room, below, were some curious paintings, valuable only from their great antiquity, and a few good copies by the pupils. A picture was pointed out to me as a very fine thing, the subject was a fat little cherub, with a fuH flowing wig, fiddling to St. Francis ; who, from his gloomy appearance, seemed not to possess half the musical genius of a dancing bear. Upon my return through the market place, I beheld the miserable wretch, at whose trial I was present In the morning, drawn out to execution. He was seated upon the bottom of a cart, stripped GUILLOTINE. 81 above to his shirt, which was folded back, his arms were pinioned close behind, and his hair closely cropped, to prevent the stroke of the fatal knife from being impeded ; and a priest was seated in a chair beside him. As the object of my excur sion was to contemplate the manners of the people, I sumraoned resolution to view this gloomy and painful spectacle, which seemed to excite but little sensation in the market place, where its petty traffic and concerns proceeded with their accustoraed activity, and the women at their stalls, which extended to the foot of the scaffold, during the awful ceremony, appeared to be impressed only with the solicitude of selling their vegetables to the highest bidder. A small body of the national guards, and a few boys and idlers, surrounded the fatal spot. The guillotine, painted red, was placed upon a scaffold, of about five feet high. As soon as the criminal ascended the upper step which led to it, he mounted, by the direction of the executioner, a little board, like a shutter, raised upright to receive him, to which he was strapped, turned down flat, and run into a small ring of iron half opened and G 82 GUILLOTINE. made to admit the neck, the top part of which was then closed upon it, a black leather curtain was placed before the head, from which a valve depended, communicating with a tub, placed under the scaffold to receive the blood. The ex ecutioner then touched a long thin iron rod, con nected with the top of the instrument, and in a moment the axe descended, in the form of a square, cut diagonally, heavily charged with lead; Upon which the executioner and his assistants placed the body in a shell, half fiHed with saw dust, almost completely stained over with the brown blood of former executions; they then picked up the head, from a bag into which It had fallen, within the curtain, and having placed it in the same glooray depository, lowered the whole down to the sextons, who, covering it with a pall, bore it off to the place of burial. The velocity of this mode of execution can alone recommend it. The p.angs of death are passed almost in the same moment, which pre- sents to the terrified eye of the sufferer the fright ful apparatus of his disgraceful dissolution. It is a dreary subject to discuss ; but surely it is a GOVERNOR W-~ '. 83 matter of deep regret, that in England, criminals doomed to die, from the nature of their execu tion, are seen writhing in the lingering convulsions of death during a period dreadful to think of. It is said, that at the late meraorable execution of an African governor for murder, the miserable delinquent was beheld for ffteen minutes strug gling with the torments of his untiraely fate I The guillotine is far preferable to the savage mode, formerly used in France, of breaking the criminal, and leaving him afterwards to perish, in the most poignant agonies, upon the wheel. As I have alluded to the fate of governor W , I will conclude this chapter by relating an anecdote of the terror and infatuation of guilt, displayed in the conduct of this wretched man, in the presence of a friend of mine, from whom I received it. — A few years before he suffered, fatigued with life, and pursued by poverty, and the frightful remembrance of his offences, then alraost forgotten by the world, he left the south of France for Calais, with an intention of pass ing over to England, to offer himself up to its laws, not without the cherished hope that a lapse e 2 84 GOVERNOR W—— . of twenty years had swept away all evidence of his guilt. At the time of bis arrival at this port town, the hotel in which Madame H was waiting for ' a packet to Dover was very crowded — the land lord requested of her, that she would be pleased to permit two gentlemen, who were going to England, to take some refreshment in her room ; these persons proved to be a king's messenger, charged with important dispatches to his court, and governor Wii . The latter was dressed like a decayed gentleman, and bore about him all the indications of his extreme condition. They had not been seated at the table long, before the latter Informed the former, with evident marks of perturbation, that his name was W— — , that having been charged in England with offences, which, if true, subjected him to heavy punish ment, he was anxious to place himself at the dis posal of Its laws, and requested of him, as he was an English messenger, that he would con sider him as his prisoner, and take charge of him. The messenger, who was much surprised by the application, told him, that he could not upon GOVERNOR W . 85 such a representation take him into custody, un less he had an order frora the duke of Portland's office to that effect : and that in order to obtain It, it would be proper for him to write his name, that it might be compared with his hand writing in the office of the secretary at war, which he offered to carry over with him. Governor W still pressed him to take him into custody, the messenger more strongly declined it, by Inform ing him that he was the bearer of dispatches of great importance to his court, that he must im mediately cross the channel, and should hazard a passage, although the weather looked lowering, in an open boat, as no packets had arrived, and that consequently it was altogether impossible to take him over, but again requested him to write his name, for the purpose already mentioned ; the governor consented, pens and paper were brought, but the hand of the murderer shook so dreadfully, that he could not write it, and in an agony of mind, bordering upon phrensy, he rushed out of the room, and immediately left the town. The messenger entered the boat, and set sail; a storm quickly followed, the boat sunk in sight 86 GOVERNOR W r-r. of the pier, and all on board, but one of the watermen perished ! ! ! The great Disposer of huraan destiny, in vin dication of his eternal justice, rescued the life of this infatuated delinquent from the waves, and from a sudden death, to resign him to the public and merited doom of the laws. 87 CHAPTER VII. Filial Piety. — St. Catharine's Mount. — Madame Phillope. — General Ruffin's Trumpet. — Generosity. — Love infectious. Masons and Gardeners. I HAVE before had occasion to mention the hu mane conduct of Madame G towards the persecuted abbe; she soon afterwards, with the principal ladies of the city, fell under the dis pleasure of Robespierre and his agents, with no other crime upon their heads than that of wealth, honourably acquired. A committee, composed cf the most worthless inhabitants of Rouen, was formed, who in the name of, and for the use of the nation, seized upon the valuable stock of Messrs. G , who were natives of France. In one night, by torchlight, their extensive ware houses were sacked, and all their stores forcibly sold in the public market-place to the best bidder: the plundered merchants were paid the amount of the sale in assignats, in a paper currency which then bore an enormous discount, and shortly after- 88 FILIAL PIETY. wards retained only the value of the paper upon which the national note was written. In short, in a few hours an honourable family, nobly allied, were despoiled of property to the amount of 25,000/. sterling. Other merchants shared the same fate. This act of robbery was followed by an act of cruelty. Madame G , the mother, who was born in England, and who married a French gentleman of large fortune, whom she survived, of a delicate frame and advanced in years, was committed to prison, where, with many other ferf] ale sufferers, she was closely confined for eleven months, during which time she was compeHed to endure all sorts of privations. After the comrjiittee of rapine had settled their black account, and had remitted the guilty balance to their employers, the latter, in a letter of " friendly " coHusion, and fraudulent familiarity," after passing a few revolutionary jokes upon what had occurred, observed that the G s seemed to bleed very freely, and tha,t as it was likely they must have credit with many persons to a large amount, directed their obed-ient and active banditti to order these devoted gentleipen to draw, and to FILLAL PIETY. ©9 deUver to them, their draughts upon all such per sons who stood indebted to their pxtensive con cern. In the words of a celebrated orator*, *• Though they had shaken the tree till nothing *' remained upon the leafless branches, yet a new *' flight was on the wing, to watch the first " buddings of its prosperity, and to nip every *• hope of future foliage and fruit." The G — — s expected this visit, and, by an ingenious and justified expedient, prevented their perdition from becoming decisive. Soon after the gates of the prison were closed upon Madame G , her eldest son, a man of commanding person and eloquent address, in defiance of every friendly and of every affec tionate entreaty, flew to Paris. It was in the evening of the last winter which beheld its snows crimsoned with the blood of re volutionary carnage,, when he presented hiraself, undismayed, before that committee, the terrific ob ject and disposition of which wiH be as adequately * Vide Sheridan's oration against Hastings upon tlic Begum charge. go FILIAL PIETY. imparted by marely relating the names of its members, tben sitting, as by the most animated and elaborate delineations of afl its deadly deeds of blood and rapine. At a table, covered with green cloth, shabbily Hghted, in one of the com mittee rooms of the national assembly, were seated Robespierre, Collot d'HerboIs, Carnot, and David. They were occupied in filling up the lists for the permanent guillotine, erected very near them, in la Place de la Revolution, which the executioners were then clearing of its gore, and preparing for the next day's butchery. In this devoted capital more blood had, during that day, streamed upon the scaffold, than on any one day during the revolution. , The terrified inhabitants, in darkness, in re mote recesses of their desolate houses, were silently, offering up a prayer to the great God of mercy to release thera, in a way most suitable to his wisdom, from such scenes of deep dismay, and remorseless slaughter. Robespierre, as usual, was dressed with great neatness and gaiety; the savage was generaUy FILIAL PIETY. 91 scented, whilst his associates were habited en Jacobin, inthe squalid, filthy fashion of that era of the revolution, — In the dress of blackguards. Mr. G bowed, and addressed them very respectfully. " I ara corae, citizens, before you," said this amiable son, " to implore the release of *' my mother ; she is pining in the prisons of " Rouen, without having committed any offence ; " she is in years ; and if her confinement con- •' tinues, her children, whose fortunes have been " placed at the disposal of the national exlgen- " cles, will have to lament her death ; grant the " prayer of her son, restore, I conjure you, by all " the rights of nature, restore her to her afflicted " family." Robespierre looked obliquely at him, and with his accustomed sharpness, interrupted him from proceeding further, by exclaiming, " What right, miscreant, have you to appear be- " fore us ? you are an agent of Pitt and Cobourg," (the then common phrase of reproach), " you *' shall be sent to the guillotine — Why are you " not at the frontiers ?" Monsieur G , un- appalled, replied, " Give me my mother, and I *' will be there to-morrow, I am ready Instantly 93 FILIAL PIETY. " to spin my blood. If It must be the price of her " discharge." Robespierre, whose savage sou! was occasionally moved by sights of heroic virtue, seemed impressed by this brave and unusual ad dress. He paused, and after whispering a few words to his associates, wrote the discharge, and handing it over to a soldier, for the successful petitioner, he fiercely told him to retire. Mr. G instantly set out for Rouen, where, after a long and severe journey, he arrived, ex hausted with fatigue and agitation of mind ; with out refreshment, this excellent man flew to the gates of the prison which contained his mother, and presented the discharge to the gaoler, who drily, with a brutal grin, informed hira, that a revolutionary joke bad been played off upon him, that be had just received a counter order, which he held in his hand, and refused to release herin It turned out, that immediately after Mr. G had left the committee room, the re lenting disposition, which he bad momentarily awakened In the barbarous breast of Robespierre, had subsided. ST. CATHARINE'S MOUNT. ©3 The generous sentiment was of a short, and sickly growth, and withered under the gloomy fatal shade of his sanguinary nature. A chasseur had been dispatched with the counter order, who passed the exulting, but deluded G on the road. A short time after this, and a few days before Madame G , and her unhappy companions were to have perished on the scaffold, the gates of their prison flew open, the world was released from a monster — Robespierre was no raore. This interesting recital I received frora one of the araiable sufferers. In our way to St. Catharine's Mount. The story afforded a melancholy con trast to the rich and cheerful scenes about us. From the attic story of a lofty house, built under this celebrated cliff, we ascended that part of it, which, upon the road to Paris, is only ac cessible in this manner. When we reached the top, the prospect was indeed superb ; on one side we traced for miles the romantic meanders of the Seine, every where forming little islands of pop lars; before us, melting away in the horizon, were the blue mountains of Lower Normandy; 54 ST. CATHARINE'S MOUNT. at their feet, a variegated display of meadowSj, forests, corn-fields, and vineyards ; imraediately below us, the city of Rouen, and its beautiful suburbs. This delicious, and expanded prospect, we enjoyed upon a seat erected near a little oratory, which is built upon the top of the raoun- tain, resting, at one end, upon the pedestal of a cross, which, in the times of the revolution, had been shattered and overturned. Frora this place, before dinner, we proceeded to la Montagne : a wild and hilly country, lying opposite to St. Catharine's. Here we were over taken by a storm, upon which, a cure, who had observed us from bis little cottage, not far distant, and who had been very lately reinstated in the cure of the church in the neighbouring village, came out to us, with an umbrella, and invited us to dinner. Upon our return to our inn, to dress, we were annoyed by a nuisance which had before frequently assailed us. I knew a man, who,^ in a moment of ill humour, vented rather a revengeful wish, — that the next neighbour of his enemy might have a child who was fond of a whistle and a drum ! A more insufferable nuisance GENERAL rOfFIN's TRUMPET. 95 was destined for us ; the person who lodged in the next room to mine, was a beginner, (and a dull one too), upon the trumpet. It was general Ruffin, whom I have mentioned before, forcing from this brazen tube, sounds which certainly would have set a kennel of hounds in a cry of agony, and were almost calculated to disturb the repose of the dead. General Ruffin, in all other respects, was a very polite, and indeed a very quiet young man, and a brave warrior ; but in the display of his passion for music, I fear he mistook either his talent or his instrument. At one tirae we thought of inviting him to dine with us, that we might have a little respite, but after debating the matter well ov«r,, we conceived that to en tertain an Italian hero, as he ought to be received by those who adraire valour even in an enemy, was purchasing silenCe at a very advanced price ; so we submitted to the evil with that resignation which generally follows the incurable absence of a remedy. We now addressed ourselves to Madame P , to know how long the general had learned the trumpet, and whether his leisure hours were generally occupied in this way ; but S6 MADAME PHILLOPE. Madame P was, strange to tell, not very able to afford us much information upon the sub ject, for she was under the influence of love. The natural tranquillity of her disposition was im proved by the prospect of connubial happiness, which, although a widow, and touching the fron tier of her eight and thirtieth year, she shortly expected to receive from the son of a neighbour ing architect, who was then a minor. In this blissful frame of mind, our fair hostess scarcely knew when the trumpet of general Ruffin sounded. Her soul was in harmony with all the world, and it was not in the power of the demon of discord, nor even of this annoying brazen tube, to disturb her. Madame P well deserved to be blessed with such equanimity, and if she liked it, with such a lover, for she was a generous and good creature. A gentleman, to whom I was afterwards in troduced, when the revolution began to grow hot, fled with his lady and his children into a foreign country, where, upon the relics of a shattered fortune, he remained until things wore a better aspect, and enabled him, with a pro- - MADAME PHILLOPE. 97 ^ect of safety, to return to his native country. In better times, upon his annual visits to a noble cha teau, and large estates which he once possessed in this part of Normandy, he was accustomed to stop at the Hotel de Poitiers. His equipage was then splendid, and suitable to his affluent circum stances.. Upon his return to France, this gentleman, harassed by losses,and fatigued by sickness, arrived with his accomplished lady, and their elegant chil dren. In a hired cabriolet, at the gate of Madame P , As soon as their name was announced, the grateful hostess presented herself before them, and kissing the children, burst into tears of joy ; when she had recovered herself, she addressed her old patron, by expressing her hopes, that he. had amended his fortune abroad, and was now return ing to enjoy himself in tranquillity at horae. " Alas ! my good Madame P ," said this worthy gentleman, " we left our country, as you " know, to save our lives : we have subsisted " upon the remains of our fortune ever since, and " have sustained heavy and cruel losses ; we have " been taken prisoners upon our passage, and are " now returning to our home, if any Is left to us, H 38 MADAME PHILLOPE. — GENEROSITY. " to solicit some reparation for our sufferings* " Times are altered, Madame P , you " must not now consider me as formerly, when I <' expended the gifts of Providence in a mariner " which I hope was not altogether unworthy of " the bounty which showered them upon me, we " must bow down to such dispensations, you see " I am candid with you ; we are fatigued, and " want refreshment, give us, my good landlady, " a little plain dinner, such as is suitable to our " present condition." Madame P was so much affected, that she could make no reply, and left the room. Immediately all the kitchen was in a bustle, every pot and pan were placed in instant requi sition, the chamber-maids were sent to the neigh bouring confectioners for cakes, and the porter was dispatched all over the city for the choicest fruits. In a short time a noble dinner was served up to this unfortunate family, followed by con fectionary, fruits, and burgundy. When the re past was over, Mons. O ordered his blH, and the carriage to be got ready. Madame P entered the room, and in the most amiable manner LOVE INFECTIOUS, 99 requested him, as she had exceeded his orders, to consider the dinner as a Httle acknowledgement of her sense of his past favours ; and money, though earnestly pressed upon her. she would not receive. The whole of this interesting party were moved to tears, by this Httle act of nature and generosity. When they entered their carriage, they found in it bouquets of flowers, and boxes of cakes for the little children. No doubt Madame P moved lighter that day than she ever did in her life, and perhaps found the remem brance of her conduct upon the occasion almost as exquisite as the hours of love, which she ap peared most happily to enjoy, when we had the honour of being under her roof. Monsieur O — — could not help exhibltmg much feeling, when he related this little event to me. I must not fail to mention that afl the house seemed, for the moment, infected with the happy disease of the mistress. General Ruffin's valet de chambre was in love with Dorothee, our cham ber-maid ; the porter was pining for a little black- eyed grisette, who sold prints and pastry, in a H 2 loo MASONS AND GARDENERS. stall opposite ; and the ostler was eternally quar relling with the chef de cuisine, who repelled him from the kitchen, which. In the person of the assistant cook, a plump rosy Norman girl, con tained all the treasure of his soul — love and neg ligence reigned throughout the household. Wc rang tbe bells, and sacre-dleu'd, but all in vain, we suffered great inconvenience, but zvho could be angry f In the course of our walks, and conversa tions with the workmen whom we met, we found that most of the masons and gardeners of Rouen had fought In the meraorable, bloody, and deci sive battle of Marengo, at which it appears that a great part of the military of France were pre sent. The change they presented was worthy of observation ; we saw men sun-browned in cam paigns, and Inured to all the ferocity of war, at the sound of peace assuming all the tranquil habits of Ingenious industry, or rustic simpHcity. Some of tbem were occupied in forming the shapeless stone Into graceful embeHIshments for elegant houses, and others In disposing, with botanic taste, the fragrant parterre. After spend ing four very delightful days in this agreeable MASONS AND GARDENERS. 101 city, I bade adieu to my companion, whose in tention it was to spend some time here, and those friends frora whora 1 had received great attention and hospitalities, and wishing the amiable Ma dame P many happy years, and receiving from her the same assurances of civility, about seven o'clock in the evening 1 seated myself in the diligence for Paris, and In a comfortable corner of It, after we had passed the pave, resigned my self to sleep. 102 (Chapter viii. Early Dinner. — Mante. — Frost. — Due de Sully. — Approach the Capital. — Norman Barrier. — Paris. — ^Hotel de Rouen. — Palais Royal. At day-break, the appearance of the country in all directions was delightful. The faint eastern blush of early morn, threw a mild refreshing light over the half veiled dew-dripping scenery. The spirit of our imraortal bard, awaking from the bosom of nature, seemed to exclaim — i Look love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds, in yonder east ; Night's candles are burnt out ; and jocund Day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. About eight o'clock in the morning, we ar rived at Mante, a picturesque town, built upon a fertile mountain, at the base of which the Seine flowed along, rippling against its many islands of beautiful poplars. At this hour, upon our alight ing at the inn, we found a regular dinner ready, MANTE. 103 consisting of soups, meats, fowls, and confec tionary. To the no small surprise of the host, I expressed a wish to have some breakfast, and at length, after much difficulty, procured some coffee and rolls. The rest of the party, with great composure, tucked their napkins in the buttonholes of their waistcoats, and applied theraselves to the good things before them with very active address. What a happy race of people ! ready for every thing, and at all times ; they scarcely know the meaning of inconvenience. In the midst of difficulty, they find accom modation ; each with the other, and every thing with all of them seems in harmony. How happily did Frederic the Great say of them, that even misfortunes were lost upon thera. After paying thirty sols for my repast, a charge which an nounced our approach to the capital, I walked on, and made my way to the bridge over another winding ofthe Seine, at the bottora. of the town, which is a light and elegant structure. The houses along the sides of the river are handsorae, and delightfully situated. The principal church 104 PROST. is a fine Gothic building, but is rapidly hastening to decay ; some of its pinnacles are destroyed, and all Its windows broken in. A sraall chapel, in the street opposite, which had an appearance of considerable elegance, was converted into a slaughter-house. Embosomed in woods, on the other side of the bridge. Is a fine chateau, formerly belonging to the count d'Adhemar; here, while enjoying the enchant ing prospect about me, I heard the jingling ap proach of our heavy diligence, in which, having re-seated myself, we proceeded upon a fine high road, through thick rows of walnut, cherry, mulberry, and apple trees, for several miles, on each side of which were vineyards, upon whose promising vintage the frost had comraitted sad devastation. For a vast extent they appeared blackened and withered. It was said that France sustained a loss of two millions sterling by this unusual visitation. In the course of our journey, I experienced in the conduct of one of our two female com panions, an occurrence allied to that which is related by Sterne of Madame Rambouillet, by Due DE SULLY. 105 which he very justly illustrates the happy ease with which the French ladles prevent themselves frora ever suffering by inconvenient notions of delicacy. A few miles from Mante, on the borders of the Seine, we passed one of the venerable cha teaux of the celebrated due de Sully, the faithful, able, and upright minister of Henry IV. of France, one of those great geniuses, who, only at distant 2eras of time, are perraitted to shine out amongst the race of raen. Historians unite In ob.serving that the duke performed all the duties of an active and upright minister, under a master who ex ercised all the offices of a great and good king; after whose unhappy fate this excellent man re tired from the busy scenes of the world, and, covered with time and honours, expired in the eighty-second year of his age, in the year 1641, at his castle of Villebon. The house is plain and large. The grounds are disposed after the fashion of ancient times. As, we approached the capital, the country looked very rich and luxuriant. We passed through the forest of St. Germains, where there 106 APPROACH THE CAPITAL. is a noble palace, built upon a lofty mountain. The forest abounds with game, and formerly afforded the delights of the chase to the royal NImrods of France. Its numerous green alleys are between two and three railes long, and in the form of radii unite in a centre. The forest and park extend to the barrier, through which we immediately entered the town of St. Germains, distant frora Paris about twelve railes, which Is a large and populous place, and in forraer periods, during the royal residence, was rich and flourish ing, but having participated in the blessings of the revolution, presents an appearance of con siderable poverty, and squaHd decay. Here we changed horses for the last post, and ran down a fine broad paved royal road through rows of stately elms, upon an inclined plane, until the distant and wide, but clear display of majestic domes, dark towers, and lofty spires, informed us that we approached the capital. I could not help comparing them with their cloud-capped brethren of London, over whose dim-discovered heads a floating mass of unhealthy smoke for ever suspends its heavy length of gloom. Our NORMAN BARRIER. 10? carriage stopped at the Norman Barrier, the grand entrance to Paris, which here presents a magni^- cent prospect to the eye. The barrier is formed of two very large and noble military stone lodges, having porticoes on all sides, supported by massy Doric pillars. These buildings were given to the nation by the national assembly In the year 1792, and are separated frorn each other by a range of iron gates, adorned with republican emblems. Upon a gentle declivity, through quadruple rows of elms, at the distance of a mile and a half, the gigantic statues of la Place de la Concorde (ei devant, de la Revolution), appear; beyond which the gardens and the palace of the Thuil- lerles, upon the centre tower of which the tri- coloured flag was waving, form the back scene of this splendid spectacle. Before we entered la Place de la Concorde we passed, on each side of us, the beautiful and favourite walks of the Parisians, called les Champs Elysees, and after wards, on our left, the elegant palace of the Garde-raeuble j where we entered the streets of Paris, and soon afterwards alighted at the bureau des diligences ; from which place I took a fiacre. 19S PARIS. HOTEL DE ROUEN. (a hackney coach), and about six o'clock in the evening presented myself to the viistress of the hotel de Rouen, for the women of France gene rally transact all the masculine duties of the house. To this hotel I was recomraended by Messrs. G , upon mentioning whose name, I was very politely shown up to a suite of plea sant apartments, consisting of an anteroom, be~^d- room, and dressing-room ; the two latter were charmingly situated, the windows of which looked out upon an agreeable garden belonging to the palace of the Louvre. For these rooras I paid the moderate price of three livres a day. Here, « after enjoying those coraforts which travellers after long journeys require, and a good dinner into the bargain, about nine o'clock at night I sallied out to the Palais Royal, a superb pile built by the late due d'Orleans, who, when he was erecting It, publicly boasted that he would make It the greatest brothel in Europe, in which prediction he succeeded to the full consum mation of his abominable wishes. This palace is ftow the property of the nation. The grand entrance is from the Rue St. Honore, a long PALAIS ROYAL. 109 street, something resembling the Piccadilly of London, but destitute, like all the other streets of Paris, of that ample breadth, and paved footway, for the accommodation of pedestrian passengers, which give such a decided superiority to the streets of the capital of England. After passing through two noble courts, I entered the piazza of this amazing pile, which is built of stone, upon arches, supported by Corinthian pilasters. Its form Is an oblong square, with gardens, and walks in the centre. The whole Is considered to be about one thousand four hundred feet long, and three hundred feet broad. The finest shops of Paris for jewellery, watches, clocks, mantua-makers, re staurateurs*, china magazines, &c., form the back of the piazza, which, on all sides of this immense fabric, affords a very fine promenade. These shops once made a part of the speculation of their mercenary and abandoned master, to whom they each paid a rent after the rate of two or three hundred pounds sterling per annum. This place presents a scene of profligate voluptuousness not to be equalled upon any spot of Its size In, * Restaurateur is now universally used instead of traiteur. iXO ' PALAIS ROYAL. Europe. Women of character are almost afraid to appear here at noon day ; and a stranger would conceive that, at night, he saw before him one- third of the beauty of Paris. Under the roof of this palace are two theatres, museums of curiosities, the tribunate, gaming houses, billiard rooras, buillotte clubs, ball rooras, &c., all opening into the gardens, the windows of which threw, from their numerous lamps and lustres, a stream of gay and gaudy Hght upon the walks below, and afforded the appearance of a grand illumination. At the bottora was a large pavilion, finely illuminated. In which were groups of people regaling themselves with lemonade and ices. Upon this spot, in the early part of the re volution, the celebrated Camille Desmoullns used to declaim against the abuses of the old govern ment, to all the Idle and disaffected of Paris. It is said that the liveries of the due d'Orleans gave birth to the republican colours, which used to be displayed In the hats of the auditors, who, in point of respectability, resembled the motley re formers of Chalk Farm. From the carousing rooms under ground, the ear was filled with the PALAIS ROYAL. 1 1 1 sounds of music and the buzzing of crowds ; in short, such a scene of midnight revelry and dis sipation I never before beheld. Upon my return to ray hotel, I was a Httle surprised to find the streets of this gay city so meanly lighted. Lamps placed at gloomy di stances from each other, suspended by cords, from lofty poles, furnish the only means of directing the footsteps of the nocturnal wanderer. 112 CHAPTER IX. French Reception. — The affectionate Domestic. — Voltaire- Restaurateur. — Consular Guard. — Music, — Venetian Horses. — Gates of the Palace. — Gardens of [the Thuil- leries. — Statues. — The faithful Vase. — The Sabine Picture. Monsieur Perregaux. — Marquis de Chatelet. — Madame Perresaux. — Beaux and Belles of Paris. 1 FORGOT, In my last chapter, to mention that I paid for my place and luggage in the diligence, from Rouen to Paris, a distance of ninety miles, twenty-three livres' and eighteen sols. The next morning after my arrival, and a good night's re pose In a sofa bed, constructed after the French fashion, which was very lofty and handsome, and equally comfortable, I waited upon my accom plished friend Madame H , In the Rue Flo rentine. When the door was opened, I beheld the figure of a faithful and affectionate domestic, who had been in the service of one who wifl be dear to me until the coraraon destroyer of all our loves and friendships here shall lay me where she is laid. THE AFFECTIONATE DOMESTIC. 1 1 3 Past times rushed in upon me. — I mean not, —the World's usage tells me I must not, detain the attention of those whom chance may conduct to these perishable pages, by enumerating the vir tues, and imperfectly attempting to portray the generous, enlightened, and accomplished mind of a beloved sister. — I submit. — My pen shall only relate that — in society she was ranked arnongst its most treasured ornaments, and that her spotless spirit ascended to Heaven amidst the tears and tender remembrances of all who loved her— they were all who knew her *. I had the honor of being acquainted with Madame H ; when in England, from very early years ; I found her with her elegant and accomplished daughter, in a suite of large rooms, very handsomely furnished after the antique, which gives to the present fashionable furniture of France its form and character. These rooms composed a floor of a nobl^ stone-built house, * Mrs. Hodges, who for a few months only survived her husband, the late William Hodges, Esq. R. A. a gentleman emi nently distinguished for the power of his pencil, as a co-cir- curana^^gator of Cooke, and for his Asiatic researches. I 114 VOLTAIRE. which contained several other families, the cus tomary mode of being lodged in the French capital. She received me in the most charming manner, having expected me for some days pre vious tO my arrival, and was that evening going to her country house at PaSsi, a few miles from Paris, whither she pressed me to accompany her. Madame H was very pretty, and a wit, and had accordingly admitted Voltaire amongst the number of her household gOds ; the aroh old cynic,*^ with his deathlike sarcastic face, admira bly represented by a sfeall whole lettgth porcelain statue, occupied the centre of her chihiney piece. Upbn finding that I was disposed to remain in town, ihe recommended me to a Restauj-ateur, in the gardens of the Thuilleries, one of the first eating houses in Paris for society and entertain ment. This house has been lately built under the auspices of the first consul, from a design approved of by his own exquisite taste; and he has permitted the entrance to open into the gar dens of the consular palace. The whole is from a model of one of the little palaces of the Her culaneum : it is upon a small scale, buTlt of a RESTAURATEUR. IU fine white stOne : it contains a centre, with a portico, supported by Doric piUars, and two long wings. The front is upon the terrace of the gardens, and coraraarids an enchanting view of all its beautiful walks and statues. On the ground floor the house is divided into three long and spa cious apartments, opening into each other through centre arches, which are redoubled upon the view by immense pier glasses at each end. The first room is for dinner parties, the next for ices, .and the third for coffee. In the middle is a flying staircase, lined on each side with orange trees, ascending into a suite of upper dinner rooms, all of which are admirably painted after the taste of the Herculaneum, and are almost Hned with costly pier glasses. My fair countrywomen would perhaps be a little surprised to be told, that elegant women, of the first respectability, superbly dressed for the promenade, dine here with their friends in the public room ; a custom which renders the scene delightful, and removes from it the accustomed im pressions of grossness. Upon entering, the guest is presented with a dinner chart, handsomely 1 2 116 CONSULAR GUARD. printed, enumerating the different dishes provided for that day, with their respective prices affixed. All the people who frequent this place are highly respectable. The visitor is furnished with ice for his water decanters, with the best attendance at dinner, and with all the English and foreign news papers. After parting from Madame H , who intended returning to town the next day, I went to see the consular guard relieved at the Thuilleries. About five companies of this dis tinguished regiment assemble in the gardens, exactly at five minutes before twelve o'clock, and, preceded by their fine band of music, march through the hall of the palace, and forni the line in the grand court yard, in front of it, where they are joined by a squadron of horse. Their uniform is blue, with broad white facings. The consular guard were in a Httle disgrace, and were not permitted to do the entire duty of the palace at this tirae, nor during several suc ceeding ddys, as a mark of the first consul's dis pleasure, which had been excited by some un guarded expression of the common men, respect ing his conduct, and which, to the, jealous ear CONSULAR GUAftD.— -MUSIC 117 of a new created and untried authority, sounded Hke the tone of disaffection. Only the consular cavalry were allowed to mount guard, the infan try were, provisionally, superseded by a detach ment frora a fine regiment of hussars. On ac count of the shortness of this parade, which is always dismissed precisely at ten minutes past twelve o'clock, it is not much attended. The band is very fine : instead of triangles they had a Turkish military instrument, just introduced. In the shape of four canopies, Hke the roofs of Chi nese temples, one above another, lessening as they ascended, made of thin plates of brass, and fringed with very little brass bells : it was sup-, ported by a sliding rod which dropped into a handle, out of which, when it was Intended to be sounded, it was raised by a sudden motion of the musician, and produced a good effect with other instruments. The tambour major is re marked for his noble appearance, and for the pro portions of his person, which is very handsome : his full dress uniform at the grand parade is the most splendid thing I ever beheld. The corps of pioneers who precede the regiment have a sin- 1 18 VENETIAN HORSES. gular appearance : these men are rather above six feet high, and proportionably made ; they wear fierce mustachios and long black beards, lofty bear skin caps, broad white leathern aprons, which almost touch their chins, and over their shoulders carry enormous hatchets. Their strange costume seeraed to unite the dissimilar characters of high priest and warrior. They looked like military Magi. The common men made a very martial appearance, and their officers wore En glish riding boots, which had an unmilltary effect. Paris at present exhibits all the appearances of a city in a state of siege. The consular palace re sembles a line of magnificent barracks, at the balconies and upon the terraces of which soldiers are everywhere to be seen lounging. This palace is partitioned between the first and second consuls, the third principal magistrate resides in a palace near the Lquvre, opposite to the Thuilleries. The four colossal brazen horses, called the Venetian horses, brought from Venice, are mounted upon lofty pedestals, on each side of the gates of the grand court-yard of the palace. When the Roman emperor Constantine founded Constantinople, he GATfiS OP THE PALjVCEi 1 1 9 attached these exquisite statues to the chariot of the Sun, in the hippodromus, or circus ; and when that capital was taken possession of by the Vene tian and French crusading armies, In 1206, the Venetians obtained possession of them, amongst many other inestimable curiosities, and placed these horses In four niches over the great door of the church of St. Marco : respecting their previ ous history, authors very much differ ; sorae assert that they were cast by the great statuary Ly sip- pus, in Alexander's tirae, others that they w^re raised over the triuraphal arch of Augustus, others of Nero, and thence removed to the triumphal arch of Constantine, from which he carried them to his own capital. They are^said to be composed of bronze and gold, much resembling the famous composition of the Corinthian brass. Although these statues are of an enormous size, they are too diminutive for the vast pile of building which they adorn. The same remark applies to the entrance gates, of massy iron, which have just been raised by the directions of the first consul. The tricolour flag, mounted upon the centre dome of the palace, is 120 GARDENS OP THE THUILLERIES.— STATUES. also too small. Passing from the court yard un der the grand entrance I entered the gardens, which are very beautiful, and, about seven o'clock ih the evening, form one of the favourite and fashionable walks of the Parisians ; they are dis posed in regular promenades, in which are many fine casts from the ancient statues in the hall of antiques, and on each side are noble orange trees, growing in vast moveable cases, many of which are twenty feet high. Until lately, many of the antiques were placed in these gardens, but Bona parte, with his accustomed judgment and vene ration for the arts, ordered them to be removed into the grand national collection, and their places to be supplied by these beautiful copies, amongst which I particularly distinguished those of HIp- pomanes and Atalanta, for the beauty of their proportions, and the exquisite illustration of their story. There are some fine basins of water, in the middle of which are jets d'eau ; the gravel walks of the gardens are watered every morning in hot weather, and centinels are stationed at every avenue to preserve order: no person is suffered to pass with a parcel, however small. Here are THE FAITHFUL VASE. 121 groups of people to be seen, every morning, read ing the prints of the day, in the refreshing cool ness of the shade. For the use of a chair in the gardens, of which there are some hundreds, the" proprietor is thankful for the smallest coin of the republic. At the bottom of the steps leading to the terrace, in front of the palace, are some beautiful vases, of an immense size, raised about twelve feet from the ground : in one of them, which was pointed out to me, an unpopular and persecuted Parisian saved nearly all his property during the revolution : a short time before the massacre of the 10th of August, 1792, when the domiciliary visits became frequent and keen, this man, during a dark night, stole, unobserved by the guards, into the garden, with a bag under his arm, containing almost all his treasure, to the vase, which, from the palace, is on the right hand, next to the Feuillans, and, after some difficulty, com mitted the whole to the capacious bosom of the faithful depository : this done, he retreated in safety ; and when the time of terror was passed, fearful that he, should not be able to raise his bag 123 THE SABINE PICTURE. from the deep bottom of the urn without a dis covery, which might have rendered the circum stance suspicious, and perhaps hazardous to him, he presented himself before the minister of the police, verified the narrative of the facts, and was placed in the quiet possession of his property, which in this manner had remained undisturbed during all that frightful period. From the gardens I proceeded to the exhibition of David's celebrated painting of the suspension of the battle between the Sabines and the Romans, produced by the wives of the latter rushing, with their children in their arms, between the ap proaching warriors. David is deservedly con sidered as the first Hving artist in France, and this splendid picture is worthy of his pencil. It is upon an immense scale, the figures (of which there are many) are as large as Hfe. The principal female raising her terrified infant, and the two chief combatants, are inimitable : I was informed, by good authority, that the court of Russia had offered an almost incredible sum for it, but that David, who is very opulent, felt a reluctance in t MONS. PERREGAUX. 123 parting with it, to the emperor, on account of the climate of Russia being unfavourable to colour. From this beautiful painting I went to pay my respects to Mons. O , who resided at the further end of Paris, upon whom I had a letter of credit. Upon my arrival at his hotel, I was informed by the porter that his master was at his chateau, about ten miles in the country, with his family, where he lay extremely ill. This news rendered it necessary for rae to leave Paris for a day and a night at least. Frora Mons. O^ — ¦ I directed my steps to M. Perregaux, the rich banker and legislator, to whom I hadlettersof introduction, who lives in the Rue Mont Blanc, a street, the place of residence of the principal bankers, and is next door neigh bour to his rival Mons. Recamier, whose lady has occasioned some Httle conversation. Monsieur Perregaux's hotel is very superb ; his chief clerks occupy rooms elegantly fitted up, and decorated with fine paintings : I was received in a very handsorae raanner, in a beautiful Httle cabinet, adorned with some excellent and costly paintings. 124 MONS. PERREGAUX. After many polite expressions from him, I laugh ingly informed him of the dllemraa in which I was placed by the unexpected absence of Mons. O ; upon which Mons. Perregaux in the most friendly manner told me that the letters which I had brought were from persons whom he highly esteemed; and that Mr. O was also his friend ; that as It might prove inconve nient for me to wait upon him in the country, he begged to have the pleasure of furnishing me with whatever money I wanted, upon my own draughts. I felt this act of politeness and libe rality very forcibly, but declined availing myself of It, as I wished not only to take up what money I wanted in a regular manner, but was desirous of seeing Mr. O , who was represented as a very amiable man, and his family as elegant and accomplished. I was much charmed with the generous conduct of Mons. Perregaux, from whora I afterwards received great attentions, and who is rauch beloved by the English. I felt it a ^gratifying duty not to confine the knowledge of such an act of liberality to the spot where it was so handsomely manifested. MARaUIS DE CHATELET. 1 35 The sessions of the legislative assembly had closed the day before my arrival, a circurastance by me much regretted, as through the Interest of M. Perregaux I should have been enabled to have attended their sittings. The bankers of France are immensely rich, and almost command the treasury of the nation. Mons. Perregaux, with the well-timed, silent submission of the flexible reed in the fable, has survived the revo lutionary storm, which, by a good but guiltless policy, has passed over him, without leaving one stain upon his honourable character, and which, Hke the slime of the Egyptian inundation, has operated only to fructify and increase his for tunes. He once, however, narrowly escaped. In the time of Robespierre, the Marquis de Chatelet, a few nights before his execution, attempted to corrupt his guards, and told them, if they would release him. Mons. Perregaux would give them a draft to any amount. The centinels rejected the bribe, and informed their sanguinary em ployer of the offer, who caused the books of" Mons. Perregaux to be investigated : who was in no shape concerned in the meditated escape ; 126 BEAUX AND BELLES OF PARIS. but hearing, with extraordinary swiftness, that the marquis, whose banker he had been, and to whom an Inconsiderable balance was then due, had implicated him In this raanner, he Instantly, with great dexterity, removed the pages which contained the account of the unhappy nobleman, and also his own destiny, and thus saved his life. Mons. Perregaux is a widower ; his daughter, an only child, is raarried to a wealthy general, a man of great bravery, and beloved by Bonaparte. I dined this day at the Restaurateur's in the Thuilleries, and found the effect of Madame H 's charming civiHty to me. There were sorae beautiful woraen present, dressed after tlie antique, a fashion successfully introduced by David. This extraordinary genius was desirous of dressing the beaux of Paris after the same model ; but they politely declined it, alleging that if Mons. David would at the sarae time create another climate, warraer, and more regular for them, they would then submit the matter to a committee of fashion. The wOmen, though said, in point of corporeal sufferance, to be able to en dure less than men, were enchanted with the EEAuX AND BELLES OF PARIS. 127 design of the artist, and, without approaching a single degree nearer to the sun, unmindful of colds, consumptions, and death, have assumed a dress, if such it can be called, the airiness of which, to the eye of fancy, resembles the mist of incense undulating over a display of beauty and symmetry, only to be rivalled by those exquisite models of Grecian taste which first furnished them with these new ideas of personal decora-" tion. The French ladies every morning anoint their heads with scented antique oil ; their sidelocks are formed into small circles, descending to the bosom ; and the hair behind is rolled into a rose, by which the ancient bust is exquisitely imitated. CHAPTER X. Large Dogs. — A Plan for becoming quickly acquainted with Paris. — Pantheon. — Tombs of Voltaire and Rousseau.—- Politeness of an Emigrant.— The Beauty of France.— Beauty evanescent. — Place de Carousel. — Infernal Ma chine. — Fouche. — Seine. — Washerwomen. — Fisherwomen. —Baths. In the streets of Paris I ' frequently saw a con siderable number of very large, fierce looking dogs, partaking of the breed of the Newfound land and British bulldog : during the time of terror, these brave and faithful animals were in much request, and are said to have given the alarm of danger, and saved, in several instances, the lives and property of their masters, by their accustomed fidelity. Upon ray arrival in this great capital, I was of course desirous of becom ing acquainted with its leading features as soon as possible, for the purpose of being enabled to explore my way to any part of it, without a guide. The scheme which I thought of, for this purpose. PANTHEON, 1 29 ansvvered my wishes, and therefore I may pre sume to submit it to others. On the second day after ray arrival, I pur chased a raap of Paris, hired a fiacre, and drove to the Pantheon, upon the top gallery of which, surraounting Its lofty and magnificent dome, I made a survey of the city, which lay below me, like the chart with which I compared it : the clouds passed swiftly over my head, and from the shape of the dome, impressed me with an idea of moving in the air, upon the top, instead of the bottom, of a balloon. I easily attained my object, by tracing the churches, the temple, the abbey, the palaces, large buildings, and the course and Islands of the river, after which I seldom had occasion to retrace my step.s; when I was roving about, unaccompanied. On account of no coal being used in Paris, the prospect is perfectly clear, and the air consequently salubrious. The Pantheon, or church of St. Genevieve, Is a mag nificent building frora the designs of Monsieur Soufflet, one of the first architects of France : it was Intended to be the rival of the St. Paul's of London ; but, though a very noble edifice. It 130 PANTHEON. must fail of exciting any emotions of jealousy amongst the admirers of that great boast of British architecture; yet every one must allow it to be a magnificent pile, and when completed, is destined to be the principal place of worship, as it is at present the mausoleum of the deceased great men of France. Upon the entablature over the portico is written, in immense characters, " AUX GRANDS HOMMES — LA PATRIE KECON- NoisANTE." ParaHel with the grand entrance are colossal statues, representing the virtues ira- puted to a republic. Soon after the completion of the Inner dome, about two years since, one of the main supporting pillars was crushed in several places by the pressure, but the defective column has been removed, and until it can be replaced, its proportion of weight is sustained by a most Ingenious and coraplicated wooden struc ture. Upon the spot where the altar is to be erected, I saw another goddess of liberty, with her usual appendages, carved in wood, and painted, and raised by the order of Robespierre, for a grand revolutionary fete, which he intended to have given, in this church, upon the very day TOMBS OF VOLTAIRE AND AOUSSEAU. 131 on which he perished. The interior dome is covered with two larger ones, each of which is supported by separate pillars and pilasters, and the whole is constructed of stone alone : the lower dome is decorated with the most beautiful carvings in stone. The peristyle, or circular co lonnade round the lower part of the exterior of the dome, is very fine, but I must confess, I do not like an ancient fashion which the French have just revived in their construction of these piUars, of raaking the column thicker a Httle below the centre, and lessening to the base. Under this immense fabric are spacious vaults, well lighted, supported by Doric pillars, the depositories of the illustrious dead of France. At present there are only two personages whose relics are honoured with this gloomy distinction, Rousseau and Voltaire, who very quietly repose by the side of each other : their remains are con tained in two separate tombs, constructed of wood, and are embelHshed with various inscrip tions. Haralet's reraark over the grave of Ophelia, strongly occurred to me. '• Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? K 2 132 POLITENESS OF AN EMIGRANT; " " your songs ? your flashes of merriment that were " wont to set the table on a roar ? not one now to " mock your own grinning ? quite chapfallen." At either end of the tomb of Jean Jacques, are two hands, darting out of the gates of death, supporting lighted torches, and below are in scriptions illustrating the peaceful, and benevo lent virtues of the enclosed defunct ! Peace to their manes ! may they enjoy more repose than that troubled world which their ex traordinary, yet different talents seeraed equally destined to embellish and to embroil ; though it would be difficult to narae any two modern wri ters, who have expressed, with more eloquence, a cordial love of peace, and a zealous desire to promote the interests of humanity 1 ! The church of St. Genevieve, which is en tirely composed of stone and iron (of the latter very little is used), has already cost the nation very near two millions sterling. As I was re turning from the Pantheon, I was addressed by one of our emigrant companions, to whom I have before aHuded, who had just arrived in Paris, Intended staying about a month, and then return- THE BEAUTY OF FRANCE. 133 ing to Toulon ; he warmly made me an offer of his services, and, during my stay In the capital, sent every morning to know if he should attend me as a friendly guide, to conduct me to any place which Imlght wish to see, or to prevent me from suffering any imposition from tradesmen. His attentions to me, always agreeable, and sometimes serviceable, strongly impressed upon my mind the policy, as well as the pleasure, of treating every being with civility, even where first appearances are not favourable, and where an expectation of meeting the party again Is not probable. In the course of the day I was in troduced to Madame B -, who resides, by permission ofthe first Consul, in a suite of elegant apartments in the Louvre, which have been granted to her on account of her merits and genius, and also in consideration of the losses which she has sustained by the revolution. In her study she presented rae to MademoiseHe T , the then celebrated beauty of Paris; her portrait, by David, had afforded rauch con versation In the fashionable circles ; she was en gaged in copying, with great taste, from the ari- 134 BEAUTY EVANESCENT. tique, which is generally the morning's occupa tion of the French ladies of fashion. She is cer tainly a very handsome young woman : but I think if the painter of France were to visit a cer tain western county of England (Devonshire), he would discover as many attractions for the dls^ play of his admirable pencil, as were at this time to be found in the study of Madarae B — — , When we left her, Madame B-^ — - asked me what I thought of her ; I candidly made the above remark to her. " Ah !" said she, " you «' should have seen her about a month since, she <' was then the prettiest creature in all France ;" how so, has she suffered from indisposition ? *' Oh no," replied Madarae B , smilingly, " but a month, you know, makes a considerable *^ difference upon the face of beauty." I was rauch obliged to Madame B— -r— for the remark, which Is greatly within an observaT tion which I have frequently made, on the evanescent nature of youthful beauty. Madame B 's calculations of the given progress of decay, were eighteen times more swift than mine* The subject of our conversation, and the PLACE DE CAROUSEL. 133 busts by which we were surrounded, naturally led us to talk of the French ladies, and they re minded us of their present mode of attire, which induced Madarae B to enter into a particular account of the decorations of a lady of fashion in France, which I have not patience enough to enumerate here, and shall therefore only observe, that the wife of a fournisseur will not hesitate paying frora three to four hundred pounds for a Cachemire shawl, nor from four to five hundred pounds for a laced gown, nor a njuch larger sum for diamonds cut like pearls, and threaded. In this costly manner does the ingenuity of art, and the prodigality of wealth, do homage to the elegance of nature. The entrance to Madame B 's apartments seemed, at first, a Httle sin gular and unsuitable, but I soon found that it was no unusual circumstance, after groping through dirty passages, and climbing up filthy staircases, to enter a noble hall and splendid rooms. Upon leaving Madame B — — - I passed the Place de Carousel, and saw the ruins of the houses that suffered by the explosion of the infer- 13S INFERNAL MACHINE. nal machine, which afforded so much conversa-. tion in the world at the time, on account of its object being the destruction of the first Consul in his way to the National Institute of Music : an affair for a long time involved in mystery. It is now well known that Monsieur Fouche, at the head of the police, was acquainted with the conr spiracy, of which this machine was to be the in strument, from its first conception, and, by his vigilant agents, was informed of the daily pro gress made in the construction of It, of the plan of which he had even a copy : the conspirators proceeded with perfect confidence, and, as they thought, with perfect security. Three days before it was quite completed, and ready for Its fell purr pose, from some surprise or dread of detection, they changed their place of meeting, and In one night removed the machine from the spot where it had been usually deposited. The penetrating eye of the police lost sight of them. Fouche and his followers exercised their unrivalled talents for pursuit and discovery to no purpose. The baffled minister then waited upon Bonaparte, to whom he had regularly irnparted the result of FOUCHE. 137 every day's information respecting It, and told him that he could no longer trace the traitorous instrument of his assassination, and requested him, as he knew It must be completed by this time, not to go to any public places, until he had regained a knowledge of It, to which Bonaparte replied, that fear only raade cowards and con spirators brave, and that he had unalterably de termined to go with his accustomed equipage td the National Concert that very evening ; and ac cordingly at the usual hour the first Consul set off undismayed from the ThuiHerles, a description of the machine, which was made to resemble a water-cask, being first given to the coachman, servants, and guards : as they proceeded, the advanced guard passed it unobserved, but the coachman discovered it just as the consular car riage was on a parallel with It ; instantly the dexterous and faithful charioteer lashed his horses into fuU speed, and turned the corner of the Rue Marcem, and in one moment after the terrible machine exploded, and covered the street with ruins. The thunder of Its discharge shook the liouses of Paris, and was heard at a considerable 13S SEINE; distance In the country. The first Consul arrived in safety at the Hall of Music, and with every appearance of perfect tranquillity, entered his box amidst the acclamations of the crowded multitude. The range of buildings shattered by the explosion, has long offended the eye of taste, and presented a gloomy, and very inconvenient obstruction to the grand entrance of the palace. Bonaparte, with his usual judgment, whi^ch con verts every event Into some good, immediately after this affair, purchased the damaged houses, and the whole of this scene of ruins and rubbish is re moving with all possible expedition, to the great improvement of the grand approach to the palace. Whilst I was strolling along the banks of the Seine, I could not help remarking that it would suffer much by a comparison with the Thames, so nervously described by sir John Denham— Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, j^et not dull : Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full. and so finely and faithfully delineated In a series of beautiful drawings, by that justly distinguished oriental artist William Daniel, jun. Esq. repre- SEINE. 139 senting the approach to the capital by the river from Greenwich. AFrenchraan, one day, after expatiating upon the magnificence of his metropolitan river, with no little share of national complacency, asked me if the Thames resembled the Seine ; the answer was, " My dear sir, there Is no compari- ** son between them." — His face brightened with •delight. — Well ! said he, — " there is great frank- " ness in the English character." I bowed. — He was satisfied, and so was I. I need not add, that the Seine Is narrow, and very dirty; its waters, which are finely filtrated when drawn from the fountains of Paris, produce an aperient effect upon strangers, who are gene rally cautioned not to drink much of them at a time. The tide does, not reach further than several miles below Paris ; to this cause I can alone at tribute, though perhaps the reason is Insufficient, that the river is never rendered gay by the passing and repassing of beautiful pleasure boats, to the delights of which the Parisians seem total stran gers, Its shores are sadly disfigured by a num- 140 WASHERWOMEN. ber of black, gloomy, and unwieldy sheds, erected upon barges, for the accommodation of the washerwomen, who, by their mode of wash ing, viz. by rubbing the linen in the river water, and beating it with large flat pieces of wood, re sembling battledores, until the dirt, and generally a portion of the linen retire together, make a noise very similar to that of shipwrights caulking a vessel. This Is an abominable nuisance, and renders the view up the river, from the centre of the Pont de la Concorde, the most complete me lange of filth and finery, meanness and magnifi cence, ever beheld. Whilst I am speaking of these valuable, but noisy dames, I must mention that their services are chiefly confined to strangers, and the humbler class of Parisians. The genteel families of France are annoyed by the unpleasant domestic occurrence of washing, when In town only once, and when in the country only twice, in the course of the year. Their magazines of clothes are of course iraraense, for the reception and arrangeraent of which several rooms In their houses are always allotted. It is the intention of the first Consul gradually to unkennel this clattef?- FISHERWOMEN, HI ing race of females, when it can be done with safety. To force them to the tub, and to put them into the suds too suddenly, might, from their influence amongst the lower classes of citi zens, be followed by consequences not very con genial to the repose of the government. To show of what importance the ladies of the lower class in Paris are, I shall relate a little anecdote of Bonaparte, In which he is considered to have exhibited as much bravery as he ever dis played in the field of battle. The polssardes, whose narae alone wUl awak en some emotion In the mind of the reader, from its horrible union with the barbarous massacres which purpled the capital with blood during the revolution, have been from time Immeraorial ac custoraed, upon any great and fortunate event, to send a deputation of their sisterhood to the kings and rainisters of France, and since the revolution to the various rulers of the republic, to offer their congratulations, accompanied by a large bouquet of flowers. Upon the elevation of Bonaparte to the supreme authority of France, according to 142 FISHERWOMEN. custom, they sent a select number from their body to present him with their good wishes, and u sual fragrant donation. The first Consul sternly received them, and after rejecting their nosegay, fiercely told them to retire, and In future to attend to their husbands, their children, and their fisheries, and never raore to attempt an Interfer ence in matters relating to the state. Upon which he ordered the pages in waiting to close the door upon them. He thought no doubt that " Omnium " manibus res humanse egent : paucorum capita " sufficlunt." — " Human affairs require the hands " of all, whilst the heads of few are sufficient." These formidable dames, so celebrated for their ferocity, retired chagrined and chapfallen from the presence of the imperious Consul, and have not attempted to force either their congratu lations, or their bouquets upon any of the public functionaries since that period. Such a repulse as this, offered to a body, more formidable from their influence than the lazzaronl of Naples, would In afl human probability have cost any one of the kings of France his crown. I received BATHS. 143 this anecdote from the brother of one of the mi nisters of France, to whom this country is much indebted. Near the Pont de la Concorde is a handsome and ornamental building, erected upon barges, and contains near three hundred cold and tepid baths, for men and women. It Is surrounded by a wooden terrace, forming an agreeable walk upon the water, and Is decorated with shrubs, orange trees, and flowers, on each side. This place is very grateful In a climate which, in summer, Is Intensely warm. There are other public baths, but this is chiefly resorted to by people of respectability, at the moderate price of thirty sols. 144 CHAPTER Xi. tlavid. — Place de la Concorde. — L'Eglise de Madeleine.— Printshops. — Notre Dame. — Museum or Palace of Arts.— - Hall of Statues. — Laocoon. — Belvidere Apollo. — Socrates. During my stay in Paris I visited the gallery of David, This celebrated artist has amassed an iraraense fortune, and is permitted by bis great patron and friend, Bonaparte, to occupy the cor ner wing of the old palace, frora which every other man of genius and science, who was entitled to reside there, has been removed to other places, in order to raake roora for the reception of the grand National Library, which the first Consul intends to have deposited there. His apartraents are very raagnificent, and furnished in that taste, which he has, by the influence of his farae, and. his elegance of design, so widely and success fully diffused. Whilst seated In his rooms, I could not help fancying myself as breathing in the most tasteful times of Greece. Tunics and DAVID. 145 robes were carelessly but gracefully thrown over the antique chairs, surrounded by elegant statues, and ancient libraries, so disposed as to perfect the classical illusion. I found David in his gar den, putting in the back ground of a painting, dressed in a dirty robe, and covered with an old shabby hat. His eyes are dark and penetrating, and beam with the lustre of genius. His collec tion of paintings and statues, and many of his own studies, afforded a perfect banquet, and he was then occupied in drawing a fine portrait of Bona parte. The presence of David covered the gra tification with gloom. Before me, in the bosom of that art, which is said, with her divine associates, to soften the souls of men, I beheld the remorse^ less judge of his sovereign, the destroyer of his brethren in art, and the enthusiastic admirer and confidential friend of Robespierre. David's politi cal life Is too well known. During the late scenes of horror, he was asked by an acquaintance, how many heads had fallen upon the scaffold that day, to which he is said coolly to have replied, " only " one himdred and tioenty ! I The heads of twenty 14S DAVID. " thousand more must fall before the great work " of philosophy can be accomplished." It is related of him, that during the reign of the Mountain, he carried his portfolio to the front of the scaffold, to catch the last emotions of ex piring nature, from the victims of his revolu tionary rage. He directed and presided at the splendid funeral solemnities of Lepelletier, who was assas sinated by Paris, in which his taste and intimate knowledge of the ceremonies of the ancients, on similar occasions, were eminently displayed. Farewell, David ! when years have roHed away, and time has mellowed the works of thy sublime pencil, in mercy raayst thou be remem bered only as their creator ; may thy fame repose herself upon the tableau of the dying Socrates, and the miraculous passage of the Alpine hero ; may the ensanguined records of thy political phrensy moulder away, and may science, who knew not blood till thou wert known, whose pure and hallowed inspirations have made men happier and better, till thou wert born, implore DAVID. 147 for thee forgiveness, and whilst with rapture she points to the immortal images of thy divine ge nius, may she cover with an Impenetrable paU, the pale, shuddering, and bleeding victims of thy sanguinary soul ! The great abilities of this man have alone enabled him to survive the revolution, which, strange to relate, has, throughout its ravages, preserved a veneration for science, and, in gene ral, protected her distinguished followers. Bo naparte, who possesses great taste, " that Instinct " superior to study, surer than reasoning, and " more rapid than reflection," entertains the greatest admiration for the genius of David, and always consults him in the arrangement of his paintings and statues. All the costumes of go vernment have been designed by this artist. David is not without his adherents. He has many pupils, the sons of respectable, and some of them of noble families, residing in different parts of Europe. They are said to be much at tached to him, and have formed theraselves into a military corps, for the purpose of occasionally doing honour to him, and were lately on the L 2 148 DAVID. point of resenting an insult which had been offered to his person, in a manner that, if per petrated, would have required the interest of their master to have saved them from the scaf fold. But neither the gracious protection of consu lar favour, nor the splendour of unrivalled abili ties, can restore their poHuted possessor to the affections and endearments of social intercourse. Humanity has drawn a sable circle round him. He leads the life of a proscribed exile, in the very centre of the gayest city In Europe. In the gloomy shade of unchosen seclusion "he passes his ungladdened hours, in the hope of covering bis guilt with his glory, and of presenting to posteri ty, by the energies of his unequalled genius, sorae atoneraent for the havoc and ruin of that political hurricane, the fury and desolation of which he directed against every contemporary object whom nature had endeared, and virtue consecrated. After leaving the gallery of David, la Place de la Concorde attracted my attention. This ill- fated spot, from its spaciousness, and beauty of PLACE DE LA CONCORDE. 149 situation, has always been the theatre of the great fetes of the nation, as well as the scene of its greatest calamities. When the nuptials of the late king and queen were celebrated, the raagni ficent fireworks, shows, and illuminations which foHowed, were here displayed. During the ex hibition, a numerous banditti, from Normandy, broke in upon the vast assemblage of spectators : owing to the confusion which foHowed, and the fall of some of the scaffolding, the supporters of which were sawed through by these wretches, the disorder became dreadful and universal ; many were crushed to death, and some hundreds of the people, whilst endeavouring to raake their escape, were stabbed, and robbed. The king and queen, as a raark of their deep regret, order ed the dead to be entorabed In the new burial ground of I'EgHse de Madeleine, then erecting at the entrance of the Boulevard des Italiens, in the neighbourhood of the palace, under the Ira- mediate inspection and patronage of the sove reign. This building was never finished, and stills presents to the eye, a naked pile of lofty walls and columns, Alas ! the glooray auguries 150 l'EGLISE DE MADELEINE. which followed this fatal spectacle, were too truly realized. On that spot perished the monarcn and his queen, and the flower of the French nobility, and many of the virtuous and enlightened men of France, and in this cemetery, their unhonoured remains were thrown, amidst heaps of headless victims, into promiscuous graves of unslacked lime ! How inscrutable are the ways of destiny ! This spot, which, from its enchanting scenery, is calculated only to recal, or to inspire the most tender, and generous, and elegant sentiments, which has been the favoured resort of so many kings, and the scene of every gorgeous spectacle, was doomed to become the human shambles of the brave and good, and the Golgotha of the guillotine ! In the centre, is an oblong square railing, which encloses the exact spot where formerly stood that instrument of death, as voted permanent by its remorseless employers. A temporary model in wood, of a lofty superb monument, two hundred feet high, intended to be erected in honour of Bonaparte and the battle of Marengo, was raised in this place, for his ap- PRINT SHOPS. 151 proval, but from policy or modesty, he declined this distinguished mark of public approbation. It is a matter of a little surprise to observe, in the windows of the principal print shops, prints ex posed to sale, representing the late king, in his full robes of state, under which was written, Le Restaurateur de la liberte (perhaps intended for an equivoque), and also the parting interview be tween that unhappy sovereign and his queen and family in the temple, upon the morning of his ex ecution. This little circumstance wIH show the confi dence the present rulers feel in the strength and security of the present government ; for such re presentations are certainly calculated to excite feelings, and to restore Impressions which might prove a little hazardous to both, were they, less powerfully supported. I was also one morning a little surprised, by hearing from my window, the exhilarating song of '* Rule Britannia" played upon a hand organ; upon looking down into the street, I beheld a Savoyard very composedly turning the handle of his musical machine, as he moved along ; and a 152 NOTRE DAME. — MUSEUM, OR PALACE OF ARTS. French officer humming the tune after him. Both were, no doubt, ignorant of the nationahty of the song, though not of the truth of its sentiment. In the course of one of my morning walks, I went to the metropolitan abbey of Notre Dame, which is situated at the end of a large island in the Seine, which forms a part of Paris, and is fiHed with long narrow streets. It is a fine Gothic pile, but, in my humble opinion, much inferior to our Westminster Abbey, and to the great churches of Rouen, From this building I visited, with a large party, the celebrated Museum, or Palace of Arts, which I afterwards generally frequented every other day. This inestimable collection contains one thou sand and thirty paintings, considered to be the chefs d'oeuvre of the great ancient masters, and •is a treasury of human art and genius, unknown to the most renowned of forraer ages, and far surpassing every other institution of the same nature, in the present times. The first apartment is about the size of the exhibition room of Somerset house, and lighted as MUSEUM, OR PALACE OF ARTS. 153 that is, from above. It contains several exquisite paintings, the fruits of Bonaparte's triumphs, or which have been presented to him by those sovereigns who have cultivated his alliance. The Parisians call this apartment Bonaparte's nose gay. The most costly pictures in the room, are from the gallery of the grand duke of Tuscany. Amongst so raany works, all exquisite and beau tiful. It is almost temerity to attempt to select ; but if I raight be perraitted to name those which pleased me most, I should particularize the Ecce Homo, by Cigoli Ludovico Cardi. The breast of the mild and benevolent Sa viour, striped with the bruises of recent punish ment, and his heavenly countenance, benignly looking forgiveness upon his executioners, are beautifully delineated. L'AnnoncIation, by Gen- tlleschi, in which the divine look of the angel, the graceful plumage of his wings, and the drapery of the virgin, are Incomparable. La Sagesse chassante les Vices, which is a very an cient and curious painting, by Andrea Mantegna, in which the figure of Idleness, without arms, is wonderfully conceived, Les Noces de Cana, by 154 MUSEUM, OR PALACE OF ARTS, Paul Veronese, considered to be the best of his works, is the largest painting I ever beheld. The figures seated at the banquet, are chiefly the portraits of contemporary royal personages of different nations. From this room we passed into the gaflery of the Louvre. Adequately to describe the first impressions which were awakened, upon first entering it, and contemplating such a galaxy of art and genius, would be impossible. This room is one thou sand two hundred feet long, and is lined with the finest paintings of the French, Flemish, and Italian schools, and Is divided by a curious dou ble painting upon slate, placed upon a pedestal in the middle of the room, representing the front and back view of the sarae figures. The first division of this hall contains the finest works of le Brun, many of which are upon an immense scale. L'Hyver, ou le Deluge, by Poussin, Is truly sublime, but is unfortunately placed In a bad light. There are also some beautiful marine paintings, by Vernet. Les ReHgleuses, by Phllipe de Champagne, is justly celebrated for the principal figure of the dying MUSEUM, OR PALACE OF ARTS. 155 nun. Vue de Chevet d'une EgHse, by Emanuel de Witte, is an exquisite little cabinet picture, in whiqh the effect of a ray of light shining through a painted window, upon a column, is inimitable, and the perspective is very fine. There are here also some of the finest works of Wouvermans, and a charming picture by Teniers. La VIerge, I'enfant Jesus, la Madeleine, et St. Jerome, by Antoine AUegri Correge, Is considered to be a picture of great beauty and value. There are also some glorious paintings by Reubens. I have thus briefly selected these pictures from the rest, hoping, at the same time, that it will not be inferred that those which I have not named, of which it would be impossible to offer a descrip tion without fining a bulky volume, are inferior to the works which I have presumed to men tion. The recording pen must rival that match less pencil, which has thus adorned the walls of the Museum, before it can do justice to such a magnificent collection. This exhibition is open to the public three days In the week, and at other times to students and strangers, upon their producing their pass- 156 MUSEUM, OR PALACE OF ARTS. ports. On public days, all descriptions of per sons may be seen here, and the contemplation of such a mixture is not altogether uninteresting. The sun-browned rugged plebeian, whose mind, by the influence of an unexampled politi cal change, has been long alienated from all the noble feelings that religion and humanity Inspire, is here seen, with his arms rudely folded over his breast, softening into pity, before the struggling and sinking sufferers of a deluged world, or silently Imbibing from the divine resigned coun tenance of the crucified Saviour, a hope of un- perlshable bliss beyond the grave. Who will condemn a policy by which Ignorance becomes enlightened, profligacy penitent, and which, as by stealth. Imparts to the relenting bosom of ferocity the subdued and social dispositions of true fraternity ? To amuse, may be necessary to the present government of France, but surely to supplant the wild abandoned principles of a barbarous revolution, with netv impressions, created by an unreserved display of the finest and most per suasive Images of resigned suffering, heroic vir- HALL OF STATUES. — LAOCOON. 157 tue, or elegant beauty, cannot be deemed un worthy of the ruler of a great people. At this place, as well as at all the other national exhibitions, no money for admission is required or expected. No person Is admitted with a stick, and guards attend to preserve the pictures from injury, and the exhibition from riot. The gallery of the Louvre is at present, unfortunately, badly lighted throughout, owing to the light Issuing chiefly on one side, from long windows; an inconvenience, however, which is soon to be remedied, by observing the same manner of lighting as in the adjoining apart ment. From the museum, we descended Into la Salle des Antiques, which contains all the trea sury of Grecian and Roman statuary. The first object to which we hastened, was the statue of Laocoon, for so many ages, and by so many writers, admired and celebrated. This superb specimen of Grecian sculpture Is supposed to be the united production of Polydorus, Athenodorus, and Agesander ; but its great antiquity renders its 158 LAOCOON. history somewhat dubious. In the beginning of the sixteenth century it was discovered at Rome amongst the ruins of the JDalace of Titus, and de posited in the Farnese palace, whence it has been removed to Paris, by the orders of Bonaparte, after the conquest of Italy. It represents Laocoon, the priest of Apollo and Neptune, and his two sons writhing in the folds of two hideous serpents. The reader will remember the beautiful lines of Virgil upon the subject. et primum parva duorum " Corpora natorum serpens amplexus uterque " Implicat, et miseros morsu depascitur artus. " Post, ipsum auxilio subeuntem ac tela ferentem " Corripiunt, spirisque ligant ingentibus : et jam " Bis medium amplexi, bis collo squamea circum " Terga dati, superant capite et cervicibus altis. " Ille simul manibus tendit divellere nodos— " Or, in the English habit which Dryden has given them, " And first around the tender boys they wind, Then with their sharpen'd fangs, their limbs and bodies grind. BELVIDERE APOLLO. 159 " The wretched father, running to their aid, " With pious haste, but vain, they next invade : " Twice round his waist the winding volumes roU'd, " And twice about his gasping throat they fold. " The priest thus doubly chok'd, their crests divide, " And tow'ring o'er his head in triumphs ride. " With both his hands he labours at the knots—" Pliny mentions this statue as the admiration of the age in which he flourished. I fear that I shall be guilty of a sort of profa nation when I remark, that the figures of the two sons of Laocoon appear to exhibit rather raore marks of maturity, and strength of muscle than are natural to their size, and to the supposed ten derness of their age. It is, however, a glorious work of art. We next beheld the Belvidere Apollo, a sta tue, which, in my humble opinion, surpasses every other in the collection. All the divinity of a god beams through this unrivalled perfection of form. It is impossible to impart the impressions which it inspires : the riveted beholder is ready to ex claim, with Adam, when he first discerns the ap proach of Raphael, 160 SOCRATES. " . behold what glorious shape " Comes this way moving : seems another morn " Risen on mid-noon ; some great behest from heav'n." The imagination cannot form such an union of grace and strength. During my stay at Paris, I frequently visited this distinguished statue, and discovered fresh subjects of amazement and ad- rnlratlon as often as I gazed upon it. One of its many transcendant beauties, consists in its aerial appearance and exquisite expression of motion. As It would be a rash and vain attempt to give a coraplete description of this matchless Image, I must, reluctantly, leave It, to inform my reader, that on the other side of the hall are the original Diana, wonderfully fine, and several very beauti ful Venuses, and also some fine whole length sta tues of Roman magistrates, In their curule chairs. The Venus de Medicis had not arrived, but was on her road to this Invaluable depot of art. In the Temple ofthe Muses, are exquisite busts of Homer and Socrates, Pliny informs us that the ancient world possessed no original bust of the forraer ; the latter. Indeed, seems to have been SOCRATES. 161 chiseled to represent the celebrated Athenian before he had obtained his philosophical triumph over those vices which a distinguished physio gnomist of his tim'e once imputed to him from the character of his features. M CHAPTER Xir. * Bonaparte. — Mr. Pitt, — Newspapers. — Archbishop of Paris. — Consular Colours. — Religion. — Consular Conversion.— Madame Bonaparte. — Consular Modesty. — Separate Beds. —A Country Scene. — Connubial Affection. — Female Bra very. A LITTLE anecdote is related of Bonaparte, which unfolded the bold and daring character of this extraordinary man in early life : when he was about fifteen years of age, and a^cadet in the mi litary school at Paris (by the by, the small distance between this seminary and his present palace, and the swiftness of his elevation, afford a curious co incidence), in the vast plain ofthe Champ de Mars, the court, and the Parisians were assembled to wit ness the ascent of a balloon. Bonaparte raade his way through the crowd, and, unperceived, entered the inner fence, which contained the apparatus for inflating the silken globe. It was then very nearly filled, and restrained from its flight by the last cord only. The young cadet requested the aeronaut to permit hira to mount the car with him ; which re- BONAPARTE. l63 quest was immediately refused, from an apprehen sion that the feelings of the boy raight embarrass the experiment. Bonaparte is reported to have exclaimed, " I am young, it is true, but I neither " fear the powers of earth, nor of air," and sternly added, " will you let me ascend ?" The aeronaut, a little offended at his obtrusion, sharply replied, " No, Sir, I will not ; I beg that you will retire." Upon which the little enraged officer drew a sraall sabre, which he wore with his uniforra, instantly cut the balloon in several places, and destroyed the curious apparatus, constructed by the aero naut, with infinite labour and ingenuity, for the purpose of trying the possibility of aerial naviga tion. Paris was alraost unpeopled that day, to view the spectacle ; and the disappointraent of the po pulace, which was said to have exceeded seven hundred thousand persons, became violent and universal. The king sent to know the reason of the tumult : when the story was related to him, the good-humoured monarch laughed heartily, and said, " Upon my word that impetuous boy " will make a brave officer." The devoted king M 2 164 BONAPARTE. little thought that he was destined to be the last of an old dynasty, and that he was speaking of the frst of a neio one. The young offender was put under arrest, and confined for four days. It is a circumstance worthy of remark, that the artillery has furnished France with most of its pre sent distinguished heroes, who have also been bred up in the same military school with Bonaparte.— A short time before my arrival at Paris, this great genius, who displays a perfect knowledge of man kind, and particularly ofthe people over whom he rules, discovered that the Parisians, from a fami liarity with his person, and frora his lady and his family having occasionally joined in their parties of amusement, began to lose that degree of awe and respect for him, which he so well knows how to appreciate, as well as to Inspire ; and, in conse quence, he gradually retired from every circle of fashion, and was at this period almost as inacces sible as a Chinese emperor. The same line of con duct was also adopted by the princlparofficers of government. He resided almost wholly at Mal Maison, except on state days, when only those strangers were permitted to be introduced to him. BONAPARTE. 165 who had satisfied the ambassadors of their re spective nations that they had been previously presented at their own courts. If Bonaparte be spared from the stroke of the assassin, or the prae torian caprice ofthe army, for any length of time, he will have It in his power to augment the ser vices which he has already afforded to the repub lic, by rebuilding the political edifice of France, with many meliorations, for which some materials may be collected from her own ruins, and some from the tried and approved constitutions of other countries. If his ambition will permit him to dis charge this great undertaking faithfully. In a man ner uniforra with that glory which he has acquired in the field, and Influenced only by the noble de sire of giving rational liberty, and practicable hap piness, to the people over whora he sways, they will in return, without jealousy or regret, behold the being to whose wisdom and moderation they will be thus Indebted, led to the highest seat among them — they will confer those sanctions upon his well-merited distinction, without which all authority Is but disastrous usurpation — a co met's blaze, flaming in a night of dismay, and setting in gloom. 166 BONAPARTE. The dignity of such a legislator will be self- maintained and lasting. Upon him, the grateful French will confer those unforced, unpurchased suffrages which wIU prevent that fate, which, in their absence, the subtllty of policy, the fascina tions of address, the charm of corruption, and even the terror ofthe bayonet can only postpone. — Yes, Bonaparte ! millions of suffering beings, raising themselves from the dust, in which a barbarous revolution has prostrated them, look up to thee for- liberty, protection, and repose. They must not look- to thee in vain. The retiring storm still flashing its lessening flame, and rolling its distant thunders, will teach thee, were it necessary, not to force them to re-measure their vengeance by their wrongs. In Paris the achievements of the first consul are not rauch talked of, so true is the old adage, that no man is a hero to his own domestic. The beauties of a colossal statue must 'be contem plated at a distance. The French at present work, walk, eat, drink, and sleep in tranquillity, and what Is of more con sequence to them, they dance in security, to which MR. PITT. 167 may be added, that their taxes are neither very heavy, nor oppressive. In every party which I en tered, the late minister of Great Britain* was the prevailing subject of curiosity, and I was over powered with questions respecting that great man, which, in their minute detail, extended to ascer tain what was the colour of his eye, the shape of his nose, and whether in a morning he wore hussar boots, or shoes, a curiosity which could not fail of proving pleasing to an Englishman, They in formed me, that throughout the war, they regu larly read. In their own diurnal prints, our parlia mentary debates, and the general outline of most of our political schemes, furnished by people in the pay of the French government, who resided in England notwithstanding the severity of the legislative, and the vigilance of the executive au thorities. Whilst I am mentioning the subject of newspaper Intercourse., I cannot help laraenting, that, since the renewal of national friendship, the public prints of both countries are not more under the influence of cordiality and good-humour. * The illustrious Pitt. 168 NEWSPAPERS. The liberty ofthe press is the palladium of rea son, the distributor of light and learning, the pub lic and undismayed assertor of interdicted truth. It is the body and the honour guard of civil and political liberty. Where the laws halt with dread, the freedom of the press advances, and with the subtle activity of conscience, penetrates the forti fied recesses and writes its fearful sentence on the palace wall of recoiling tyrants. As an English man, my expiring sigh should be breathed for its preservation ; but as an admirer of social repose and national liberality, I regret to see its noble energies engaged in the degrading service of fret ful spleen, and ungenerous animadversion. When the horizon is no longer blackened with the smoke of the battle, it is unworthy of two mighty em pires to carry on an ignoble war of words. If peace is their wish, let them manifest the great and enlightened sentiment in all its purity, and disdain to irritate each other by acts of petulant and provoking recrlrainatlon. A short tirae preceding my arrival in France, Bonaparte had rendered himself very popular a- mongst the constitutional clergy, by a well-timed ARCHBISHOP OF PARIS, 169 compliment to the metropolitan archbishop. The first consul gave a grand dinner to this dignified prelate, and to several of his brethren. After the entertainment, Bonaparte addressed the archbl^ shop by observing, that as he had given direc tions for the repairing ofthe archiepiscopal palace, he should very much like to take a ride in the arch bishop's carriage, to s^e the progress the workmen had made. Upon which the prelate bowed, and respectfully Informed him that he had no carriage, otherwise he should be much flattered by conduct ing him thither. Bonaparte good-humouredly said, " How can that be ? your coach has been waiting ' at the gate this half hour," and immediately con ducted the venerable archbishop down the steps of the Thuilleries, where he found a plain hand some carriage, with a valuable pair of horses, and a coachman, and footmen dressed ip the livery which Bonaparte had just before Informed him would be allotted to him when his establishment was completed : the whole a present from the pri vate purse ofthe first consul : upon their arrival at the palace, the archbishop was agreeably surprised by finding that the most minute and Hberal atten- 170 CONSULAR COLOURS. tion had been paid to his comfort, accommodation, and dignity. The clergy seem to be in favour with Bona parte. When he assisted in the last spring at the inauguration of the archbishop of Paris, in the metropolitan church of Notre Dame, and gave to the restoration of religion " all the circumstance " of pomp" and railitary parade, he was desirous of having the colours of his reglraent consecrated by the holy prelate, and subraitted his wishes to his soldiers. A few days afterwards, a deputation waited upon their general in chief, with this re ply, " Our banners have already been consecrated " by the blood of our enerales at Marengo; the " benediction of a priest cannot render them more " sacred In our eyes, nor more animating in the " time of battle." Bonaparte prudently submit ted himself to their praetorian resolution, and the consular colours reraain to this hour in the sarae tinchistianlike condition as when they first Waved at the head of their victorious legions. This an- , ecdote wlH in some degree prove a fact which, notwithstanding the counter-reports of English newspapers, I found every where confirmed, that CONSULAR MODESTY. 171 although religion is new to the French, yet that the novelty has at present but Httle charm for them, and I had frequent opportunity of confirm ing this remark, as well in the capital as in the de partments ofthe republic through which I passed. In Paris, the sabbath can only be considered as a day of dissipation to the lovers of gaiety, and a day of unusual profit to the man of trade. Here, It is true, upon particular festival days, considerable bodies of people are to be seen In the act of wor ship ; but curiosity, and the love of show, assemble them together, if it were otherwise their attend ance would be more numerous and regular. The first consul does not seem to possess much fashion able influence over the French In matters of reli gion, otherwise, as he Is considered as an honor ary member of all religions, «nd has the credit of attending mass with very pIou§ punctuality. In his private chapel at Mal Malson, It might be rather expected, that devotion would become a little more familiar to the people. Upon another subject, the wishes of the chief magistrate have been equally unfortunate ; for to the few ladles who are admitted into his social cir-^ 172 MADAME BONAPARTE. cles, he has declared himself an enemy to that dress, or undress (I am puzzled to know what to call it), which his favourite artist, David, has so successfully recomraended, for the purpose of displaying, with the least possible restraint, the fine proportions of' the feraale form. Madame Bonaparte, who is considered to be in as good a state of subordination to her young husband, as the consular regiment Is to their young general, contrives to exhibit her elegant person to great advantage, by adopting a judicious and grace ful medium of dress, which enables her to avoid a load of decoration, and that questionable airi ness of ornament which, by Its gracious and un restrained display, deprives the imagination of more than half Its pleasures. Bonaparte Is said not to be Indifferent.to those affections which do honour to the breast which cherishes them, nor to the morals of the people whom he governs. It is well known that In France, In the house of a new fashionable couple, separate chambers are always reserved for the faiihful pair, which, after the honey-moon is in the wane, very seldom remain unoccupied. The first consul considers SEPARATE BEDS. 173 such separations as unfriendly to morals. A few months since, by a well-timed display of assumed ignorance, he endeavoured to give fashion to a sentiment which may in time reduce the number of these family accommodations. The noble palace of St. Cloud was at this time preparing for him ; the principal architect requested of him to point out in what part of the palace he would wish to have his separate sleeping room. " I do " not know what you mean," said the young imperial philosopher, " criraes only divide the " husband from his wife. Make as many bed " rooras as you please, but only one for me iand " Aiadame Bonaparte." I must now quit the dazzling splendor of im perial virtues for the more tranquil, but not less fascinating appearance of retired and modest merit. It was in the afternoon of one of tbe finest days in June, when Madame O , with her nephew, a very amiable young man, cafled In their carriage and took me to the chateau of her husband, to whom I had letters of Intro duction. After passing through a charming 174 COUNTRY SCENE. country for nine miles, adorned on each side with gardens^ and country houses, we arrived at the pleasant village of la Reine. As soon as we entered it, the sight of the carriage, and of their benefactress, seeraed to enliven the faces of the villagers, who were seated in picturesque groupes at thc-doors of their cottages. Such animated looks were not lighted up by curiosity, for they had seen Madame O a thousand and a thousand times, but because they had sel dom seen her without experiencing some en dearing proof of her bountiful heart. We left the village to the right, and proceeded through a private road, lined with stately walnut trees, of nearly a mile in length, which led to Monsieur O 's. It was evening; the sky was cloud less, the sun was setting In great glory, and covered the face of this romantic country with the richest glow. Near the gate of a shrubbery I beheld a very handsome boy, whose appear ance at once bespoke him to be the son of a gentleman, the animated smile of Madame O — ^ immediately convinced me that it was her child ; " See," said the delighted mother, " it is my COUNTRY SCENE. 175 " little gardener ;" the young graceful rustic had a small spade in his hand, which he threw down, and ran to us. We alighted at the entrance of the garden, into which we entered, under a beautiful covered treiflage, lined with jessamine and honeysuckles. At the end were two elegant young women, waiting, with deHght, to receive their mother, from whom they had been separated only a few hours. With this charming faraily I entered the house, which was handsome but plain. The hospitable owner rose from his sofa, and, after embracing his elegant lady with great affection, he received me with all the expressions and warmth of a long friendship. Soon after wards his servant (a faithful Indian) entered, and spread upon the table Madeira, Burgundy, and dried fruits. It was intensely hot ; the great window at the end of the room in which we were sitting, opened into the gardens, which appeared to be very beautiful, and abounded with night ingales,, warbling most sweetly. " They are my " little musicians," said Monsieur O , " we " have made a pleasant bargain together, I give " them crumbs of bread, and my bowers to range 176 CONNUBIAL APFECTI&N. " in, and they give me this charming music every " evening." Monsieur O * was an invalide ; the re volution, poignant vexations, heavy losses, and a painful separation from his native country, fijr the preservation of his life, and that of his family, had undermined his health. Grief had raade sad inroads upon a delicate constitution. It was his good fortune to be the husband of one of the finest and most amiable women in France, and the father of an affectionate, beautiful, and 'Ac complished family. His circurastances had been once splendid ; they were then respectable, but he had passed through events which threatened his all. Those sufferings, which generous souls sustain for the sake of others, not for theraselves, had alone destroyed the reserablance which once existed between this excellent man and his ad mirable portrait, which, at the further end of the room, presented the healthy glow, and fine pro portions of manly beauty. He expressed to me. * It was this ISIonsieur C and faraily who excited the disinterested feelings ofthe Mai tresse d' Hotel -at Rouen. CONNUBIAL AFFECTION. 177 in the most charming manner, his regret, that indisposition confined him to the country, and prevented hira frora receiving me In Paris suitable to his own wishes, and to those claims which I had upon his attentions, by the letters of intro duction which I had brought to him ; but added, that he should furnish me with letters to some of his friends in town, who would be happy to supply his absence, and to make Paris agreeable to me. Monsieur O was as good as his word. — This amiable gentleman possessed a countenance of great genius, and a mind full of inte]Hgen,ce,. After an elegant supper, when his lady and daughters had withdrawn, he entered Into a very interesting account of his country, of the revolu tion, and of his flight for the salvation of himself and family. A tolerably good opinion m^y be formed of the devastation which has been pro duced by the late republican government, yfcy the following circurastance, which Monsieur O assured me, on the word of a man of honour, was correct. His section in Paris was composed of one N 178 CONNUBIAL AFFECTION. thousand three hundred persons, of rank and fortune, of whom only five had escaped the slaughter of the guillotine ! ! Madame 0-. — , and her charming family, seeraed wholly to occupy his heart and affec tions. He spoke of his lady with all the tender eulogium of a young lover. Their union was entirely from attachment, and had been resisted on the part of Madarae O •, when he first addressed her, only because her fortune was humble, compaieti with his. He informed rae, and I must not suppress the story, that in the time of blood, this amiable woman, who is re markable for the delicacy of her mind, and for the beauty and majesty of her person, displayed a degree of coolness and courage, which, in the field of battle, would have covered the hero with laurels. One evening, a short period before the family left France, a party of those murderers, who were sent for by Robespierre, from the frontiers which divide France frorn Italy, and who were by that arch fiend employed in all the butcheries and massacres of Paris, entere?i the FEMALE BRAVERY. 179 peaceful village of la Reine, in search of Mons. O . His lady saw them advancing, and an ticipating their errand, had just time to give her husband InteHIgence of their approach, who left his chateau by a back door, and secreted hiraself in the house of a neighbour. Madarae O— , with perfect composure, went out to meet thera, and received them in the most gracious manner. They sternly demanded Monsieur O , she informed them that he had left the country, and after engaging them in conversation, she con ducted them into her drawing room, and regaled them with her best wines, and made her' servants attend upon them with unusual deference and ceremony. Their appearance was altogether horrible, they wore leather aprons sprinkled all over with blood, they had large horse pistols in their belts, and a dirk and sabre by their sides, their looks were full of ferocity, and they spoke a harsh dissonant Patois language. As they drank, they talked about the bloody business of that day's occupation, in the course of which they drew out their dirks, and wiped from their handles clots of blood and hair, Madame O ¦ N 2 IBO FEMALE BRAVERY. sat with thera, undismayed by their frightful de portment; and after drinking several bottles of Champaign and Burgundy, these savages began to grow good humoured, and seeraed to be com pletely fascinated by the amiable and unembar rassed, and hospitable behaviour of their fair landlady. After carousing till midnight, they pressed her to retire, observing that they had been received so handsomely that they were convinced Monsieur O r- had been misrepresented, and was no enemy to the good cause ; they added, that they found the wines excellent, and after drinking two or three bottles more, they would leave the house, without causing her any reason to regret their admission. Madame O , with all the appearance of perfect tranquIHIty and confidence In their pro mises, wished her unwelcome visitors a good night, and after visiting her children in their rooms, threw herself upon her bed, with a loaded pistol in each hand, and, overwhelmed with sup pressed agony and agitation, she soundly slept till she was called by her servants, two hours after these wretches had left the house. He FEMALE BRAVERY. 181 related also another instance of that resolution not unfrequently exhibited by women, when those generous affections, for which they are so justly celebrated, are menaced with danger. About the same period, two of the children of Monsieur O were in Paris at school: a rumour had reached him, that the teachers of the serainary in which they were placed, had offended the go- vernraent, and were Hkely to be butchered, and that the carnage which was expected to take place, raight. In its undlstlngulshing fury, extend to the pupils. Imraediately upon receiving this intelHgence, Mof^sleur O ordered his car riage, for the purpose of proceeding' to town. Madarae O iraplored of hira to permit her to accompany him ; In vain did he beseech her to remain at home ; the picture of danger which he painted, only rendered her more determined. She mounted the carriage, and seated herself by the side of herhusband. When they reached Paris^ they were stopped In the middle of the street St. Honore, by the massacre of a large number of prisoners who had just been taken out of a church which had been converted into a prison : their 182 FEMALE BRAVERY. ears were pierced with screams : many of the miserable victims were cut down, clinging to the windows of their carriage : but during this ghastly scene, and the dreadful delays which they suffered in passing through this street, Madame O— — discovered no sensations of alarm, but stedfastly fixed her eyes upon the back of the coach-box, to avoid, as much as possible, ob serving the butcheries perpetrated on each side of her ; for had sh^ been observed to close her eyes, or to sit back in the carriage, she would have excited a suspicion, which, no doubt, would have proved fatal to her : at length she reached the school which contained her children, where she found the rumour they had received was with out foundation ; she calmly conducted them to the carriage, and during their gloomy return through Paris, betrayed no emotions ; but as soon as they had passed the barrier, and were once more in safety upon the road to their peace ful chateau, the exulting mother, in an agony of joy, pressed her children to her bosom, and in a. state of mind wrought up to phrensy, arrived at her own house in convulsions of ghastly laughter. FEMALE BRAVERY. 183 Monsieur O never spoke of this charming woman, without exhibiting the strongest emotions of regard. He said, that in sickness she suffered no one to attend upon him but herself, that in all his afflictions she had supported him, and that she mitigated the deep melancholy which the sufferings of his country, and his own privations, had fixed upon him, by the well-timed sallies of her elegant fancy, or by the charms of her vari ous accomplishments. I found myself a gainer in the article of de light, by leaving the gaiest metropolis that Europe can present to a traveller, for the sake of visiting such a family. 184 CHAPTER XIIL Breakfast. — Warmth of French Expression. — Rustic Elo^ quence. — Curious Cause assigned for the late extraordinary Frost.— Madame fe . — Paul I.^ — Tivoli. — Frescati. In the morning we hreakfasted in the drawing- room, in which the murderous myrmidons of Robespierre had been regaled, which was beau tifully situated, looking into a grove of valuable American shrubs. His youngest daughter, a beautiful little girl of about five yeafs of age, rather hastily entered the room with a pair of tame wood pigeons in her hands, which, in her eagerness to bring to her father, she had too forcibly pressed, who very gently told her, it was cruel to hurt her little favourites, more particu larly as they were a species of bird remarkable for Its unoffending innocence. The little creature burst Into tears, " My little Harriet, why do you " weep ?" said her father, kissing her white fore head, and pressing her to him. " Why do you WARMTH OF FRENCH EXPRESSION. 185 ""rebuke me?" said the Httle sufferer, "when *' you know I love you so much that I could ki^s " your naked heart.^' I mention this circumstance, to show how early in Hfe the French children Imbibe the most charming expressions, by which their more ma ture conversation is rendered so peculiarly cap tivating. During our repast, a circumstance occurred which produced an unusual vivacity amongst all the party, and afforded a specimen of the talent and pleasantry of the French coun try people. The gardener entered, with the paper, and letters of the day. Amongst them was a letter which had been opened, appeared very much disordered, and ought to have been received upon the preceding day. Monsieur O seemed much displeased, and called upon his man to explain the matter. The gardener, who possessed a countenance beaming with animation and good humour, made a low bow, and, without appearing to be In the least degree disconcerted, proceeded to unfold the affair with the most playful ingenuity, by stating that the dairy maid was very pretty, that she made every 186 RUSTIC ELOGUENCB. body in love with her, and was very rauch in love herself, that she was accustomed to receive a great number of billets doux, which, on account of her education having been far below her in comparable merits, she was not able to under stand, without the assistance of NIcolene, the groom, who was her confidant, and amanuensis ; that on the day before, he gave her the letter In question, with directions to carry it to his master, that under the influence of that thoughtful ab sence which Is said to attend the advanced stages of the tender passion, she soon afterwards con ceived that It was no other than a customary ho mage from one of her raany adrairers, upon which she committed the supposed depository of tender sighs and brittle vows, to the warm custody of her glowing bosom, than which, the gardener (who at this moment saw his master's eyes were en gaged by the sullied appearance of the letter) de clared that nothing was fairer; he again pro ceeded, by observing, that iaf the course of the preceding evening, as she was stooping to adjust her stool in the meadow, the cow kicked, and the epistle tumbled into the milk pail; that she RUSTIC ELOaUENCE. 187 afterwards dried it by the kitchen fire, and gave it, for the reasons before assigned, to her con fidential friend to explain to her, who soon dis covered it to be a letter of business, addressed to his master, instead of an impassioned love ditty for tbe tender Marie ; that, finally, all the prin cipals concerned in this unhappy affair were overwhelmed with distress, on account of the sad disaster, and that the kitchen had lost all Its viva city ever since. No advocate could have pleaded more eloquently. All the faraily, frora its chief to little Harriet, whose tears were not yet dried, were in a continued fit of laughing. The gar dener, whose face very largely partook of the gaiety he had so successfully excited, was commissioned, by his amiable master, to tell the distressed dairy maid, that Love always carried pardon In his hand for all his offences, and that he cheerfully forgave her, but directed the gar dener, to prevent a recurrence of similar acci dents, not again to trust her with his letters until the tender disease was radically removed. The rustic orator gracefully bowed ; and left us to finish our breakfast with increased good humour. 188 CAUSE OF THE LATE EXTRAORDINARY FROST. and to carry forgiveness and consolation to poor Marie and all her condoling friends In the kitchen. Before we had completed Our repast, a little de formed elderly lady made her appearance, whose religion had been shaken by the revolution Into a crazy and gloomy superstition ; scarcely had she seated herself before she began a very rapid and voluble corament upon the change of the times, and the devastations which the late extraordinary frost had committed upon the vineyards of France, which she positively asserted, with the confidence which only the arrival of her tutelar saint with the intelligence ought to have inspired, was sent as an appropriate judgment upon the republic, to punish it, for suffeiing the ladies of Paris to go so thinly clothed. Monsieur O heard her very patiently throughout, and then observed, that the ways of Heaven were Inscrutable, that human ingenuity was baffled. In attempting to draw In ferences from Its visitations, and that it did not appear to him at least, that an offence which was assuredly calculated to Inspire sensations of warmth and tenderness, was appropriately pu nished by a chastisement of an opposite tendLUcy; CAUSE OF THE LATE EXTRAORDINARY FROST. 189 to which he added, that some moralists who In dulged in an endeavour to connect causes and effects, might think it rather incompatible with their notions of ^ternal equity, to endeavour to clothe the ladles, by stripping the land to naked ness — here the old lady could not help smiling : her amicable adversary pursued the advantage his pleasantry had produced, by informing her, that prognostications had been for a long period dis countenanced, and that formerly when the ancient augurs, after the ceremonies of their success ful Illusions were over, met each other by acci dent in the street, impressed by the ridiculous re membrance of their impositions, they could not help laughing in each other's faces. Madame V laughed too; upon which Monsieur O , very good humouredly told her, that, as a sooth sayer, she certainly would not have smiled, unless she intended to retire for ever from the office. Previous to my taking leave of Monsieur O and his charming family, we walked In the gar dens, where oar conversation turned upon the ex traordinary genius, who. In the character of first Consul of the French, unites a force and extent igO TALLEYRAND. of sway unknown to the kings of France, frora their first appearance to the final extinction of monarchy. He told me that he had the honour of know ing hira with intimacy from his youth, and ex tolled, with high eulogy, his splendid abilities, and the great services which he had rendered France. He also related several amiable anecdotes of the minister Talleyrand, who, when in America, had lived with him a considerable time under the same roof. At length the cabriolet, which was to bear me from this Httle Paradise, approached the gate, and the moment arrived when I was to part witb one of the most charming families to be found in the bosom of the republic. As Monsieur O — •— pressed me by one hand, and placed that of his Httle Harriet in my other, a tear of exquisite tenderness roHed down his cheek; it seemed to express that we should never meet again on this side the grave. Excellent being ! If it must be so. If wasting and ^msparlng sickness Is destined to tear thee ere long from those who delight thine eye, and soothe thine MADAME R . 191 heart in the midst of Its sorrows, may the angel of peace smile upon thee in thy last raoraents, and bear thy mild and generous, and patient spirit, to the realms of eternal repose! Adieu! dear family of la Reine. Upon my return to Paris, I proceeded to the hotel of Monsieur R . Curiosity led me to view the house, and the celebrated bed of his lady, then In London. The little vanities and eccentricities of this elegant, amiable, and hospitable lady, will find immediate forgiveness, when it is known that she is now very young, and was married, when an indulged child of the age of fourteen, to her pre sent husband. She Is one of David's most en thusiastic adrairers, and has carried the rage for Grecian undress to an extremity, which, even in the capital, left her without a follower. In the public walks of the Champs Elysees, she one evening presented herself in a dress which almost rivalled the robes of Paradise ; the Parisians, who are remarkable for their politeness to women, and are not remarkable for scrupulous sentiments of delicacy, were so displeased with 192 MADAME R . her appearance, that they made a lane to the en trance for her, and expelled the modern Eve from the Elysian Fields, not with a " flaming- " sword of Wrath,"~but with hisses softly uttered, and by gentle tokens of polite disapprobation. She used at her parties to tell her friends, that her cabinet was crowded with letters ofthe most im passioned love, from persons of the first fame, distinction, and opulence ; and, when conversa tion began to pause, she would introduce some cf tbese melting epistles, which she Is said to have read with a bewitching pathos, and never failed to close the fond recital by expressions of the tenderest pity for the sufferings of their Ill- starred authors. She has declared, that sorae of her lovers equal the Belvidere Apollo in beauty, but that she never has yet seen that being, who was perfect enough to be entitled to the posses sion of her affections, . Do not smile. Madame Rt-t is a disciple of Diana, even slander pays incessant homage to her chastity, and rumour has whispered, in every corner of Paris, that her hus band is only admitted to the honour of supplying the finances of her splendid ,and costly establish- MADAME Br . — PAUL I. 193 ment. Madame R has not yet produced any of the beautiful and eloquent arguments of Cornelia, to disprove the strange assertion. Her chamber, which constitutes one of the sights of Paris, and which, after what has been just raen tioned, may be justly considered, in or out of France, as a great curiosity, is fitted up in a style of considerable taste, and even magnificence. The bed upon which this charraing statue re poses, is a superb sofa, raised upon a pedestal, the ascent to which is by a flight of cedar steps ; on each side are altars, on which are placed Her culaneum vases of flowers, and a large antique lamp of gold ; the back of the bed is formed by an immense pier glass, and the curtains, which are of the most costly muslin, festooned with golden tassels, descend in beautiful drapery from a floral crown of gold. It is said that the late emperor of Russia, after the laborious and suc cessful diplomatic intrigues of Messrs. Talleyrand and Sieyes, and a certain lady, becarae enamour ed, by description, with the immaculate goddess of Mont Blanc, and that he sent confidential commissioners to Paris, to report her daily dressj 194 teltlTKH AMBASSADOR, and to order copies of her furniture, &c, : the story may be believed, when the herb of it was well known to be fully qualified for one Of the deepest dungeons of a ifiadhouse. I hope, for the sake of society, and the repose of the world, that the rest of Madame R— ;¦— 's admirers have not united to their passion the bewildered imagina tion, which fatally distinguished, and finally closed, the career of her imperial lover. Monsieur R is very polite to the EngHsh^ and his letters ensure the greatest attention wherever they are produced. From Mont Blanc I proceeded to the Hotel de Caramand, the residence of the British am bassador, to whom I had a letter of introduction, frora a particular friend of his, and who received me with great politeness. His apartments were handsome, and looked into some beautiful gar dens. Amongst the English, who were at this time in Paris, a Httle prejudice existed against the representative of the British monarch, fi-om a reason, which, within the jurisdiction of the lord mayor of London, and of most corporate towns in England, will be considered to carry consider TIVOLI, 195 able weight. The envoy did not celebrate the late birthday of his sovereign by a jolly and con vivial dinner. The fact was, Mr. Merry, who by the sudden return of Mr. Jackson, became un expectedly invested with the dignity of an am bassador, was in constant expectation of being recalled, to make room for the intended appoint ment of lord Whitworth to the consular court, in consequence of which, he had not prepared for the display of those splendid hospitalities, which, on such occasions, always distinguish the table of a British house of embassy. On a Sunday evening, I v/ent with a party to Tivoli, a favourite place of amusement with the Parisians. At the entrance we found, as at ali the public places, a guard of horse and foot. The admission is twenty sols. The evening was very fine, and we passed immense crowds of people, who were flocking to the same place, amongst whom were many elegant, well dressed women, wholly unattended by gentlemen, a cir cumstance by no means unusual In Paris. Tivoli seemed to be raised by the magic touch of en chantment : we entered upon gravelled walks, o 2 196 Tfvotl. which powers, and lavished their munificent resources, in erecting Gothic magazines of gunpowder, and Saxon sheds for the accommodation of atheistic fabricators of revolutionary cannon balls. The young observer in private, and by stealth, imbibed, from parental precept or example, the sentiment of a national religion, suppressed, not extinguished, or in the gloomy absence of all in dications of it, remained unsolicited by any rival mode of worship to bestow his apostasy upon an alien creed. Thus the minds of the rising gene ration, who were engaged in favour of the catholic persuasion, during the frightful period of its long denunciation, by stolen, secluded, and unfinished displays of its spirit and form, contemplated its return with animated elation, or beheld its ap proach unimpressed with those doubts or pre judices which all competitions excite ; in that auspicious hour, when the policy, if not the piety of a powerful government, restored it to the French people. 1 was much gratified by being presented to the celebrated philosopher Monsieur Charles, by Madame S . He has a suite of noble apart- 236 MONSIEUR CHARLES. ments in the Louvre, which have been bestowed upon him by the government, as a grateful re ward for his having presented to the nation his magnificent collection of philosophical apparatus. He has also, in consideration of his ability and experience, been constituted the principal lec turer on philosophy. In these rooms his valuable and costly donation Is arranged. In the centre of the dome of the first apartment, called the Hall of Electricity, Is suspended the car qf the first balloon which was Inflatetl with Inflamraable air, in which he and hh brother ascended in the afternoon ofthe 1st of December, 1783, In which they continued in the air for an hour and three quarters ; an4 after j.hey had descended. Monsieur C rose alone to the astonishing height of 10,500 feet. In the sarae roora are immense electrical machines and batteries, some of which ha4 been presented to him by Madame S . In this room, amongst many other fanciful fir gures, which are used for the purpose of enlivening the solemnity of a philosophical lecture by exciting sentiments of innocent gaiety, was a little Cupid. The tiny god, with his arrow in his hand, was OPTICAL ILLUSION. 23? Insulated upon a throne of glass, and was charged with that electric fluid which not a little resem bles the subtile spirit of his nature. The youngest daughter of Madame S , who accompanied us, was requested to touch it. In a moment It discharged its penetrating spark-^-" Oh ! how " that Httle god has alarmed me !" said the recoil ing fair one, whose youthful countenance surprise had covered with new beauties ; " but yet," said she, recovering herself, " he does not hurt." This Httle sally may be considered as a specimen of that playful sprightliness which is so much the characteristic of the French female. In the centre of another room, dedicated to optics, as we entered, we saw a beautiful nosegay in a vase, which appeared to be composed of the rarest flowers. I approached it with an intention oi inhaling its fragrance : but when I attempted Ao touch it, my hand passed through it. It was an exquisite optical illusion. "Ah!" said my elegant and moralising companion, Madame S— — , smiling, " of such flowers has Happiness " composed her wreath : it is thus she gladdens 238 MONSIEUR CilARtfeS. " with It the eye of Hope ; but the hand of Ex^ " pectation can never grasp it." The graceful moral deserves a more lasting record than it wiH find in this evanescent narra tive. In the other rooms are all sorts of apparatus for trying experiments in the various branches of that department of science, over which Monsieur C so ably presides. The merit of Monsieur C— — has no rival but in his modesty. Considering the rank and estimation which he bears in the republic, his external appearance Is singularly unassuming. I have been with him In the gardens of the Thuille ries, when they were thronged with the fashion and gaiety of Paris, where he has appeared In a suit of plain brown cloth, an old round hat with a little national cockade in it, under which he pre sented a countenance full of character, talent, and animation. In this homely puritan garb, he ex cited more respectful curiosity, wherever he moved, than some generals who paraded before u? in dresses upon which the tailor and embroi- ST. ROCQUE. — HOTEL DES INVALIDES. 239 derer had long laboured, and who added to their stature by laced hats entirely filled" with gaudy buoyant plumes. From Monsieur Charles we went to the church of St. Rocque, In the Rue St. Honore. As we entered, the effect of a fine painting of our Saviour crucified, upon which the sun was shining with great glory, placed at the extremity of the church, and seen through several lessening arches of faint, increasing shade, was very grand. This church has been more than once the scene of revolutionary carnage. Its elegant front Is much disfigured, and the doors are perforated, in a great number of places, by the ball of cannon and the shot of musketry. Mass was perform ing In the church ; but we saw only few wor shippers, and those were chiefly old women and little girls. From St- Rocque we proceeded to the Hotel des Invalides, the chapel and dome of which are so justly celebrated. The front is Inferior to the military hospital at Chelsea, to which it bears some resemblance. The chapel Is converted into .the Hall of Victory, in which, with great 240 Enemies' colours. taste, are suspended, under descriptive medallionsi the banners of the enemies of the republic, which have been taken during the late war, the num bers of which are immense. The same decora tion adorns the pilasters and gallery of the vast magnificent dome at the end of the hall. My eye was naturally occupied, immediately after we had entered, in searching amongst the most battered of the banners, for the British co lours ; at last I discovered the jack and ensign of an English man of war, pierced with shot-holes, and blackened with smoke, looking very sulky, and indignantly amongst the finery, and tawdry tatters of Italian and Turkish standards. In the course of this pursuit, I caught the in telligent eye of Madarae S — — . She iraraedlately assigned to my search the proper motive. " Ah !" said she, laughingly, and patting me on the arm with her fan, " we are, as you see, my dear En- " glishman, very vain ; and you are very proud." A stranger to the late calamitous war, unable to marshal In his mind the enemies of the repub- Hc, might here, with a glance of his eye, whilst contemplating this poor result of devastation. enemies' colours. 241 enumerate the foes of France, and appreciate the facilities or difficulties of the victory. In observing, amidst this gaudy show of captive colours, only two hard-won banners of their rival, enemy, he would draw a conclusion too flattering and familiar to an English ear, to render it necessary to be recorded here. Upon the shattered standards of Austria he would confer the meed of raerlted applause for heroic, although unprevailing, bravery. To the banners of Prussia he would say, "I " know not whether principle or policy, or trea- " chery, or corruption, deterred you from the " field — Your looks exhibit no proofs of sincere " resistance." The Neapolitan ensign might excite such sentiments as these : " You appear for a short " time to have faced the battle — You were un- " fortunate, and soon retired." To the gaudy drapeaus of the Italian and Turkish legions, which everywhere present the appearance of belonging to the wardrobe of a pantomlraic hero, he would observe, " The scent " of the battle has not perfumed you ; its sraoke R 242 ENEMIES* COLOUS.S.— STATUES. " has not sullied your shining, silky, sides. Ye " appear in numbers, but display no marks of " having waved before a brave, united, and ener- " getic band." In this manner might he triace the various fate of the war. Upon several of the staffs only two or three shreds of colours are to be seen ad- hering. These are chiefly Austrian. On each side of the chapel are large, and some of them valuable, paintings, by the French masters, re presenting the conquests of the French armies at different asras. It is a matter not unworthy of observation, that, although the revolution, with a keen and savage eye, explored, too successfully, almost every vestige of a royal tendency, the beautiful pavement under the dome of the Invalides has escaped destruction. The fleur de lis, surmount ed by the crown of France, still retains its origi nal place in this elegant and costly marble floor ing. The statues of the saints have been re moved ; and their places are supplied by the new order of revolutionary deities ; but the names of the ancient figures have not been erased from the STATUES. 243 pedestals of the new ones : to which omission the spectator is indebted for a smile when, contem plating the statue of Equality, he reads. Immedi ately below his feet, " St. Louis." There is here a costly raonument erected to the memory of the brave marshal Turenne, who was killed by a cannon-ball in 167.5. In my hum ble opinion, it is too much in the false taste of French statuary. A group of weeping angels surround the recumbent hero, in the attitudes of operatic figurantes, in whose faces, and forms, the artist has attempted, too laboriously and artifici ally, to delineate the expressions of graceful grief. On each side of the vast arch which di vides the dome from the chapel, are raised the tablets of military honour, on which;' in charac ters of gold, the names of those soldiers are re corded, who have distinguished themselves for their achievements In the late war. As we were contemplating a painting upon a very large scale, in which, amongst other figures. Is an uncovered whole length of a warrior; a prudish-looking lady, who seemed to have touched the age of despera tion, after having very attentively beheld it with R 2 S44 THE AGED CAPTAIN. her glass for some time, observed to her party, that there was a great deal of indecorum in the picture. Madame S very shrewdly whis pered in my ear, that the indecorum was in the reraark. When we were just leaving the chapel, we overheard a sun-browned soldier, who had lost both his legs, observe to his companion, to whom he was explaining the colours, pointing to the banners of the Turkish cavalry, the tops of whose staffs were surmounted with horses' tails, " Look " at those ribbands, they are not worthy of being " worn when won." This military hospital « is capable of accoraraodating 3,000 soldiers. The bed-rooms, kitchens, refectory, and out-offices, are very capacious, and, what is rather unusual in France, clean and comfortable. The day before we were there, the first consul paid a visit to its veteran inhabitants. Amongst them, he recog nised an old and very brave soldier, whose exploits were the frequent theme of his aged comrades. The young'general told him that he should die a captain, took him in his carriage to dine with him at Mal Malson, presented him MILITARY SCHOOL. 245 with a medaflion of honour, and conferred upon him the rank of a captain, in one of the most dis tinguished regiments. From this place we went to the military school adjoining, in which Bonaparte received the rudiments of that education which was des tined to forra the foundation of his future glory. The building Is large and handsome, and is, from a very natural sentiment, in high favour with the first consul. There is nothing In It particular to describe. The grounds and gardens are very spacious and fine. In the front of the' military school Is the celebrated Champ de Mars, which is an iraraense flat space of ground. On each side are rising terraces of earth, and double rows of trees ; and at the further end, the river Seine flows. On days of great national celebrations, this vast plain Is surrounded with Gobelins tapes try, statues, and triumphal arches. After con templating these objects of public curiosity, we returned to Monsieur S to dinner, where we met a large party of very pleasant people. Amongst them I was pleased with seeing a near relative of an able and upright minister of 24'6 GARDEN OF MOUSSEAU. the republic, to whose unwearied labours the world is not a Httle indebted for the enjoyments of its present repose *. After dinner we drove to the beautiful garden of Mousseau, formerly the property of the due d'Orleans. It is laid out with great taste, and delights the eye with the most romantic speci mens of Improved rural beauty. It was originally designed by its detestable owner for other pur poses than those of affording to a vast and crowded city' the innocent delights and recrea tions of 'retired and tasteful scenery. In the gloom of its groves, all sorts of horrible profana tions were practised by this monster and his mid night crew, at the head of whom was Legendre the Butcher. Every rank recess of pollution in Paris was ransacked to furnish materials for the celebration of their impure and impious orgies. The ode to Atheism, and the song of Blasphemy, were succeeded by the applauding yells of Drunkenness and Obscenity. At the time we visited this garden it belonged to the nation, and was open, on certain days, to * Monsieur Otto, who negotiated the peace with England at this time. ' ' UNES TO MADKM01SEU,E D. S — . 24 J_ well-dressed people. A few days afterwards, it was presented, as a mark of national esteem, to Cambaceres, the second consul. Here we rambled till the evening. The sun was setting. The nightingales were singing in great numbers. Not a cloud was to be seen. A breeze, blowing through a plantation of roses, re freshed us with its coolness and fragrance. In a sequestered part of this beautiful ground, under the embowering shades of Acacia trees, upon the ruins of a little temple, we seated ourselves, and were regaled by some charraing Italian duets, which were sung by Madame S and her lovely daughter, with the most enchanting pathos. I hope I shall be pardoned for introducing some lines which were written upon our return, by an enthusiastic admirer of merit and music. TO MADEMOISELLE D. S. In Mousseau's sweet Arcadian dale, Fair Delphine pours the plaintive strain ; She charms the list'ning nightingale, And seems th' encliantress of the plain. 248 LINES TO MADEMOISELLE D. S . Blest be those lips, to music dear ! Sweet songstress ! never may they move But with such soundsto soothe the ear. And melt the yielding heart to love ! May sorrow never bid them pour From the torn heart one suff' ring sigh. But be thy life a fragrant flow'r. Blooming beneath a cloudless sky. 249 CHAPTER XVII. Curious method of raising Hay. — Opera. — Consular Box. — Madame Bonaparte's Box. — Feydeau Theatre. — Belle Vue. — Versailles. — Palace of the Petit Trianon. — The Grounds. 1 HE people of Paris, who keep horses in stables at the back of their houses, have a singular mode of keeping their hay In the lofts of their dwelling houses. At the top of a spacious and elegant hotel, is to be seen a projecting crane in the act of raising loads of winter provision for the stable. When I first saw this strange process, my surprise would scarcely have been increased, had I beheld the horse ascending after the hay. I must not forget to offer sorae little descrip tion of the opera, to which,' during my stay, through the politeness of Madame H , I had free access in a private box. This spacious and splendid theatre is lighted from above by an immense circular lustre of pa tent lamps. The form of this brilliant light Is in the antique taste, and it is said to have cost two 250 OPERA. thousand pounds sterling. The effect which it produdes in the body of the theatre, and upon the scenery, is admirable. It prevents the sight from being divided, and distracted by a pro fuse distribution of light. This estabHshment IS upon so vast a scale, that government, wbich is the proprietor, is always a loser upon ba lancing the receipts and disbursements of each night. The stage and its machinery have for many years occupied a great number of the subordinate classes of people, who, if not em ployed in this manner, would in all probability be come burdensome and unpleasant to government. To this circumstance is attributable the superiori ty of the machinery, and scenery, over every other theatre which I ever saw. In the English theatres, my eye has often been offended at the representa tions of the internal parts of houses, in which not a chair, or table is introduced, for the purpose of carrying on the Ingenious deception. Upon the stage of the French opera, every scene has its ap propriate furniture, and distinctive appendages, which are always produced as soon as the scene drops, by numerous attendants. Frora this atten- CONSULAR BOX, 251 tion to the minute circumstances of the drama, the illusion becomes enchanting. The orchestra is very fine, and is composed of ninety erainent musicians. The corps de ballet consists of be tween eighty and ninety fine dancers, of whom Monsieur Deshayes is the principal. His move-' ments are more graceful, his agility more surpris ing, and his step more Hght, firra, and elastic, than those of any dancer whora I have ever seen. He is very justly considered to be the first in Europe, The first consul has a private box here, on one side of which, a lofty, hollow, decorative column rises, the flutes of which are open, and through which he views, unseen, the audience and performers. The beholder might be almost inclined to think that this surprising man had borrowed from our immortal bard, his notions of exciting the impression of dignity, by a rare and well-timed display of his person. " Thus did I keep my person fresh and new ; " My presence, like a robe pontifical, " Ne'er seen but wonder'd at : and so my state ¦" Seldom, but sumptuous, showed like a feast, " And won by rareness such solemnity." 252 MADAME BONAPARTE'S BOX. — FEYDEAU THEATRE. Madame Bonaparte's box is on the left side of the stage, over the door, in which the hapless queen has frequently displayed her beautiful per son to the enraptured audience. The Feydeau theatre is very elegant; and, on account of its excellent arrangements, good performers, and exquisite machinery, is much re sorted to, and Is In general preferred to the four teen other dramatic spectacles which. In this dis sipated city, almost every night present their tribute of pleasure to the gay and delighted Pari- . sians. A Frenchman once observed to me, that a Sunday in London was horrible, on account of there being no playhouses open at night 1 The decorum and good manners which are even still observed in all the French places of public amuse ment, are very impressive, and agreeable. Horse and foot soldiers are stationed at the avenues, to keep them clear, to prevent depredation, and to quell the first indications of popular commotion. I was much gratified by an excursion to Ver sailles, which had been some tirae planned by the charraing faraily of the S s. We set off early in the morning, in one of the government BELLE VUE.^ — VERSAILLES. £53 carriages, and after a delightful ride, through a very rich and luxuriant country, of about twelve miles, the vast and magnificent palace of Ver sailles opened upon our view, at the end of a street nearly two miles long, lined on each side with noble hotels and gardens. It was on a Sunday, the day on which the palace Is opened to the public. On the road, we passed several hun dreds of persons in carriages, cabrioles, or walk ing ; all with merry faces, in showy clothes, and adorned with bouquets, on their route to this spot of favourite delight. About four miles frora Paris we beheld Belle Vue, forraerly the residence of Mesdames ; soon afterwards we passed the noble palace and park of St. Cloud, which was preparing for the recep tion of the first consul. At the entrance of the village of St. Cloud, on the left, after we had passed the bridge, we saw a very pretty house and grounds, belonging to a tanner, who had amassed considerable wealth by a discovery of tanning leather in twenty-four hours, so as to render it fit for the currier. Whether he possesses this power or not, I cannot 554 VERSAILLES. from my own experience say, but I can venture to affirm, that the leather of France is very bad. In the village is a very noble porcelain manufac tory, which, unfortunately, we had not time to inspect. Whilst our horses were refreshing themselves with a little water, we were beset by the agents of the different hotels and restaurateurs of Ver sailles, who presented us with little cards, an nouncing, in a very pompous manner, the supe riority of their employers' accomraodations. The stables of Versailles, to the right and left, are from the designs of Mansart, In the form of a crescent, and have the appearance of princely residences. Here the late king kept in the greatest style six hundred of the finest horses. On the left of the grand gateway is a military lodge for the accommodation of cavalry : it re presents In shape an immense Turkish marquee. After we had passed the palllsades of the first court, we more distinctly saw this amazing pile of Irregular buildings, which consists of the old castle, the new palaces, the houses of the mini sters of state and servants, two opera houses, the VERSAILLES. 25J^ chapelj military schools, museums, and the manu factory of arras, the whole of which are now consolidated, and form one palace. The beautiful pavement of black and white marble in the court yards, is much defaced, and their fountains are totally destroyed. The first place we visited was the manufac tory of small arms ; the resident workmen in which exceed two thousand men. Here we saw all the ingenious process of constructing the musket, pistol, and sabre, of which there are an immense collection ; and also several carbines, and swords of honour, intended as presents from the first consul to officers and soldiers of dis tinguished merit. From the manufactory of small arms we re turned to the grand court, and entered a suite of rooras which contain the relics of the former valuable cabinet of curiosities. Several of those' which we saw were worthy of attention. From these roorrts we passed to the late king's private opera house, which surpasses, in magnificence and costly decoration, every thing of the kind I 256 VERSAILLES, ever beheld. The facing of the whole of the inside is of carved wood, richly gilt. The dome is beautifully painted. Upon the scenery of the stage being removed, and*»temporary colurans, and galleries raised, all of which can be effected in twenty-four hours, that part of the theatre pre sents a counterpart of the other, and the whole forras a most splendid oblong ball-roora, very de servedly considered to be the finest in Europe : it used to be illuminated by ten thousand wax- lights. The concert rooms, and retiring apart ments are also very beautiful. From the opera, we visited the chapel, which is very fine and costly, in which there are many large and valuable paintings. After leaving this deserted place of royal worship, we passed through the Halls of Plenty, Venus, Mars, Mercury, ApoHo, and the Hall of the Billiard Table, finely painted by Houasse, le Brun, Chanipagne, and other erainent artists, to the grand gallery, which is seventy-two yards long, and fourteen broad, and has seven teen lofty windows on one side, which look into the gardens, and seventeen immense pier glasses VERSAILLES, 25? on the opposite side to correspond. In this gallery the kings of France were accustomed to receive ambassadors and ministers of state. The bed-room of the late queen next attract ed our attention, where we beheld the door which, on the night of the 6th of October, 1789, the frantic and sanguinary mob, headed by the infamous Legendre, burst open, for the purpose of dispatching her with daggers, in her bed : this savage irruption occurred on that frightful night which preceded the return of the royal family to Paris, under the protection of the marquis de la Fayette, through an enraged multitude, which extended itself from Versailles to Paris, The miserable queen saved herself by escaping into an adjoining apartment. Her bed was pierced through and through with poniards. The door is nailed up, but the marks of that horrible outrage stiH remain. In this, and in the adjoining chambers, are sorae very beautiful and valuable paintings. I must not omit to mention, although the sentiment which it inspires is not very pleasant, the representatioil of the capture 258 VERSArLLES. of an English frigate, by la Bayonne, a French corvette, after a desperate engagement. In which victory for once decided in favour of the enemy, opposing as, on this occasion, an inferior force. This is a picture of infinite merit, and possesses a novelty of arrangement, and strength of colour ing, which I never saw equalled in any other naval representation. The subject seldom admits of much variety. The French, of course, are very much pleased with it. There are here also some curious old clocks. It was in one of these apartraents, that Prior, the celebrated poet, when secretary to the earl of Portland, who was appointed ambassador to the French court, in the year 1698, made the follow ing memorable answer. One of the French king's household was show ing the bard the royal apartments and eurlosltiea of this palace, and particularly pointed out to his notice the paintings of le Brun, now removed to the museum of the arts, in which the victories of Lewis XlVth are described, and asked him» whether the actions of king Williara were to b^ VERSAILLES. 259 seen in his palace ? " No, sir," replied the loyal wit, " the monuments of my master's glory are to *' be seen every where but in his own house." Through the interest of Monsieur S we were admitted into a private room below stairs, in which several portraits of the late royal family have been preserved from destruction during the late revolution. That which represents the queen and her young faraily, is very fine, and displays all the bewitching beauty and vivacity of that lovely and unfortunate personage. Into this roomt no one was admitted with us. Here is a very curious piece of mechanlsni: it is a painting, containing two hundred Httle figures, in the act o£ enjoying the various pleasures of rural sporty which are separated from the back ground of the picture, and are set in motion by springs ; and admirably imitate all the movements natural to their different occupations, A fisherman throws in bis line, and draws up a little fish, a regulat chase is displayed, and a nuptial procession ap pears, in which little figures, riding in tiny car riages, nod to the spectators.. There are ah9 s 2 260 VERSAILLES.-^ORANGERY. many other curious figures. It is glazed and framed ; and at a distance, when its motion has ceased, it has the appearance of a tolerably good painting. We next quitted the palace, and en tered upon the grand terrace, from which it makes the finest appearance. This enormous pile of building is here united by a centre, and corresponding wings, of great extent and magnificence. Frora this elevated spot, the beholder contem plates the different waterworks, walks, and gar dens, which are very delightful and extensive. The orangeiy is a beautiful speciraen of Tus can architecture, designed by le Maitre, and fi nished by Mansart. It is filled with lofty orange trees in full bearing ; many of which, in their tubs, measure from twenty to thirty feet high. Amongst thera is an orange tree which is up wards of four hundred years old. The cascades, fountains, and jets d'eau, are too numerous to admit of minute description. They are all very fine, and are supplied by prodigious engines at Marli, about three miles distant. ;.N- ^ >: ^ ^X '.^' V THE PALACE OF THE PETIT TRIANON. 261 The Trianon is a little raarble palace, of much beauty, and embellished with the richest decora tion. It stands at the end of the great lake, in front of the palace ; and was, by its late royal owners, considered as a suramer-appendage to the gardens of Versailles. The whole of this vast building, and its grounds, were improved and beautified by Lewis XlVth, for the wefl known purpose of Irapressing his subjects, and particu larly his courtiers, with the highest opinion of his greatness, and the lowest of their comparative littleness. Amongst the lords of his court he easily effected hl^ wishes, by accoraraodating thera in a raanner unsuitable to their dignity. After being astonished at such a display of gorgeous magnificence, I approached, with in creased delight, the enchanting little palace and grounds of the late queen, distant from Versailles about two miles, called the Petit Trianon, to which she very justly gave the appellation of her " Httle Palace of Taste." Here, fatigued with the splendors of royalty, she threw aside all its appearances, and gave herself up to the elegant pleasures of rural life. It is a princely estabHsh- 262 THE PALACE OF THE PETIT TRIANON. ment In miniature. It consists of a small palace, a chapel, an opera house, out-offices and stables, a Httle park, and pleasure grounds ; the latter of which are stiH charming, although the fascinating eye and tasteful hand of their lovely but too volatile mistress, no longer pervade, cherish, and direct their growth and beauty. By that reverse of fortune which the revolution has famlHarised, the Petit Trianon is let out by the government to a restaurateur. All the rooras but one in this house were preoccupied on the day of our visit, in consequence of which we were obliged to dine in the former little bed-room of the queen, where, like the Idalian goddess, she used to sleep in a suspended basket of roses. The apertures occa sioned by the hooks formerly rivetted in the ceil ing and wainscot, to which the elegant furni ture of this little chamber of repose had once adhered, are still visible. After dinner we hastened through our coffee, and proceeded to the gardens. After winding through gravelled walks, embowered by the most exquisite and costly shrubs, we entered the elegant temple of Cupid, from which the little THE PALACE OF THE PETIT TRIANON. 263 favourite of mankind had been, if he could have felt, unwIHIngly and rudely expelled, as appeared by the fragments of his pedestal. From this temple we passed through the most romantic avenues, to a range of rural buildings, called the queen's farm, the dairy, the mill, and the woodmen's cottages; which, during the queen's residence at the Petit Trianon, were occupied by the most elegant and accomplished young noblemen of the court In front of them, a lake, terminated on one side by a rustic tower, spreads itself. These buildings are much ne glected, and are falHng into rapid ruin. In other times,* when neatness and order reigned throughout this elysian scenery, and gracefully spread its luxuriant beauties at the feet of its former captivating owner, upon the mirror of that lake, now filled with reeds and sedges, in elegant little pleasure boats, the iflustrii* ous party was accustomed to enjoy the freshness of the evening, to fill the surrounding groves with the melody of the song, which was faintly an swered by the tender flute, whose musician was concealed in that rustic tower, whose graceful 264 THE GROUNDS. base the honeysuckle and eglantine no longer en circle, and whose winding access, once decorated with flowers of the richest beauty and perfume, is now overgrown with moss, decayed, and faHIng piecemeal to the ground ! Near the farm, in corresponding pleasure- grounds, the miller's house particularly irapressed us with delight. All its characteristics were elegantly observed, and a rivulet still runs on one/ side of it, which formerly used to turn a little wheel to complete the IHusion. The apartraents, which must have been once enchanting, now pre sent nothing but gaping beams, broken ceilings, and shattered casements. The wainscots of its little cabinets exhibit only a tablet, upon which are rudely penciled, the initials, love verses, and memoranduras of its motley visitors. The shade of the ivy, which, upon all occa sions, seems destined to perform the last offices to the departing monuments of human ingenuity, has here exercised its gloomy function. Whilst we were roving about, we were obliged to take refuge from a thunder storm, in what appeared to us a n}ere barn ; upon our entering it, we found THE GROUNDS. 265 it to be an elegant Httle ball-room, much dis figured, and greened over by damp and neglect. In other parts of this petit Paradis are caves of artificial rock, which have been formed at an im mense expense, in which were formerly beds of moss, and through which clear streams of water glided, Belvidere temples, and scattered cottages, each differing from its neighbour in character, but all according in taste and beauty. The opera house, which stands alone, is a miniature of the splendid one in the palace of Versailles. The sylvan ball-room is an oblong square, lined with beautiful treillages, surmounted with vases of flowers: the top is open. When the queen gave her balls here, the ground was cover ed by a temporary flooring, and the whole was brilliantly Hghted. As we passed by the palace, we saw. In the queen's little library, several persons waltzing. Could the enchanting beauty of Austria, and the once-incensed idol of the gay and the gallant, arise from her untimely tomb, and behold her most sacred recesses of delight thus rudely ex posed, and converted into scenes of low and 266 THE GROUNDS.— GENERAL MARESCOT. holiday festivity ; the temples which she designed, defaced, their statues overthrown, her walks over grown and entangled, the clear rnlrror of the winding lake, upon the placid surface of which once shone the reflected form of the Belvidere, and the retreats of elegant taste covered with the reedy greenness of the standing pool, and all the faiiy fabric of her graceful fancy, thus dissolving in decay ; the devoted, hapless Marie would add another sigh to the many which her aching heart has already heaved ! It would be very desirable, for the better pre servation of this magnificent pile, if Bonaparte would make it his country palace instead of St. Cloud. Upon our return, as we approached Paris, the illuminated bridges of the Seine looked very beautiful, and we were much pleased with some fireworks, which had a very beautiful effect upon the water. In the evening, we had sorae music at Mon sieur S^ 's, where we were joined by general Marescot, a brave and distinguished officer, much esteemed by Bonaparte. He informed us, that he was on the point of setting out to view and, GENERAL MARESCOT. 26/ report the condition of all the maritime fortifica tions in the republic. " You must go with me as " my aide-de-camp," said the general to Made moiselle D— • — . " I ara not fierce enough for *' a soldier," replied the fair one, with a bewitch ing smile. " Well then," observed the sun- browned general, " should the war ever be re- " newed, you shall attend me to charm away its " calamities." Madame S , like a true French mother, was delighted with the little compliraent, and, presenting her snuff-box to the gallant Marescot, §he said, " thank you, my dear general, the brave *' always think generously of the fair." 26s CHAPTER XVIII, Bonaparte's Talents in Finance. — Garrick and the Madman. — Palace of the Conservative Senate. — Process of trans ferring Oil Paintings from Wood to Canvas. — The Dinner Knife. — Commodites. — Hall of the National Convention, — ^The Minister Talleyrand's Levee. The first consul is said to add to his other ex traordinary powers, an acute and comprehensive knowledge of finance. Monsieur S inform ed me, that whenever he waited upon him in his official capacity with the national accounts, he displayed an acquaintance with the most corar plicated statements, which seeraed intuitive. He exhibits the sarae talents in philosophy, and In matters which are foreign to those vast objects of public employ which have raised hira to his present height of glory, and which in ge neral preclude the subordinate enjoyraent of elegant study. Those acquirements which Providence, in Its wisdom, has thinly scattered amongst mankind. PtRFORMERS. 269 and which seldora ripen to full raaturity, although cherished by the raost propitious advantages, and by the unreposing labours of a long and blissful existence, spread their rich abundance. In the May morning of life, before this extraordinary being, who, in the commencement of that very revolution, upon the ruins of which he has stepped to supreme authority, was a beardless stripling. From the great performers upon the public stage of life, our conversation, one evening, at Madame S 's, by a natural transition, era- braced a review of the wonderful talents which have at various tiraes adorned the lesser draraa of the theatre. Madarae S made some judici ous remarks upon the French players of distinc tion, to all of whom she imputed a manner and enunciation which have been irabibed in a school in which Nature has not been permitted to pre side. Their tragedy, she said, was inflated with too much pomp, and their elegant comedy suffer ed by too volatile an airiness. She bestowed upon our immortal Garrick the most decided pre ference and superiority to any actor whom she i16 GARRICK AND THE MADMAN. had ever seen. The opportunity which she had of judging of his powers, was short and singular, but fuHy enabled her to form a decisive opinion. When Garrick visited Paris for the last time, she was just married. This celebrated actor had letters of introduction to Monsieur S . At a large party, which Monsieur S— ¦ — formed for the purpose of doing honour to his distinguished visitor, he exhibited several specimens of his un rivaled talents. Amongst others, he represented in dumb show, by the wonderful powers of his expressive countenance, the feelings of a father, who in looking over a lofty balcony with his only child in his arms, by accident dropped it. The disaster drove the unhappy parent mad, Garrick had visited him in his ceH ; where the miserable maniac was accustomed, several tiraes in the course of the day, to exhibit all those looks and attitudes which he had displayed at the balcony *. On a sudden he would bend himself forward, as * The cause which induced Garrick to visit this unhappy person was, it is said, to render the representation of his King Lear raore perfect. ENGLISH DRAMA. 271 if looking from a window into the street, with his arras folded as if they embraced a child, then he would start back, and appear as if he had lost something, search the roora round and round, run again forward, as to the railing of a window, look down, and beat his forehead, as If he had beheld his infant bleeding, and breathless upon the pave ment. Garrick's imitation was exquisite. The feelings of his beholders were wrought up to horror, and the tears and consternation of a gay fashionable French party, were applauses more flattering to the British Roscius, than the thunder of that acclaraatlon which, in the crowded theatre, followed the flash of his fiery eye, or the close of his appalling speech. The English draraa, however, has not escaped the animadversions of a French critic, whose taste and liberality are not very congenial with those of my charming and generous friend. " Their " tragedies," he says (speaking of the English), ^' it is true, though interesting, and replete with *' beauties, are nevertheless dramatic monsters,- " half butchery, and half farce. Grotesque cha-' 272 BASTILLE. " racters, and extravagant pleasantry, constitute " the chief part of their comedies. In one of " them (not named) the devil enters sneezing, " and somebody says to the devil, God bless you. " They are not, however, all of this stamp. They *' have even some in very good taste." Yes, Monsieur Dourx, I agree with you, I think we have had some in very good taste ; although our stage has now sunk into the most abject state of bumlHty. I know not, by the bye, in*what dramatic work the facetious French man has discovered the introduction of his satariic majesty under the influence of a cold, and re ceiving, as he enters, the usual deprecation on such occasions. In the course of one of my morning rambles in Paris, I visited the ruins of the celebrated Bas tille, of which prison only the arsenal, some frag ments of its massy walls, and two or three dun geons, reraain. The volcanic vengeance of the people has swept away this mighty fabric, which the infuriate mind of republican liberty denounced as the frightful den of despotism, upon the PASTILLE. .273 approach to which no marks of returning foot steps were imprinted, whilst; in her mad career, jSie converted every private dwelling in the me tropolis into a revolutionary prison : so much for popular consistency ! In the mutations of time, to what different purposes are the sarae places applied ! Where the consuming martyr expired*, the unwieldy prize-hog is exposed to sale ; and the modern Parisian derives the sources of warmth and com fort from a place, the very name of which once chilled the circulation of his blood. The site of the Bastille is now a magazine of wood, which supplies the city with fuel. Every lover of pure liberty must leap with delight upon the disincumbered earth, where once stood that gloomy abode of " broken hearts," and refiect upon the sufferings of the wretched Latude, and the various victims of capricious pique, or prostitute resentment. It was here that, in the beautiful lines of Cowper, the hope less prisoner was doomed * Smithfield, 274 BASTILLfi.— OBSERVATORY. " To fly for refuge from distracting thought " To such amusements as ingenious woe " Contrives) hard shifting, and without her tools— " To read, engraven on the mouldy walls, " In stagg'ring types, his predecessor's tale, " A sad memorial, and subjoin his own — " To turn purveyor to an overgorg'd " And bloated spider, till the pamper'd pest " Is made familiar, watches his approach, " Comes at his call, and serves him for a friend — " The cells of the Bastille were constantly filled during the syren reign of la Pompadour over the gloomy affections of Lewis XVth, The overthrow of this dungeon has not ren dered state-prisons out of fashion in the republic, although it has mitigated the severity of their in ternal* government. The towers of the Temple look down upon the prostrate ruins of the Bastille. From this memorable spot of ground I went to the Observatory, In the rooras, which open upon an artificial terrace, were some astronomical apparatus of great magnitude. A very ingenious frame was then constructing, for elevating or de- PALACE OP THE CONSERVATIVE SENATE. 275 pressing the astronomer and the telescope at the same time, by an easy and simple construction of machinery. The Observatory is a noble build ing, and contains libraries, students* rooms, and apartments for the various artificers and machin ists who are occupied in fabricating the appara tus and instruments necessary to the science of astronomy. From the exterior of the dorae, there is a fine view of the city, suburbs, and country. Frora the Observatory, I visited the Conserva tive Senate, formerly the Palace of the Luxem bourg, The back of this beautiful building is in the Rue de Vaugirand, in the Fauxbourg of St. Germains. The gardens of this noble pile are receiving great improvement and alteration, from designs which have been approved of by the first consul, who, in his vvise policy, intends that they shaH, in time, rival those of the ThuiHerles, for the purpose of affording an elegant and fashion able promenade to the people who reside in that quarter of the capital, which is considerably di stant from the beautiful walks which adorn the consular palace. Flere I saw the Hall of Deli- T 2 876 TRANSyEKRiNG PAINTINGS FROM WOOD. beration, in which the Conservative Senate assem- hle. It is nothing more than a large, handsome drawing-room, in which are placed, upori rising platforms, sixty armed chairs, for so many mem bers, the chair of the president, and the tribune. This inagnificent palace is repairing, and fitting up for the residence and accomraodation of its members. I was introduced to the artist who has the care of the gallery, and who, with his assistants, was very busily occupied in a process for removing the oil-colours of a painting from wood, and transferring them to canvas. He re ceived me with great politeness, and explained to me the mode of doing it, in which there appeared to be more toil, nicety, and steadiness required, than ingenuity. The painting is laid upon a cloth stretched upon a marble slab, and the wood behind is shaved off until nothing but the picture, like a flat cake, or rather a sheet of goldbeater's skin, reraains; a piece of canvas coated with a ceraent is then placed Upon it, to which It adheres, and presents all the appearance of having been origi nally painted upon it. The pictures from the PALACE OF THE CONSERVATIVE SENATE. 277 subject of St, Bruno were then updergoing this operation. The apartments in which these people were at work, presented very convincing indications pf the mutability of human anibition. This palace was aflotted to the celebrated Council of Five Hundred. During their ephe meral reign, these very rooms were designed for their halls of audience and levees, the rich mouldings and cornices of which were half gilt, and covered with silver paper to preserve them : the poor council were never indulged in a house- warming. The pictures, which were collected by Henry IV,, and deposited in the gallery there which bears his narae, are said to be valuable. I dicl not see thera, on account of their having been reraoved into store-rooms while the palace was repairing. It was late when I left the Luxembourg, and, somewhat exhausted for want of refreshment, I detej-mined upon dining at the first restaurateur's which I could meet with. Instead of gqing to the Gardens pf the Thuilleries. To find such an ac- 278 THE DINNER KNIFE. commodation in Paris is no difficult thing. A stranger would naturally suppose, from the fre quency with which the words caffe, limonade, and restaurateur, present theraselves to the eye, that three parts of the inhabitants had turned their talents to the valuable study of relieving the cravings of an empty stomach. I had not moved three yards down the Rue de Tournon, before, on my left, I saw the welcome board which, in large golden characters, an nounced the very best entertainment within. At this moment, the celebrated picture of the banquet In the Louvre could scarcely have afford ed me more delight, I had an excellent dinner, wine, and fruit, for four livres. In the course of my repast, I begged that a knife might be per mitted to aid the services of a three-pronged* silver fork, which graced my plate on the left. After rather a laborious search, my wishes were gratified by an instrument which certainly was entitled to the name of one, but assuredly not the handsomest of its species ; and whether there had been any dispute between the handle and ^e blade? I know not, but there were very evident THE DINNER KNIFE. 279 appearances of an approaching separation. Not wishing to augment the rupture between two personages so necessary to each other's service, and to those who were to be benefited by it, I begged of my fair hostess, who, with two pretty girls (her daughters), were picking the stalks frora sorae strawberries, intended for my desert, at the other end of the room, that she would favour me with another knife. The maitresse d'hotel, who had a pair of fine dark expressive eyes, very archly said, " Why would you wish to " change it, sir ? it is an English one," It cer tainly looked like one ; the compliment induced me to eat my dinner with it very comfortably, without saying another word, I have since thought, that the maitresse d'hotel had not another knife in her house, but what was in use. In France, I have before had occasion to re mark, that fanciful notions of excessive delicacy, are not permitted to interfere with comfort and convenience. Amongst these people, every thing turns upon the principle of accommodation. To this motive I attribute the frequent exhibition. 230 HALL OP THE NATIONAL CONVENTION. over the doors of respectable looking houses, in the fashionable walks, and in different parts of Paris, of the following characters, " Commodites " pour Horaraes et Femraes." I mention this circumstance for the purpose of communicating some idea of the people, convinced, as 1 well am, that it is only by detail, that we can become ac quainted with the peculiar characteristics of any community. I very often passed by the ci-devant Hall of the National Convention ; in which the hapless king and queen were doomed to the scaffold, where murder was legitimated, religion denounc ed, and the grave declared to be the bed of eternal repose. In vindiqation of the ways of eternal justice, even upon earth, this polluted pile is participating the fate of its devoted members. Those waHs which once resounded with the stormy declamation of republican visionaries, the most worthless, imposing, and desperate of man kind, are prevented, for a short time, by a few crazy props, from covering the earth below with their dust and ruins, The famed temple of the HALL OF THE NATIONAL CONVENTION. 281 Goddess of Liberty is not tenantable enough to cover the Babel Deity from the peltings of the midnight storm. Where is now the enthusiastic GIronde, where the volcanic mountain, the fiery and eloquent Mirabeau, the wily Brissot, the atheistic l^equi- nois, the remorseless Marat, the bloody St. Just, and the chief of the depluraed and fallen legions of equality .? AH is desolate and silent. ¦ The gaping planks of the guillotine are imbue d with their last traces. The haunt of the banditti is uncovered. The revolution has preyed ujjon her own children, and metaphysical murdere rs have perished by the daggers of speculative repub licans. About two years since this place w,as con verted into a menagerie. The cave and tbe wil derness, the desert and the jungle, presented to the eye of the beholder, representative successors of those savages who, with more powers and more ferocity, were once enclosed within the same den. From the remerabrance of such rais- creants I turn, with increased satisfaction, to the traces of approaching civilization, which mark 282 THE MINISTER TALLEYRAND's LEVEE. the career of the present government, in which the want of suitable splendour no longer repels the approach and friendship of those nations which once shuddered at the idea of coming into contact with the infected rags of visionary fraternity. Some indications of this change I saw portrayed at the levee of Monsieur TaHeyrand, the minister of foreign relations, when I had the honour of being presented to that able and cele brated politician by Mr. B. The hotel of Talley rand is very superb. We entered the court-yard through two lines of about twenty carriages in waiting. Under the portico were several Turks seated, who formed a part of the suite of the Turkish ambassador, who had just arrived, and was then closeted with Monsieur T , We passed through several noble apartments, preceded by servants, to a magnificent levee- room, in which we met most of the foreign ambassadors who were then at the consular court. After waiting some time, the folding doors of the cabinet opened, the Turkish embassy came out, making their grand salams, followed by THE MINISTER TALLEYRAND's LEVEB. 283 Talleyrand, in his rich costume of embroidered scarlet, his hair full dressed, and a shining sabre by his side. In his person he is small and thin, his face is *' pale and penetrating." He always looks ob liquely; his small quick eyes and features very Jegibly express mildness, wit, and subtilty. His right leg appears contracted. His address is in sinuating. As the spirit of aggrandizement, which is said to have actuated the public and private conduct of Monsieur T — has been so much talked of, it may, perhaps, excite some surprise, when it is mentioned that several per sons who know him well, some of whom esteem him, and with some of whom he is not a favourite, declare, notwithstanding the anecdotes related of X. y., and Monsieur Beaucoup d'Argent, in the American prints, that they consider hira to be a man whose raind is raised above the influence of corruption. Monsieur T may be classed amongst the rarest curiosities in the revolutionary cabinet. AHied by an illustrious ancestry to the Bourbons, and a royalist from his birth, he was. 284 THE MINISTER TALLEYRANd's LEVEE. with unusual celerity, invested with the episco pal robe and crosier*. During the temporary triumph of the abstract rights of man, over the practicable rights of reason, he moved with the boisterous cavalcade, with raore caution than en thusiasm. Upon the celebrated national recog nition of the sovereignty of the rights of man in the Champs de Mars, the politic minister, adorned in snowy robes, and tricolor ribands, presided at the altar of the republic as its high priest, and be stowed his patriarchal benedictions upon the standard of France, and the banners of her de partments. Some time afterwards, in the shape of a secret unaccredited negotiator, he was discovered in the metropolis of England, and immediately transr ferred, upon the spread wings of the alien blH, to his own shores. Since that period, after having dissociated and neutralised the most formidable foes of his country, by the subtle stratagems of his consummate diplomacy, we beheld him as * Monsieur Talleyrand is cx-bishop of Autun, and now prince Benevento. THE MINISTER TALLfiYUANo's LEVEE. 285 the successor of la Croix, armed with the powers, and clothed In the gaudy costume, of the minister of foreign relations. In the polished Babel of the anti-chamber of this extraordinary man, I have beheld the starred and glittering representatives of the most distinguished princes of the earth, waiting for hours with exemplary resignation, contemplating themselves, in all their positions, in his reduplicating mirrors, or examining the splendor and exquisite ingenuity of his time pieces, until the silver sound of his little bell announced, that the invoked and lagging moment of ministerial leisure was arrived. It is certain that few people possess the valu able qualities of iraraoveable calmness and self- possession, more than Monsieur T , Ba lanced by these amiable and valuable qualities, he has been enabled to ride the political whirl wind, and, in the diplomatic cabinet, to coHect sorae advantage frora the prejudices or passions of all who approached him. The caution and cunning of T have succeeded, where the sword and impetuous spirit of Bonaparte would S86 THE MINISTER TALLEYRAND's LEVBE. have been unavailing. The splendor of his. apartments, and of many of the personages pre sent, displayed a very court-like appearance, and inclined a stranger, like myself, to think that no thing of the old government was missinig, but the expatriated family of France. 287 CHAPTER XIX, The College of the Deaf and Dumb.— Abbe Sicard. — Baga telle. — Police. — Grand National Library. — Bonaparte's Review. — Tambour Major of the Consular Regiment.— Restoration of Artillery Colours. .1 HAD long anticipated the deHght which I ex pected to derive from the interesting public lec ture of the abbe Sicard, and the examination of his pupils. This araiable and enlightened man presides over an institution which endears his narae to huraanity, and confers unfading honour upon the nation which cherishes it by its protec tion and raunlficence. My reader wIH imraedi ately conclude that I allude to the College of the Deaf and Durab. By the genius and persever ance of the late abb6 Charles Michael de I'Ep^e, and his present amiable successor, a race of fellow-beings, denied, by a privation of hearing of the powers of utterance, insulated in the midst of multitudes bearing their own image, and cut off from the participation, within sight. 288 THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB . of all the endearing intercourses of social life, are restored, as it were, to the blessings of complete existence. The glorious labours of these philan thropists, in no very distant ages, would have conferred upon them the reputation and honours of being invested with superhuraan influence. By making those faculties which are bestowed, auxiliary to those which are denied, the deaf are taught to hear, and the dumb to speak. A silent rjepresentative language, in which the eye oflSci- ates for the ear, and coraraunicates the charms of :science, and the deHghts of common intercourse, to the mind, with the velocity, facility, and cer tainty of sound, has been presented to these im perfect children of nature. The plan of the abbe, I believe, is before the. world. It cannot be expected, in a fugitive sketch like the present, to attempt an elaborate detail of it. Some little idea of its rudiraents may, perhaps, be imparted, by a plain description of what passed on the ex amination day, when I had the happiness of being present. On the morning of the exhibition, the streets leading to the CoHege were Hned with carriages. tME COLtEGE Of THE DEAF AND DUMB. 289 for humanity has here made a convert of fashion, and directed her wavering mind to objects from which she cannot retire, without ample and con-^ soling gratification. Upon the lawn, in front of the College, were groups of the pupils, enjoying those sports and exercises which are followed by other children, to whom Providence has been more bountiful. Some of their recreations re quired calculation, and I observed that their In tercourse with each other appeared to be easy, svvift, and InteHIgible. They made some con vulsive movements with their mouths, in the course of their communication, which, at first, had rather an unpleasant effect. In the cloister I addressed myself to a genteel looking youth, who did not appear to belong to the College;, and requested him to show me the way to the theatre in which the lecture v/as to be delivered. I found he took no notice of me. One of the assistants ofthe abbe, who was standing near me, informed me he was deaf, and dumb, and made two or three signs, too swift for me to discrimi nate ; the silent youth bowed, took me by the hand, led rae Into the theatre, and, with the V 200 THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB, greatest politeness, procured me an excellent seat. The room was very crowded, and in the course of a quarter of an hour after I had entered every avenue leading to it was corapletely filled with genteel company. The benches of the auditors of the lecture displayed great beauty and fashion ; a stage, or tribune, appeared in front J behind was a large inclined slate, in a frame, about eight feet high by six long. On each side of the stage the scholars were placed, and behind the spectators was a fine bust of the founder of the institution, the admirable de I'Epee. The abbe Sicard mounted the tribune, and delivered his lecture with very pleasing address, ^ in the course of which he frequently excited great applause. The subject of it was an analysis of the language of the deaf and dumb, interspersed with several curious experiments upon, and anecdotes of, his pupils. The examina tion of the scholars next followed. The cora raunication which has been opened to them in this singular manner, is by the philosophy cf grammar. THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. SQI The denotation of the tenses was effected by appropriate signs. The hand thrown over the shoulder, expressed the past, — when extended, like the attitude of inviting, it denoted the future, — and the finger inverted upon the breast, indi cated the present tense. A single sign commu nicated a word, and frequently a sentence. A singular instance of the first occurred. A gen tleman amongst the spectators, who appeared to be acquainted with the art of the abbe, was re quested to raake a sign to the pupil then under examination : the moraent it was made, the scholar chalked upon the slate. In a fine swift flowing hand, " un homme." The pupil erred ; the gentleman renewed the sign ; when he Im mediately wrote, " une personne," to the astonish ment of every person present. This circumstance is a strong instance of the powers of discrimina tion, of which this curious communication is susceptible *. * A curious anecdote is related of tire perfection to -nhich the late abbe de I'Epee had brought liis system of education. A distinguished Member of the Royal Academy having assert ed, that persons thus instructed could be considered as little V 2 292 THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. Sorae of the spectators requested the abbe to describe, by signs, several sentences which they repeated from meraory, or read from authors, which were imraediately understood by the pupils, and penciled upon the slate. The lecture and examination lasted .about three hours. Upon the close of this interesting exhibition, a silent sympathy reigned throughout the spectators. Every face beamed with satisfac tion. Tears were seen trembling In the eyes of many present. After a moraentary pause, the hall rang with acclamations. Elegant women pressed forward in the crowd, to present some little token of their delighted feelings to the chll- inore than automata, the abbe invited him to be present at his lessons, and desired him to fix upon some abstract terra, which he would, by very rapid signs, communicate to his pupils : he chose the word unintelligibilitij ; which, to his astonishment, was almost instantly written by one of them. The abbe informed him, that to communicate this word, he had used five signs : the first indicated an internal action ; the second represented the act of a mind that reads internally, or comprehends what is proposed toil ; a third signified that such a disposition is possible ; these taken together forra tho word intelligible ; a fourth sign transforms the adjective into the substantive ; and a fifth, e.\pres-.ing negation, completes the word rt;()uii\rd. THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 293 dren protected by this Institution. It was a spectacle. In which genius was observed assisting humanity, and nature. In a suffusion of gratitude, weeping over the hallowed and propitious en deavours of the good, the generous, and the en lightened. Well might the elegant and eloquent Kotzebue select from such a spot, a subject for his pathetic pen, and give to the British Rosclus of the present day *, the power of enriching its drama, by a fresh display of his unrivalled abili ties. The exhibition of the Deaf and Dumb will never be eradicated from my mind. The tears which were shed on that day, seemed almost sufficient to wipe away the recollection of those times In which misery experienced no mitiga tion; when every one, trembling for himself, had no unabsorbed sensation of consoling pity to bestow upon the unfortunate. Those times are gone — May their absence be eternal ! This In stitution Is made serviceable to the state. A pupil of the College Is one of the chief clerks of the * IMr. Kemble brought out the pathetic play of Deaf and Durab, in which he sustains the character of the abbe de I'Epee with admirable effect. 294 THE COLLEGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. national lottery-office, in which he distinguishes himself by his talents, his calculation, and up right deportment. Whilst the subject is before me, I beg leive to mention a curious circumstance which was re lated by a very ingenious and honourable man, in a party where I happened to be present, to prove the truth and agreement of nature, in her association of ideas. A blind man was asked by him, to what sound he resembled the sensation produced by touching a piece of red cloth, he im mediately replied, to the sound of a trurapet. A pupil of the College ofthe Deaf and Dumb, who could faintly hear a loud noise. If applied close to his ear, was asked, to what colour he could cora- pare the sound of a trurapet, he said, it always excited In his mind the remembrance of scarlet cloth*. Two pupils, male and female, of the same College, who had been placed near cannon, when discharged, without being susceptible of the sound, were one day taken by their humane tutor into a room where the harmonica was play- * The first experiment is well known. It is also noticed in Locke upon the Human Understanding. THE COLLEIBE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 295 ing ; a musical instrument which Is said to have a powerful Influence over the nerves. He asked them, by signs. If they felt any sensation. They repHed in the'Tiegatlve. He then placed the hand of the girl upon the Instrument, whilst It was playing, and repeated the question ; she answered, that she felt a new pleasure enter the ends of her fingers, pass up her arms, and penetrate her heart. The same experiment was tried upon her companion, who seemed to be sensible of similar sensations of delight, but less acutely felt. The emotions of sympathy are, perhaps, raore forcibly excited by rausic than by any other cause. An Illustrious example of its effect is Introduced into Boerhaave's academical lectures on the dis eases of the nerves, published by Van Eems. Theodoslus the Great, by levying an excessive tribute. Inflamed the minds of the people of Antioch against him, who prostrated his statues, and slew his ambassadors. Upon coolly reflecting on what they had done, and remembering the stern and ruthless nature of their sovereign, they sent deputies to implore his clemency and forgiveness. The tyrant 2q6 THE COLLEGE OP THE DEAF AND DITMB. received them, without making any reply. His chief minister lamenting the condition of these unhappy people, resolved upon an expedient to move the soul of bis offended prince to mercy. He accordingly Instructed the youths whose ofiice It was to entertain the emperor with music during dinner, to perform an affecting and pathetic piece of music, composed for the purpose. The plain tive sounds soon began to operate. The emperor, unconscious of the cause, bedewed his cup with tears, and when the singers artfully proceeded to describe the sufferings of the people of Antioch, their imperial master could no longer contain him self, but, moved by their pathos, although un accustomed to forgive, revoked his vengeance, and restored the terrified offenders to his royal favour. Madame E , who Is considered the first dilettante mistress of music In Paris, related to me the following experiment, which she once tried upon a young woman who was totally deaf and dumb. She fastened a silk thread about her mouth, and rested the other end upon her piano forte, upon which she played a pathetic air: her ' M3 ii'k aI|iiPl^ 'bhi BAGATELLE. 297 visitor soon appeared much affected, and at length burst into tears : when she recovered, she wrote down upon a piece of paper, that she had experienced a delight which she could not ex- pres,s, and that it had forced her to weep. I must reluctantly retire from this pleasing subject, by wishing that the abbe may long enjoy a series of blissful years ; and that his noble en deavours, " manifesting the enlightened times in " which we live," may meet with that philan thropic success, which, to his generous mind, will be its most desired reward here; assured, as he is, of being crowned with those unfading remunera tions which are promised to the good hereafter. 1 one day dined at Bagatelle, which is about four miles frora Paris, in the Bois du Bologne, the Parisian Hyde Park, In which the fashionable equestrian, upon his Norman hunter, " with heel insidiously aside, " Provokes the canter which he seems to chide." The duellist also, in the covert windings of this vast wood, seeks reparation for the trifling wrong, and falls, or slaughters his antagonist. 298 BAGATELLE. Bagatelle was formerly the elegant little palace of the count d'Artois. The gardens and grounds belonging to it are beautifully disposed. What a contrast to the gloomy shades of Holyrood House, in which the royal fugitive, and his wretched followers, have found an asylum ! The building and gardens are in the taste of, but inferior to, those of the Petit Trianon. As usual, it is the residence of cooks and scullions, tenants ofthe government, who treat their visitors with good dinners and excellent wine, and take good care to make them pay handsomely for their faultless fare. Returning to my hotel rather late at night, I passed through the Champs EHsees, which, at this hour, seemed to be in all its glory. Every " alley " green" was filled with whispering lovers. On all sides the sounds of festivity, of music, and dancing, regaled the ear. The weather was very sultry, and being a Httle fatigued with rather a long walk, I entered through a trellis palisade into a capacious pavilion, and refreshed myself with lemonade. Here I found a large bourgeois party enjoying POLICE. 299 themselves, after the labours of the day, with the waltz, and their favourite beverage, lemonade. A stranger is always surprised at beholding the grace and activity which even the lowest orders of people in France display in dancing. Whiskered corporals, in thick dirty boots, and young trades men, in long great coats, led off their respective femraes de charabre and grisettes with an elegance not surpassed in the jewelled birth night ball-roora. Nothing could exceed the sprightly carelessness and gay indifference which reigned throughout; and the music in this place, as in every other of a similar description, was excellent. The French police, notwithstanding the Invi dious rumours which have been circulated to Its prejudice. Is the constant subject of admiration with every candid foreigner, who is enabled, un der the shelter of its protection, to perambulate in safety every part of Paris, and its suburbs, although badly Hghted, at that hour of the night which, in England, frequently exposes the unwary wanderer to the pistol of the prowling ruffian. The EngHsh police seems to direct its powers. 300 GRAND NATIONAL LIBRARY. and consideration, more to the apprehension of the robber, than to the prevention of the robbery. In no country is the art of thief-catching carried higher than in England, where thief-takers and thieves appear to form one harmonious family. In France the police is in the highest state of re spectability, and unites force to vigilance. The depredator who is fortunate enough to escape the former. Is seldom able to elude the latter. The grand National Library of Paris, is highly deserving of a visit, and is considered to be the first of its kind In Europe. ,In one of the rooras is a museum of antiques, and in one of the wings are the two celebrated great globes, which rest upon the ground, and rise through the flooring of the first story, where there Is a railing round them. These globes are about eighteen feet high. This noble collection Is upon the point of being re moved to the old palace. From the Grand National LIbrarv, I went with a party to the military review of all the re giments in Paris, and its suburbs, in the Place de Carouse], within the gates and railing which Bo naparte bas raised for this purpose. We were Bonaparte's review. 30l introduced into the apartraents of general Duroc, the governor of the Thuilleries, upon the ground floor, which afforded us an uninterrupted view of the whple of this superb military spectacle. A little before twelve o'clock, all the regiments of horse and foot, amounting to about 7000 men, had formed the Hne, when the consular regiment entered, preceded by their fine band, and the tambour major, who was dressed In great magni ficence. This man Is remarked in Paris for his symmetry and manly beauty. The cream-coloured charger of Bonaparte, upon which, " labouring " for destiny, he has often made dreadful way in " the field of battle," next passed usi, led by grooms In splendid liveries of green and gold, to the grand entrance. As the clock struck twelve, the first consul, surrounded by a chosen body of the consular guard, appeared and mounted. He immediately rode off in full speed, to the gate nearest to the gallery of the Louvre, followed by his favourite generals, superbly attired, mounted upon chargers very richly caparisoned. My eye, aided by a good opera-glass, was fixed upon the first consul. I beheld before me a man whose 302 Bonaparte's review. renown is sounded through the remotest regions of the earth, and whose exploits have been united by the worshippers of favoured heroism to those of the conqueror of Darius. His features are small and meagre : his countenance cold, con siderate, and melancholy, his nose aquiline, his eyes dark, fiery, and full of genius: his hair, which he wears cropped and without powder, black : his figure sraall, but very muscular. He wore a blue coat, with broad white facings and golden epaulets (the uniform of his regiment), a small cocked hat, in which was a little national cockade. In his hand he -carried a small riding whip. His boots were made in the fashion of English riding boots, which I have before con demned for want of military appearance. The reason why they are preferred by the French ofiicers Is on account of the top leather not soil ing the knees of the pantaloons when in the act of putting one leg over the other. Bonaparte rode through the lines. His beautiful charger seemed conscious of the glory of his rider, and bore him through the ranks with a commanding and majestic pace. The colours of one of the restoration op artillery colours. 303 regiments was stationed close under the window where I had the good fortune of being placed. Here the hero stopped and saluted them. At this time I was close to him, and had the pleasure of completely gratifying that curiosity of beholding the persons of distinguished men, which is so natural to all of us. A few minutes after Bonaparte had passed, I saw a procession, the history of which I did not understand at the time, but which fully explained its general purport. About two years since, one of the regiments of artillery revolted in battle. Bonaparte in anger deprived them of their colours, and suspended them, covered with crape, amongst the captive banners of the enemy, in the Hall of Victory. The regiment, affected by the disgrace, were determined to recover the lost esteem of their general and their country, or perish to the last man. When any desperate enterprise was to be performed, they volunteered their services, and, by this magnanimous compunction, covered their shame with laurels, and became the boast and pride of the republican legions. This day 304 RESTORATION OF ARTILLERY COLOUliS. was fixed upon for the restoration of their ensigns. They were raarched up, under a guard of honour, and presented to the first consul, who took the black drapei'y from their staves, tore it in pieces, threw thera on the ground, and drove bis charger indignantly over them. The regenerated banners were then restored to the regiment, with a short and suitable address. I faintly heard this laconic speech, but not distinctly enough at the time to understand it. This exhibition had its intended effect, and displayed the genius of this extraordi nary raan, who, with unerring acuteness, knows so well to give to every public occurrence that dramatic hue and interest which are so gratifying to the minds of the people over whom he pre sides. After this ceremony, the several regiments, preceded by their band of music, marched before him in open order, and dro{)ped their colours as they passed. The flying artUlery and cavalry left the parade In full gallop, and made a terrific noise upon the pavement. Each field-piece was drawn by six horses, upon a carriage with large wheels. Here the review closed. MADAME BONAPARTE. 3Q5 " Farewel, the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, " The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,/ " The royal banner, and all qualitj', " Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war," Bonaparte returned to the palace, where he held a splendid levee, at which the new Turkish embassy was introduced. In the evening Bonaparte and his lady were at the opera, where he was received with respect, but without any clamorous acclamation. Madarae Bonaparte appears to be older than the first consul. She is an elegant woman, and Is said to conduct herself, in her high station, with becoming dignity and prudence. X 306 CHAPTER XX. Abbe Sieyes. — Consular Procession to the Courtcfl'Chamber. — 10th of August, 1792. — Celerity of Monsieur Fouche's Information. — The two Lovers.'-s-Cabinet of Monsieur Le Grand. — Self-prescribing Physician.— Bust of Robespierre. —His Lodgings.— Corn Hall. — Museum of French Monu ments.— Revolutionary Agent.— Lovers of married Women. A NEAT remark was made upon the abbe Sieyes, to whose prolific mind the revolution and all its changes have been imputed. This extraordinary man has a noble house in the Champs EHs6es, and is said to have the best cook in Paris. As a party in which I was were passing his hotel, a near relation of the abbe, who happened to be with us, coraraented upon the great services which the cloistered fabricator of constitutions had afforded to France, and ad verted to his house and establlshraent as an un suitable reward for his labours. A gentleman, who was intimate with the abbe, but was no great admirer 'of his morals, said, " I think, my " dear madam, the abbe ought to be very well Consular procession— 10th of aug. 1792. 307 *-' satisfied with his destiny ; and I would advise " him to live as long as he can in the Champs " EHsees ; for when he shall happen to experi- " ence that mysterious transition to which we are *' all hastening, I think the chances will be " against his finding good accomraodations iu " any other Elysium." As I was passing one morning through the hall of the Thuilleries, the great door of the council chamber was opened, and the second and third consuls, preceded and followed by their suite in full costume, marched with great pomp to business, to the roll of a drum. This singular procession from one part of the house to the other, had a ridiculous effect, and naturally re minded me of the fustian pageantry which, upon the stage, attends the entries and exits of the kings and queens of the drama. I have often been surprised to find that the injuries which the cornice of the entrance, and the capitals of the columns in the hall of the Thuilleries, have sustained from the ball of can non, during the horrible massacre of the 10th of August, 1792, have never been repaired. Every X 2 .308 TENTH OP AUGUST, 1792. vestige of that day of dismay and slaughter ought for ever to be effaced ; instead of which, some labour has been exercised to perpetuate its re membrance. Under the largest chasms which have been made by the shot is painted, in strong characters, that gloomy date. In the evening of that day of devastation, a friend of mine went into the court-yard of the Thuilleries, where the review is now held, for the purpose of endeavouring to recognise, . amongst the dead, any of his acquaintances. In the course of this shocking search, he declared to me, that he counted no less than eight hundred bodies of Swiss and French, who had perished in a frightful contest between an infatuated people and an irresolute sovereign. I wIH not dilate upon this painful subject, but dismiss it in the words of the holy and resigned descendant of Nahor, " Let that day be darkness ; let not God " regard it from above, neither let the light shine " upon it ; let darkness and the shadow of death " stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the " blackness of the day terrify it." I have before had occasion to notice the CELERITY OF MONS. FOUCHE's INFORMATION. 309 promptitude and activity of the French police, under the penetrating eye of Monsieur Fouche. No one can escape the vigilance of this raan and his emissaries. An emigrant of respectability assured me, tbat when he and a friend of his waited upon him for their passports, to enable them to quit Paris for the south of France, he surprised them by relating to them the naraes of the towns, the streets, and of the people with whom they had lodged, at various times, during their emigration in England. Whilst I was in Paris an affair happened very near the hotel in which I lodged, which, in its sequel, displayed that high spirit and sensibility which appear to form the presiding features in the French character, to which may be attributed all the excesses which have stained, and all the glory which has erabeHished It. A lady of fortune and her only daughter, an elegant and lovely young woman, resided in the Fauxbourg St. Ger main. A young man of merit and^ accomplish ments, but unaided by the powerful pretensions of suitable fortune, cherished a passion for the young lady, to whora he had frequent access, ort 310 THfi TWO LOVERS. account of his being distantly related to her. His affection was requited with return; and before the parent suspected the attachment, the lovers were solemnly engaged. The indications of pure love are generally too unguarded to escape the keen observing eye of a cold mercenary mother. She charged her daughter with her fondness, and forbade her distracted lover the house. To close up every avenue of hope, she withdrew with her wretched child into Italy, where they remained for two years ; at the expiration of which, the mother had arranged for her daughter a match inore congenial to her own pride and avarice, with an elderly gentleman who had considerable fortune and property in the vicinity of Bourdeaux, Every necessary preparation was made for this cruel union, which it was determined should be celebrated in Paris, to which city they returned for that purpose. Two days before the marriage was intended to take place, the young lover, wrought up to phrensy by the Intelligence of the approaching nuptials, contrived, by bribing the Jjorter whilst the mother was at the opera with her intended son»in-law, to reach the room of the THE TWO LOVERS. 311 beloved being from whom he was about to be separated for eyer. Emaciated by grief, she pre sented the mere spectre of what she was when he last left her. As soon as he entered the room, he fell senseless at her feet, from which state he was roused by the loud fits of her frightful maniac laughter. She stared upon hira like one be wildered. He clasped her with one hand, and, with the other, drew from his pocket a phial con taining double distilled laurel- water : he pressed it to her lips, until she had swallowed half of its contents ; the remainder he drank himself. — The drug of death soon began to operate. Clasped in each other's arms, pale and expiring, they re viewed their hard fate, and, in faint and lessening sentences, implored of the great God of mercy, that he would pardon them for what they had done, and that he would receive their, spirits into his regions of eternal repose ; that he would be pleased. In his divine goodness, to forgive the misjudging severity which had driven them to despalr,and would support the unconscious author of it, under the heavy aflHctions which their dis- 312 THE TWO LOVERS. astrous deaths would occasion. They had scarce ly finished their prayer, when they heard footsteps approaching the room. Madame R , who had been indisposed at the opera, returned home before its conclusion, with the intended bride groom. The young man awoke, as it were, from his deadly drowsiness, and, exerting his last strength, pulled from his breast a dagger, stabbed the expiring being upon whora he doated to the heart ; and, falling upon her body, gave himself several mortal wounds. The door opened ; the frantic mother appeared. All the house was in an instant alarmed; and the fatal explanation which furnished the materials of this short and sad recital, was taken from the lips of the dying lover, who had scarcely finished it before he breathed his last. Two days afterwards, the story was hawked about the streets. From this painful narrative, I must turn to mention mj visit to Monsieur le G , who Hves in the Rue Florentine, and is considered to be one of the first architects in France ; in which are many monuments of his taste and elegance. SELF-PRESCRIBING PHYSICIAN. 313 It is a curious circumstance that all artists exer cise their talents more successfully for their pa trons than for themselves. Whether it is the hope of a more substantial reward than that of mere self complacency, which usually excites the raind to its happiest exertions, I will not pretend to de termine ; but the point seems to be in some de gree settled by the conduct of a celebrated Bath physician, of whom it Is related, that, happening once to suffer under a raalady frora which as his skill had frequently relieved others, he deterrained to prescribe for hiraself. The recipe at first had not the desired effect. The doctor was surprised ; at last he recollected that he had not feed hiraself: upon making this discovery, he drew the strings of his purse, and with his left hand placed a gui nea in his right, and then prescribed. The story concludes by informing its readers, that the pre scription succeeded, and the doctor recovered. — In adorning the front of his own hotel. Monsieur le G — — , in my very humble opinion, has not exhibited his accustomed powers. In a small confined court-yard he has attempted to give to a private dwelling the appearance of one of those 314 ANECDOTE OF MONSIEUR LE G . vast temples of which he becarae enamoured when at Athens. The portico is supported by two massy fluted colurans, which in size are cal culated to bear the burthen of sorae prodigious dome. The muscular powers of Hercules seem to be here exercised in raising a grasshopper from t'he ground. The genius of Monsieur le G , unlike the world's charity, does not begin at home, but seems more disposed to display its most successful energies abroad. His roof, how ever, contains such a monument of his goodness and generosity, that I must not pass it over. This distinguished architect is one of those unfortunate beings who have been decreed to taste the bitter ness, very soon after the sweets, of matrimony. Upon discovering the infidelity of his lady, who is very pretty and prepossessing, the distracted husband immediately sought a divorce from the laws of his country. This affair happened a very short time before the revolution afforded unusual acceleration and facilities to the wishes of parties, who, under similar circumstances, wished to get rid of each other as soon as possible. The then ?' law's delay " afforded sorae cause of vexation ANECDOTE OF MONSIEUR LE G . 315 to Monsieur le G , who was deeply injured. Before his suit had passed through its last forms, the father of his wife, who at the time of their marriage lived in great affluence, becarae a bank rupt. In the vortex of his failure, all the raeans of supporting his faraily were swallowed up. The generous le G , disdaining to expose to want and ignominy the woraan who had once been dear to hira, would proceed no further. She is StiH his wife ; she bears his name, is maintained by hira, and in a separate suite of apartraents lives under the sarae roof with him. But Mon sieur and Madame le G have had no inter course whatever with each other for eleven years. If in the gallery or in the hall they meet by acci dent, they pass without the interchange of a word. This painful and difficult arrangement has now lost a considerable portion of its misery, by having become familiar to the unfortunate couple. In the valuable and curious cabinet of Mon sieur le G , I found out, behind several other casts, a bust of Robespierre, which was taken of him a short period before he fell. A tyrant, whose 316 BUST OF ROBESPlERRf. offences look white, contrasted with the deepde* linquency ofthe oppressor of France, is said to be indebted more to his character, than to nature, for the representation of that deformity of person which appears in Shakspeare's portrait of him, when he puts this soliloquy in his lips : — " I that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, " Cheated of feature, by dissembling Nature, " Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time, " Into the breathing world, scarce half made up ; " And that so lamely and unfashionably, " That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them." Thus history, enraged at the review of the insatia ble criraes of Robespierre, has already bestowed upon hira a fanciful physiognomy, which she has composed of features which rather correspond with the ferocity of bis soul, than with his real countenance. Frora the appearance of this bust, which is an authentic resemblance of hira, his face must have been rather handsorae, but smaH, and his countenance must have strongly expressed animation, penetration, and subtlety. This bust is a real curiosity. It is very likely that not another is now to be found. Mon sieur le G — — is permitted to preserve it, withv CORN HALL. 31? out reproach, on account of his art. I can safely say, he does not retain it from any emotions of veneration for the original. It is worthy of being placed between the heads of CaHgula and Nero. Very near the residence of Monsieur le G is the house in which Robespierre , lodged. It is at the end of the Rue Florentine, in the Rue St. Honor^, at a wax chandler's. This man is too much celebrated, not to render every thing which relates to him curious. The front windows of his former lodgings look towards the Place de la Con corde, on the right of which his prime minister, the permanent guillotine, was quartered. From Robespierre's lodgings, curiosity led me to visit the building in which the Jacobin club held their Pandemonium. It is a noble edifice, and once belonged to the order of Jacobins. Near this church stands the beautiful fabric of the Corn Hall of Paris, designed by Monsieur le Grand. The dome of the bank of England is in the same style, but inferior in point of lightness and ele gance. That of the Corn Hall resembles a vast concavity of glass *. In this noble building the * This exquisite building has since been destroyed by fire. 318 MUSEUM OP FRENCH MONUMENTS. millers deposit their corn for sale. Its deep arid lofty arches and area were nearly filled with sacks, containing that grain which is precious to afl na tions, but to none more than the French ; to a Frenchraan, bread is most emphatically the staff of life. He consumes more of it at one meal than an Englishraan does at four. In France, the little coraparative quantity of bread which the English consurae, is considered to form a part of their national character. Before I left Paris, I was requested to visit a very curious and interesting exhibition, the Mu seum of French Monuraents ; for the reception of which, the ancient convent ofthe monks of the Order of les Petits Augustines is appropriated. This national institution is intended to exhibit the progress of monumental taste in France, for several centuries past, the specimens of which have chiefly been collected from St. Denis, which formerly was the burial place of the monarchs of France, and from other churches. It will be remembered by the reader, that in the year 1793, Henriot, a vulgar and furious re publican, proposed setting off for the former MUSEUM OF FRENCH MONUMENTS. 319 church, at the head of the sans culottes, to destroy all these curious and valuable relics, " to strike," as he said, " the tyrants in their tombs;" but was prevented by some other republicans of in fluence, who had not parted with their venera tion for works of taste, frora this irapious and im potent outrage. In the first haH, which is very large, and im presses a similar awe to that which Is generally felt upon entering a cathedral, are the tombs of the twelfth century. Amongst thera I chiefly distinguished that of Henry II., upon which are three beautiful mourning figures, supporting a cup, containing his heart. , In the second hall, are the monuraents of the thirteenth century : raost of them are very fine ; that of Lewis XII. and his queen, is well worthy of notice. I did not find much to gratify me In the hall of the fourteenth century. In that of the fifteenth century are several noble tombs, and beautiful windows of stained glass. In the hall of the sixteenth century Is a fine statue of Henry IV., by Franchville, which is considered 320 MUSEUM OP FRENCH MONUMENTS. to I be an admirable likeness of that wonderful man. In the hall of the seventeenth century, is a noble figure, representing religion, by Girardon. In the cloisters are several curious statues, stained glass windows, and tesselated pavement. There is here also a good bust of Alexis Peron, with this singular epitaph, Ci git qui ne fut rien, Pas meme academicien. In the square garden within the cloisters, are several ancient urns and torabs. Araongst them is the vase which contains the ashes, if any re main, of Abelard and Helolse, which has been removed from the Paraclete to the Museum. It is covered with the graceful shade of an Acacia tree, which seems to wave proudly over its cele brated deposit. Upon approaching this treasur- able antique, all those feelings rushed in upon me, which the beautiful and affecting narrative of those disastrous lovers, by Pope, has often ex cited in me. The melancholy Helolse seemed to breathe from her tomb here. MUSEUM OF FRENCH MONUMENTS. 324 " If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings, " O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, " And drink the falling tear each other sheds : " Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd, " Oh ! may we never love as these have lov'd." National guards are stationed in every apart ment of the Museum, and present rather an un» according appearance amidst the peaceful so lemnity of the surrounding objects. This exhibi tion Is not yet completed, but. In its present condition, is very Interesting. Some hints, not altogether useless, may be collected from it. In England our churches are charnel houses. The pews of the congregation are raised upon foun dations of putrefaction. For six days and nights the temple of devotion is filled with the pestilent vapours of the dead, and on the seventh they are absorbed by the living. Surely it is high time to subdue prejudices which endanger health without promoting piety. The Scotch bury their dead upon the confines of their towns. The eye of adoration is filled with a pensive pleasure, in ob serving itself surrounded with the endeavours of taste and ingenuity, to lift the remembrance of Y 323 REVOLUTIONARY AGENTS. the great and good beyond the grave. In that very spot where the frailty of our nature is so often inculcated. Such a display, in such a' place, is rational, suitable, and admonitory. The silent tomb be comes auxiliary to the eloquence of the pulpit. But the custom which converts the place of wor ship into a catacomb, can afford but a mistaken consolation to posthumous pride, and must, in some degree, contaminate the atmosphere con tained within its walls. One evening as I was passing through the Boulevard Itallen, in company with a gentleman frorn Toulon, we met a tall, dark, hollow-eyed, ferocious looking man, of whom he related the following story. Imraediately after the evacua tion of Toulon by the English, all the principal Toulonese citizens were ordered to repair to the market-place, where they were surrounded by a great military force. This man, who, for his offences, had been committed to prison, was li berated by the French agents, in consequence of his undertaking to select those of the inhabitants who had in any manner favoured the capitulation REVOLUTIONARY AGENTS. 323 of the town, or who had shown any hospitality to the English whilst they were in possession of it. The miscreant passed before the citizens, who were drawn out in lines, amounting to near three thousand : amongst whom he pointed out about one thousand four hundred persons to the fury of the government ; without any other evi dence, or further examination, they were all im mediately adjudged to be shot. For this purpose a suitable nuraber of soldiers were drawn out ; the unhappy victims were marched up to their destruction, upon the quay, in sets of three hun dred, and butchered. The carnage was dreadful. In the last of these unfortunate groups were two gentlemen of great respectability, who received no wound fi-om the fire, but, to preserve thera selves, dropped with the rest, and exhibited all the appearances of having participated In the general fate. This execution took place In the evening : immediately after its close, the soldiers, fatigued and sick with cold-blooded slaughter, marched back to their quarters, without examining whether every person upon whom they had Y 2 324 REVOLUTIONARY* AGENTS. fired, had faHen a victim to the murderous, bullet. Soon after the soldiers had retired, the women of Toulon, allured by plunder, pro ceeded to the fatal s{>ot. Mounted upon the bodies of the fallen, they stripped the dead and dying. The night was stormy ; the moon, emerg ing from dark clouds, occasionally shed its pal© lustre upon this horrible scene. When the plun derers had abandoned their prey, during an interval of deep darkness, in the dead of the night, when all was silent, unconscious of each other's intentions, the tvro citizens who had escaped the general carnage disencumbered themselves from the dead, under whom they were burled: chilled and nearly naked, in an agony of mind not to be described, they, at the same moment, attempted to escape. In their agitation they rushed against each other. Ex pressions of terror and surprise dropped from each of thera. ''Oh! God! it is my father!" said one ; " my son, my son, ray son I" exclaimed the other, clasping him In his arras. They were father and son, who had thus miraculously escaped, and met in this extraordinary manner. REVOLUTIONARY AGENTS-. 325 The person from whom I received this ac count, informed me that he knew these gentle men very well, and that they had been re-settled in Toulon about two years; The wretch who had thus directed the ruth less vengeance of a revolutionary banditti against the breasts of his fellow-citizens, was, at this tirae. In Paris, soliciting from the present govern ment, from a total misconception of Its nature, those remunerations which had been promised, but never realised, by his barbarous employersi I need scarcely add, that although he had been In the capital several raonths, he had not been able to gain access to the minister's secretary. The time of terror was over*-the murderer's occupation was gone — the guillotine, with un- satiated hunger, after having gorged the food which was thrown to , it, had devoured its feeder. . I must leave it to the ingenuity of rrly reader to connect the observation with which I shall close this chapter with the preceding story, for I am only enabled to do so by observing, that an 325 LOVERS O*' MARRIED WOMEN. impressive instance of the subject of it occurred immediately after my mind had been harrowed up by the narrative which I have just related. The married women of France feel no compuncr tlous visitings - of conscience in cherishing about them a circle of lovers, amongst whom their hus bands are merely more favoured thafc the rest. I hope I shall not be considered as an apologist for an indulgence which, in France, excites no jealousy in one, and no surprise araongst the many, when I declare, that I confidently beHeve, in most instances, it comraences, and guiltlessly terminates, in the love of admiration. I know, and visited in Paris, a most lovely and accom plished young woman, who had been married about two years. She admitted the visits of men who she knew were passionately fond of her. Sometimes she received them in the presence, and sometimes in the absence, of her husband, as accident, not arrangeraent, directed. They approached her with all the agitation and tender ness of the most ardent lovers. Amongst the number was a certain celebrated orator: this man was her abject slave ; a glance from her LOVERS OF MARRIED WOMEN. 327 expressive eye raised him to the summit of bliss, or rendered his nights sleepless. The com placent husband of Madame G regarded these men as his most beloved friends, because they enlarged the happiness of his wife ; and, strange as it may appear, I believe that he had as little cause to coraplain as Othello, and therefore never perraitted his repose to be disturbed by those suspicions which preyed upon the vitals of the hapless Moor. The French Benedict might truly exclaim, " 'Tis not to make me jealous, " To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, " Is free of speechj sings, plays, and dances well: " Where virtue is, these are more virtuous; " Nor from my own weak merits will I draw " The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt," 32S CHAPTER XXI, Picturesque and Mechanical Theatre. — Filtrating and Puri fying "Vases. — A Farewel. — Messagerie. — Mal Maison. — Forest of Evreux. — Lower Normandy. — Caen. — Hon. T. Erskine. — A Ball. — The Keeper of the Sacristy of Notre Dame. — The two blind Beggars, — Ennui. — St, Lo. — Cherbourg. — England. I VISITED one evening a very beautiful exhi bition, which I think worthy of being noticed ; it was the picturesque and mechanical theatre. The company present were select and genteel : the room and stage were upon a sraall scale ; the former was Very elegantly fitted up. The spectacle consisted of scenery and appropriate little moving figures. The first scene was a view of a wood in .early morning : every object looked blue, fresh, and dewy. The gradations of Hght, until the approach of meridian day, were adralrably represented. Serpents were seen crawling in the grass ; a little sportsman entered with his fowling- piece, and imitated all the movements natural to PICTURESaUE AND MECHANICAL THEATRE. 329 his pursuit ; a tiny wild duck rose from a lake, and flew before him. He pointed his gun, changed his situation, pointed It again, and fired : the bird dropped : he threw it over his shoulders, fastened to bis gun, and retired. Waggons, drawn by horses about four inches high, passed along; groups of peasantry followed, exquisitely imitating all the indications of life. Amongst several other scenes was a beautiful view of the bay of Naples, and the great bridge ; over which little horses, with their riders, passed in the various paces of walking, trotting, and galloping. All the mInutlcE of nature were at tended to. The ear was beguiled with the pat ting of horses' hoofs upon the pavement ; and some of the little animals reared and ran before the others. There were also some charming Httle sea-pieces, in which the vessels sailed with their heads towards the spectators, and manoeu vred in a surprising manner. The whole con cluded with a storm and shipwreck. Sailors were seen floating In the water, then sinking In the surge. One of them rose again, and reached a rock : boats put off to his relief, and perished in 330 PI€TU.RE3«UB ANn BtBCHANICAli THBA'CEBi the attempt 3 the littlfe figure was seen; displayingi the greatest: agonies. .The stotm silb^ided;; tiny- persons appeared, upon the top of a .prbjecting cHff, near a watch-tower, and lovvered a rope to the little sufferer below, which he caught, and^ after ascending to some, height by it, overwhelm ed with fatigue, lost his hold:: after recovering from his fall, he renewed his efforts, and at length reached the top in safety, amidst the acclama tions of the spectators, who, moved by this en chanting little illusion; took much interest in the apparent distress of the scene. Upon quitting the theatre, we found a real storm without. The lightning flamed upon us from every quarter, and was succeeded by loud peals of thunder. Whilst we were contemplat ing the tempest from the balcony of Madame S , a ball of fire fell very near us, and filled the room with a sulphureous stench. A servant soon afterwards entered, almost breathless, to in form his mistress, Madame R — , who was of the party, that the fire-ball had penetrated her house, which was close adjoining, without having effected any injury. Madame R laughed FILTRATING AND PURIFVINQ VASES. 331 heartily, and observed, "Well, it is very droll " that the Hghtning should make so free with my " house when I am not at home." This llttle> sprightly reraark dispersed the gloom which had> overshadowed raost of the ladies present, All the large houses in Paris are well protected against the perilous effect of electric fluid, by conductors, which are very judiciously disposed. An invention has lately made its appearance in Paris, which is as full of utility as it is of genius. A house has been lately opened for the sale of filtrating and purifying vases, to which the ingenious constructor has given the most elegant Etruscan shapes. They are capable of refining , the most fetid and corrupt water, by a process which. In Its operation, lasts about four minutes. The principle Is the same as in nature. The foul water is thrown into the vase, where it passes through various strata of earth, which are com pressed in a series of Httle apartments, which re tain Its offensive particles, and from which It issues as clear and as sweet as rock water. This discovery will prove of Infinite consequence to families who reside in the maritime parts of Hoi- 332 A FAREWEL. land, and to many inland towns in France, wherie the water is frequently very bad. I most cordi ally hope that the inventor will meet with the remuneration which is due to his humane phi losophy. After having experienced a most cordial dis play of kindnesses and hospitalities, I prepared to return to my own country, " that precious " stone set In the silver sea." I had to part with those who, in the short space of one fleeting month, had, by their endearing and flattering attentions, rivetted themselves to ray affections, with the force of a long, and frequent, and che rished intercourse; who, in a country where I ex pected to feel the corafortless sensations of a fo reigner, made me forget that I was even a stran* ger. Amongst those who excited a considerable share of my regret upon parting, were the elegant and charming ¦ family of the S s. As I was preparing to take my leave, Madarae S said, " You must not forget us because a few waves " divide our countries." " If he will lend rae his pocket-book," said one of her lovely daughters, " I wIH try and see A FAREWELL. 333 " if my pencil will not preserve us in his memory, •' at least for a little time." I presented it to her, and in a few minutes she made an elegant little sketch, which she called " The affectionate Mother." Amiable young artist 1 raay time, propitious to the happi ness of some generous being, who is worthy of such an associate, hail thee with the bHssful ap- peHatlon ! and raay the graceful discharge of those refined and affecting duties which flow frora connubial love, entitle thee, too rauch esteemed to be envied, to the narae of the rao- dern Cornelia ! Several Engllshraen, whilst I was at Paris, met with very vexatious delays in procuring their passports to enable them to leave it, frora a rais- taken course of application. Instead of applying to M. Fouche, or any other municipal officer, I would recomraend thera to procure their pass port frora their own ambassador, and send it to ' the office of Monsieur Tallevrand for his endorse- ment ; by which means they will be enabled to quit the republic in two or three days after their application, 334 MES$AGERIE, Having previously determined to return by the way of Lower Normandy, iipon the beauty and luxuriance of'which I had heard much eu logy, about half past five o'clock In the morning of the 21st of Pralrial, I left my hotel, and pro ceeded to the Messagerie, from which the dili gences, all of which are under the control of the nation, set out. The raorning was very beauti ful. I was m lich entertained ' before I raounted that cumbrous vehicle, which was to roll me a Httle nearer to my own coast, by viewing the nu merous groups of travellers and their friends, who surrounded the different carriages as the horses were tackling to them. In different directions of my eye, I saw about thirty men kissing each other. The women in France never think their prerogatives infringed by this antl-anglo mode of salutation. Some shed tears at parting; but the cheek down which they trickled never lost its colour or vivacity. All were animated ; every eye looked bright ; there was a gaiety in their very grief. " Bon voyage, bon voyage — Dieu " vous benlsse, Dieu vous benisse," reiterated on all sides from sprightly faces, stretched out of the MSSSAGERIEr 333 window frames pf the massy' machine, as it rattled through the gates of the yard, to the incessant crackings of the postilHan's long lash. I soon afterwards found myself seated in the diligence for Cherbourg, in company with two ladles, and three gentlemen, who were all polite and pleasing. In the cabriole, forward, was a French captain in the army, who had been in Tippoo's service at the time of the surrender of Serlngapatara. He looked abominably dirty in his travelling habili ments ; but that, in France, is now no just indi cation of inferiority or vulgarity. We passed by the Place de la Concorde, upon the statues and buildings of which, and the gar dens of the Thuilleries, the fresh and early sun shone most beautifully. My merry, but feeling fellow travellers, waving their hands, addressed a short apostrophe to these mute objects of their re gard, and exclaimed, " adieu ma tres jolie ville " — ah ! tres jolie ville adieu." For near three miles after leaving the barrier, we passed through plantations of roses, which supply the markets of Paris with that beautiful flower, which, transferred thence, adorn the toi- 33d MAL MAISON.' lets, the vases, and the bosoms, of the fair Pa risians,' and form the favourite bouquets of the petits maitres; on each side of the road were cherry trees, in full bearing, which presented a very charming appearance. We soon reached the water-works of Marli, which supply the jets d'eau of Versailles. They are upon a vast scale, and appear to be very curious. A little further on we passed Mal Maison, the country and chief residence of the first consul and his family. It is an ancient house, embosomed in beautiful woods and gardens. At the entrance are large miHtary lodges, for the accomraodation of a squadron of the consular cavalry, who mount guard when their general is here. At St. Gerraain's we breakfasted upon pork cutlets, excellent bread, wine, and cherries, for twenty sols, or ten pence English. At Mante we had an excellent dinner, of several dishes, for thirty sols, or one shIUIng and three pence Eng lish. Soon after we had passed Mante, we left the higher Norraan road, and entered a country extremely picturesque and rich. We were con ducted through the forest of Evreux by an escort FOREST OF EVREUX. 337 of chasseurs. This vast tract of land is infested by an immense banditti, who live in large exca vations in the earth, similar to the subterranean apartments of the celebrated robbers in whose service Gil Bias was rather reluctantly enrolled, and generally assail the traveller with a force which would render coraraon resistance perilous and unavailing. This forest, in the course of the year, furnishes considerable employ for the guil lotine of Caen, where the tribunal of justice is seated. The appearance of our guards was ter rific enough to appal such valiant souls as once animated the frames oi prince Hal, and his merry friend Ned Poins. They wore Roman helmets, from which descended, to the bottom of their backs, an Immense tail of thick black horsehair ; their uniform was light green, and looked rather shabby. We passed ihe forest without any molestation, and supped at the town of Evreux, which is very pleasant, where we halted for about four hours. As we were afterwards proceeding, I prepared myself to enjoy a Htde sleep, and as I reclinecf*^ for this purpose with my hat over my face, Io a z 338 LOWER NORMANDY. corner of the carriage, I overheard one of my fellow travellers observe to the other, " The Eng- *' lishraan is sleeping;" to which he repHed, " No, " he Is not sleeping, he is only thinking ; it is the " character of his nation." The French cannot bear the least appearance of thought ; they have a. saying, " Un homme qui •* rit ne sera jamais dangereux." The next morning we breakfasted at LIsIeux, an ancient town, in which are the reraains of a fine convent, which formerly belonged to the Order of the Capuchins. For four or five miles before we approached the town, the laughing and animated faces of groups of peasantry, afl in their jubilee dresses, the old mounted upon asses, and the young walking by the sides of them, hastening to the town, announced to us that a fair and merry making was to be held there on that day. IJsieux was quite in a bustle. About six o'clock In the evening ofthe same day, we arrived at Caen, the capital of lower Normandy. My fare to this city from. Paris amounted to thirty livres, including my luggage. I had not completed my dinner at the Hotel de la Place, before an English servant en- ^ v^ CAEN. 339 , tered my room, to Inform me, that his mistress, Mrs.P -, who, with her daughters, and an other young lady, had the rooms over mine, pre- sented her complimeftts to me, and requested rae to take ray coffee with them that evening. I must confess I was at first a little surprised at the mes sage, for the EngHsh are not very remarkable for politeness and attention to one another in a fo reign country. After I had finished my dessert, I made my bow to Mrs. P , and her family, who proved to be very pleasant and accomplished people, and were making the tour of France. They had been In Caen near three weeks, where they had a large acquaintance of the first respectabUIty. This unexpected Introduc tion became additionally agreeable, upon my discovery at the Messagerie, that the diligence for Cherbourg would not proceed till three days from the time of my arrival. The next morning I rambled with my new friends about the city, which is large and handsome, and Is watered by the river Orne : it Is much celebrated for Its lace trade. On that day I dined with Mrs.P •, z 3 340 PALAIS DE JUSTICE. and a French party, and was regaled with an English dinner, cooked, and served up by her own servants. The filth ofthe French kitchen is too well known, to make it necessary for me to say how delicious such a dinner was. The French admit theraselves that their cooks are destitute of cleanliness. The convent of the Benedictines, now con verted Into the palace of the prefect, is a noble building. The gardens belonging to It are wefl arranged. The proraenade called de la Cour is very charraing, from which the city is seen to great advantage. The water of the Orne is rather nauseous, but Is not considered unwhole some. The Palais de Justice is a fine modern structure. In its courts of law, I had again an opportunity of hearing the forensic elocution of Normandy. The gestures and vehemence of the orators here, as at Rouen, appeared to me to be tinctured with the extravagance of phrensy. But, perhaps, I have been rendered somewhat too fas tidious by having been so frequently banqueted with the grace, animation, and commanding elo quence of the unrivaHed advocate of the British bar ; HON. T. ERSKINE. 341 who, when he retires from the laborious duties of the crowded and admiring forum, where his acute and Illuminating sagacity has so often flashed Hght and conviction upon the darkest scenes of human obliquity, and where his wit and fancy have covered with the choicest flowers, the dreary barrenness of technical pleading ; will leave be hind him the lasting and honourable respect and reraembrance, which faculties so great and so ex tensively beneficial, must ever excite In the minds of men who have been instructed, delighted, and benefited, by their prosperous and splendid dis play *. In this city was pointed out to me, the house in which the celebrated Charlotte Corday resided, who, by her poniard, delivered France of the monster, Marat, on Sunday, the 14th of July, 1793. There is some coincidence In the crimes and fate of Caligula and Marat ; both perished by the avengers of their country, and whilst In the act of approaching their baths. Posterity will em balm, with Its grateful remembrance, the pa- * Lord Erskine. 342 A BALL. triotic heroism of this great and distinguished female, and, in her own firm and eloquent lan^ guage, will say of her, " that crime begets disi- " grace, and not the scaffold." On the evening after my arrival at^ Caen, I was invited to an elegant ball, which was given by the lady of the paymaster general of the di strict, in one of the government house^. I had before witnessed the dancing of the higher orders of people in Paris, and from this reason was not surprised in contemplating the exquisite grace which was here displayed, The party consisted of near eighty persons. Amongst them were the judges of the district, and the principal ofllicers quartered in the city and its neighbourhood ; the latter were attired in superb military dresses. Amongst the ladles were several beautiful, well dressed young wonien, who exhibited their per^ sons to great advantage. The grave and elderly part ofthe company played at buillotte, which is at present the favourite French game. In France, to please and to be pleased seem to be the two presiding principles In all their raeetipgs. An elegant young ofiicer, who had distinguished him- A pALL, 343 self at the battle of Marengo, observing that the musicians appeared to be a Httle fatigued, by the contribution of their exhilarating services towards the festivity of the evening, supplied their room whilst they refreshed theraselves, and struck up an English country dance on one of the violins. The party attempted to dance It, but to show how arbitrary habit is, in the attempt, all those powers of grace, which they had before so beautifully displayed, retired as if influenced by the magic of some unpropitious spirit. Amongst the party, was a Httle girl, about nine years old, who was dressed in the highest style of fashion, and looked like a fashionable milliner's doll. This little spoiled child was accustoraed to spend an hour at her toilette every raorning, and to be tricked out In all the ephemeral decoration of the haut ton : the little coquette already looked out for adralratlon, and its foolish raother expressed the greatest satisfaction when any one, out of polite ness to her, paid attentions to the pert preraature nursling. Our entertainment concluded with a handsome supper, and we parted, highly de lighted; at the dawn of day. Nothing could be 344 NOTRE DAME. more flattering than the attentions, which, as an Englishman, I received from every one pre sent. After a few hours repose, I went with a large party to the church of Notre Dame ; in which there is a very fine altar piece. The keeper of the sacristy, who was a very arch-looking little fellow, in spite of the solemnity ofthe place In which we were, made us all smile (even a young lady who was going to be confessed for the first time the next day, lost a considerable proportion of her gravity) by informing us, that during the time of terror he had run off with the Virgin Mary, pointing at the same time to. the image, and that to prevent the detection of Robespierre's agents, he had concealed her In his bed for three years. Nothing could exceed his joy in having saved her from the hatchet or the flames, from which impending fate she was restored to her former situation in this church ; and was, when we saw her, by the extravagance of her sprightly and ardent protector, dressed In a white muslin gown, spotted With silver ; a little bouquet of ar tificial flowers graced her bosom, and her wig NOTRE DAME. 315 was finely curled and powdered. The figure In her arms, which was Intended to represent the infant Jesus, was dressed in a style equally un suitable ; his hair was also curled and powdered and a small cocked hat placed upon his head. Our delighted guide, whose eyes sparkled with self-complacency, asked us if we had ever seen a prettier Virgin Mary, or one dressed more hand somely. We were all rauch amused by the quaintness of this man's conduct, although I am confident he had no Intention of exciting- unbe- coming sensations, for in saving this image he had exposed his life. From Notre Dame, we went to the Abbaye ;iux Hommes, built by William the Conqueror. It is a large lofty plain pile cf building. The spires are well proportioned, and very high. The pillars in the choir are. In my humble opinion, too massy. Preparations were here making fgr the pelebratlon of the great festival called the Feast of God. We presented to one of the priests, who. In the sacristy, was adorning the cradle of our Saviour's image with flowers, sorae very fine moss roses, which in France are very 34G THE TWO BLIND BEGGARS. rare, which he received with great politeness, This festival before the revolution was always superbly celebrated. It was then renewed for the first time since the proscription of religion, during which all the costly habits of the priests, and rich vessels used in the ceremonies of the church have been stolen, sold, or melted down. Near the altar, which has been shattered by the axe of the revolution, is the vault of William the Conqueror. Upon our return to our hotel, we saw a con siderable crowd assembled near the bridge lead ing to de la Cour. Upon inquiring into the cause of this assemblage, we found it was owing to a curious rencounter between two bHnd beggars, who, in total darkness, had been waging an un certain battle for near six minutes. It appeared that one of tbem had for several months enjoyed quiet possession of the bridge, which happened to be a great thoroughfare, and had, during that time, by an undisputed display of his calamity, contrived to pick up a comfortable recompense for it ; that within a few days preceding this povel fracas, another mendicant, who had equal THE TWO BLIND BEGGARS. 34? claims to compassion, aHured by the repute of his success, had deserted a less frequented part of the city, and had presented himself at the other cor ner of the same bridge, where, by a more mas terly selection of moving phrases, he soon not only divided, but monopolized the eleemosynary revenues of this post of wretchedness. The original possessor naturafly grew jealous. Even beggars " can bear no brother near the throne." Inflamed with jealousy, he silently moved towards his rival, by the sound of whose voice, which was then sending forth some of Its most affecting and purse-drawing strains, he was enabled to deter mine whether his arm was within reach of the head of his competitor, which circumstance having with due nicety ascertained, he clenched his fist, which, in weight, size, and firmness, was not much surpassed by the hard and ponderous paw of a full grown tiger, and, with all the force of that propulsion which a formidable set of mus cles afforded, he felled his rival to the ground, and, not knowing that he was fallen, discharged many other blows, which only served to disturb the tranquillity of the air. The recumbent hero. 348 THE TWO BLIND BEGGARS. whose head was framed for enterprises of this nature, soon recovered from the assault, and, after many unavailing efforts in the 'dark, at length succeeded In opening one of the vessels of the broad nose of his brawny assailant, whose blood, enriched by good living, streamed out most copiously. In this condition we saw these orbless combatants, who were speedily separated from each other. Some of the crowd were en deavouring to form a treaty of pacification be tween them ; whether they succeeded I know not, for we were obliged to leave the bridge of battle before these Important points were ar ranged, to join a pleasant party at Monsieur St. J 's, an opulent banker at Caen, to whom I had letters of Introduction from Monsieur R , the banker of Paris. After spending the short time during which I was detained at Caen very pleasantly, I resumed my seat in the diligence for Cherbourg, in which I found a very agreeable woman, her two daugh ters, two canary birds, a cat and her kitten, who were, I found, to be ray companions afl the way. After we left Caen the roads became very badj BAYEUX. — ENNUI, 34() our ponderous machine frequently rolled from one side to the other, and, with many alarming creak- ings, threatened us with a heavy and perilous overthrow. At length we arrived at Bayeux, where we dined at the house of a friend of my fair fellow-traveller, to which she invited me with a tone of welcome and good wishes which over powered all resistance. We sat down to an ex cellent dinner, at which was produced the usual favourite French dish of cold turbot and raw ar tichokes. After our repast, a fine young woman, the daughter of the lady of the house, In a very obliging, but rather grave manner, poured out a tumbler full of some delicious potent Hqueur, which, to my no small surprise, she presented me with ; upon my only tasting it, and returning it, she appeared to be equally surprised and con fused. Her raother, observing our rautual era- barrassment, informed me, that In France it was understood that the English were troubled with the ennui, or tristesse de cceur, and that they drank large draughts of wine and spirits to expel the gloomy malady. I softened this opinion of our common character as well as I could ; for, I 350 AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM. fear, without offering considerable outrage td truth, I could not wholly have denied it. After dinner we walked to the cathedral, which is a noble Gothic pile, and upon our re^ turn found the diligence In waiting for Us. My companions were attended to the door of the carriage by their hospitable friends, between whom several kisses were interchanged. I took an opportunity, just before I mounted the step, of stealing one of these tokens of regard from the fair young damsel who had so courteously offered me the liqueur, at the same time telling her, that in England a kiss was always considered as the best reraedy for the tristesse de coeur.^ — Our Httle Norman steeds trotted in good style ; and, notwithstanding they had come all the way frora CaeUjthey soon carried us over the hills on the other side of Bayeux. The eye communicated delight to the heart whilst It contemplated the vast extent of corn fields which, in this fertile province, un dulated on all sides of us In waves of yellow ex uberance, over which, embosomed In trees, at short distances, peeped the peaceful and pictu resque abode of the prosperous cottage farmer. AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM. ^il The prospect afforded an impressive contrast to the impolitic agricultural system which has lately obtained In England, by which cottage farms are consolidated into ample domains of monopoly, artd a baneful preference is given in favour of the rearing of cattle, to the vital and bountiful labours of the plough, A celebrated writer, who well knewr in what the real wealth of a nation consisted, has observed, that he who could make two ears of corn grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind than the whole race of politicians. The high roads of Normandy are unnecessarily broad ; hence considerable portions of land remain uncultivated. A spacious road, Hke every thing which Is vast, excites an impres sion of grandeur ; but, In this prolific depart ment, the facilities of travelling, and the dignity of the country, might be consulted with less waste. This prodigality Is perhaps attributable to the highways In France having shared but Httle of Its legislative attention : and accommo dation appears to have been sought rather by a ,352 ST. LO. lavish allotment of space, than by a judicious formation and frequent repair *. The inns along the road are very poor, al though over the door of almost every little cottage is written, in large characters, " Bon Cidre de " VIctoIre." There are also no regular post- horses to be met with. The country, on all sides of us, was very mountainous and luxuriant, and much resembled the southern parts of Devon shire. About seven o'clock in the evening of the sarae day, we arrived at St. Lo, which Is, without exception, the cleanest and most charming ro mantic little town I saw In France. It is forti fied, and stands upon the top of a mountain, at whose base Is expanded a luxuriant scenery of woods and villages, through which the riviere de ViHe winds In beautiful meanders. The Inhabit ants of this town appeared to be rich and gen teel. In the evening I supped at the table d'hote, where there were several pleasant people. At * Since this book was first written the French have re paired and improved their roads, so as to render travelling in France unrivalled. -O-J CHERBOURG. 353 this town we slept, and set off the next morning very early for Valogne, where we dined ; and In the evening, after passing a considerable extent of rich meadow land, and descending a very steep hill, the freshness of the sea air announced to us our near approach to Cherbourg, where, at the hotel d'Angleterre, I was soon afterwards landed. For my place and luggage to this place I paid twenty-four livres, and my expenses upon the road were very reasonable. Here I had the good fortune to find a packet which intended to sail to England In two days, the master of which asked me only one guinea for my passage in the cabin, provisions included. However, thinking diat the kitchen of a French vessel might, if possible, be more uncleanly than the kitchen of a French inn, I resolved upon providing my own refreshments for the little voyage. Cherbourg is a poor and dirty town. After having heard so much of its costly works and for tifications for the protection of its harbour, my surprise was not little upon finding the place so niiserable. It is defended by three great forts, which are erected upon rocks In the sea. ^fhe 2 A 354 CHEBBOUIRG, centre one is about three miles off from shore, and is garrisoned by 1200 men. At a distance this fort looks like a vast floating battery. Upon a line with It, but divided by a distance sufficient for the admission of shipping, commences the celebrated stupendous wafl, which has been erected since the failure of the cones. It Is just visible at low water. This surprising work is six mlks In length, and proportionably broad, and is composed of massy stones and masonry, which have been sunk for the purpose, and which are now cemented by sea-weed, their own weight, and cohesion, into one immense mass of rock. Upon this wall a chain of forts is intended to be erected, as soon as the finances of government win admit of it. The expenses which have already been Incurred In constructing this won derful fabric, have, It is said, exceeded two mil lions sterling. These costly protective barriers can only be considered as so many monuments, erected by the French, to the genius and prowess of the British navy. Whilst I was waiting for the packet's sailing I received great civilities frora Monsieur C , CHERBOURG. -^¦* the banker and American consul at Cherbourg, to whom I had letters from Monsieur R • I rode, the second evening after my arrival, to his country house, which was about nine miles irom the town. Our road to It lay over a proh.'^c and mountainous country. From a high point of lane , as we passed along, we saw the islands of Guern sey, Jersey, and Alderney, which made a beauti ful appearance upon the sea. Upon our return, by another road, I was much pleased with a group of Htde cottages, which were embosorr.sd in a beautiful wood, through which th^re was ar. opening to the sea, which the sinking sun had then overspread wnth the richest lustre. As v. . entered this scene of rustic repose, the angelui bell of the Httle vIHage church rang ; and a short time afterwards, as we approached It, a number of villagers came out from the porch, with their mass-books In their hands, their countenances beaming with happiness, and iUuminated by the sinking sun, which shone full upon them. The charms of this simple scene arrested our progress for a short time. Under some spreading limes, upon a sloping lawn, the cheerful cottagers cbsed 2 A 2 356 NORMAN HUNTER. the evening with dancing to the sounds of one of the sweetest flagelets I ever heard, which was alternately played by several performers, who re lieved each other. In France every man is a musician. Goldsmith's charming picture of his Auburn, in its happier times, recurred to rae : — " When toil remitting, lends its turn to play, " And all the village train, from labour free, " Led up th'eir sports beneath the spreading tree." The cross roads of France are very bad ; but, to my surprise, although we never could have had a worse specimen of them than what this excursion presented to us, yet the Norman hunter upon which I was mounted carried me over the deepest ruts and abrupt hillocks with perfect ease and safety. In the fnorning of the day In which tjie packet was to sail, a favourable breeze sprung up ; and, after undergoing the usual search ofthe revenue officers. In the execution of which they behaved with much civility, I embarked, and bade adieu to continental ground. The vessel had the appearance of being freighted with hot bread, with which the deck was covered frora VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. ^^7 one end to the other. This Immense collecticn of smoking loaves was Intended for the supply ot six men and one woman, during a passage which we expected to accomplish in thirty hours, or less ! The faithful associate of our young captain. to whom she had just been married, eith.r from motives of fondness or distnist, reiolved upon sharing with him the perils of the ocean. The sea-sufferings of this constant crca:.:re, and the resignation with which she eniureu them, sufilcientlv manifested the streni^th of her aff;c- tions; for she was obhged to keep be'.pw ali the time, and could afford but very li;tle asihrsr.ce ia reducing the prodigious depot of oread which v. -i had on board. Credulous mariners describe a species of the fair sex (I believe the only one) who appear to much advantage upon the briny wave ; but the nature of our commander's lady not happening to be amphibious, she gave such unequivocal proofs of being out of her proper clement, that my wishes for shore increased upon rae every minute. 3'5S ENGLAND. — FRANCE. During our passage, I could not help contrast ing the habits of the English with the French sailors. The British tar thinks his allowance of salt beef scarcely digestible without a copious libation of ardent spirits, whilst the Gallic mariner is satisfied with a little meagre soup, an immo derate share of bread, and a beverage of water, poor cider, or spiritless wine. At length, after a passage of a day and a night, in which we experienced the vicissitudes of a stiff breeze, and a dead calm, we beheld " That pale, that white-fac'd shore, " Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,. " And coops from other lands her islanders ; " That watcr-walled bulwark, still secure " And confident from foreign purposes." After passing another tedious night on board,. owing to our being becalmed within the Needles,. I stepped upon the sarae landing stone from which I first embarked for a country, where, in- the centre of proscriptions, instability, and deso lation, those arts which are said to flourish only in the regions of repose, have, by their vigour and unrivalled bloom, excited the wonder and FRANCE. 359 admiration of surrounding nations; where peace, by her sudden and cherished re-appearance, is caHIng forth all the virtues frora their hiding places, to aid In effacing the dire effects of a bar barous revolution, and In restoring the raoral and social character to its pristine polish, rank, and estimation. 360 GENERAL REMARKS. 1 HE fact seems at first singular. Two of the greatest nations under heaven, whose shores almost touch, and. If ancient tales be true, were once unsevered, call the native^ of each other foreigners. Jealousy, competition, and consequent war fare, have, for ages, produced an artificial di stance and separation^ much wider and more Im passable than nature ever intended, by the divi sion which she has framed ; hence, whilst the unassisted eye of the islander can, from his own shores, with " unwet feet," behold the natural barrier of his continental neighbour, he knows but little more of his real character and habits, than of those beings who are more distantly re moved from him by many degrees of the great circle. The events which have happened In France for the last eleven years have rendered this sepa- GENERAL REMARKS. 3<>l ration more severe, and, during that long and gloomy interval, have wholly changed the na tional character. Those who once occupied the higher class In the ascending scale of society, and who have survived the revolution without leaving their country, are no longer able to display the taste and munificence which once distinguished them. In the capital, those who formerly were accustomed to have their court-yards nightly filled with carriages, and their staircases lined with lacqueys, are now scarcely able to occupy one third of their noble abodes. They cannot even enjoy the common 'observances of friend ship and hospitality, without pausing, and resort-/ ing to calculation. A new race of beings, called the " nouveaux enriches," whose services have been chiefly auxiliary to the war, at present ab sorb the visible wealth of the nation. Amon(rst thera are many respectable persons. The lower orders of the people have been taught, by restless visionaries, to consider the destinations of Provi dence, which had before, by an imperceptible gradation of social colouring, united the russet brown to the magisterial purple, as usurpations 362 GENERAL REMARKS. over those natural rights which have been im-^ pressed without illustration, and magnified by a mischievous mystery. In the fierce pursuit or these Imaginary iramunitles, which they had been taught to beHeve had been long withheld, they abruptly renounced all deference and de corum, as perilous indications of the fallacy of their indefinable pretensions, and were not a little encouraged by the disastrous desertion of their superiors, who fled at the first alarm. In short, the revolution has, in general, made the higher orders poor and dispirited, and the lower bar barous and insolent ; .whilst a third class has sprurig up, with the silence and suddenness of an exhalation, higher than both, without participat ing in the original character of either, in which the principles of coraputation, and the vanity of wealth, are at awkward variance. Until lately the ancient French and the, mo dern French were antipodes, but they are now converging, under a government, which. In point of security, and even of mildness, has no resem blance, since the first departure frora the ancient establishments^ The French, Hke the libertine GENERAL REMARKS. 363 son, after having plunged in riot and excesses, subdued by wretchedness, are returning to order and civilization. Unhappy people, their tears have almost washed away their offences— they have suffered to their heart's core. Who will not pity them to see their change, and hear their tales of misery ? Yet, strange to relate, in the midst of their sighs and sufferings, they recount, with enthusiasm, the exploits of those very men, whose heroic ambition has trampled upon then" best hopes, and proudest prosperity. Dazzled by the brilliancy of the spreading flame, they forget that their own abode is Involved in its desolation, and augments the gloomy grandeur of the scene. To this cause may, perhaps, be traced that singular union of grief and gaiety, which affords rather an impressive contrast to the more solemn con sistency of English sadness. The terrible experi ment which they have tried, has, throughout, pre sented a ferocious contest for power, which has only served to deteriorate their condition, sap their vigour, and render them too feeble either to continue the contest, or to reach the frontier of their former character. In this condition thev 364 GENERAL REMARKS. have been found by a man who, with the prece dent of history In one hand, and the sabre in the other, has, unstained with the regicidal crime of CromweH, possessed himself of absolute sove reignty; from a conviction that a decisive and irresistible authority can alone reunite a people so vast and distracted, who. In the pursuit of a fatal phantom, have been Inured to change, and long alienated from suDordlnatlon. A military govern ment, like that of France, presents but a barren subject to the consideration of the Inquirer. When the sabre Is changed Into the sceptre, the science of legislation Is short, simple, and decisive. Its energies are neither entangled in abstract dis tinctions, nor much Impeded by the accustomed delays of deliberation. From the magnitude of the present ruling establishment in France, and the judicious dis tribution of its powers and confidence, the phy sical strength can scarcely be said to reside in the governed. A great portion of the population partici pates In the character of the government. The bayonet Is perpetually flashing before the eve. GENERAL REMARKS. 365 The remark may appear a little ludicrous, but In the capital almost every man who is not near sighted Is a soldier, and every soldier of the re public considers himself as a subordinate minister of state. In short, the whole political fabric is a refined system of knight's service. Seven cen turies are rolled back, and from the gloom of time behold the crested spirit of the Norman hero advance, " with beaver up," and nod his sable plumes. In grim approval of the novel, gay, and gaudy feodality. When men become possessed of power, they are seldom disposed to part with it ; and faint indeed is the hope that time wifl ever behold the fugitive fapilly of France restored to the throne of their ancestors. Of this august and unfortunate family, the prince de Conde is the only member of whom the French speak with esteem and approbation. The treasury of the French Is, as may be ex pected, not overflowing, but its resources must speedily become ample. The necessities of the state, or rather the peculations of its former fac tious leaders, addressed themselves immediately to the purses of the people, by a summary process 366 GENERAL REMARKS. completely predatory. Circuitous exaction has been, till lately, long discarded. The present rulers have not yet had sufficient time to digest and perfect a financial system, by which the establishments of the country may be supported by indirect and unoffending taxation. Wisdom and genius must long and ardently labour, before the ruins and rubbish ofthe revolution' can be re moved. Every effort hitherto made to raise the deciduous credit of the repubhc has been mas terly, and forcibly bespeaks the public hope and confidence, In favour of every future measure. The armies of the republic are immense ; they bave hitherto been paid and maintained by the countries which they have subdued ; their exigencies, unless they are'employed, will in fu ture form an embarrassing subject of considera tion in the approaching system of finance. This mighty body of men, who are very moderately paid, are united by the remembrance of their glory, and the proud consideration that they con stitute a powerful part of the government; an impression which every.French soldier cherishes. They also derive some pride, even from their GENERAL REMARKS. 367 discipline : a military delinquent is not subject to ignoble punishment; if he offend, he suffers as a soldier. Imprisonment, or death, alone displaces him from the ranks. He Is not cut down faint ing, and covered with the Ignominious wounds of the dissecting scourge, and sent to languish In the reeking wards of miHtary hospitals. In reviewing the present condition of France, the liberal mind will contemplate many events with pleasure, and will suspend its final judg ment, untH wisdom and genius shall repose frora their labours, and shall proclaim to the people, " Behold the work Is done." It has been observed, that in reviewing the late war, two political rules, which were boldly disregarded by the British ministry, will hereafter be treasured up In the judgments of politicians. Machiavel has asserted, that no country ought to declare war with a nation which, at the time, is in a state of internal commotion ; and that, in the prosecution of a war, the refugees of a belligerent power ought n9t to be confidentially trusted by those who give them shelter. Upon violating the former, those heterogeneous parties, which, if left 368 GENERAL REMARKS. I to themselves, will always embarrass the opera tions of their government, become united by a common cause; and by offending against the latter clause of this cautionary code, a perilous confidence Is placed In the triumph of gratitude, and private pique, over that great prejudice which nature plants and warmly cherishes In the breast of every man In favour of his country. In extenua tion of a departure from the first of these political maxims it may be urged, that the French excited the war, in which they displayed the extraordi nary spectacle of a nation sending forth mighty armies successfully to combat her enemies, assail ing her from every quarter, whilst she was writh ing ivithin with all the agonies of revolutionary convulsion. Rather less can be said in paHIatlon of the fatal confidence which was placed by the English government In sorae of the French emi grants. I have mentioned these unhappy people in the aggregate, with the respect which I think they deserve. Not to betray, in return for pro tection, was all that could in fairness, and with safety, be expected from thera ; it was hazarding too much to put swords In their hands, and send GENERAL REMARKS. 369 them to their own shores to plunge them In the breasts of their own countrymen : in such an en terprise " The native hue of resolution " Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought." The brave have not frequently wept over such a victim as Sombrleul. Whether the experiment of repelHng those machinations which warred against all established order, and all sanctioned usage, by a novel and unnatural opposition, was founded in wisdom, I leave to others more competent to such a deci sion to determine. If the late minister* is charge able with a prolongation of the war, if he Is re sponsible for having misplaced his confidence, and if brave men have perished by the fatal de lusion, he will find sorae, if not araple consola tion in reflecting, that by his vigilance and vigour he has saved his country frora the miseries of a revolutionary phrensy, which has rendered even our enemies the objects of our sympathy and compassion. '" The late illustrious William Pitr 2 B 370 GENERAL REMARKS. Such is the narrowness of our nature, that we seldom feel sufficiently grateful for being pre served from evil arrested in its progress. The calamity must touch before its powers and mag nitude can be estimated. The flames of the neighbouring pile must stop at our very doors before our gratitude becomes animated with its highest energies. If Providence were to unfold to us all the horrors which we have escaped; if all the blood which would have followed the assassin's dagger were to roll in reeking streams before us ; if the full display of Irreligion, mas sacre, confiscation, iraprisonment, and famine,, which would have attended a revolutionary triumph in these realms, were to be unbarred to our view, how should we recoil frora the gh a stly- spectacle ! With what emotions of ad miration and esteem should we bend before the mention of the imraortal name of Pitt, whose illumined mind and dignified resolution protected us from such fell perdition, and confined the ravages of the direful storm within Its own barrier. GENERAL REM AR KS. 371 The dazzling and perilous claims of the Rights of Man In the abstract, have had a long and ample discussion before the sanguinary tribunals of another country ; and the loud decree of an indignant and insulted world has pronounced their eternal doom. Other contests may arise ; but the powers of a prophet are not necessary to assert, that such rights will forra no part of their provocation. In France I was repeatedly asked ray opinion of the probable stability of the peace. The ques tion was always addressed In this rather curious shape : " Thank God, we have peace ! Will your " country let us enjoy it f " — My answer was, " You may be assured of it ; for it will not cease " to be prepared for war." Alas 1 the restless spirit of ambition seldom long deHghts in repose. The peaceful virtues, under whose influence nations flourish and mankind re joice, possess no lasting captivations for the hero. The draught of conquest maddens bis brain, and excites an insatiable thirst for fresh achieve ments—He 2 B 0 372 GENERAL REMARKS. " Looks into the clouds, scorning the base degrees " By which he did ascend" -- May that extraordinary being in whose hands the fate of millions Is deposited, reverse the gloomy picture, and restore to a country long wasted by revolutions and warfare, and languish ing in the midst of the monuments of her glory, the benign blessings of enduring tranquillity. But if this hope prove fruitless. If all the countries of continental Europe are destined to be compressed into one empire, if their devoted princes are doomed to adorn the triumphs of the chief of that mighty republic, which now towers above the surrounding nations of the earth, like the pyramid of the desert, what have we to fear even though the ocean which divides us should become the soldier's element } When an enlightened Frenchman is asked what he thinks of his government, his answer is, " We want repose." For this alone, a stranger to the recent occurrences of the world would think he had toiled, just as valetudinarians take exercise for the purpose of securing sleep. Even GENERAL REMARKS. 3^3 those who have profited of eleven years of deso lation, are ready to acknowledge that war is not pastime, and that a familiarity with Its horrors does not lessen them. The soldier, drooping un der the weight of booty, pants for the refreshing shades of his native viHage, and for the hour which Is to restore him to his alienated family. I am satisfied that both In France and Eng land one desire pervades all classes of people, that two nations so brave, and so worthy of reciprocal esteem, may at last grow wise and virtuous enough to abstain from those ebullitions of furious hos tility which have stained so many centuries with blood. Peace is the gern with which Europe has em belHshed her fair but palpitating bosom ; and may disappointment and dishonour be the lot of that ambitious and impolitic being who endea vours or who wishes to pluck it frora her ! FINIS. DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDEH FOR PLACING THE PLATES, Place Torr Abbey facing page 1 Southampton 5 Light-house at Havre 39 Paris Diligence 44 Woman of Caux 48 Rouen 64 Ruins in the Petit Trianon 26l Bagatelle in the Bois de Boulogne... 297 Museum of French Monuments 318 Malmaison.-. 336 Caen 33S Cherbours 353 Frinled by S. Hamilton, Weyhridge, Surrey, 3 9002 00884 9334