A ROUGH SKETCH OF MODERN PARIS.
G. WOODFALL, Printer, Paternoster row.
A
ROUGH SKETCH
OF
MODERN PARIS;
OR,
LETTERS
ON
SOCIETY, MANNERS, PUBLIC CURIOSITIES, AND AMUSEMENTS,
IN THAT CAPITAL,
WRITTEN DURING THE LAST TWO MONTHS OF 1801 AND THE FIRST
FIVE OF 1802.
_BY J. G. LEMAISTRE, ESQ._
_SECOND EDITION._
J’ai voulu voir Paris; les fastes de l’histoire
Célébrant ses plaisirs, et consacrent sa gloire.
VOLTAIRE.
Nous avons vu Trajan, Titus et Marc Aurele,
Quitter le beau séjour de la gloire immortelle,
Pour venir en secret s’amuser à Paris.
Quelque bien qu’on puisse être, on veut changer de place;
C’est pourquoi les anglois sortent de leur pays.
L’esprit est inquiet, et de tout il se lasse;
Souvent un bien heureux s’ennuie en Paradis.
IDEM.
LONDON.
PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, IN ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD;
1803.
PREFACE.
In june, 1801, while the war between England and France still continued,
I obtained his majesty’s license to visit the latter country, in order
to ascertain my claims to a legacy left me at Paris. A french passport
was likewise necessary; and such were the difficulties which occurred,
that, notwithstanding repeated applications to M. Otto on the subject,
the instrument in question was not yet arrived, when, on the first of
October, an extraordinary gazette announced the joyful intelligence
of the signature of preliminary articles of peace. The jealousy of
the french government ceased with the war; and, three days after its
termination, I received the long expected passport.
Being one of the first englishmen who arrived in France, after a war
big with such unparallelled events, I determined to keep a journal of
my proceedings. The object which, at first, induced me to do so, was
simply to gratify the curiosity of an intimate friend, who had charged
me, on leaving England, to forward to him, by every opportunity, detailed
accounts pf modern France. Of my correspondence, thus begun, I took
regular copies; and, on perusing the materials which I had been able to
collect, it afterwards occurred to me, that some of these letters might
become not totally uninteresting to the public, if formed into a less
objectionable shape, and freed from the many little occurrences, which
they originally contained, and which only related personally either to
my friend or myself. From this collection I have accordingly culled
the following letters. I offer them to my readers, as conveying not a
studied view of society and manners, but a rough landscape, drawn by the
untutored hand of an inexperienced artist. If the sketch should happen to
please, the merit will be less in the execution than in the subject; if
it fail, the fault will be in the pencil, and not in the accuracy of the
drawer.
To divest myself, as much as possible, from every prejudice, has been a
duty which I have strictly endeavoured to fulfil; yet I fear, such is
the effect of early habit, that many marks will still be discovered of
national predilection. I beg leave, as a check against faults of this
kind, which I may have involuntarily committed, to request my reader to
remember, that the observations now laid before him, are those of a man
accustomed to english opinions, english society, and english manners. In
judging of another country, a foreigner cannot help making a comparison
between what he has known at home add what he sees abroad. In doing so,
the partiality, which he naturally entertains for his own customs, may
lead him to condemn, as faults, what may be simply deviations from the
former. That such is the general bias of the human mind, I am fully
aware, and I cannot flatter myself that mine has escaped it. This
consideration must plead my excuse with the french, if I should sometimes
appear severe; and the same ought to prevent my countrymen from placing
too implicit a confidence in my judgments, where it may be my misfortune
to condemn. My hand has faithfully drawn what my eye beheld; but the
sight may be jaundiced, and, in that case the picture will be incorrect.
To conclude—The intention of this work being simply to describe the
internal situation of the french capital, all religious and political
discussions will be avoided. The causes, events, and consequences of
a revolution, which has no parallel in history, I leave to abler and
more experienced writers. To point out to strangers the objects most
interesting at Paris, to convey some previous information to those who
intend going thither, and to lay before such as are prevented, by their
other occupations, from undertaking the journey, an account of the
pleasures, festivals, buildings, and mode of living in that metropolis,
is the task I have undertaken, a task which, however comparatively
humble, is neither useless nor unimportant. Had it fallen into other
hands, the public would feel the truth of this remark. As it is, I fear
they will easily discover, that the subject deserved an abler pen.
THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE
_TO THE SECOND EDITION_.
The first edition of this work appeared anonymously. Its rapid sale and
the favourable manner in which “The Rough Sketch,” has been received
induce the Author, as a mark of respect and gratitude to an indulgent
Public, to affix, his name to this second impression. In doing so, he
begs leave to apologize for the typographical errors found in the first
edition, and which he can only correct in that which is now issued, by
means of an errata. These faults may, perhaps, be pardoned, when it is
known that the Author was in the most distant part of Italy at the time
of the first publication, and that most of the sheets which compose the
present impression, were struck off previously to his return.
In reading the following pages the Public will also have the goodness to
remember the period at which they were written. When the Author speaks
of Bonaparte, he speaks of him in other days. In May, 1802, when these
letters were concluded, the First Consul was the elected first magistrate
of France, the professed friend of England, and the acknowledged
pacificator of Europe. He had not at that time overturned the form of
government which he had solemnly sworn to maintain, by assuming for life
the reins of power. He had not then violated the laws of nations and the
rights of a free, virtuous, and independent people by the subjugation of
Switzerland. He had not then insulted his Majesty and the British nation
in the person of our ambassador. He had not yet dared to ask for changes
in the most valuable and purest parts of our excellent constitution, nor
had he sunk the dignity of his character by a conversation which at once
betrayed his vanity, rashness, and unbounded ambition. In one word, the
laurels of Marengo were yet unfaded. He was then a great man. Without
enquiring what he now is, one may be permitted to apply to him what
Virgil said of the Trojan hero after his defeat:
⸺Heu quantum mutatus ab illo
Hectore, qui redit exuvias indutus Achillis!
_Upper Seymour Street, Sept. 21, 1803._
_CONTENTS._
LETTER I.
Reflections on landing at Calais.—Custom house
officers, municipality, commissaires, Dessein’s,
theatre.—Montreuil.—L’hôtel d’Angleterre at
Amiens.—Chantilly.—State of the roads.—Difficulty of getting
lodgings at Paris.—M. Peregaux. p. 1.
LETTER II.
The palace and gardens of the Thuilleries.—The
Louvre.—The _musée central des arts_, or picture
gallery.—_Maria Cosway._—Gallery of antiquities.—Apollo
Belvidere.—Laocoon.—List of pictures. p. 10.
LETTER III.
The _fête_ of the 18th of brumaire in honour of the
preliminaries, and of the anniversary of the consular
government.—Apathy of the people.—Fireworks.—Accident which
happened to an english gentleman.—_Postscript._—The death of
the gentleman last named. p. 40.
LETTER IV.
State of society at Paris.—The three sets, _l’ancienne
noblesse_, the governmental class, and _les parvenus ou
nouveaux riches_.—Description of a house belonging to one of
the latter. p. 53.
LETTER V.
Opening of the legislative body.—Election of the
president.—Lord Cornwallis.—Reflections of the people in the
gallery. p. 63.
LETTER VI.
The abbé Sicard, and the institution in behalf of the deaf and
dumb.—His favourite pupil, Massieu.—Examination of a young
woman, who had become deaf at six years old.—Reflections on
the establishment. p. 69.
LETTER VII.
A _thé_ or evening party.—French remarks on Shakspeare and Mr.
Fox.—Dullness and pedantry of parisian society. p. 74.
LETTER VIII.
Bonaparte.—The monthly review or parade in the court of the
Thuilleries. p. 81.
LETTER IX.
The tribunate.—Speech of _Portalis_ on presenting the _code
civil_ in the corps législatif.—Debate in the tribunate on the
same subject. p. 87.
LETTER X.
_Bal des étrangers_, (a public subscription ball).—Thinness of
the ladies’ dresses. p. 92.
LETTER XI.
New year’s day.—The Palais royal. p. 98.
LETTER XII.
_L’institution des travaux des aveugles_, or establishment
for the support and employment of the blind.—Their different
occupations.—The plate glass manufactory.—Description of
another meeting at the hospital of the deaf and dumb.—Massieu
taught _galvanism_ and stenography. p. 103.
LETTER XIII.
The young savage, or wild boy of Aveyron.—His history.—The
state in which he was found, and the means used to restore him
to the use of his senses.—The success with which these efforts
have been attended. p. 109.
LETTER XIV.
Detailed account of all the theatres or _spectacles_. p. 116.
LETTER XV.
The play of _Henry_ IV, read by le Texier. p. 133.
LETTER XVI.
Party at a _fournisseur’s_.—Ball at a _ci-devant_ noble’s. p. 137.
LETTER XVII.
A play acted for the first time, called “Edouard en Ecosse,”
the hero of which was the english pretender, full of royalist
sentiments, performed twice, and highly applauded; “God save
the King,” played on the French stage; plot of the play, which
was forbidden on the third day. p. 146.
LETTER XVIII.
The _carnival_.—Masks in all the streets.—Account of the
different characters, processions, &c.—Masqued ball at the
opera house. p. 152.
LETTER XIX.
Bonaparte’s audience.—His address to the english gentlemen
presented to him.—First appearance, this season, of
_Vestris_.—Madame de St—l’s concert. p. 158.
LETTER XX.
The antichamber of the _Musée Central_, now filled with
an additional collection of fine pictures.—Account of the
wonderful recovery of some chefs-d’œuvre.—List of pictures
in this room. p. 166.
LETTER XXI.
_Bois de Boulogne._—Account of that promenade.—Order
of the police against english footmen wearing laced
cocked hats.—Cannon fired in honour of the definitive
treaty.—Illuminations in the evening.—Little effect
produced at Paris by the peace. p. 175.
LETTER XXII.
The palais du _Luxembourg_.—_Théâtre d’Odéon._—The pantheon
or St. Généviève.—Tombs of Rousseau and Voltaire. p. 181.
LETTER XXIII.
_Concordat_ with the Pope ratified by the legislative body
after an eloquent speech by _Lucien Bonaparte_.—Madame
Bonaparte’s first drawing room.—Appearance of Dehayes at the
opera, after a long absence. p. 188.
LETTER XXIV.
Versailles.—St. Cloud.—Sèvre.—Petit Trianon.—Specimen
of an extravagant bill.—Curious trial.—St.
Germain.—Malmaison.—Waterworks of Marly. p. 192.
LETTER XXV.
_Long Champ_, account of that annual promenade, date of its
origin, and of the great preparations made this year for
attending it.—The bustle and gayety which it produced at
Paris. p. 205.
LETTER XXVI.
_Te Deum_ sung at _Notre Dame_, in honour of the peace and the
reestablishment of religion.—Military insolence.—Account of the
ceremony.—Illuminations in the evening.—Indifference of the
people. p. 213.
LETTER XXVII.
_Palais de Justice._—Account of the different tribunals or
courts of law. p. 222.
LETTER XXVIII.
The gardens and walks of Paris. p. 227.
LETTER XXIX.
The manufactory of _Gobelins_, the observatory, _les Enfans
trouvés_, _Champ de Mars_, les _Invalides_, and the temple of
Mars, containing the colours taken from different nations,
and the tomb of _Turenne_.—_Le Musée des Monumens françois_,
or collection of monuments.—List of the most esteemed of
these.—Note to this letter contains the account of a dinner at
the first consul’s. p. 235.
LETTER XXX.
General account of literary establishments at Paris.—National
library.—Manuscripts.—Memoirs of his own times, by Lewis
XIV.—_Fac simile_ of a love letter of Henry IV.—Cabinet
of medals.—Cabinet of engravings, &c.—Library of the
Pantheon.—Mazarine library.—Library of the Institute. Libraries
of the senate, the legislative body, and tribunate.—The
_Lycées_, now called _les Athénées_.—Admirable lectures
given at one of them.—Professors _Fourcroy_, _Cuvier_, and
_la Harpe_.—L’Institute national.—_Jardin national des
Plantes._—Collection of birds, plants, fossils, and insects,
in the house attached to the _Jardin des Plantes_.—Cabinet
de l’École des Mines, _à l’Hôtel des Monnoies_.—Great
opportunities afforded at Paris of cultivating science and
literature in all their various branches. p. 249.
LETTER XXXI.
Calculation and estimate of expenses at Paris.—List of hôtels,
traiteurs, &c. p. 266.
LETTER XXXII.
General view of Paris, principally taken as compared with
London. p. 282.
A ROUGH SKETCH OF MODERN PARIS.
LETTER I.
Reflections on landing at Calais.—Custom house
officers, municipality, commissaires, Dessein’s,
theatre.—Montreuil.—L’hôtel d’Angleterre at
Amiens.—Chantilly.—State of the roads.—Difficulty of getting
lodgings at Paris.—M. Peregaux.
Paris, october the 30th, 1801 (4 brumaire, an 10.)
MY DEAR SIR,
At length, arrived in this celebrated city, I execute my promise in
commencing a correspondence, which, on my part, shall in future be
strictly confined to the curiosities of the place. As I have been only
three hours at Paris, I shall in this first letter speak of nothing but
my journey. On the 26th of october, I left the York house, at Dover, (of
which Payne is still the civil landlord); and embarking at one o’clock on
board a neutral vessel, which I was compelled to hire, no english packet
boat being yet allowed to enter the ports of France, found myself, after
a safe and pleasant passage, at four, on the continent. Though I have
before crossed the Channel, and in as rapid a manner, I was forcibly
struck by the wonderful and almost magical change of situation which this
short voyage had effected. Rising at my usual hour, I had breakfasted,
and walked about the streets of Dover, surrounded by english faces and
english customs. The sun had not yet set, and I was now in a foreign
country, and that country so lately the enemy of mine, and the seat of
such extraordinary and many coloured events. I had changed a monarchical
for a republican government. I saw a different people, different dresses,
and different countenances, and I was subject to different laws, and
different customs.
As soon as the vessel entered the port of Calais, two custom house
officers came on board, in a military uniform (for every _fonctionnaire
public_ has here a regimental dress); and, after taking the names of the
passengers, one of them retired, to make his report at the municipality,
while the other stayed to prevent our landing, till the return of his
companion. In the mean time, the _jetée_, or pier, was crowded with
spectators, the greater part of whom were military men, of different
ranks and different descriptions. They seemed highly amused in staring
at the dresses of the ladies, and in examining the body of my carriage,
which was hung on the deck of the ship; while we were equally entertained
with the great _moustaches_ of the grenadiers, the wooden shoes of the
peasants, and the close caps of the _grisettes_.
At length, _monsieur de la Douaine_ returned. We were permitted to touch
the territory of the republic; and, conducted by a guard of Bourgeois
(who, in their dress, rather resembled the ragged regiment of Terence,
than the renowned warriors of France), we proceeded to the custom house,
from the custom house to the _municipality_, and from the _municipality_
to the _commissaire’s_.
After undergoing examinations at each of these offices, delivering
our passports, and giving up our pocket books and letters (which were
returned the following day), we were at last permitted to retire to our
inn, the tattered guard, which accompanied us from the ship, having been
previously dismissed. At six o’clock, I sat down to an excellent dinner,
at the celebrated hotel, formerly kept by Dessein, who is now succeeded
by his nephew, Quillacq, a very respectable man, who met me at landing,
and, with the utmost civility and attention, took charge of my carriage,
baggage, &c. I wished to have set out the following morning for Paris,
but I was informed that this was impossible, as, though I brought with me
a passport from M. Talleyrand, it was necessary to have this exchanged
for one of the mayor of Calais, which latter could not be delivered till
late the following day. I accordingly passed tuesday in this town,
which gave me an opportunity of visiting the theatre, which is still
at Dessein’s. To the best of my recollection, there is no alteration
in the building since the war; and, from the darkness of the house, I
am inclined to think, that even the painting has not been changed. The
actors are not very good, yet better than the generality of our country
performers in England. The house was full, and the company well dressed.
In short, this amusement may be considered as a very pleasant resource
for travellers detained at Calais, either by contrary winds, or by delays
in the delivery of passports.
On wednesday morning, Mrs. ⸺ and myself proceeded with post horses.
We found the roads very bad, particularly near Boulogne; and, if our
conveyance had not been particularly easy, we should have suffered
very severely from the fatigues of the journey. It is necessary to
add, that numerous workmen were employed in every part of the roads in
repairing and amending them. Probably, therefore, before next summer,
the communication between the two principal cities of Europe will be
restored to its former excellence. At present, the roads have rather
the appearance of leading to some deserted village, than to the capital
of _la grande nation_. The post horses are active and well-fed, their
drivers civil, and the expense moderate[1].
Though we left Calais at break of day, and did not stop either to
breakfast or to dine, we did not reach Montreuil, where we proposed
sleeping the first night, till sunset. Here we found excellent
accommodations, at the inn celebrated by Sterne. The house has, indeed,
nothing to recommend it, in point of outward show; and, in this respect,
differs entirely from the generality of french hotels: but if comfortable
beds, superiorly good cooking, and the smiling attention of two very
pretty girls, who act as waiters, are any attractions, I can safely point
out this inn, as one at which my countrymen will do right to stop.
From Montreuil we proceeded the next day, through a fine country and
bad roads, to Amiens. The cultivation seemed good, and in the villages
through which we passed, the peasants were well clad. In the towns,
the number of beggars was as great as formerly. At every post, we were
surrounded with the old, the blind, and the lame; some of whom, not
satisfied with vociferating their complaints, actually climbed up the
springs of the carriage, and put their faces within the windows, more
effectually to draw our notice.
The waiters, post boys, and landlords, were every where remarkably
civil, and all expressed their joy at seeing once again amongst them
“_les milords Anglais_,” by which title they have not forgotten to call,
and to tax accordingly, all english travellers. The people appear to
me not only civil, but respectful, and infinitely more so, than before
the revolution. The reason is plain, the old _noblesse_ treated their
inferiors with a degree of familiarity, which produced in the latter
a mode of speaking, that, to an english ear, seemed highly offensive,
but which the french permitted, because they could check it at their
pleasure. The loss of their rank has now compelled the higher classes to
command respect by a distance of manner, which has of course produced a
similar conduct in the persons beneath them.
At Amiens, we drove to “l’hôtel d’Angleterre,” where we were
magnificently and miserably lodged. Fine rooms, superbly furnished;
windows and doors, which would neither keep out the rain nor wind; bad
fires, and a worse supper, formed the complete picture of a french inn,
and the colouring of extravagant charges was not omitted.
Starved with cold and hunger we left Amiens by break of day, on friday
morning; and after travelling through a country, the beauty of which
increased every step with the increasing badness of the roads, we at
length reached Chantilly, not a little pleased at having escaped the
dangers of a broken neck. At the post office, which is a new inn, built
since the revolution, directly fronting the park of the _ci-devant
château_, we found good beds, and a comfortable supper, prepared by the
kind attention of some english friends, who had preceded us on the road.
The following morning (the 30th), we visited the ruins of this once
magnificent spot. If we had had often reason, during our journey, to
deplore the destructive effects of that mistaken spirit, of pretended
philosophy, and pretended patriotism, which had levelled with the ground
the churches and country seats, the ruins of which reminded us, in every
village, of the excesses committed during the revolution; we made these
reflections with double force, and double regret, in viewing what was
once the palace of Chantilly. The principal building is entirely pulled
down; but _le petit château_, and the superb edifice of the stable, still
remain. This latter was saved by the orders of the present government,
who forbade its being sold; and the mistress of the inn, with tears in
her eyes, acquainted me, that had Bonaparte been at the head of public
affairs six months sooner, the palace also would have been rescued from
destruction. That extraordinary man visited Chantilly after the sale, but
before the demolition of the building. He heard that the purchaser had
ordered it to be pulled down—he expressed his regret; but, at that time,
he had no means of preventing what he sincerely deplored.
The stables, though unhurt, are neglected and dirty. They contain, at
present, a regiment of cavalry. The woods have also been greatly thinned;
the garden no longer exists; and, altogether, Chantilly presents rather
the picture of decayed magnificence, than that of actual beauty.
On leaving this once celebrated place, we found a fine paved road all
the way to Paris. The regular avenue of hills, the rich country, the
vineyards, the villas, and the carriages of all descriptions which we
met, announced an approach to the capital, at the gates of which we
arrived at two o’clock.
Here, and at Boulogne, we were asked very civilly for our passports,
which were instantly returned us. These were the only interruptions or
examinations which we experienced, during the whole of our journey.
Carriages are not stopped, as formerly, at every town, to be searched
for contraband goods, but, _en revanchè_, turnpikes are numerous and
expensive. The inns are nearly as dear as those of England; and it is now
not less necessary, than under the _ancien régime_, to make a previous
bargain, before the horses are taken from the carriage. If this is not
done, impositions and disputes are sure to occur.
On arriving at Paris, I drove to several hotels, before I could get
accommodated at all. I am now wretchedly lodged, and fear, from what I
have already seen and heard, that I must waste a considerable portion
of valuable time, before I shall obtain such apartments as I wish.
Good rooms are very scarce, many of the _hôtels garnis_ having been
unfurnished during the revolution, and those which remain being nearly
filled with foreigners, who, since the peace, have flocked hither in
great numbers, from every nation of the world.
Persons, intending to visit Paris, ought to write some days before hand
to their correspondents, if they desire to be comfortably lodged on their
arrival.
Adieu, my friend. I have now given you a full account of my journey. I
say nothing of Paris, or its inhabitants, the only person I have yet seen
being M. Peregaux, my banker. His new dignity of _senateur_ has made no
alteration in his conduct. He is as civil, and as obliging as ever.
As soon as I have seen any thing worth communicating, I shall write
again. In the mean time, I take my leave. And
Am, &c.
LETTER II.
The palace and gardens of the Thuilleries.—The
Louvre.—The _musée central des arts_, or picture
gallery.—_Maria Cosway._—Gallery of antiquities.—Apollo
Belvidere.—Laocoon.—List of pictures.
Paris, november the 6th, 1801 (15 brumaire, an 10.)
MY DEAR SIR,
Having in my last letter given the details of my journey, I shall
proceed to speak in this of what I have already seen at Paris. The first
objects of curiosity to which my steps were directed, were of course the
Thuilleries and the Louvre. Of the garden of the former it is difficult
to say any thing at this unfavourable season of the year. It appears,
however, to have undergone but little alteration, and to have received
the additional ornament of several statues, which are scattered about
the grounds. The château or palace of the Thuilleries is also unchanged
in that part of it which faces the garden, but the appearance of the
great front, (I mean that towards the Carousel,) is much improved, and
has become strikingly magnificent. It promises to be still more so,
when the whole of the projected amendments are completed. When I last
visited Paris, a number of small houses surrounded the palace, and seemed
to conceal it from the profane eye of the vulgar. The greater part of
these houses are already pulled down, and the gallery of the Louvre, no
longer kept from view, forms a magnificent side to the spacious court by
which the palace is approached, and in which the first consul reviews
his troops, on the 15th of every month. This court is separated from
the street, by a beautiful iron railing, the four gates of which are
ornamented with the celebrated horses taken from Venice, and with the
birds (I believe cocks) which, in imitation of the roman eagles, the
french republic has adopted as her distinguishing symbol. The opening is
already extended as far as _la rue St. Nicaise_. Houses are daily pulled
down, and I understand it is the intention of the present government to
clear away all the remaining obstacles, which separate the palace of
the Louvre from that of the Thuilleries. When this great plan is fully
executed, the residence of the first consul will greatly exceed in
magnificence all the palaces of Europe.
In the Louvre is situated the museum or _musée central des arts_. This
superb collection, without exception the finest in the world, occupies a
room equally unrivalled, covering a space at least equal to a quarter of
an english mile. The antichamber[2] to this vast gallery is at present
filled with a modern exhibition of paintings, which, indifferent in
themselves, become still more contemptible by an involuntary, though
perhaps unfair, comparison, which one is led to make between the artists
of our times, and those of our ancestors. An excellent likeness in full
length of madame Bonaparte, and a beautiful miniature of a _father and a
son_, by _Isabey_, were the only objects which attracted my attention.
My impatience soon carried me forward. At length I found myself in the
magnificent room, which I have before mentioned, the walls of which
are covered as far as the eye can reach with the sublimest efforts
of human art. Where the mind has long been promised a pleasure, when
fancy has dressed it in all her choicest colours, how seldom does the
reality approach the phantom of heated imagination! For once I was not
disappointed. I expected it is true, a high gratification. I had formed
to myself an exalted idea of the objects, which I was about to visit,
yet the satisfaction I felt exceeded, far exceeded, what I supposed it
possible for the power of sight to afford; nor did I believe that the
hand of man was capable of attaining that degree of perfection, which
I now beheld. For some time I was lost in wonder, I knew not where to
fix my enraptured eye. A catalogue which was offered me, by one of the
attendants, and which as I afterwards found, is drawn up with great
clearness and precision, roused me from this pleasing reverie, and gave
some order to the train of my thoughts. The arrangement of the collection
is admirable.
After viewing the masterpieces of la Sueur, le Brun, Nicolas Poussin,
and the three Van Loos, I supposed I had already seen the utmost efforts
of the art, and even, under this supposition, was ready to allow that my
highest ideas of the power of painting fell short of what these specimens
presented. Think of my surprise, when, looking on my catalogue, I found
that I had not yet passed the limits of the french school. Astonished and
delighted I went on. The flemish, dutch, and german masters occupy the
second division. Among them I beheld the exquisite works of Van Dyck, of
Hans Holbein, of Paul Potter, of Rembrandt, of Teniers, and of Rubens.
Sublime as were the first, objects that had claimed my admiration, even
they were exceeded by the latter. Nor had I yet seen the acme of the art.
Charmed with the fancy and execution of all the flemish painters, I was
particularly pleased with the beautiful pasturage, by Paul Potter, every
object of which seems alive on the canvass.
A few steps would bring me in view of the wonders of Italy, to see which
so many of my countrymen had crossed the Alps; yet so enraptured was I
with the objects already before me, that it required all the importunity
of my companions, to persuade me to proceed. I was soon rewarded for
this temporary sacrifice, and in contemplating the almost supernatural
works of Corregio, of Caravaggio, of the Carracci, of Dominichino, of
Guido, of Leonardo da Vinci, of Paul Veronese, of Raphael and of Titian.
I discovered, that what I had seen before were only so many links in the
great chain of perfection, which was now complete. If among those models
of the art, you wish me to name some particular picture, I should give
the preference to the communion of St. Jerome, by Dominichino, which in
expression, colouring, feeling, and variety, seems to me to possess every
beauty united.
Before I quit a subject so interesting in every respect, I ought to
mention, that this assemblage of the _chefs-d’œuvres_ of former times,
begins already to hold out the promise of improving the taste of modern
painters. I saw artists of both sexes, occupied in taking copies of the
most celebrated subjects; and as curiosity led me to observe some of
these unfinished attempts, I discovered, with infinite pleasure, that the
figures, and even the countenances of the most striking objects, were in
several instances successfully imitated. It is indeed, almost impossible,
that the study of such unrivalled works should be pursued, without
considerable benefit to the individual, and improvement to the art. To me
it appears highly probable, that, assisted by the great facilities and
advantages which this gallery affords, painting will, in the course of
twenty years, recover all its former splendour.
An English lady[3], who has long very deservedly enjoyed a considerable
portion of public praise, is now employed in copying the principal
pictures in the museum; and from her designs, prints are to be published,
the proposals for which are already circulated at Paris. If she should
execute her plan as well as one has reason to expect from her known
talents, the collection will become highly valuable and interesting, not
only to those who have seen the originals, but likewise to such as have
not had that advantage.
The _musée_, like every other establishment of the kind in this town, is
conducted on principles of liberality, truly honourable to the government
and the nation. The gallery is open to foreigners and artists, every day
of the year; but to the public, only once or twice in each week. No fee
or recompense is either required, expected, or received by any of the
attendants; and the exquisite pleasure of contemplating these sublime
pictures, for which indeed it would be difficult to fix any adequate
price, is enjoyed gratuitously[4].
The gallery of antiquities, containing statues, busts, and
basso-relievoes, is immediately under the gallery of pictures. It is
divided into _la salle des saisons_, _la salle des hommes illustres_, _la
salle des Romains_, _la salle de Laocoon_, _la salle de l’Apollon_, et
_la salle des Muses_.
Were I to attempt an account of all these statues, my letter would
never end. I shall therefore only mention those by which the rest,
however excellent, are rendered petty, and contemptible, in comparison
with them. I mean the _Apollo Belvidere_, and the _Laocoon_[5]. These
masterpieces of human ingenuity are also so well known, and have been so
well described, that I shall confine my remarks to their present state
and present situation. The _Apollo_ seems to have received no injury from
the journey, and has as just claims as ever to the preeminence which,
for so many centuries, has been allowed it. Did I not fear to appear
presumptuous in hinting at any defect in a statue, esteemed so perfect, I
should say, that the ancles were rather too thick, in proportion to the
rest of the leg, and to the general lightness of the figure. I should
have concealed my criticism, if a friend, on whose judgment and knowledge
I can rely, had not assured me, that the objection was not novel, and
that many connoisseurs have suspected that the legs are modern.
Not having had the happiness of seeing this wonderful statue in Italy, I
cannot draw a comparison between the spot where it formerly stood, and
that which it at present occupies. I certainly think, that it is not now
seen to the greatest advantage. The room is not either high or large
enough for the purpose, and too many statues are crowded together.—The
Apollo Belvidere stands between the _Venus d’Arles_ and another female
figure, within a railed space of no great dimensions. The catalogue gives
the following history:
“No. 145. APOLLON PYTHIEN,
DIT APOLLON DU BELVIDERE.
(After describing the statue and the subject).
“Cette statue la plus sublime de celles que le tems nous ait
conservées, a été trouvée, vers la fin du quinzième siècle,
à _Capo d’Anzo_, à douze lieues de Rome, sur le rivage de la
mer, dans les ruines de l’antique Antium, cité célébré et par
son temple de la Fortune, et par les maisons de plaisance, que
les empereurs y avaient élevées à l’envi, et embellies de plus
rares chefs-d’œuvres de l’art. Julius II, n’étant encore que
cardinal, fit l’acquisition de cette statue, et la fit placer
d’abord dans le palais qu’il habitait près l’église de Santi
Apostoli. Mais bientôt après étant parvenu au pontificat, il
la fit transporter au _Belvidere_ du Vatican, où depuis trois
siècles elle faisait l’admiration de l’univers, lorsqu’un
héros, guidé par la victoire est venu l’en tirer, pour la
conduire et la fixer à jamais sur les rives de la Seine....
“On ignore entierement le nom de l’auteur de cet inimitable
chef-d’œuvre. L’avant-bras droit et la main gauche qui
manquaient out été restaurés par Giovanni Angelo da Montorsoli,
sculpteur élève de Michael Ange.”
_TRANSLATION._
“THE PYTHIAN APOLLO.
CALLED
“THE APOLLO BELVIDERE.
“This statue, the most sublime of those which time has
preserved, was found, towards the conclusion of the fifteenth
century, at _Capo d’Anzo_, twelve leagues from Rome, on the sea
shore, near the ruins of the ancient Antium, a city no less
celebrated for its temple of Fortune, than for the elegant
seats, which the different emperors, emulous of each other,
had built there, and ornamented with all the rarest works of
art. Julius II, while yet but a cardinal, bought this statue,
and placed it first in the palace where he resided, near the
church of the Holy Apostles. When he became sovereign pontiff,
he ordered it to be conveyed to the Belvidere of the Vatican,
where for three centuries it excited the admiration of the
universe. A hero, guided by victory, drew it from the Vatican;
and, transporting it to the banks of the Seine, has fixed it
there for ever....
“The name of the artist, who made this inimitable chef-d’œuvre,
is unknown. The right arm, and the left hand, which were
wanting, were restored by the sculptor, _Giovanni Angelo da
Montorsoli_, pupil of Michael Angelo.”
I hope, my friend, you admire the modesty with which it is declared,
that the Apollo is for ever fixed on the banks of the Seine!—After the
singular fate which this statue has experienced, it required all that
happy confidence, with which the french determine the most difficult
questions in their own favour, to make so bold an assertion. The Apollo
lay two thousand years under the ruins of Antium, and yet preserved its
beauty. It was drawn thence, placed in the Vatican, and after receiving
there, for three centuries, the applauses of mankind, is carried over
the Alps, and seen at Paris in all its original symmetry. If it be the
destiny of this matchless figure to follow the tide of fortune, and to
change its residence with the changes of empire, and the casualties of
human affairs, who shall decide where it may next be found? If Julius
II, when he placed the Apollo in the Vatican, had been told, that, three
hundred years afterward, a french warrior would attach it to his car of
victory, in entering the city of Paris, would even the pope himself have
had faith enough to believe such a prophecy? After this, no conjecture
becomes improbable. Who knows, that this celebrated statue may not, some
centuries hence, be discovered on the frozen plains of Siberia, or in
the burning sands of Egypt?
The subject of the Laocoon is so pathetic, and the execution so
admirable, that the group which it presents, is, as the catalogue well
observes, a specimen, at once, of composition, art, and feeling. The
following is the historical account of this statue:
“Il a été trouvé en 1506, sous le pontificat de Julius II, à
Rome sur le mont Esquilin, dans les ruines du palais de Titus,
contigu à ses thermes. Pline qui en a parlé avec admiration,
l’avait vu dans ce même endroit. C’est à cet écrivain que nous
devons la connoissance des trois habiles sculpteurs Rhodiens
qui l’ont exécuté, ils s’appellaient Agésandre, Polydore, et
Athenodore. Agésandre étoit probablement le père des deux
autres, ils florissaient au premier siècle de l’ere vulgaire.
La groupe est composé de cinq blocs si artistement réunis, que
Pline l’a cru d’un seul. Le bras droit du père et deux bras des
enfans manquent. Sans doute un jour on les exécutera en marbre.
Mais provisionnellement on les a suppliés par des bras moulés
sur la groupe en plâtre, restauré par _Gerardon_, qui se voit
dans la salle de l’école de peinture.”
_TRANSLATION._
“It was found in 1506, under the pontificate of Julius II, at
Rome, on the Esquiline mount, in the ruins of the palace of
Titus, near his _thermæ_, or hot baths. Pliny, who speaks of
this statue with admiration, had seen it in the same place.
It is to this writer we are indebted for the knowledge of the
three able sculptors of Rhodes, who executed this masterpiece.
Their names were, Agesander, Polydorus, and Athenodorus. It is
probable, that the first of these was the father of the other
two. They flourished during the first century of the common
era. The group consists of five pieces of marble, joined in
so workmanlike a manner, that Pliny thought the whole was
of one. The right arm of the father, and two of the arms of
the children, are wanting. They will, no doubt, be executed
hereafter in marble; in the mean time, the deficiency is
supplied by arms moulded on the group in plaister of Paris, the
work of Gerardon, which is to be seen in the hall of the school
of painting.”
In taking leave of the gallery of statues, I ought, perhaps, in answer to
several inquiries, which have been made me in letters from England, to
mention, that the _Hercules Farnese_, and the _Venus de Medici_, are not
in the collection. A british officer, lately returned from Egypt by way
of Italy, tells me, that both these statues are at present in the island
of Sicily. They are in the possession of the king of Naples, who keeps
them locked up in cases, and refuses permission, even to his greatest
favourites, to see them.
Adieu.
_POSTSCRIPT._
I add, for the sake of gratifying the curiosity of such of your friends
as are connoisseurs, and wish to know where their favourite pictures may
be found, a list of those of the most celebrated masters, now in the
Louvre.
FRENCH SCHOOL.
CHARLES LE BRUN.
No. 9. The Courage of Mutius Scævola.
10. The Death of Cato.
11. Portrait of Charles le Brun, taken in his youth, by himself.
12. St. Stephen stoned.
13. The Magdalen at the Pharisee’s.
14. Jesus asleep, or Silence.
15. The Benedicite.
16. The Cross surrounded with Angels.
17. The Defeat of Porus.
18. The Tent of Darius.
19. The Entry of Alexander into Babylon.
20. The Death of Meleager, king of Calydon.
21. The Conquest of Franche-Compté.—(The sketch from which le
Brun drew the celebrated picture, in the great gallery
at Versailles.)
22. The Nativity.
NICHOLAS POUSSIN.
No. 67. The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus, the Bishop.
68. The Philistines attacked with the Plague.
69. The Rape of the Sabines.
70. The Fall of Manna in the Desert.
71. Time makes Truth triumph.
72. The Last Supper.
73. St. Francis Xavier in India.
74. St. John Baptising in the river Jordan.
75. Rebecca and Eliezer.
76. Diogenes throwing away his Cup.
77. The Judgment of Solomon.
78. The Blind Men of Jericho.
79. Portrait of Poussin, taken by himself.
80. The Adultress.
81. The Death of Sapphira.
82. Winter, or the Deluge.
83. The Death of Eurydice.
84. The Holy Family.
85. The Assumption of the Virgin.
RESTOUT.
No. 88. Alpheus and Arethusa.
LE SUEUR (EUSTACHE.)
No. 98. The Preaching of St. Paul at Ephesus.
99. The Descent from the Cross.
100. The Celebration of Mass by St. Martir.
101. St. Gervais and St. Protais.
102. Clio, the Muse of History.
Euterpe, the Muse of Music.
Thalia, the Muse of Comedy.
103. Calliope, the Muse of Epic Poetry.
104. Urania, the Muse of Astronomy.
105. Terpsichore, the Muse of Dancing.
106. Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy.
Erato, the Muse of Lyric Poetry.
Polyhymnia, the Muse of Eloquence.
VAN LOO (CARLO.)
No. 115. Æneas and Anchises.
116. The Marriage of the Virgin.
VAN LOO (JOHN BAPTISTE.)
No. 117. Diana and Endymion.
VAN LOO (LOUIS MICHAEL.)
No. 118. The Picture of Carlo van Loo, the historical painter.
DUTCH, FLEMISH, AND GERMAN SCHOOL.
CHAMPAGNE (PHILIP OF.)
No. 212. The Archbishop of Milan, St. Ambrose.
213. The carrying the Bodies of St. Gervais and St. Protais, from
the spot where they were found, to the cathedral of Milan,
by order of the Archbishop.
214. A dead Christ extended on the Bier.
215. The Supper.
216. The Nuns.
217. Philip of Champagne, painted by himself, in 1668, at the age
of 66 years.
CLAISSENS (ANTONY.)
No. 218. The Judgment of Cambyses.
219. Cambyses orders an unjust Judge to be flayed alive, directing
his skin to be turned into a cover for the bench of his
successor.
DURER (ALBERT)
No. 249. The Portrait of a Geometrician.
250. The Portrait of a Musician.
251. A Crucifix.
DYCK (ANTONY VAN.)
No. 252. Christ lying dead in the Arms of the Virgin: near him are
St. Magdalen and St. John.
253. St. Augustin in a Swoon.
254. Charles the First, king of England.—(A delightful picture.)
255. The Mother of Pity.
256. Francis of Moncade, Marquis d’Aylonne, governor of the
Netherlands for Philip the Fourth.—This man was both a
warrior and an historian.
257. St. Martin cutting his Cloak, in order to give half of it to
a poor Man.—(This is one of the most interesting pictures
in the whole collection.)
258. Antony van Dyck.
259. _Comte de Luck_, holding an orange in his hand.
260. Half-length Picture of a Man, with his hand on his breast.
261. The Picture of a Man in Black.
262. The _Ex-voto_ and the Virgin.
263. Jesus carrying his Cross.
264. The Portraits of Charles the First, Elector Palatine, and
Prince Robert his Brother, both in military dresses.
265. The Portrait of a Man on Foot, holding his daughter, who is
on horseback, by the hand.
266. The Portrait of a Lady and her Son.
267. The half-length Portrait of a Man of 37, having a glove on
his left hand.
268. Half-length Portrait of a young Woman, with a fan of feathers
in her hand.
269. John Richardot (president of the privy council of the
Netherlands), one of the negotiators sent by the king
of Spain to Vervins—died in 1609.
270. Portrait, in the shape of a bust, of a Man in a black Cloak.
271. Venus soliciting from Vulcan Arms for Æneas.
272. The taking down from the Cross, a sketch.
DYCK (PHILIP VAN) CALLED THE LITTLE VAN DYCK, PUPIL OF ARNOLD BOONEN.
No. 270. B. Sarah presenting Agar to Abraham.
271. B. Agar repudiated by Abraham, at the instigation of Sarah.
272. B. Judith giving to her Maid the Head of Holophernes.
273. A Woman at her Toilet.
274. A young Woman playing on the Guitar.
GYZEN (PETER.)
No. 295. A Village Holiday.—(A very laughable picture.)
HOLBEIN (HANS OR JOHN) PUPIL OF JOHN HOLBEIN, HIS FATHER.
No. 313. The Portrait of a Man, with a black Cat.
314. Thomas Moore (lord chancellor of England) beheaded by order
of Henry VIII.
315. The Portrait of a young Man carrying a Hawk.
316. The Sacrifice of Abraham.
317. A young Woman in a Necklace of Pearls, and a red Jacket.
318. Erasmus.
319. A young Woman with a yellow Veil.
320. Robert Cheeseman, at the age of 48, with a Hawk.
321. Master Nicholas Kratzer, astronomer of Henry VIII of England.
322. The Archbishop of Canterbury, painted in 1528, at the age of
70.
323. Ann of Cleves, wife of Henry VIII of England.—(Henry the
eighth married her on seeing this picture, but repudiated
her six months after, finding that her beauty by no means
equalled that which had been given her by the painter.)
324. The Portrait, in miniature, of Erasmus.
PAUL POTTER.
No. 446. Landscape, with Cattle.—(This is the picture in which I
particularly admired the exact and wonderful imitation
of Nature.)
447. A Meadow.
448. A Meadow watered by a River, in which animals are drinking
and men bathing.—(This is a charming picture.)
449. Oxen and Pigs in a Pasture, near a cottage.
450. Two Horses at a Trough, near the door of a public house. A
man brings them water.
451. A Field.—In the front, three cows are standing under an oak;
and, on the left, an ox with white and black spots.
REMBRANDT (VAN RYN PAUL.)
No. 455. The Head of a Man, with a hat ornamented with black feathers.
456. Portrait of Rembrandt in his youth, taken by himself.
457. The Head of a Woman, dressed in long ear-rings, and a fur
cloak.
458. The good Samaritan.
459. The Head of an old Man with a long beard, who is also bald.
460. A Jewish Bride.
461. The Head of a young Man with a black cap, and a golden chain
round his neck.
462. The meditating Philosopher.
463. The contemplating Philosopher.
464. Small Head of a Man, dressed in a straw bonnet.
465. The Family of a Joiner.
466. Tobias and Family prostrate before the angel Raphael, who
disappears from their sight, after making himself known.
467. Susannah at the Bath.
468. The Pilgrims of Emans, and the breaking of Bread.
469. The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple.
470. St. Matthew, the Evangelist.
471. The Portrait of Rembrandt, in a more advanced period of life
than that of 456.
472. Venus and Cupid.
473. An old Man at his Meditations.
RUBENS (PETER PAUL.)