country, and where our ideas of government are more fixed, should we
suffer on our stage a play which recommended republican doctrines?
The answer is plain. I believe this is the right way of judging every
question. Viewing it in this light, I think, that if the consuls had any
fault, it was in suffering “Edward” to be acted. In stopping it they have
only done their duty.
I am, &c.
LETTER XVIII.
_The carnival._—Masks in all the streets.—Account of the
different characters, processions, &c.—Masqued ball at the
opera house.
Paris, february the 25th, 1802 (6 ventose).
MY DEAR SIR,
The streets of Paris have, since sunday last, exhibited a very singular
appearance to the eye of an englishman. The carnival is now begun;
and the people, being permitted by the present government to return
to all their old habits, are celebrating this season of the year with
that gayety, whim, and eccentricity, which it has long been a kind of
religious duty, in catholic countries, to display on such occasions. From
six in the morning till midnight, the principal streets are crowded with
masks of every description; and while a certain number are contented with
exhibiting their fun and their dresses on foot, others are mounted on
horses, attended by servants, also in _costume_, and some are seated in
carriages of every description. In short, Paris has been one continued
scene of jubilee, and it is difficult to pass through the principal
avenues of the town, on account of the vast crowds of singular figures,
who press forward on every side, and arrest the attention of spectators.
Harlequins, Columbines, beaux, abbés, lawyers, and monks, present
themselves every where; and while they circulate in detached parties,
mamalukes, turks, and indian savages, correctly dressed, well mounted,
and attended with bands of music, move in numerous bodies. These, and
motley groups of masks of all kinds, filling the inside, top, and every
part of hackney coaches, landaus, sociables, curricles, cabriolets, and
german waggons, form lengthened processions on the Boulevard, in the
rue St. Honoré, and in the neighbourhood of the Palais royal; while the
latter, the Thuilleries, and Champs Elisées, are filled with pedestrian
and motley coloured wits, who, attacking each other with _poissard_
eloquence, amuse not a little the surrounding multitude.
It is difficult to convey an idea of the show, variety, and eccentricity
of the dresses. In the extraordinary processions, which I have already
mentioned, several handsome carriages were employed, drawn very
frequently by four, sometimes by six, and, in more instances than one, by
eight horses. Caricatures of all sorts were exhibited; and it was curious
to see the _costumes_ of friars, nuns, full dressed _marquis_, powdered
_abbés_, and mitred prelates, appearing as masquerade disguises in those
streets, where, twelve years before, the same dresses excited the serious
respect of every one.
The people showed considerable fun in many of the grotesque figures
which they assumed; and I was particularly pleased with a fellow,
who, imitating our english print, was dressed as a monk, and literally
carried on his back a young girl enclosed in a truss of straw, with these
words written on his burden, “Provision pour le convent[50].” Besides
innumerable _Eves_, beautiful _Venusses_, and handsome legged damsels,
dressed as boys, _Diana_ had many a fair representative, clad in flesh
coloured pantaloons, and gracefully perched on the edge of a coach box,
embracing with one arm a Hercules, and with the other an Adonis. I think
you will admire, as I did, the admirable choice of such a dress, and such
a posture, for the goddess of Modesty. The moral conduct of each lady
was, doubtless, not less appropriate than her outward appearance to the
character which she assumed.
This amusement has already continued some days, and will, I am told,
last at least ten more. It is difficult to ascertain how the body of
the people, who alone take part in these sports, can support both, the
loss of time, and the expense which the dresses, carriages, &c. must
necessarily occasion. It is indeed reported, that the government pays
the whole cost, and that the principal characters are hired to amuse
the mob; but a respectable gentleman, who was intimately connected
with the minister of police under the old _régime_, assures me, that
the same thing was said at that time; and that nothing was more false,
though the masks were then as splendid and as numerous as they are at
present. I believe, the truth is simply this, that the french are so
fond of pleasure, of amusement, and _spectacles_ of all kinds, that
there is no sacrifice which they will not endure, in order to be able
to indulge this favourite passion. A parisian will dine for six days on
a sallad, that he may go on the seventh to a ball or a play; and I have
no doubt that the emperors, caliphs, and janissaries, whom I have seen
to day in such oriental splendour, have many of them still, like good
christians, begun to mortify the flesh, even before the commencement of
Lent. This necessary sobriety, united to the regulations of the police,
which are admirable, prevents any disorder or riots in the streets; and
notwithstanding the swarms of idle masqueraders, who wander at present
about this great city, I have not yet heard of a single accident, or of
the slightest disturbance.
The carnival is celebrated in the same manner by the higher classes in
the evening; and there is a masquerade every night at the opera house.
I went there yesterday, and observed more gayety among the persons
assembled, than I have yet seen in France. The pit being joined to the
stage, gave a large space, which was entirely filled. The gentlemen
do not usually wear masks, and their persons are only covered with a
domino. It is one of the privileges of the ladies to conceal their faces,
and to attack, without being known, the _beaux_ of their acquaintance.
This custom takes from the splendour of the masquerade, as very few
persons are fancifully dressed, and almost all are occupied in seeking
adventures. Nor was the conversation livelier than on such occasions
in England: the small number of individuals who pretended to assume
characters, trusted to their dresses, rather than their wit, for the
support of their parts. There were “english jockies,” who had never heard
of Newmarket, and who could speak no language but the french; haughty
dons, who could not answer a question in Spanish; actors, who could not
repeat a single line either of Racine, Corneille, or Voltaire; beys of
Egypt, who knew not the course of the Nile; grand signors, who heard, for
the first time, that wine was forbidden by the Koran; and monks, who did
not know to what order they belonged. Yet, notwithstanding these little
defects, the evening was lively; and though there was no form, there was
no disturbance.
Whatever improprieties might have privately taken place, no indecency
shocked the public eye; no drunken persons made their appearance; no
woman was insulted, and no quiet inoffensive man dragged into a quarrel.
This is, indeed, the great and striking characteristic of a public
place in France, that it may be visited in safety; and if the parisian
_spectacles_ are less amusing than those of London, the former have, at
least, the negative merit of not exposing those who frequent them to
riot, rudeness, or inconvenience.
I am, &c.
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.
Paris, march the 7th, 1801, (16 ventose).
MY DEAR SIR,
I spent yesterday a very busy and a very entertaining day. On the 15th of
every month, the first consul, after the review (the ceremony of which
I have described in a former letter), gives audience to the ambassadors
and foreigners, in other words, holds his court. As I was very anxious
to have an opportunity of seeing, in a private room, and of speaking
to Bonaparte, who, whatever his political merits or faults may be, is
indisputably one of the most extraordinary men whom the world ever
produced, I requested Mr. Jackson, the british minister, to do me the
favour of presenting me. My name having accordingly been sent in to the
minister for foreign affairs, I drove to the palace of the Thuilleries,
at three o’clock, where, in a small apartment on the ground floor,
called “la Salle des Ambassadeurs,” the foreign ministers, and their
respective countrymen, wait till the first consul is ready to receive
them. Chocolate, lemonade, sherbet, and liqueurs, were served round in
abundance; and, after an interval of nearly an hour, the doors were
thrown open, and we ascended the great stairs of the palace, which were
lined with grenadiers, who stood with rested arms on every step. In the
antichamber there was an officer’s guard, which saluted us in passing;
and after going through four or five very large rooms, in each of which
there was on both sides a file of soldiers, we, at last, found ourselves
in what would be called, in England, the presence chamber. Here, in a
splendid _salon_, stood Bonaparte, between Cambacères, the second consul,
and le Brun, the third. They were all three dressed in their grand
_costume_ of scarlet velvet, richly embroidered with gold. The generals,
senators, and counsellors of state, who surrounded Bonaparte, retired
on our arrival, and a circle was instantly formed, the foreigners of
different nations ranging themselves behind their respective ministers.
The imperial ambassador stood on the right hand side of the first consul;
next to him was placed Mr. Jackson; and on the left I perceived _marquis
Luchesini_, the prussian minister, and the hereditary prince of Orange,
whom he presented this day. In compliment to the latter, Bonaparte,
contrary to his usual practice, began the audience on that side. He spoke
for some time to the son of the deposed Stadtholder, and seemed anxious
to render his situation (awkward and extraordinary as it was) as little
painful as possible; but I thought I could remark, in the countenance
of this respectable young man, a look which proved that these efforts,
though well meant, were ineffectual. In passing by each foreign minister,
the first consul received the individuals of their respective nations
with great ease and dignity. When it came to Mr. Jackson’s turn, sixteen
english were presented; and, after Bonaparte had spoke to five or six
of us, he said, with a smile, which is peculiarly his own, and which
changes a countenance, usually stern, into one of great mildness, “Je
suis charmé de voir tant d’Anglois ici. J’espére que notre union sera
de longue durée. Nous sommes les deux nations les plus puissantes et
les plus civilizées de l’Europe. Il faut nous unir pour cultiver les
arts, les sciences, les lettres, enfin pour faire le bonheur de l’espèce
humaine[51].”
Mr. Jackson made no reply, and, of course, no one else could say any
thing. The first consul spoke to each individual with politeness, and
inquired to what regiments those belonged who were presented in uniform.
He particularly distinguished colonel Graham, an officer of great merit
in our service, who, both in Italy and in Syria, had been opposed to the
arms of France, when commanded in person by Bonaparte. After going round
the circle, he spoke a second time to this gentleman, and paid the same
compliment to the hereditary prince of Orange. The audience then closed,
and we descended with the same ceremonies as in coming in, to “la Salle
des Ambassadeurs,” where we waited for our carriages.
The whole was conducted with great dignity; and persons used to courts,
all agree, that the audience of the first consul is one of the most
splendid things of the kind in Europe. The pomp of military parade with
which it is attended, the beauty of the palace, the handsome uniforms
and commanding figures of the soldiery, the variety of regimentals worn
by the officers of different nations, the elegance of taste displayed by
some foreigners (for every one not in uniform is in the full dress of
the old court), the splendid stars, ribands, and orders of others, and,
above all, the celebrity of Bonaparte, unite so many circumstances in
its favour, that you will not be surprised at a judgment, which, to a
person who has not lately seen Paris, may seem extraordinary. As to the
first consul, he is as superiour in little things as in great ones; and,
had he been born a sovereign, he could not possibly discharge this part
of his duty with more ease, dignity, and decorum. He is also very ready
in finding subjects of conversation, and opportunities of civility.
He gave yesterday a proof of this; which, though I did not hear it
myself, I shall venture to report on the credit of a person on whom I
can rely. A prussian aid-de-camp being presented (whose name I have
forgotten), Bonaparte asked, “where his general had last served?” The
officer replied, “in the campaign against France.”—“I beg you a thousand
pardons,” rejoined the consul; “but it is so contrary to the usual order
of things (_si peu naturel_) to see the prussians and french opposed to
each other, that the circumstance had entirely escaped me[52].”
Before I conclude my account of the audience, I ought to mention, that
it may be well called a _court_; for it is attended not only with all
the requisites of show, parade, form, and etiquette, but likewise by
that flattery and cringing attention, which it was once the exclusive
privilege of royalty to receive. I saw the proudest nobles of foreign
courts, decorated with all the trappings of chivalry, humbly bending
the body, and anxiously courting the smile of that individual, whom, a
few years, nay, a few months before, they would have branded with the
names of rebel, jacobin, and usurper; but the creed of courtiers is to
change with “existing circumstances,” and those, whose intrigues against
Bonaparte were the most active, are now his most obsequious sycophants.
But a truce to remarks which lead to politics.
The english who were presented immediately after the peace, were asked
to dinner; but owing to the greatness, I imagine, of our number, this
favour was not yesterday shown to us. I regret much having missed the
entertainment, as I am told it was strikingly magnificent.
I went in the evening to see a _spectacle_, infinitely more interesting,
according to french ideas, though certainly not so according to mine. I
mean, the first appearance, this season, of Vestris, and mademoiselle
Chameroi. This was at Paris a matter of great importance, and boxes were
engaged for weeks before hand. Mrs. ⸺ was fortunate enough to procure
one; and I therefore saw the performance (Hecubé, and “le _Ballet_ de
Paris,”) to great advantage. Vestris has certainly lost none of his
merit, and deserves, as well as ever, that celebrity which has long been
his; but I could not help being disgusted at the thunder of applause
which greeted his appearance. It is impossible, indeed, to carry further
the _sublime_ art of dancing; but how contemptible is it to lavish the
praises of a great nation on the exertions of mere bodily skill! If, as
Dr. Johnson well observes, “the garlands due to the great benefactors
of mankind should not be suffered to fade upon the brow of those who
can boast only petty services and easy virtues,” much less should they
ornament the head of him, whose utmost claims on the gratitude of the
public are the flexibility of his body, or the grace of his steps.
Mademoiselle Chameroi, the _élève_ and favourite of Vestris, danced
delightfully, and almost shared the popularity of her protector.
Bonaparte was present, and sat, for the first time, in his state or
open box. He was welcomed with warm and universal plaudits; but I blush
to add, that they were not greater than those which the “quick-footed”
Vestris had already received. Is it possible that the parisians reward,
with the same honours, the services of their great statesmen, and the
exertions of their favourite dancers?
From the opera I went to a supper and concert, given in honour of the
prince of Orange, at the celebrated madame de St—l’s. Her house is one
of the most agreeable in Paris, and one of the few at which foreigners
are received with kindness and hospitality. I have not been fortunate
enough to form part of her dinner societies; but I am told, that they
well deserve the credit of affording “the feast of reason, and the flow
of wit.” Her evening assemblies, at several of which I have been present,
are the liveliest and best conducted which I have seen in this town.
The most distinguished public characters, all the foreigners of eminence,
and most of the reigning _belles_ of Paris, are always met with at her
house. Her parties, too, are so admirably managed, that every one does
precisely what he wishes; and a stranger is sure to be amused either with
excellent music, cards, or, what is better than either, the conversation
of the lady of the house.
Adieu. This letter is already so very long that I shall make no apology
for an abrupt conclusion.
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.
Paris, march the 20th, 1802 (29 ventose.)
MY DEAR SIR,
I went this morning to the picture gallery, (or _Musée Central des
Arts_), and was very agreeably surprised at finding that the antichamber,
which, on my first, arrival at Paris, was filled with a miserable modern
exhibition, now contains some of the _chefs-d’œuvre_ of the first masters.
These pictures, taken from Venice, Florence, Turin, and Foligno, have
lately been arranged and deposited in this room. The advertisement to
the additional catalogue, published on the occasion, acquaints us,
that the persons entrusted with the management of the _Musée_, anxious
to increase the pleasure of the public, and the improvement of the
arts, had regularly exhibited, as they received them, the pictures
collected at Bologna, Cento, Modena, Parma, Placenza, Rome, Venice,
Florence, and Turin. But among the number, there were some in such a
state of decay, that it was impossible to place them in the _Louvre_,
without incurring the almost certain danger of their destruction. The
administrators, therefore, very wisely determined to take every possible
means of rescuing these sublime efforts of the art of painting from that
entire ruin, into which they were rapidly falling. Their zeal and their
perseverance have been crowned with success, infinitely greater than they
could possibly have expected.
By a report made to the _national institute_ by _Morveau_, _Vincent_, and
_Taunay_, it appears, that the celebrated picture of Raphael, called “la
Vierge au Donataire,” or the Virgin with the Donor, found at Foligno, was
in such a state of decay from the dampness of the place, where it had
long been deposited, that the persons employed by the french government,
much doubted the possibility of conveying it to Paris. After having taken
every precaution, which their experience could suggest, to prevent the
danger which they apprehended, they ordered the removal; but they felt,
at the same time, that they could not exhibit this masterpiece in France,
till they had shifted the ground from the wood on which it was originally
painted, and which had become entirely rotten.
“Le Martyre de St. Pierre le Dominican,” or the Martyrdom of St.
Peter the Dominican, esteemed one of the _chefs-d’œuvre_ of the art
of painting, and the finest work which ever came from the pencil of
Titian, was also, when found in the church of St. John and St. Paul,
at Venice, painted on wood, and the pannel uncommonly thick. Its great
dimensions obliged the commissioners to order it to be transported by sea
to Marseilles. As the frigate, “la Favourite,” on board of which it was
embarked, met with a storm during the passage, the case which contained
it was exposed to the wet, and the humidity found its way to the picture.
It was no longer possible to discover its beauties; and the only means
left of saving the picture, was, by removing it from the wood, and
placing it on cloth. This operation, as well as the former one, rendered,
in the latter case, still more difficult, by the extraordinary size of
the picture, was performed by C. Hacquin, with wonderful skill, great
talent, and singular success. The process, which was superintended by a
committee of the _national institute_, is given in the catalogue.
Both these superior specimens of painting are now restored to all their
brilliancy, and to all their original perfection; and the principles on
which this transposition has been effected, are so simple, that there is
no longer any thing to dread from similar accidents.
The preface continues to state, that this new exhibition unites the most
esteemed productions of the florentine, venetian, and roman schools. Some
from the palace of Pitti, at Florence, and some from Turin. Specimens
are presented of the works of artists unknown in Paris, and perhaps in
many parts or Europe. Such are the Hunters, by St. Jean de St. Jean;
the Virgin, the infant Jesus, and the infant St. John, by _Lorenzo
Sabbatini_; and the _Ecce Homo_, of _Cigoli_; to which is added, a
valuable picture of various animals, by J. Weeninix, lately bought by
the minister of the interior, at the sale of _Paillet_ and _Coclers_,
and united to the collection of the _Musée Central_, which, as the
catalogue well observes, will become the most magnificent of Europe, if
acquisitions are thus made of those productions, which are still wanting
to complete it. I shall conclude this account, by mentioning the pictures
of the celebrated masters.
PAUL VERONESE.
No. 44. “Les Nôces de Canna,” or the Marriage in Cana, by Paul
Veronese, is a large picture, in which he has introduced
all the dresses and extraordinary characters of the age in
which he lived. It is one of the four _cenes_, or feasts,
and was exhibited in the refectory of the monks of _St.
George the great_, at Venice. The artist received for
this interesting picture only 90 ducats, or 675 _livres
tournois_.—The second _cene_ is called “le Repas,” or the
Repast at Simon’s, and was in the refectory of the friars
of St. Sebastian, at Venice. It is now in the _Musée_.—The
third is the Repast at _Levi’s_, which forms the number 45
in this collection; and the fourth, in which Paul Veronese
paints our Saviour at the Pharisee’s, has long been at
Versailles, in the _Salon d’Hercule_, having been given
to Lewis XIV by the republic of Venice. “Ainsi,” says
the catalogue, in the style of french gasconade, “graces
au génie de la Victoire, la publique aura bientôt la
jouissance de voir ces quatre magnifique compositions
réunis dans le Musée Central[53].”
No. 45. Is the Repast at Levi’s, mentioned above.
46. Is the Virgin, St. Jerom, and other saints.—One of his best
pictures, taken from the convent of St. Zacharia, at
Venice.
47. The Martyrdom of St. George, taken from the principal altar
of the church of St. George, at Venice, esteemed the
finest work which Paul Veronese left in his own country.
The _Musée_ has the same work in little.
48. Jupiter thundering against Crimes. Taken from the ducal
palace at Venice, where it was placed in the hall of
the council of ten. The crimes described in the picture
are, Forgery, Exaction, and Treason, which were the
subjects specially entrusted to this dreadful tribunal,
whose judgments were without appeal. Paul Veronese
executed this work after a journey to Rome. He pretended
to have copied, and _connoisseurs_ pretend to discover,
figures imitated from the antique.
49. Christ carrying his Cross.—This valuable picture painted on
wood, comes from the old collection of the kings of France.
50. The Crucifixion of our Saviour.—This also comes from the
royal collection.
No. 51. The Pilgrims of Emmaus, taken from Versailles.
PORDENONE.
No. 54. St. Laurence, Justiniani, and other saints. Taken from the
church of _Madona del Orto_, at Venice. Reckoned one of
_Pordenone’s_ best works. His name appears on it, written
thus, “Joannes Antoninus Portapanaensis.”
RAPHAEL.