_Bonaparte.--Artillery.--Mr. Pitt--Newspapers.--Archbishop of
Paris.--Consular Colours.--Religion.--Consular Conversion.--Madame
Bonaparte.--Consular Modesty.--Separate Beds.--A Country
Scene.--Connubial Affection.--Female Bravery._
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 military 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
coincidence--in the vast plain of the Champ de Mars, the court, and the
parisians were assembled to witness the ascent of a balloon. Bonaparte
made his way through the crowd, and unperceived, entered the inner
fence, which contained the apparatus for inflating the silken globe. It
was then very nearly filled, and restrained from its flight by the last
cord only. The young cadet requested the aeronaut to permit him to mount
the car with him; which request was immediately refused, from an
apprehension that the feelings of the boy might embarrass the
experiment. Bonaparte is reported to have exclaimed, "I am young, it is
true, but I neither fear the powers of earth, nor of air," and sternly
added, "will you let me ascend?" The aeronaut, a little offended at his
obtrusion, sharply replied, "No, Sir, I will not; I beg that you will
retire." Upon which the little enraged officer, drew a small sabre,
which he wore with his uniform, instantly cut the balloon in several
places, and destroyed the curious apparatus, which the aeronaut had
constructed, with infinite labour and ingenuity, for the purpose of
trying the possibility of aerial navigation.
Paris was almost unpeopled this day, to view the spectacle. The
disappointment of the populace, 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 little
thought that he was speaking of his successor.--The young offender was
put under arrest, and confined for four days.
This man is certainly the phenomenon of the present times. It is a
circumstance worthy of remark, that the artillery has furnished France
with most of its present distinguished heroes, who have also been bred
up in the same military school with Bonaparte. A short time before my
arrival at Paris, this great genius, who displays a perfect knowledge of
mankind, and particularly of the people over whom he rules, discovered
that the parisians, from a familiarity with his person, and from 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. In
consequence of this, he gradually retired from every circle of fashion,
and was at this period, almost as inaccessible as a chinese emperor.
The same line of conduct was also adopted by the principal officers of
government. He resided almost wholly at Mal Maison, except on state
days, when only those strangers were permitted to be introduced to him,
who had satisfired the ambassadors of their respective nations, that
they had been previously presented at their own courts. If Bonaparte is
spared from the stroke of the assassin, or the prætorian caprice of the
army, for any length of time, he will have it in his power to augment
the services which he has already afforded to the republic, 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 discharge this great undertaking faithfully, in a
manner uniform with that glory which he has acquired in the field, and
influenced only by the noble desire of giving rational liberty, and
practicable happiness to the people over whom 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 amongst
them--they will confer those sanctions upon his well merited
distinction, without which all authority is but disastrous usurpation--a
comet's blaze, flaming in a _night of dismay_, and _setting in gloom_.
The dignity of such a legislator will be self-maintained, and lasting.
Upon him, the grateful french will confer those unforced, unpurchased
suffrages, which will _prevent_ that fate, which, in their absence, the
subtilty of policy, the fascinations of address, the charm of
corruption, and even the terror of the 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 _will_
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 remeasure their vengeance by their
wrongs.
In Paris, the achievements of the first consul are not much 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 contemplated at a distance.
The french at present work, walk, eat, drink, and sleep in tranquillity,
and what is of more consequence to them, they dance in security, to
which may be added, that their taxes are neither very heavy, nor
oppressive. In every party which I entered, I found the late minister of
Great Britain was the prevailing subject of curiosity. I was overpowered
with questions respecting this great man, which in their minute detail,
extended to ascertain what was the colour of his eye, the shape of his
nose, and whether in a morning he wore hussar boots, or shoes. This
little circumstance could not fail of proving pleasant to an englishman.
They informed me, that throughout the war, they regularly read in their
own diurnal prints, our parliamentary debates, and the general outline
of most of our political schemes, which were 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
authorities. Whilst I am mentioning the subject of newspaper
intercourse, I cannot help lamenting, 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 liberty of the press is the palladium of reason, the distributor of
light and learning, the public 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
fortified recesses and writes its _fearful sentence on the palace wall_
of recoiling tyrants. As an englishman, 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 fretful spleen, and ungenerous animadversion. When
the horizon is no longer blackened with the smoke of the battle, it is
unworthy of two mighty empires 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 recrimination.
A short time preceding my arrival in France, Bonaparte had rendered
himself very popular amongst the constitutional clergy, by a well timed
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 archbishop by
observing, that as he had given directions for the repairing of the
archiepiscopal palace, he should very much like to take a ride in the
archbishop's carriage, to see the progress which the workmen had made.
The prelate bowed to the first consul, and informed him that he had no
carriage, otherwise he should be much flattered by conducting him
thither. Bonaparte good humouredly said, "how can that be? your coach
has been waiting at the gate this half hour," and immediately led the
venerable archbishop down the steps of the Thuilleries, where he found a
plain handsome carriage, with a valuable pair of horses, and a coachman,
and footmen dressed in the livery which Bonaparte had just before
informed him would be allotted to him, when his establishment was
completed. The whole was a present from the private purse of the first
consul. Upon their arrival at the palace, the archbishop was agreeably
surprised by finding that the most minute, and liberal attention had
been paid to his comfort and accommodation.
The clergy seem to be in favour with Bonaparte. 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 military parade, he was
desirous of having the colours of his regiment consecrated by the holy
prelate, and submitted his wishes to his soldiers. A few days
afterwards, a deputation waited upon their general in chief, with this
reply, "Our banners have already been consecrated by the blood of our
enemies at Marengo; the benediction of a priest cannot render them more
sacred in our eyes, nor more animating in the time of battle." Bonaparte
prudently submitted himself to their prætorian resolution, and the
consular colours remain to this hour in the same _unchristianlike_
condition, as when they first waved at the head of their victorious
legions. This anecdote will in some degree prove a fact which,
notwithstanding the counter reports of english newspapers, I found every
where confirmed, that although religion is _new_ to the french, yet that
the novelty has at present but little charm for them. I had frequent
opportunity of making this remark, as well in the capital as in the
departments of the republic through which I passed. In Paris, the
Sabbath can only be considered as a day of dissipation to the lovers of
gayety, 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 worship, but curiosity, and the love of show
assemble them together, if it was otherwise their attendance would be
more numerous and regular. The first consul does not seem to possess
much fashionable influence over the french in matters of religion,
otherwise, as he has the credit of attending mass, with very pious
punctuality, in his private chapel at Mal Maison, it might be rather
expected, that devotion would become a little more familiar to the
people.
Upon another subject, the _profession_ of the chief magistrate has been
equally unfortunate. To the few ladies who are admitted into his social
circles, he has declared himself an enemy to that dress, or undress (I
am puzzled to know what to call it) which his friend, David, has, so
successfully, recommended, for the purpose of displaying, with the least
possible restraint, the fine proportions of the female form. Madame
Bonaparte, who is considered to be in as good a state of subordination
to her _young_ husband, as the consular regiment is to their _young_
general, contrives to exhibit her elegant person to great advantage; by
adopting a judicious and graceful medium of dress, by which she
tastefully avoids a load of decoration, which repels the eye by too
dense a covering, and that questionable airiness of ornament which, by
its gracious and unrestrained 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 _faithful_ pair,
which after the solemnities of marriage very seldom remain long
unoccupied. The first consul considers 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, "crimes only divide the
husband from his wife. Make as many bed rooms as you please, but only
_one_ for me and Madame Bonaparte."
I must now quit the dazzling splendour of imperial virtues for the more
tranquil, but not less fascinating appearance of retired and modest
merit.
It was in the afternoon of one of the finest days in June, when Madame
O----, with her nephew, a very amiable young man, called in their
carriage and took me to the chateau of her husband, to whom I had
letters of introduction. After passing through a charming country for
nine miles, adorned on each side with gardens and country houses, we
arrived at the pleasant village of la Reine. As soon as we entered it,
the sight of the carriage, and of their benefactress, seemed to enliven
the faces of the villagers, who were seated in picturesque groupes at
the 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 seldom seen her without experiencing some
endearing 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 cloudless, 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 appearance
at once bespoke him to be the son of a gentleman, the animated smile of
Madame O----, immediately convinced me that it was her son; "see," said
the delighted mother, "it is my little gardener;" the little graceful
rustic had a small spade in his hand, which he threw down, and ran to
us. We alighted at the entrance of the garden, into which we entered,
under a beautiful covered treillage, lined with jessamine and
honeysuckles. At the end were two elegant young women, waiting, with
delight, to receive their mother, from whom they had been separated only
a few hours. With this charming family I entered the house, which was
handsome but plain. The hospitable owner rose from his sofa, and, after
embracing his elegant lady with great affection, he received me with all
the expressions and warmth of a long friendship. Soon afterwards his
servant (a faithful indian) entered, and spread upon the table, Madeira,
Burgundy, and dried fruits. It was intensely hot: the great window at
the end of the room in which we were sitting, opened into the gardens,
which appeared to be very beautiful, and abounded with nightingales,
which were then most sweetly singing. "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 in, and they give me this
charming music every evening."
Monsieur O---- was an invalide, the revolution, poignant vexations,
heavy losses, and a painful separation from his native country, for the
preservation of his life, and that of his family, had undermined his
health. Grief had made 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 accomplished family. His circumstances 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 themselves, had alone destroyed the resemblance which
once existed between this excellent man and his admirable portrait,
which, at the further end of the room, presented the healthy glow, and
fine proportions of manly beauty. He expressed to me, in the most
charming manner, his regret, that indisposition confined him to the
country, and prevented him from receiving me in Paris suitable to his
own wishes, and to those claims which I had upon his attentions, by the
letters of introduction which I had brought to him; but added, that he
should furnish me with letters to some of his friends in town, who would
be happy to supply his absence, and to make Paris agreeable to me.
Monsieur O---- was as good as his word.
This amiable gentleman possessed a countenance of great genius, and a
mind full of intelligence.
After an elegant supper, when his lady and daughters had withdrawn, he
entered into a very interesting account of his country, of the
revolution, and of his flight for the salvation of himself and family. A
tolerably good opinion may be formed of the devastation which have been
produced by the late republican government, by the following
circumstance, which Monsieur O---- assured me, on the word of a man of
honour, was correct.
His section in Paris was composed of one thousand three hundred persons,
of rank and fortune, of whom only five had escaped the slaughter of the
guillotine!!
Madame O---- and her charming family, seemed wholly to occupy his heart
and affections.
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 Madame O----, when he first addressed her, only because her
fortune was humble, compared with his. He informed me, and I must not
suppress the story, that in the time of blood, this amiable woman, who
is remarkable for the delicacy of her mind, and for the beauty and
majesty of her person, displayed a degree of 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 from Italy, and who were by that archfiend employed
in all the butcheries, and massacres of Paris, entered the peaceful
village of la Reine, in search of Monsieur O----. His lady saw them
advancing, and anticipating their errand, had just time to give her
husband intelligence of their approach, who left his chateau by a back
door, and secreted himself in the house of a neighbour. Madame O----,
with perfect composure, went out to meet them, and received them in the
most gracious manner. They sternly demanded Mons. O----, she informed
them that he had left the country, and after engaging them in
conversation, she conducted them into her drawing room, and regaled them
with her best wines, and made her servants attend upon them with unusual
deference and ceremony. Their appearance was altogether horrible, they
wore leather aprons, which were sprinkled all over with blood, they had
large horse pistols in their belts, and a dirk and sabre by their sides.
Their looks were full of ferocity, and they spoke a harsh dissonant
patois language. Over their cups, 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---- sat with them, undismayed by their frightful deportment. After
drinking several bottles of Champaign and Burgundy, these savages began
to grow good humoured, and seemed to be completely fascinated by the
amiable and unembarrassed, 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---- 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 tranquillity and
confidence in their promises, wished her unwelcome visitors a good
night, and after visiting her children in their rooms, she threw herself
upon her bed, with a loaded pistol in each hand, and, overwhelmed with
suppressed agony and agitation, she _soundly_ slept till she was called
by her servants, two hours after these wretches had left the house. He
related also another instance of that resolution which is not
unfrequently exhibited by women, when those generous affections, for
which they are so justly celebrated, are menaced with danger. About the
same period, two of the children of Monsieur O---- were in Paris at
school: A rumour had reached him, that the teachers of the seminary in
which they were placed, had offended the government, and were likely to
be butchered, and that the carnage which was expected to take place,
might, in its undistinguishing fury, extend to the pupils. Immediately
upon receiving this intelligence, Monsieur O---- ordered his carriage,
for the purpose of proceeding to town. Madame O---- implored of him to
permit her to accompany him; in vain did he beseech her to remain at
home; the picture of danger which he painted, only rendered her more
determined. She mounted the carriage, and seated herself by the side of
her husband. When they reached Paris, they were stopped in the middle of
the street St. Honoré, 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 ears were pierced with screams. Many of the miserable
victims were cut down, clinging to the windows of their carriage. During
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,
observing the butcheries which were perpetrating on each side of her.
Had she been observed to close her eyes, or to set back in the carriage,
she would have excited a suspicion, which, no doubt, would have proved
fatal to her. At length she reached the school which contained her
children, where she found the rumour which they had received was without
foundation; she calmly conducted them to the carriage, and during their
gloomy return through Paris, betrayed no emotions; but as soon as they
had passed the barrier, and were once more in safety upon the road to
their peaceful chateau, the exulting mother, in an agony of joy, pressed
her children to her bosom, and in a state of mind wrought up to frenzy,
arrived at her own house, in convulsions of ghastly laughter. 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
various accomplishments.
I found myself a gainer in the article of delight, by leaving the gayest
metropolis that Europe can present to a traveller, for the sake of
visiting such a family.