_Convent of blue Nuns.--Duchesse de Biron.--The bloody Key.--Courts
of Justice.--Public Library.--Gobelines.--Miss Linwood.--Garden of
Plants.--French Accommodation.--Boot Cleaners.--Cat and Dog
Shearers.--Monsieur S---- and Family._
The english convent, or as it is called, the convent of blue nuns, in
the Rue de St. Victoire, is the only establishment of the kind, which
throughout the republic, has survived the revolution. To what cause its
exclusive protection is attributable, is not, I believe correctly known.
But though this spot of sacred seclusion, has escaped the final stroke
of extermination, it has sustained an ample share of the general
desolation. During the time of terrour, it was converted into the
crowded prison of the female nobility, who were here confined, and
afterwards dragged from its cloisters, and butchered by the guillotine,
or the daggers of assassins. I had a letter of introduction to Mrs.
S----, one of the sisterhood, a lady of distinguished family in England.
I found her in the refectory. A dignified dejection overspread her
countenance, and her figure seemed much emaciated by the scenes of
horrour through which she had passed. She informed me, that when the
nuns were in a state of arrestation by the order of Robespierre, the
convent was so crowded with prisoners, that they were obliged to eat
their wretched meals in three different divisions. The places of the
unhappy beings who were led off to execution, were immediately filled by
fresh victims.
Amongst those who suffered, was the beautiful young duchesse de Biron,
said to be one of the loveliest women of the french court. Her fate was
singular, and horrible. One morning, two of the assistant executioners
came into one of the rooms, and called upon the female citizen Biron to
come forward, meaning the old duchesse de Biron, the mother, who was
here immured with her daughter; some one said, which of them do you
require? The hell-hounds replied, "Our order was for one only, but as
there are two, we will have both, that there may be no errour." The
mother and daughter were taken away, locked senseless in each others
arms. When the cart which carried them arrived at the foot of the
scaffold, the chief executioner looked at his paper, which contained a
list of his victims, and saw the name of only one Biron; the assistants
informed him that they found two of that name in the convent, and to
prevent mistake, they had brought both. The principal, with perfect sang
froid, said it was all well, wrote with a pencil the article "les"
before the name Biron, to which he added an s, and immediately beheaded
both!!!
Mrs. S---- led me to the chapel, to show me the havoc which the
unspairing impious hands of the revolution had there produced. She put
into my hand an immense massy key to open the door of the choir. "That
key," said she, "was made for the master-key of the convent, by the
order of Robespierre. In the time of terrour, our gaoler wore it at his
belt. A thousand times has my soul sunk within me, when it loudly pushed
the bolt of the lock aside. When the door opened, it was either a signal
to prepare for instant death to some of those who were within, or for
the gloomy purpose of admitting new victims." When we entered the
chapel, my surprise and abhorrence were equally excited. The windows
were beaten through, the hangings were flapping in the wind, the altar
was shattered in pieces and prostrate, the pavement was every where torn
up, and the caves of the dead were still yawning upon us. From their
solemn and hallowed depths, the mouldering relics of the departed had
been raised, by torch light, and heaped in frightful piles of unfinished
decay against the walls, for the purpose of converting the lead, which
contained these wretched fragments of mortality, into balls for the
musketry of the revolution. The gardens behind the chapel must have been
once very pleasant, but they then had the appearance of a wilderness.
The painful uncertainty of many years, had occasioned the neglect and
ruin in which I saw them. Some of the nuns were reading upon shattered
seats, under overgrown bowers, and others were walking in the melancholy
shade of neglected avenues. The effect of the whole was gloomy and
sorrowful, and fully confirmed the melancholy recital which I received
from Mrs. S----. Bonaparte, it is said, intends to confirm to these
nuns their present residence, by an act of government.
Upon leaving the convent I visited the seats of cassation, and justice,
in the architectural arrangement of which, I saw but little worthy of
minute notice, except the perfect accommodation which pervades all the
french buildings, which are appropriated to the administration of the
laws.
The hall of the first cassation, or grand court of appeal, is very fine.
The judges wear elegant costumes, and were, as well as the advocates,
seated upon chairs, which were constructed to imitate the seats of roman
magistracy, and had a good effect. I was informed that the whole of the
ornamental arrangement was designed by David.
From the courts of justice, I went to the second national library, which
is very noble and large, and has a valuable collection of books. Several
students were arranged with great silence and decorum, at long tables.
In one apartment is a very large, and ingenious model of Rome in a glass
case, and another of a frigate.
Upon leaving the library I proceeded to the Gobelins, so called from one
Gobel, a noted dyer at Rheims, who settled here in the reign of Francis
I. This beautiful manufactory has a crowd of visitors every day. Upon
the walls of the galleries the tapestry is suspended, which exhibits
very exquisite copies of various historical paintings, of which there
are some very costly and beautiful specimens. The artists work behind
the frame, where the original from which they copy is placed. The whole
is a very expensive national establishment, much of its production is
preserved for presents to foreign princes, and some of it is disposed of
by public sale.
Upon the comparison between the works of the Gobelins and the beautiful
works of Miss Linwood, I could not help feeling a little degree of pride
to observe that my ingenious countrywoman did not appear to suffer by
it. Too much praise cannot be bestowed upon the tasteful paintings of
her exquisite needle. This elegant minded woman has manifested by her
charming exhibition, that great genius is not always separated from
great labour, and unwearied perseverance.
From the Gobelins I visited the garden of plants, which is considered to
be the largest, and most valuable botanical collection in Europe, and
was founded by the celebrated Buffon. The garden is laid out into noble
walks, and beds containing the rarest plants from all parts of the
world, each of which is neatly labelled for the use of the students. On
the right of the entrance is a park containing all sorts of deer, and on
the left are vast hothouses and greenhouses; in the centre, enclosed in
iron lattice work, is a large pond for the reception of foreign aquatic
animals, very near which is a large octagon experimental beehive, about
ten feet high, and at the end, near the banks of the Seine, is a fine
menagerie, in which, amongst other beasts, there are some noble lions.
Many of the animals have separate houses, and gardens to range in.
Adjoining is the park of the elephant. This stupendous animal, from the
ample space in which he moves, is seen to great advantage, and is
considered to be the largest of his species in Europe. Near the
entrance, on the right, is the museum of natural curiosities, the
collection of which is very valuable, and admirably arranged. There is
here a fine giraffe, or camelopard, of an amazing height, stuffed. This
surprising animal is a native of Ethiopia, and some other parts of
Africa, and has scarcely ever been seen in Europe.
From the garden of plants, I made all possible dispatch to Madame
C----'s, in the Boulevard Italien, where I was engaged to dinner.
Upon crossing the Pont Neuf, where there are a number of little stalls
erected, the owners of which advertise upon little boards, which are
raised upon poles, that they possess extraordinary talents for shearing
dogs and cats; I could not help stopping and laughing most heartily to
observe the following address to the public from one of these canine and
grimalkin functionaries:
"Monin, tondit et coupe
les chiens la chatte
et sa femme----
vat en ville."
Which runs in this ridiculous manner in english:
"Monin shears and cuts
dogs and cats and his wife----
goes on errands."
As I had no time to return to my hotel to dress, I was initiated into a
mode of expeditiously equipping myself, by a young friend who was with
me, to which I was before a stranger, and which shows in the most
trifling matters, that the french are good adepts in expedition and
accommodation. In passing through the Palais Royal, we entered the
little shop of a boot cleaner. In a moment I was mounted upon a dirty
sopha, to which I ascended by steps, and from which I had a complete
commanding view of the concourse of gay people, who are always passing
and repassing in this idle place; the paper of the day, stretched upon a
little wooden frame was placed in my hand, each foot was fixed upon an
iron anvil, one man brushed off the dirt, and another put on a shining
blacking, a third brushed my clothes, and a fourth presented a basin of
water and towel to me. The whole of this comfortable operation lasted
about four minutes. My dirty valets made me a low bow for four sols,
which, poor as the recompense was, exceeded their expectations by three
pieces of that petty coin.
In the evening, I had the happiness of being introduced to Monsieur
S----. Under his noble and hospitable roof, amidst his affectionate,
beautiful, and accomplished family, and in the select circle of his
elegant and enlightened society, I passed many happy hours. Monsieur
S---- was of a noble family, and previous to the revolution was one of
the fermiers generaux, and possessed a very noble fortune. In
discharging the duties of his distinguished and lucrative office, he
conciliated the affections of every one, who had the good fortune to be
comprehended within the compass of his honourable authority, and when
the revolution stripped him of it, it found his integrity without a
stain, except what, in the bewildered interpretation of republican fury,
adhered to him from his connection with the old established order of
things. In the general, and undistinguishing cry for blood, which yelled
from the remorseless assassins of Robespierre, this admirable man was
consigned to a dungeon, and doomed to the scaffold. Two hours before he
was to suffer, the remembrance of the noble victim, and of a series of
favours, of kindness, and of generosity, flashed, with momentary but
irresistible compunction, upon the mind of one of his sanguinary judges,
who, suspending the bloody proceedings which then occupied the court,
implored the compassion of his fell associates. He pleaded until he had
obtained his discharge, and then at once forgetting the emotions of
mercy, which had inspired his tongue with the most persuasive eloquence,
he very composedly resumed the functions of his cruel occupation, and
consigned to the fatal instrument of revolutionary slaughter, other
beings, whose virtues were less renowned, or less fortunate in their
sphere of operation. Monsieur S---- had reached his sixty-eighth year,
but seemed to possess all the vivacity and health of youth. His lady was
a very amiable, and enlightened woman. Their family consisted of a son,
and three daughters, all of them handsome, and very highly accomplished.
The eldest, Madame E----, excelled in music; the second, Madame B----,
in poetry and the classics; and the youngest, Mademoiselle Delphine, in
drawing and singing. I shall, perhaps, be pardoned for introducing a
little impromptu compliment, which the pure, and unassuming merits of
the youngest of the family, drew from my pen, in consequence of the
conversation one evening, turning upon the indecorum of the tunic dress,
amongst the elegantes of Paris.
TO MADEMOISELLE D.S.
Whilst art array'd in _tunic_ robe,
Tries over fashion's gaudy globe,
To hold resistless force,
Thy merits shall impede her course,
For grace and nature gain in thee,
A chaste, decisive victory.
From the general wreck of property Monsieur S---- has been fortunate
enough to save a considerable portion of his former fortune. A similar
favourable circumstance has, in general, rewarded the fortitude and
constancy of those who, in the political storm, refused to seek a
dastard safety by flight. Influenced by the reputation of the integrity,
talents, and experience of Monsieur S----, the first consul has
deservedly placed him at the head of the national accounts, which he
manages with great advantage, and honour to the government. I was
pressed to make this charming house my home. Upon a noble terrace, which
communicated with the drawing room, and commanded a view of all the
gayety, and fashion of the Italien Boulevard, which moved below us, in
the circle of some of the most charming people of Paris, we used to
enjoy the refreshing coolness of the evening, the graceful
unpremeditated dance, or the sounds of enchanting music. In this happy
spot all parties assembled. Those who had been divided by the ferocity
of politics, here met in amiable intercourse. I have in the same room
observed, the once pursuing republican conqueror, in social converse
with the captive vendeean general, who had submitted to his prowess, and
to the government. The sword was not merely sheathed--it was _concealed_
in flowers. To please, and to be pleased; to charm, and to enlighten, by
interchanges of pleasantry, and politeness, and talents, and
acquirements, seemed alone to occupy the generous minds of this charming
society. The remembrance of the hours which I passed under this roof,
will afford my mind delight, as long as the faculty of memory remains,
or until high honour, and munificent hospitality have lost their value,
and genius and beauty, purity and elegance have no longer any
attractions.