_Civility of a Sentinel.--The Hall of the Legislative
Assembly.--British House of Commons.--Captain Bergevet.--The
Temple.--Sir Sydney Smith's Escape.--Colonel Phillipeaux._
One morning, as I was entering the grand court of the hall of the
Legislative Assembly, I was stopped by a sentry. I told him I was an
Englishman. He politely begged my pardon, and requested me to pass, and
called one of the housekeepers to show me the apartments.
This magnificent pile is in the Fauxbourg St. Germain, and was formerly
the palace of the Bourbons. After passing through a suite of splendid
apartments, I entered, through lofty folding doors, into the hall, where
the legislators assemble. It is a very spacious semicircular room, and
much resembles, in its arrangements the appearance of a splendid theatre
before the stage. The ascent to the seat of the president is by a flight
of light marble steps; the facing of his bureau is composed of the most
costly marble, richly carved. On each side of the president's chair are
seats for the secretaries; and immediately below them is the tribune,
into which the orator ascends to address the House. On each side of the
seat of the president are antique statues of eminent patriots and
orators, which are placed in niches in the wall. Under the tribune, upon
the centre of the floor, is the altar of the country, upon which, in
marble, is represented the book of the laws, resting upon branches of
olive. Behind it, upon semicircular seats, the legislators sit, at the
back of whom are the boxes of the embassadors, and officers of state,
and immediately above them, within a colonnade of corinthian pillars,
the public are admitted. Round the upper part of the cornice, a
beautiful festoon of lilac coloured cloth, looped up with rich tassels,
is suspended, for the purpose of correcting the vibration of the voice.
The whole is very superb, and has cost the nation an immense sum of
money. The principal housekeeper asked me "whether our speakers had such
a place to declaim in," I told him, "that we had very _great_ orators in
England, but that they were content to speak in very little places." He
laughed, and observed, "that frenchmen never talked to so much advantage
as when their eye was pleased."
This man I found had been formerly one of the door keepers of the
national assembly, and was present when, after having been impeached by
Billaud, Panis, and their colleagues, Tallien discharged the pistol at
Robespierre, whom he helped to support, until the monster was finally
dispatched by the guillotine, on the memorable 9th of Thermidor.
The french are amazingly fond of finery and stage effect. The solicitude
which always first manifested itself after any political change in the
course of the revolution, was the external decoration of each new puppet
who, arrayed in the brief authority of the fleeting moment, was
permitted to "play his fantastic tricks before high Heaven."
The poor battered ark of government was left overturned, under the
protection of an escort of assassins, in the ensanguined mud, upon the
reeking bodies of its former, headless, bearers, until its new
supporters had adjusted the rival pretensions of silk and satin, and had
consulted the pattern book of the laceman in the choice of their
embroidery. On one side of the arch which leads into the antiroom of the
legislative assembly, are suspended patterns and designs for tickets of
admission to the sitting, elegantly framed, and near the same place, in
a long gallery which leads to the dressing-rooms of the legislators, are
boxes which contain the senatorial robes of the members. The meetings of
our house of commons would inspire more awe, and veneration, if more
attention was paid to decorum, and external decoration. A dignified and
manly magnificence would not be unsuitable to the proceedings of the
sanctuary of british laws, and the seat of unrivalled eloquence. What
would a perfumed french legislator say, accustomed to rise in the
rustling of embroidered silks, and gracefully holding in his hand, a cap
of soft and showy plumes, to address himself to alabaster statues,
glittering lustres, grecian chairs, festoons of drapery, and an audience
of beings tricked out as fine as himself, were he to be suddenly
transported into a poor and paltry room, meanly lighted, badly
ventilated, and inconveniently arranged, and to be told that, in that
spot, the representatives of the first nation in the world, legislated
for her subjects? What would he say, were he to see and hear in the mean
attire of jockeys and mechanics, such orators as Greece and Rome never
saw or heard in the days of their most exalted glory; unfolding with the
penetration of a subordinate Providence, the machinations of a dark and
deep conspiracy, erecting elaborate laws to shelter the good, against
the enemies of repose, or hurling the thunder of their eloquence against
the common foes of their country. The astonished frenchman would very
likely say, "I always thought that the english were a strange set of
beings, but they now exceed the powers of my comprehension, they can
elicit wit in the midst of gloom, and can say such things in a plain
unbrushed coat of _blue_ cloth, as all the robes, plumes, and finery of
the republic, in her gaudy halls of deliberation, cannot inspire."
From the legislative assembly I went to pay my respects to the gallant
captain Bergeret, to whom I had letters of introduction. It will be
immediately remembered, that this distinguished hero, in the Virginie,
displayed the most undaunted courage, when she was engaged by sir Edward
Pellew, in the Indefatigable, to whose superior prowess and naval
knowledge, he was obliged to strike the tricolour flag. His bravery and
integrity have justly entitled him to the admiration and lasting
friendship of his noble conqueror, and to the esteem of the british
nation. When sir Sidney Smith was confined in the Temple, and captain
Bergeret a prisoner in England, the latter was sent to France upon his
parole, to endeavour to effect the exchange of sir Sidney. The french
government, which was then under the direction of some of the basest and
meanest of her tyrants, refused to listen to the proposal; and at the
same time resisted the return of their own countryman.
The gallant Bergeret was resolved to preserve his word of honour
unsullied, or to perish in the attempt. Finding all his efforts to
obtain the liberation of the illustrious captive unavailing, menaced
with death if he departed, and invited by promised command and promotion
if he remained, he contrived to quit his own country by stealth, and
returned a voluntary exile to his generous and confiding conquerors.
From captain B----'s hotel I went to the Temple, so celebrated in the
gloomy history of the revolution. It stands in the Rue du Temple, in the
Fauxbourg of that name. The entrance is handsome, and does not much
impress the idea of the approach to a place of such confinement. Over
the gates is a pole, supporting a dirty and tattered bonnet rouge, of
which species of republican decoration there are very few now to be seen
in Paris. The door was opened to me by the principal gaoler, whose
predecessor had been dismissed on account of his imputed connivance in
the escape of sir Sidney Smith. His appearance seemed fully to qualify
him for his savage office, and to insure his superiors against all
future apprehension, of a remission of duty by any act of humanity,
feeling, or commiseration. He told me, that he could not permit me to
advance beyond the lodge, on account of a peremptory order which he had
just received from government. From this place I had a full command of
the walk and prison, the latter of which is situated in the centre of
the walls. He pointed out to me the window of the room in which the
royal sufferers languished. As the story of sir Sidney Smith's escape
from this prison has been involved in some ambiguity, a short recital of
it will, perhaps, not prove uninteresting.
After several months had rolled away, since the gates of his prison had
first closed upon the british hero, he observed that a lady who lived in
an upper apartment on the opposite side of the street, seemed frequently
to look towards that part of the prison in which he was confined. As
often as he observed her, he played some tender air upon his flute, by
which, and by imitating every motion which she made, he at length
succeeded in fixing her attention upon him, and had the happiness of
remarking that she occasionally observed him with a glass. One morning
when he saw that she was looking attentively upon him in this manner, he
tore a blank leaf from an old mass book which was lying in his cell, and
with the soot of the chimney, contrived, by his finger, to describe upon
it, in a large character, the letter A, which he held to the window to
be viewed by his fair sympathizing observer. After gazing upon it for
some little time, she nodded, to show that she understood what he meant,
sir Sidney then touched the top of the first bar of the grating of his
window, which he wished her to consider as the representative of the
letter A, the second B, and so on, until he had formed, from the top of
the bars, a corresponding number of letters; and by touching the middle,
and bottom parts of them, upon a line with each other, he easily, after
having inculcated the first impression of his wishes, completed a
telegraphic alphabet. The process of communication was, from its nature,
very slow, but sir Sidney had the happiness of observing, upon forming
the first word, that this excellent being, who beamed before him like a
guardian angel, seemed completely to comprehend it, which she expressed
by an assenting movement of the head. Frequently obliged to desist from
this tacit and tedious intercourse, from the dread of exciting the
curiosity of the gaolers, or his fellow prisoners, who were permitted to
walk before his window, sir Sidney occupied several days in
communicating to his unknown friend, his name and quality, and imploring
her to procure some unsuspected royalist of consequence and address
sufficient for the undertaking, to effect his escape; in the achievement
of which he assured her, upon his word of honour, that whatever cost
might be incurred, would be amply reimbursed, and that the bounty and
gratitude of his country would nobly remunerate those who had the
talent, and bravery to accomplish it. By the same means he enabled her
to draw confidential and accredited bills, for considerable sums of
money, for the promotion of the scheme, which she applied with the most
perfect integrity. Colonel Phelipeaux was at this time at Paris; a
military man of rank, and a secret royalist, most devoutly attached to
the fortunes of the exiled family of France, and to those who supported
their cause. He had been long endeavouring to bring to maturity, a plan
for facilitating their restoration, but which the loyal adherent, from a
series of untoward and uncontrollable circumstances, began to despair of
accomplishing. The lovely deliverer of sir Sidney, applied to this
distinguished character, to whom she was known, and stated the singular
correspondence which had taken place between herself and the heroic
captive in the Temple. Phelipeaux, who was acquainted with the fame of
sir Sidney, and chagrined at the failure of his former favourite scheme,
embraced the present project with a sort of prophetic enthusiasm, by
which he hoped to restore, to the british nation, one of her greatest
heroes, who, by his skill and valour, might once more impress the common
enemy with dismay, augment the glory of his country, and cover himself
with the laurels of future victory. Intelligent, active, cool, daring,
and insinuating, colonel Phelipeaux immediately applied himself to bring
to maturity, a plan at once suitable to his genius, and interesting to
his wishes. To those whom it was necessary to employ upon the occasion,
he contrived to unite one of the clerks of the minister of the police,
who forged his signature with exact imitation, to an order for removing
the body of sir Sidney, from the Temple to the prison of the
Conciergerie: after this was accomplished, on the day after that on
which the inspector of gaols was to visit the Temple and Conciergerie, a
ceremony, which is performed once a month in Paris, two gentlemen of
tried courage and address, who were previously instructed by colonel
Phelipeaux, disguised as officers of the marechaussee, presented
themselves in a fiacre at the Temple, and demanded the delivery of sir
Sidney, at the same time showing the forged order for his removal. This
the gaoler attentively perused and examined, as well as the minister's
signature. Soon after the register of the prison informed sir Sidney of
the order of the directory, upon hearing which, he at first appeared to
be a little disconcerted, upon which the pseudoofficers gave him every
assurance of the honour and mild intentions of the government towards
him, sir Sidney seemed more reconciled, packed up his clothes, took
leave of his fellow prisoners, and distributed little tokens of his
gratitude to those servants of the prison, from whom he had experienced
indulgencies. Upon the eve of their departure, the register observed,
that four of the prison guard should accompany them. This arrangement
menaced the whole plan with immediate dissolution. The officers, without
betraying the least emotion, acquiesced in the propriety of the measure,
and gave orders for the men to be called out, when, as if recollecting
the rank and honour of their illustrious prisoner, one of them addressed
sir Sidney, by saying, "citizen, you are a brave officer, give us your
parole, and there is no occasion for an escort." Sir Sidney replied,
that he would pledge his faith, as an officer, to accompany them,
without resistance, wherever they chose to conduct him.
Not a look or movement betrayed the intention of the party. Every thing
was cool, well-timed, and natural. They entered a fiacre, which, as is
usual, was brought for the purpose of removing him, in which he found
changes of clothes, false passports, and money. The coach moved with an
accustomed pace, to the Faubourg St. Germain, where they alighted, and
parted in different directions. Sir Sidney met colonel Phelipeaux at the
appointed spot of rendezvous.
The project was so ably planned and conducted, that no one but the party
concerned was acquainted with the escape, until near a month had
elapsed, when the inspector paid his next periodical visit. What pen can
describe the sensations of two such men as sir Sidney and Phelipeaux,
when they first beheld each other in safety? Heaven befriended the
generous and gallant exploit. Sir Sidney and his noble friend, reached
the french coast wholly unsuspected, and committing themselves to their
God, and to the protective genius of brave men, put to sea in an open
boat, and were soon afterwards discovered by an english cruising
frigate, and brought in safety to the british shores.
The gallant Phelipeaux soon afterwards accompanied sir Sidney in the
Tigre to Acre, where, overwhelmed by the fatigue of that extraordinary
campaign, in which he supported a distinguished part, and the noxious
influence of a sultry climate, operating upon a delicate frame, he
expired in the arms of his illustrious friend, who attended him to his
grave, and shed the tears of gratitude and friendship over his honoured
and lamented obsequies. But ere the dying Phelipeaux closed his eyes, he
received the rewards of his generous enterprise. He beheld the repulsed
legions of the republic, flying before the british banners, and the
irresistible prowess of his valiant companion; he beheld the
distinguished being, whom he had thus rescued from a dungeon, and
impending destruction, by an act of almost romantic heroism, covered
with the unparticipated glory, of having overpowered a leader, who,
renowned, and long accustomed to conquest, saw, for the first time, his
_invincible troops_ give way; who, inflamed to desperation, deemed the
perilous exposure of his person necessary, to rally them to the contest,
over bridges of their slaughtered comrades, but who at length was
obliged to retire from the field of battle, and to leave to the heroic
sir Sidney, the exclusive exultation of announcing to his grateful and
elated country, that he had fought, and vanquished the laurelled
conqueror of Italy, and the bold invader of Egypt.
Sir Sidney has no vices to conceal behind his spreading and imperishable
laurels. His public character is before the approving world. That peace
which his sword has accelerated, has afforded us an undisturbed
opportunity of admiring his achievements in the field, and of
contemplating his conduct in the retired avenues of private life, in
which his deportment is without a stain. In him there is every thing to
applaud, and nothing to forgive.
Yet thus glorious in public, and thus unsullied in private, the
conqueror of Bonaparte, and the saviour of the east, owes the honours,
_which he adorns_, to foreign and distant powers.
To the _grateful_ government of his own country, he is indebted for an
ungracious paltry annuity, inadequate to the display of ordinary
consequence, and wholly unequal to the suitable support of that dignity,
which ought for ever to distinguish such a being from the mass of
mankind.
The enemies of sir Sidney, for envy furnishes every great man with his
quota of such indirect eulogists, if they should honour these pages with
a perusal, may, perchance, endeavour to trace the approving warmth with
which I have spoken of him, to the enthusiasm of a friendship dazzled,
and undiscriminating; but I beg to assure them, that the fame of sir
Sidney is better known to me than his person, and that his noble
qualities have alone excited the humble tribute which is here offered
to one, for whom delighted Nature, in the language of our immortal bard,
"--------------------------------might stand up,
and say to all the world, this _is_ a man----"