_Bonaparte's Talents in Finance.--Garrick and the Madman.--Palace
of the Conservative Senate.--Process of transferring Oil Paintings
from Wood to Canvas.--The Dinner Knife.--Commodities.--Hall of the
National Convention.--The Minister Talleyrand's Levee._
The first consul is said to add to his other extraordinary powers, an
acute and comprehensive knowledge of finance. Monsieur S---- informed
me, that whenever he waited upon him in his official capacity, with the
national accounts, he displayed an acquaintance with the most
complicated statements, which seemed intuitive.
He exhibits the same talents in philosophy, and in matters which are
foreign to those vast objects of public employ, which have raised him to
his present height of glory, and which in general preclude the
subordinate enjoyment of elegant study.
Those acquirements, which providence in its wisdom has thinly scattered
amongst mankind, and which seldom ripen to full maturity, although
cherished by the most propitious advantages, and by the unreposing
labours of a long, and blissful existence, spread their rich abundance,
in the May morning of life, before this extraordinary being, who in the
commencement of that very revolution, upon the ruins of which he has
stepped to supreme authority, was a beardless stripling.
From the great performers upon the public stage of life, our
conversation, one evening, at Madame S----'s, by a natural transition,
embraced a review of the wonderful talents, which have at various times
adorned the lesser drama of the theatre. Madame S---- made some
judicious remarks upon the french players of distinction, to all of whom
she imputed a manner, and enunciation which have been imbibed in a
school, in which nature has not been permitted to preside. Their
tragedy, she said, was inflated with too much pomp, and their elegant
comedy suffered by too volatile an airiness. She bestowed upon our
immortal Garrick, the most decided preference, and superiority to any
actor whom she had ever seen. The opportunity which she had of judging
of his powers, was short, and singular, but fully enabled her to form a
decisive opinion. When Garrick visited Paris for the last time, she was
just married. This celebrated actor had letters of introduction to
Monsieur S----. At a large party, which Monsieur S---- formed for the
purpose of doing honour to his distinguished visitor, he exhibited
several specimens of his unrivalled talents. Amongst others, he
represented in dumb show, by the wonderful powers of his expressive
countenance, the feelings of a father, who in looking over a lofty
balcony with his only child in his arms, by accident dropped it. The
disaster drove the unhappy parent mad. Garrick had visited him in his
cell; where the miserable maniac was accustomed, several times in the
course of the day, to exhibit all those looks and attitudes which he
had displayed at the balcony[9]. On a sudden he would bend himself
forward, as if looking from a window into the street, with his arms
folded as if they embraced a child, then he would start back, and appear
as if he had lost something, search the room round and round, run again
forward, as to the railing of a window, look down, and beat his
forehead, as if he had beheld his infant bleeding, and breathless upon
the pavement. Garrick's imitation was exquisite. The feelings of his
beholders were wrought up to horror. The tears, and consternation of a
gay fashionable french party, were applauses more flattering to the
british Roscius, than the thunder of that acclamation, which, in the
crowded theatre, followed the flash of his fiery eye, or the close of
his appalling speech.
[9] The cause which induced Garrick to visit this unhappy person was, it
is said, to render the representation of his King Lear more perfect.
The english drama, however, has not escaped the animadversions of a
french critic, whose taste and liberality are not very congenial with
those of my charming, and generous friend. "Their tragedies," he says,
(speaking of the english) "it is true, though interesting, and replete
with beauties, are nevertheless dramatic monsters, half _butchery_, and
half _farce_. Grotesque characters, and extravagant pleasantry
constitute the chief part of their comedies. In one of them, (not named)
the devil enters sneezing, and somebody says to the devil, _God bless
you_. They are not, however, all of this stamp. They have _even some_ in
very good taste."
Yes, Monsieur Dourx, I agree with you, I think we have _some_ in very
good taste. I know not in what dramatic work the facetious frenchman has
discovered the introduction of his satanic majesty under the influence
of a cold, and receiving, as he enters, the usual deprecation on such
occasions. I rather suspect that the adventures of Punch, and his fickle
lady, who are always attended by a dancing demon, have afforded the
materials for this sapient observation.
In the course of one of my morning rambles in Paris, I visited the ruins
of the celebrated Bastille, of which prison, only the arsenal, some
fragments of its massy walls, and two or three dungeons remain. The
volcanic vengeance of the people, has swept away this mighty fabric,
which the revolting mind of republican liberty denounced as the
frightful den of despotism, upon the approach to which no marks of
returning footsteps were imprinted, whilst, in her mad career, she
converted every private dwelling in the metropolis into a revolutionary
prison: So much for popular consistency!
In the mutations of time, to what different purposes are the same places
applied! Where the consuming martyr expired[10], the unwieldy prize hog
is exposed to sale; and the modern parisian derives the sources of
warmth and comfort, from a place, the very name of which, once _chilled_
the circulation of his blood. The site of the Bastille is now a magazine
of wood, which supplies the city with fuel.
[10] Smithfield.
Every lover of pure liberty must leap with delight upon the
disincumbered earth, where once stood that gloomy abode of "broken
hearts," and reflect upon the sufferings of the wretched Latude, and the
various victims of capricious pique, or prostitute resentment. It was
here that, in the beautiful lines of Cowper, the hopeless prisoner was
doomed
"To fly for refuge from distracting thought
To such amusements as ingenious woe
Contrives, hard shifting, and without her tools--
To read, engraven on the mouldy walls,
In stagg'ring types, his predecessor's tale,
A sad memorial, and subjoin his own--
To turn purveyor to an overgorg'd
And bloated spider, till the pamper'd pest
Is made familiar, watches his approach,
Comes at his call, and serves him for a friend--"
The cells of the Bastille were constantly filled, during the syren reign
of la Pompadour over the gloomy affections of Lewis the XVth.
The overthrow of this dungeon has not rendered state prisons out of
fashion in the republic, although it has mitigated the severity of their
internal government. The towers of the Temple, look down upon the
prostrate ruins of the Bastille.
From this memorable spot of ground, I went to the Observatory. In the
rooms, which open upon an artificial terrace, were some prodigious
astronomical apparatus. A very ingenious frame was then constructing,
for elevating, or depressing the astronomer, and the telescope at the
same time, by an easy, and simple process of machinery. The Observatory
is a noble building, and contains libraries, students rooms, and
apartments for the various artificers, and machinists who are occupied
in fabricating the apparatus, and instruments necessary to the science
of astronomy. From the exterior of the dome, there is a fine view of the
city, suburbs, and country.
From the Observatory, I visited the Conservative Senate, formerly the
Palace of the Luxembourg. The back of this beautiful building is in the
Rue de Vaugirand, in the Fauxbourg of St. Germains. The gardens of this
noble pile, are receiving great improvement, and alteration, from
designs which have been approved of by the first consul, who in his wise
policy, intends that they shall, in time, rival those of the
Thuilleries, for the purpose of affording an elegant, and fashionable
promenade to the people who reside in this part of the capital, who are
considerably removed from the beautiful walks which adorn the consular
palace. Here I saw the Hall of Deliberation, in which the Conservative
Senate assembles. It is nothing more than a large, handsome
drawing-room, in which are placed, upon rising platforms, sixty armed
chairs, for so many members, the chair of the president, and the
tribune. This magnificent palace is repairing, and fitting up for the
residence, and accommodation of its members. I was introduced to the
artist who has the care of the gallery here, and who, with his
assistants, was very busily occupied in a process for removing the oil
colours of a painting from wood, and transferring them to canvas. He
received me with great politeness, and explained to me the mode of doing
it, in which there appeared to be more toil, nicety, and steadiness
required, than ingenuity.
The painting is laid upon a cloth stretched upon a marble slab, and the
wood behind is shaved off until nothing but the picture, like a flat
cake, or rather a sheet of goldbeater's skin, remains, a piece of canvas
coated with a cement is then placed upon it, to which it adheres, and
presents all the appearance of having been originally painted upon it.
The pictures from the subject of St. Bruno, were then undergoing this
operation.
The apartments in which these people were at work, presented very
convincing indications of the mutability of human ambition.
This palace was allotted to the celebrated Council of Five Hundred.
During their ephemeral reign, these very rooms were designed for their
halls of audience, and levees, the rich mouldings, and cornices of which
were half gilt, and covered with silver paper to preserve them: the poor
council were never indulged in a house warming.
The pictures, which were collected by Henry IV, and deposited in the
gallery there, which bears his name, are said to be valuable. I did not
see them, on account of their having been removed into store rooms
during the repairs of the palace.
It was late when I left the Luxembourg, and somewhat exhausted for want
of refreshment, I determined upon dining at the first restaurateur's
which I could meet with, instead of going to the Gardens of the
Thuilleries. To find such an accommodation in Paris, is no difficult
thing. A stranger would naturally suppose, from the frequency with which
the words caffé, limonade, and restaurateur present themselves to the
eye, that three parts of the inhabitants had turned their talents to the
valuable study of relieving the cravings of an empty stomach.
I had not moved three yards down the Rue de Tournon, before, on my left,
I saw the welcome board which, in large golden characters, announced the
very best entertainment within. At this moment, the celebrated picture
of the banquet in the Louvre, could scarcely have afforded me more
delight. I had an excellent dinner, wine, and fruit for four livres. In
the course of my repast, I begged that a knife, might be permitted to
aid the services of a three pronged silver fork, which graced my plate
on the left. After rather a laborious search, my wishes were gratified
by an instrument, which certainly was entitled to the name of one, but
was assuredly not the handsomest of its species. Whether there had been
any dispute between the handle, and the blade, I know not, but there
were very evident appearances of an approaching separation. Not wishing
to augment the rupture, between two personages so necessary to each
others service, and to those who were to be benefitted by it, I begged
of my fair hostess, who, with two pretty girls (her daughters), were
picking the stalks from some strawberries, which were intended for my
desert, at the other end of the room, that she would favour me with
another knife. The maitresse d'hôtel, who had a pair of fine dark
expressive eyes, very archly said, "Why would you wish to change it,
Sir? it is an english one." It certainly looked like one; no compliment
could be neater. Whether I gave it too great a latitude of
interpretation, I will not pretend to say, but it led me into such a
train of happy _comparative thinking_, that I ate my dinner with it very
comfortably, without saying another word. I have since thought, that the
maitresse d'hôtel had not another knife in her house, but what was in
use.
In France, I have before had occasion to remark, that fanciful notions
of excessive delicacy, are not permitted to interfere with comfort, and
convenience. Amongst these people, every thing turns upon the principle
of accommodation. To this motive I attribute the frequent exhibition,
over the doors of respectable looking houses, in the fashionable walks,
and in different parts of Paris, of the following characters,
"Commodités pour Hommes, et Femmes." An english prude would start to
read these words. I mention this circumstance, for the purpose of
communicating some idea of the people, convinced, as I well am, that it
is only by detail, that we can become acquainted with the peculiar
characteristics of any community.
I very often passed by the ci-devant Hall of the National Convention; in
which the hapless king and queen were doomed to the scaffold, where
murder was legitimated, religion denounced, and the grave declared to be
the bed of _eternal repose_.
In vindication of the ways of eternal justice, even upon earth, this
polluted pile is participating the fate of its devoted members.
Those walls which once resounded with the florid, heightened declamation
of republican visionaries, the most worthless, imposing, and desperate
of mankind, are prevented, for a short time, by a few crazy props, from
covering the earth below with their dust and ruins. The famed temple of
the Goddess of Liberty, is not tenantable enough to cover the Babel
Deity from the peltings of the midnight storm.
Where is now the enthusiastic Gironde, where the volcanic mountain, the
fiery, and eloquent Mirabeau, the wily Brissot, the atheistic Lequinios,
the remorseless Marat, the bloody St. Just, and the chief of the
deplumed and fallen legions of equality? All is desolate and silent. The
gaping planks of the guillotine are imbued with their last traces. The
haunt of the banditti is uncovered. The revolution has preyed upon her
own children, and metaphysical murderers have perished by the daggers of
speculative republicans.
About two years since this place was converted into a ménagerie. The
cave, and the wilderness, the desert, and the jungle, presented to the
eye of the beholder, representative successors of those savages who,
with more powers and more ferocity, were once enclosed within the same
den. From the remembrance of such miscreants, I turn, with increased
satisfaction, to the traces of approaching civilization, which mark the
career of the present government, in which the want of suitable
splendour no longer repels the approach and friendship of those nations
which once shuddered at the idea of coming into contact with the
infected rags of visionary fraternity. Some indications of this change I
saw pourtrayed at the levee of Monsieur Talleyrand, the minister of
foreign relations, when I had the honour of being presented to that able
and celebrated politician by Mr. B. The hotel of Talleyrand is very
superb. We entered the court yard through two lines of about twenty
carriages in waiting. Under the portico, were several turks seated, who
formed a part of the suite of the turkish embassador, who had just
arrived, and was then closetted with Monsieur T----.
We passed through several noble apartments, preceded by servants, to a
magnificent levee room, in which we met most of the foreign embassadors
who were then at the consular court.
After waiting some time, the folding doors of the cabinet opened, the
turkish embassy came out, making their grand salams, followed by
Talleyrand, in his rich costume of embroidered scarlet, his hair full
dressed, and a shining sabre by his side.
In his person, he is small and thin, his face is "pale and penetrating."
He always looks obliquely, his small quick eyes and features, very
legibly express mildness, wit, and subtilty. His right leg appears
contracted. His address is insinuating. As the spirit of aggrandizement,
which is said to have actuated the public and private conduct of
Monsieur T----has been so much talked of, it may, perhaps, excite some
surprise, when it is mentioned that several persons who know him well,
some of whom esteem him, and with some of whom he is not a favourite,
declare, notwithstanding the anecdotes related of X Y, and Monsieur
Beaucoup d'Argent, in the american prints, that they consider him to be
a man, whose mind is raised above the influence of corruption. Monsieur
T----may be classed amongst the rarest curiosities in the revolutionary
cabinet. Allied by an illustrious ancestry to the Bourbons, and a
royalist from his birth, he was, with unusual celerity, invested with
the episcopal robe and crosier[11]. During the temporary triumph of the
abstract rights of man, over the practicable rights of reason, he moved
with the boisterous cavalcade, with more caution than enthusiasm. Upon
the celebrated national recognition of the sovereignty of man's _will_,
in the Champs de Mars, the politic minister, adorned in snowy robes, and
tricolor ribands, presided at the altar of the republic as its high
priest, and bestowed his patriarchal benedictions upon the standard of
France, and the banners of her departments.
[11] Monsieur Talleyrand is ex-bishop of Autun.
Some time afterwards, in the shape of a secret unaccredited negotiator,
he was discovered in the metropolis of England, and immediately
transferred, upon the spread wings of the alien bill, to his own shores.
Since that period, after having dissociated and neutralized the most
formidable foes of his country, by the subtle stratagems of his
consummate diplomacy, we beheld him as the successor of la Croix, armed
with the powers, and clothed in the gaudy costume of the minister of
foreign relations. In the _polished Babel_ of the antichamber of this
extraordinary man, I have beheld the starred and glittering
representatives of the most distinguished princes of the earth waiting
for hours, with exemplary resignation, contemplating themselves, in all
their positions, in his reduplicating mirrors, or examining the
splendour and exquisite ingenuity of his time pieces, until the silver
sound of his little bell announced, that the invoked and lagging moment
of ministerial leisure was arrived.
It is certain that few people possess the valuable qualities of
imperturbable calmness and self possession, more than Monsieur T----.
Balanced by these amiable and valuable qualities, he has been enabled to
ride the political whirlwind, and in the diplomatic cabinet, to collect
some advantage from the prejudices or passions of all who approached
him. The caution and cunning of T---- have succeeded, where the sword
and impetuous spirit of Bonaparte would have been unavailing. The
splendour of his apartments, and of many of the personages present,
displayed a very courtlike appearance, and inclined a stranger, like
myself, to think, that nothing of the old government was missing, but
the expatriated family of France.