_Paris, November 10, 1801._
On the evening of the 8th, there was a representation _gratis_ at all
the theatres, it being the eve of the great day, of the occurrences
of which I shall now, agreeably to my promise, endeavour to give you
a narrative. I mean the
NATIONAL FÉTE,
IN HONOUR OF PEACE,
_Celebrated on the 18th of Brumaire, year X_,
_the anniversary of_ BONAPARTE'S
_accession to the consulate_.
Notwithstanding the prayers which the Parisians had addressed to the
sun for the preceding twenty-four hours,
"----_Nocte pluit totà, redeunt spectacula mane_,"
it rained all night, and was still raining yesterday morning, when
the day was ushered in by discharges of artillery from the saluting
battery at the _Hôtel des Invalides_. This did not disturb me; I
slept soundly till, about eight o'clock, a tintamarre of trumpets,
kettle-drums, &c. almost directly under my window, roused me from my
peaceful slumber. For fear of losing the sight, I immediately
presented myself at the casement, just as I rose, in my shirt and
night-cap. The officers of the police, headed by the Prefect, and
escorted by a party of dragoons, came to the _Place des Victoires_,
as the third station, to give publicity, by word of mouth, to the
Proclamation of the Consuls, of which I inclose you a printed copy.
The civil officers were habited in their dresses of parade, and
decorated with tricoloured sashes; the heads of their steeds, which,
by the bye, were not of a fiery, mettlesome race, being adorned in
like manner.
This ceremony being over, I returned not to bed, but sat down to a
substantial breakfast, which I considered necessary for preparing my
strength for the great fatigues of so busy a day. Presently the
streets were crowded with people moving towards the river-side,
though small, but heavy rain continued falling all the forenoon. I
therefore remained at home, knowing that there was nothing yet to be
seen for which it was worth while to expose myself to a good wetting.
At two o'clock the sun appeared, as if to satisfy the eager desire of
the Parisians; the mist ceased, and the weather assumed a promising
aspect. In a moment the crowd in the streets was augmented by a
number of persons who had till now kept within doors, in readiness to
go out, like the Jews keeping Easter, _cincti renibus & comedentes
festinantur_. I also sallied forth, but alone, having previously
refused every invitation from my friends and acquaintance to place
myself at any window, or join any party, conceiving that the best
mode to follow the bent of my humour was to go unaccompanied, and,
not confining myself to any particular spot or person, stroll about
wherever the most interesting objects presented themselves.
With this view, I directed my steps towards the _Tuileries_, which,
in spite of the immense crowd, I reached without the smallest
inconvenience. The appearance of carriages of every kind had been
strictly prohibited, with the exception of those belonging to the
British ambassador; a compliment well intended, no doubt, and very
gratifying when the streets were so extremely dirty.
For some time I amused myself with surveying the different
countenances of the groups within immediate reach of my observation,
and which to me was by no means the least diverting part of the
scene; but on few of them could I discover any other impression than
that of curiosity: I then took my station in the garden of the
_Tuileries_, on the terrace next the river. Hence was a view of the
_Temple of Commerce_ rising above the water, on that part of the
Seine comprised between the _Pont National_ and the _Pont Neuf_. The
quays on each side were full of people; and the windows, as well as
the roofs of all the neighbouring houses, were crowded beyond
conception. In the newspapers, the sum of 500 francs, or £20
sterling, was asked for the hire of a single window of a house in
that quarter.
Previously to my arrival, a flotilla of boats, decked with streamers
and flags of different colours, had ascended the river from
_Chaillot_ to this temple, and were executing divers evolutions
around it, for the entertainment of the Parisians, who quite drowned
the music by their more noisy acclamations.
About half after three, the First Consul appeared at one of the
windows of the apartments of the Third Consul, LEBRUN, which, being
situated in the _Pavillon de Flore_, as it is called, at the south
end of the palace of the _Tuileries_, command a complete view of the
river. He and LEBRUN were both dressed in their consular uniform.
In a few minutes, a balloon, previously prepared at this floating
_Temple of Commerce_, and adorned with the flags of different
nations, ascended thence with majestic slowness, and presently took
an almost horizontal direction to the south-west. In the car attached
to it were Garnerin, the celebrated aëronaut, his wife, and two other
persons, who kept waving their tricoloured flags, but were soon under
the necessity of putting them away for a moment, and getting rid of
some of their ballast, in order to clear the steeples and other lofty
objects which appeared to lie in their route. The balloon, thus
lightened, rose above the grosser part of the atmosphere, but with
such little velocity as to afford the most gratifying spectacle to an
immense number of spectators.
While following it with my eyes, I began to draw comparisons in my
mind, and reflect on the rapid improvement made in these machines,
since I had seen Blanchard and his friend, Dr. Jefferies, leave Dover
Cliff in January 1785. They landed safely within a short distance of
Calais, as every one knows: yet few persons then conceived it
possible, or at least probable, that balloons could ever be applied
to any useful purpose, still less to the art of war. We find,
however, that at the battle of Fleurus, where the Austrians were
defeated, Jourdan, the French General, was not a little indebted for
his victory to the intelligence given him of the enemy's dispositions
by his aëronautic reconnoitring-party.
The sagacious Franklin seems to have had a presentiment of the future
utility of this invention. On the first experiments being made of it,
some one asked him: "Of what use are balloons?"--"Of what use is a
new-born child!" was the philosopher's answer.
Garnerin and his fellow-travellers being now at such a distance as
not to interest an observer unprovided with a telespope, I thought it
most prudent to gratify that ever-returning desire, which, according
to Dr. Johnson, excites once a day a serious idea in the mind even of
the most thoughtless. I accordingly retired to my own apartments,
where I had taken care that dinner should be provided for myself and
a friend, who, assenting to the propriety of allowing every man the
indulgence of his own caprice, had, like me, been taking a stroll
alone among the innumerable multitude of Paris.
After dinner, my friend and I sat chatting over our dessert, in order
that we might not arrive too soon at the scene of action. At six,
however, we rose from table, and separated. I immediately proceeded
to the _Tuileries_, which I entered by the centre gate of the _Place
du Carrousel_. The whole facade of the palace, from the base of the
lowest pillars up to the very turrets of the pavilions, comprising
the entablatures, &c. was decorated with thousands of _lampions_,
whence issued a steady, glaring light. By way of parenthesis, I must
inform you that these _lampions_ are nothing more than little
circular earthen pans, somewhat resembling those which are used in
England as receptacles for small flower-pots. They are not filled
with oil, but with a substance prepared from the offals of oxen and
in which a thick wick is previously placed. Although the body of
light proceeding from _lampions_ of this description braves the
weather, yet the smoke which they produce, is no inconsiderable
drawback on the effect of their splendour.
Nothing could exceed the brilliancy of the _coup d'oeil_ from the
vestibule of the palace of the _Tuileries_. The grand alley, as well
as the end of the parterre on each side and the edges of the basins,
was illuminated in a style equally tasteful and splendid. The
frame-work on which the lamps were disposed by millions, represented
lofty arcades of elegant proportion, with their several pillars,
cornices, and other suitable ornaments. The eye, astonished, though
not dazzled, penetrated through the garden, and, directed by this
avenue of light, embraced a view of the temporary obelisk erected
on the ridge of the gradual ascent, where stands the _Barrière de
Chaillot_; the road on each side of the _Champs Elysées_ presenting
an illuminated perspective, whose vanishing point was the obelisk
before-mentioned.
After loitering a short time to contemplate the west façade of the
palace, which, excelling that of the east in the richness of its
architecture, also excelled it in the splendour of its illuminations,
I advanced along the centre or grand alley to the _Place de la
Concorde_. Here, rose three _Temples_ of correct design and beautiful
symmetry, the most spacious of which, placed in the centre, was
dedicated to _Peace_, that on the right hand to the _Arts_, and that
on the left to _Industry_.
In front of these temples, was erected an extensive platform, about
five feet above the level of the ground, on which was exhibited a
pantomime, representing, as I was informed, the horrors of war
succeeded by the blessings of peace. Though I arrived in time to have
seen at least a part of it, I saw nothing, except the back of the
spectators immediately before me, and others, mounted on chairs and
benches, some of whom seemed to consider themselves fortunate if they
recovered their legs, when they came now and then to the ground, by
losing their equilibrium. These little accidents diverted me for the
moment; but a misadventure of a truly-comic nature afforded me more
entertainment than any pantomime I ever beheld, and amply consoled me
for being thus confined to the back-ground.
A lusty young Frenchman, who, from his head-dress _à la Titus_, I
shall distinguish by that name, escorting a lady whom, on account of
her beautiful hair, I shall style _Berenice_, stood on one of the
hindmost benches. The belle, habited in a tunic _à la Grecque_, with
a species of sandals which displayed the elegant form of her leg, was
unfortunately not of a stature sufficiently commanding to see over
the heads of the other spectators. It was to no purpose that the
gentleman called out "_à bas les chapeaux!_" When the hats were off,
the lady still saw no better. What will not gallantry suggest to a
man of fashionable education? Our considerate youth perceived, at no
great distance, some persons standing on a plank supported by a
couple of casks. Confiding the fair _Berenice_ to my care, he
vanished: but, almost in an, instant, he reappeared, followed by two
men, bearing an empty hogshead, which, it seems, he procured from the
tavern at the west entrance of the _Tuileries_. To place the cask
near the feet of the lady, pay for it, and fix her on it, was the
business of a moment. Here then she was, like a statue on its
pedestal, enjoying the double gratification of seeing and being seen.
But, for enjoyment to be complete, we must share it with those we
love. On examining the space where she stood, the lady saw there was
room for two, and accordingly invited the gentleman to place himself
beside her. In vain he resisted her entreaties; in vain he feared to
incommode her. She commanded; he could do no less than obey. Stepping
up on the bench, he thence nimbly sprang to the cask; but, O! fatal
catastrophe! while, by the light of the neighbouring clusters of
lamps, every one around was admiring the mutual attention of this
sympathizing pair, in went the head of the hogshead.
Our till-then-envied couple fell suddenly up to the middle of the leg
in the wine-lees left in the cask, by which they were bespattered up
to their very eyes. Nor was this all: being too eager to extricate
themselves, they overset the cask, and came to the ground, rolling in
it and its offensive contents. It would be no easy matter to picture
the ludicrous situation of Citizen _Titus_ and Madame _Berenice_.
This being the only mischief resulting from their fall, a universal
burst of laughter seized the surrounding spectators, in which I took
so considerable a share, that I could not immediately afford my
assistance.