[Sidenote: OVERTHROW OF INSTITUTIONS]
The French Revolution wrought as much harm to the cause of humanity as
to letters, science, and art. I have, it is true, described certain
brilliant institutions which the present Government has created, but
they form the least substantial part of social order, and are in a
sense but the holiday suit of the Republic.
It would be as wrong to judge the French nation by this splendid
exterior as of a private family by the same rule. To form a correct
judgment of the character of a man we should enter his dwelling, see
him as a parent, husband or friend, and examine his domestic economy.
To contemplate him driving in a chariot, and surrounded by glittering
attendants, would give us no idea of his real situation.
Much as we may admire establishments which ornament and serve a nation,
if haggard poverty and distress meet the eye at every turn we cannot
but infer that the nation in which such things prevail has mistaken the
true road to grandeur and public felicity.
I speak with regret, and without prejudice or passion, when I affirm
that this is the case with the French Republic. They overthrew all
their ancient national charitable establishments, and by so doing
exposed a great portion of the community to misery and want. They
destroyed wholesome institutions without making any provision for
supplying their absence. They suppressed convents and monasteries under
many pleas, the most specious of which was that they would put an end
to mendicity by striking at indiscriminate charity, which was, they
maintained, the root of indolence. The principle was good, but it was
applied in an entirely unjustifiable manner. Those who formerly aided
the poor and wretched were themselves driven to mendicity, and the
poor, the ailing, the afflicted were left even without the hope of a
resource.
Sensible of the alarming effect of these evils, which in a land
where the sources of industry have been suspended for ten years, are
absolutely terrific, the French Government and some worthy and humane
private individuals have, during the last few months, seriously devoted
their attention to the means of eradicating them.
So far the state of public finance has not admitted of the permanent
establishment of any asylums for the deserving poor. A few which had
been anciently endowed are still poorly maintained at the public
expense, but the mass of the nation is without any provision whatever
for the miserable.
There is, however, one happy exception. The Hospital of the Invalides
retains its ancient excellence and lustre.
This institution, the illustrious monument of the gratitude of a Prince
towards a people devotedly attached to him, is appropriated to such
superannuated or wounded soldiers no longer fit for service. It will
contain 5000 individuals, supported, clothed and fed at the expense of
the nation. There are four large halls where they assemble to dinner;
it was the wish of Louis XIV. that the aged or wounded warrior should
_live well_ during the remainder of his days. Therefore their
daily allowance, besides an excellent dinner, at which there was always
a _bouillie_ (or good meat soup), was a pound and a half of bread
and a quart of wine. This allowance is still continued.
[Sidenote: INTERIOR OF THE INVALIDES]
The edifice consists of fine courts, and a magnificent saloon called
the Temple of Mars, in which are suspended as trophies all the
standards taken during the late war. The dome that surmounts the centre
of this Temple, 300 feet in elevation from the level of the ground and
50 feet in diameter, is a masterpiece of architecture; the cupola is
decorated with paintings by Charles de la Fosse.
Four beautiful paintings represent the four quarters of the globe, and
there is also a huge canvas upon which David has portrayed the triumph
of man over religion and royalty. The Devil himself could not have
executed a more infernal picture than is this work of the national
painter (Member of the Institute). Man, displayed as a gigantic
figure (stark naked), tramples on kings, priests, crowns, sceptres,
crosses and rosaries; in one hand he holds a flaming torch, in the
other a sword. The Goddess of Reason, tutelary genius of the Republic,
majestically arrayed, smiles over her votary’s triumph. A multitude
of other similar characters fill up the hellish group, and complete a
picture of horror and iniquity.
By what fatal perversion of human nature, a temple, consecrated
to valour, patriotism and merit, should have been selected as the
depository of such a vicious production, I know not. But I declare I
felt petrified with horror when I gazed upon it. It is strange that the
rulers of France should have not already banished from the public gaze
such a sign of their past apostasy and hatred for that religion they
have lately found it convenient to once more profess.
To an Englishman who views the trophies which adorn this hall there
is a reason for feelings of patriotic exultation. The banners of
almost every European nation weep over the disasters of the valorous
defenders. But only one solitary standard of Great Britain confesses to
the chances of war.
All the plans of Vauban,[1] in relievo, of the different docks,
harbours and fortifications of France were preserved here. They have
now been removed to the Bureau of the Minister of War. It was from a
cabinet in the Hôtel des Invalides, containing an excellent collection
of military books and also plans for subjugating Egypt, conceived
under the reign of Louis XIV., and which had lain there for whole
generations untouched but not forgotten, that the Council of War
procured the information which enabled Bonaparte to invade Egypt--an
invasion he accomplished with the most marvellous secrecy and celerity.
This invasion, I know from the highest authority and those who are
most intimately acquainted with him, he will again attempt whenever
circumstances prove favourable to his enterprise.
The monument formerly erected at St. Denis to Marshal Turenne, which
was saved from the Revolutionary vandals by Monsieur Lenoir, almost at
the risk of his life, has been removed from the Museum, where it was at
first placed, to the Temple of Mars in this Hospital, where it is now
to be seen.
By a decree of the First Consul on the 1st of Vendemaire year 9, the
body of Turenne,[1] which had been preserved by Lenoir in a secret
tomb, was transported with great funeral pomp to the Invalides, where
it was once more deposited in its ancient receptacle.
The car on which the body was laid was drawn by four general officers
of the Republic; on arriving at the Invalides it was received by a
salvo of artillery, after which Carnot, the Minister of War, pronounced
the following funeral oration:
“Citizens! behold the body of Turenne the Great--a warrior dear to
every Frenchman, a man whose name excites emotion in every virtuous
bosom, and who should be to after ages a model of heroes!
“To-morrow we celebrate the foundation of the Republic. Let us
initiate that festival by the apotheosis of all that is praiseworthy
and illustrious in the past. This temple is allotted to all those
who, in every age past and present, have displayed virtues worthy of
the nation. Henceforward, O Turenne! thy manes shall dwell within
these walls--they shall become naturalised among the founders of the
Republic!
[Sidenote: CARNOT’S PANEGYRIC OF TURENNE]
“It is a sublime idea to place the mortal remains of a hero in the
midst of warriors who trod in his steps. To the brave belong the ashes
of the brave. After the death of a warrior, his remains have a right to
be preserved under the safeguard of the warriors who survive him--to
partake with them the asylum consecrated to glory.
“Praise be to the Government which strives to pay the debt of gratitude
to former benefactors!
“Praise be to the chiefs of a warlike nation who are not ashamed to
invoke the shade of Turenne!
“Turenne lived in an age wherein prejudice placed imaginary
distinctions of rank above signal services. But in him noble rank
disappeared before that conferred by his victories. France, Italy,
Germany re-echoed with his triumphs, and the sublime eulogy pronounced
after his death by Monticuculi was the true description of his virtues:
_A man is dead who was an honour to human nature!_
“Ah! what more glorious title can I add to that of ‘Father,’ conferred
on Turenne by his soldiers during his whole life?
“On the plains of Salzbach Turenne commanded the French army. Confident
of victory, secure of position, he fell slain by a musket ball.
Confidence and hope disappeared, and France was left to mourn.
“The Germans for many years left the spot untilled upon which he was
killed, and the inhabitants of the neighbourhood considered it hallowed
ground.
“The remains of Turenne were at first preserved in the Cemetery of
Kings. The Republicans have taken it from this vainglorious oblivion,
and have this day transferred his body to the Temple of Mars, where
veteran warriors can daily repeat the history of his victories.
“Marble and brass decay in time, but this asylum of French warriors
whom old age or wounds has deprived of the power of fighting, will
exist from age to age. On the tomb of Turenne the veteran will shed
tears of admiration and the youth of France perform his vows to the
profession of arms. After embracing this monument and invoking the
shade of Turenne, he will feel himself inspired by a holy enthusiasm.
“Had Turenne lived in our time, he would have been a Republican. The
love of country was his actuating principle. His glory therefore must
be identified with that of the heroes of the Republic; and it is in the
name of the Republic my hands depose these laurels on his tomb.
“May the shade of the illustrious Turenne be sensible of this act of
national government, dictated by a government which is only guided by
principles of virtue.
“Citizens! let me not diminish the emotions which you feel at this
tremendous and awful funeral solemnity. Language cannot describe what
is now displayed before your senses. What shall I say of Turenne?
Behold him! there he lies! Behold the sword grasped by his victorious
hand! Behold also the fatal ball which snatched him from France and
from the whole human race!”
Such was the discourse delivered by Carnot; not _quite equal_ to
the funeral oration of Pericles, but la la for a philosopher of the
National Institute!
Had Turenne lived in our time he might possibly have proved as great a
rascal as any in the late Directorate.
Maréchal Turenne possessed military genius in a transcendent degree,
but he must also by every dispassionate inquirer be condemned as a bad
man, a worse citizen, a rebel and an incendiary. He began his career
as a Maréchal de France with an act of base ingratitude, perfidy and
treason towards his Sovereign and the laws of his country.
No sooner had he been raised to the rank of Maréchal than he suffered
himself to be prevailed upon by an intriguing woman, the Duchess of
Longueville (of whom, although she made a jest of his passion, he was
desperately enamoured), to persuade the army which he commanded to
revolt against the infant King and his mother, the Regent.
[Sidenote: CAREER OF TURENNE]
Being unsuccessful in this attempt, he quitted the army a fugitive and
a Bonaparte, and from General to the King of France he became General
of Don Estevan de Gomora, this enemy of his King and country, by whom
he was defeated at Revel by French troops.
With respect to his policy it was merciless.
His glorious German campaign was achieved by inflicting unheard-of
calamities upon the defenceless inhabitants. After the battle of
Sintzheim he laid waste with fire and sword the Palatinate, a level and
fertile country, full of rich cities and prosperous villages.
From his castle at Mannheim, the Elector Palatine beheld two cities and
twenty-five villages burnt before his eyes. In the first emotion of
resentment this unhappy Prince wrote a letter to Turenne, filled with
bitter reproaches and defying him to single combat.
Turenne made a cool and ambiguous answer, conveying an empty compliment.
In the same cold blood he destroyed all the ovens and cornfields of
Alsace, and afterwards permitted his cavalry to ravage Lorraine.
Turenne acted throughout this campaign contrary to the orders of his
Government, who desired him to treat the conquered provinces with
lenity.
But to return to the Philosophical Tribune of France. The most curious
part of the ceremony consisted in the tears of Carnot! He actually!!
Carnot shed tears!!!
I cannot help thinking this as a most ludicrous instance of the
ceremonial.
Instead of sounding the praises of the present despotism of France,
Carnot might have recited the following lines intended to have been
inscribed on the pedestal of the tomb of Turenne in St. Denis:
Turenne a son tombeau parmi ceux de nos rois,
C’est le fruit glorieux de ces fameux exploits.
On a voulu par-là couronner sa vaillance
Afin qu’aux siècles à venir
On ne fit point de difference
Entre porter la couronne ou de la soutenir.
When we reflect upon the melancholy catastrophe which has befallen the
monuments of the most distinguished Frenchmen, it is to be considered a
fortunate circumstance that the mausoleum of Turenne was rescued from
the general devastation. As the Abbey of St. Denis is totally destroyed
and there is no longer a place for the illustrious dead, except the
Pantheon, in which their bodies would be commingled with those of the
ruffians of the Republic, the Temple of Mars is undoubtedly the most
honourable asylum for the body of one who, notwithstanding his faults,
was perhaps the greatest General of France.
The Hospital of the Invalides maintains its pre-eminence over every
other charitable institution of France.
The funds for the disbursement of its expenses are paid with great
exactitude, and its internal organisation is conducted with exactitude
and decorum.
Had other institutions of France, not less useful, been maintained with
equal scrupulousness, my pen would not have found an opportunity of
portraying the wickedness and folly of a people whose history during
the last ten years is nothing but a disgusting record of rapine, murder
and impiety.