MARCH-JUNE,1816
Ball at Cambray, attended by the Duke of Wellington--An Adventure between
Saint Quentin and Compiègne--Paris revisited--Colonel Wardle and Mrs
Wallis--Society in Paris--The Sourds-Muets--The Cemetery of Père La
Chaise--Apathy of the French people--The priests--Marriage of the Duke de
Berri.
March, 1816.
This time I varied my route to Paris, by passing thro' St Omer, Douay and
Cambray. At Cambray I was present at a ball given by the municipality. The
Duke of Wellington was there. He had in his hand an extraordinary sort of
hat which had something of a shape of a folding cocked hat, with divers red
crosses and figures on it, so that it resembled a conjurer's cap. I
understand it is a hat given to his Grace by magnanimous Alexander; St
Nicholas perhaps commissioned the Emperor to present it to Wellington, for
his Grace is entitled to the eternal gratitude of the different Saints, as
well as of the different sovereigns, for having maintained them
respectively in their celestial and terrestrial dominions; and it is to be
hoped, after his death, that the latter will celebrate for him a brilliant
apotheosis, and the former be as complaisant to him and make room for him
in the Empyreum as Virgil requests the Scorpion to do for Augustus:
...Ipse tibi jam brachia contrahit ardens
Scorpios, et coeli jusiâ plus parts reliquit.[59]
I met with an adventure in my journey from St Quentin to Compiègne, which,
had it happened a hundred years ago in France, would have alarmed me much
for my personal safety. It was as follows. I had taken my place at St
Quentin to go to Paris; but all the diligences being filled, the _bureau_
expedited a _calèche_ to convey me as far as Compiègne, there to meet the
Paris diligence at nine the next morning. It was a very dark cold night,
and snowed very hard.
Between eleven and twelve o'clock at night, half way between St Quentin and
Compiègne, the axle tree of the carriage broke; we were at least two miles
from any village one way and three the other; but a lone house was close to
the spot where the accident happened. We had, therefore, the choice of
going forward or backward, the postillion and myself helping the carriage
on with our hands, or to take refuge at the lone house till dawn of day. I
preferred the latter; we knocked several times at the door of the lone
house, but the owner refused to admit us, saying that he was sure we were
_gens de mauvaise vie_, and that he would shoot us if we did not go away.
The postillion and I then determined on retrograding two miles, the
distance of the nearest village, and remaining there till morning. We
arrived there with no small difficulty and labour, for it snowed very fast
and heavily, and it required a good deal of bodily exertion to push on the
carriage. Arrived at the village, we knocked at the door of a small
cottage, the owner of which sold some brandy. He received me very civilly,
gave me some eggs and bacon for supper, and a very fair bed.
The next morning, after having the axle tree repaired, we proceeded on our
journey to Compiègne. I suffered much from the cold during this adventure,
and did not sleep well, having fallen into a train of thought which
prevented me from so doing; and I could not help bringing to my
recollection the adventure of Raymond in the forest near Strassburg, in the
romance of _The Monk_. Nothing worthy of note occurred during the rest of
the journey; but this adventure obliged me to remain one day at Compiègne
to wait for the next diligence.
PARIS, April 8th, 1816.
I delivered my letters to the Wardle family and am very much pleased with
them. I meet a very agreeable society at their house. Col Wardle is quite a
republican and very rigid in his principles.[60] His daughter is a young
lady of first rate talents and has already distinguished herself by some
poetical compositions. I met at their house Mrs Wallis, the sister of Sir
R. Wilson.[61] She is an enthusiastic Napoleonist, and wears at times a
tricolored scarf and a gold chain with a medal of Napoleon's head attached
to it; this head she sometimes, to amuse herself, compels the old emigrants
she meets with in society to kiss. The trial of her brother is now going on
for aiding and abetting the escape of Lavalette. I sincerely hope he will
escape any severity of punishment, but I more fear the effects of Tory
vengeance against him in England, in the shape of depriving him of his
commission, than I do the sentence of any French court. Yet tho' I wish him
well, I cannot help feeling the remains of a little grudge against him for
his calumny against Napoleon in accusing him of poisoning the sick of his
own army before the walls of St Jean d'Acre. I have always vindicated the
character of Napoleon from this most unjust and unfounded aspersion,
because having been in Egypt with Abercrombie's army and having had daily
intercourse with Belliard's division of the French army, after the
capitulation of Cairo, and during our joint march on the left bank of the
Nile to Rosetta, I knew that there was not a syllable of truth in the
story. Mrs Wallis, however, tells me that her brother has expressed deep
regret that he ever gave credence and currency to such a report; and that
he acknowledges that he was himself deceived. But he did Napoleon an
irreparable injury, and his work on the Egyptian campaign contributed in a
very great degree to excite the hatred of the English people against
Napoleon, as well as to flatter the passions and prejudices of the Tories.
In the affair however of Lavalette Wilson has nobly retrieved his character
and obliterated all recollection of his former error. It is amazing the
popularity he and his two gallant associates have acquired in France by
this generous and chevaleresque enterprise.
I meet at Col Wardle's a very pleasant French society: conversation, music
and singing fill up the evening.
April 15th.
I have been presented to a very agreeable lady, Madame Esther Fournier, who
holds a _conversazione_ at her house in the Rue St Honoré every Wednesday
evening. Here there is either a concert, a ball or private theatricals;
while in a separate room play goes forward and _crebs_, a game of dice
similar to hazard, is the fashionable game. Refreshments are handed round
and at twelve o'clock the company break up. Mme Fournier is a lady of very
distinguished talent and always acts a principal rôle herself in the
dramatic performances given at her private theatricals.
I have become acquainted too with a very pleasant family, M. and Mme
Vanderberg, who are the proprietors of a large house and magnificent garden
in the Faubourg du Roule. M. Vanderberg is a man of very large fortune.[62]
He has three daughters, handsome and highly accomplished, and one son; one
of them was married to General R----, but is since divorced; the second is
married to a young colonel of Hussars, and the third is still unmarried;
but being very young, handsome, accomplished and rich, there will be no
lack of suitors whenever she is disposed to accept the connubial chain. I
have dined several times with this family. There is an excellent table. The
choicest old wines are handed about during dinner, and afterwards we
adjourn to another room to take coffee and liqueurs.
If there is no evening party, the company retire, some for the theatre,
some for other houses, where they have to pass the evening; if the family
remain at home you have the option of retiring or remaining with them, and
the evening is filled up with music or _petits jeux_. I meet with several
agreeable and distinguished people at this house, among whom are M. Anglas,
Mme Duthon from the Canton de Vaud, a lady of great vivacity and talent,
and General Guilleminot and his lady. Col. Paulet, who married M.
Vanderberg's second daughter, was on the staff of General Guilleminot at
the battle of Waterloo and suffered much from a fever and ague that he
caught on the night bivouacs.
I have attended a séance of the Institution of the _Sourds-Muets_ founded
by the famous Abbé de l'Epée, and continued with equal success by his
successor the Abbé S[icard],[63] who delivered the lecture and exhibited
the talent and proficiency of his pupils. The eldest pupil, Massieu,
himself deaf and dumb, is an extraordinary genius and he may be said in
some measure to direct all the others. Massieu, who has a very interesting
and even handsome countenance, and manners extremely prepossessing,
conducts the examination of the pupils by means of signs, and writing on a
slate or paper; and it is wonderful to observe the progress made by these
interesting young persons, who have been so harshly treated by Nature. The
definitions they give of substances and qualities are so just and happy;
and in their situation, definition is everything, for they cannot learn by
rote, as other boys often do, who, in the study of philology, acquire only
words and not things or meanings. The deaf and dumb persons, on the
contrary, acquire at once by this method of instruction the philosophy of
grammar; and then it is far from being the dry study that many people
suppose. A German princess who was present exclaimed in a transport of
admiration at some of the specimens of definitions and inferences given by
the pupils; " Oh! I wish that I were born deaf and dumb, were it only to
learn grammar properly!" Sir Sidney Smith was present at this lecture and
seemed inclined to make himself a little too conspicuous. For instance,
before the examination began, he seated himself close by the Abbé S[icard]
and pulling a paper out of his pocket said that he had found it on the
ground on his way hither; and that it was part of a leaf from an edition of
Cicero which contained a sentence so applicable to the character and
talents of his friend the Abbé, that he requested permission to read it
aloud and translate it into French for the benefit of those who did not
understand Latin. He then read the sentence. The Abbé, not to be out-done
in compliments, then rose and made a most flaming speech in eulogium of his
friend "the heroic defender of St John d'Acre" and pointed him out to the
audience as the first person who had foiled the arms of the "Usurper."
Now this word "Usurper" applied to Napoleon did not at all please the
audience, and it shewed a great deal of servility on the part of the Abbé
to insult fallen greatness, and in the person too of a man who had rendered
such vast services to science. In fact this episode was received coldly,
and somewhat impatiently by the audience; and many thought it was a thing
_got up_ between the Admiral and the Abbé to flatter each other's vanity;
indeed my friend Mrs Wallis, next to whom I was placed, and who does not at
all agree with the gallant Admiral in politics, intimated this in a
whisper, loud enough to be heard by all the audience and added: "Such a
humbug is enough to make one sick." Sir Sidney Smith heard all this and
seemed a good deal abashed and disconcerted; he, however, had the good
sense to say nothing, and the examination began.
PARIS, May 5th.
I formed a party with some friends to visit the cemetery of Père la Chaise.
We remarked in particular the places where poor Labédoyère and Marshal Ney
are buried. There is no tombstone on the former, but some shrubs have been
planted, and a black wooden cross fixed to denote the spot where he lies.
To Marshal Ney there is a stone sepulchre with this inscription: "_Cy-gît
le Maréchal Ney, Prince de la Moskowa_." This cemetery is most beautifully
laid out. The multitude of tombs, the variety of inscriptions in prose and
verse, some of which are very affecting, the yews, the willows, all render
this a delightful spot for contemplation; it commands an extensive view of
Paris and the surrounding country. Foreigners of distinction who die in
Paris are generally buried here; but it would require a volume to describe
to you in detail this interesting cemetery. I think the practice of
strewing flowers over the grave is very touching and classic; it reminded
me of the description of Marcellus's death in Virgil:
... Manibus date lilia plenis.
We however strewed over the tombs of Labédoyère and Ney not lilies, but
violets, for my friend Mrs W[allis], who was of our party, has a great
aversion to the lily.
We have just heard of Didier's capture and execution at Grenoble.[64] There
are continual reports of insurrections and plots, but it is now well known
that the most of them are _got up_ by the Ultras to entrap the unwary. The
French people seem sunk in apathy and to wish for peace at any rate;
nothing but the most extreme provocation will induce them to take up arms;
but then, if they once do so, woe to the _Chambre Introuvable_, as the
present Chamber of Deputies is called; certainly such a set of venal,
merciless and ignorant bigots and blockheads never were collected in any
assembly. There have occurred several scandalous scenes at Nîmes and other
places. The Protestants are openly insulted and threatened, and the
government is either too weak to prevent it, or, as is supposed, secretly
encourages those excesses. In fact in Paris there are two polices; the one,
that of the Government, the other, and by far the most troublesome, that of
_Monsieur_[65] and the violent Ultra party, or as they are collectively
called the _Pavilion Marsan_.[66] The priests are at work everywhere
trumping up old legends, forging communications from the Holy Ghost,
receiving letters dropped from heaven by Jesus Christ, and all this is done
with the idea of working on fanatical minds, to induce them to commit acts
of outrage and violence on those whom the priests designate as enemies to
the faith, and on weak ones, with the idea of frightening them into
restoring the lands and property which they have purchased or inherited and
which formerly belonged to emigrants or to the Church.
A lady of my acquaintance (to give you an idea of the arts of these holy
hypocrites) sent for a priest to confess and to receive absolution, not
from any faith in the efficacy of the business, but merely from a desire of
conforming to the ceremonies of the national worship. The priest arrived,
but began by apologizing to her that he was sorry he could not administer
to her the sacrament of absolution; she, surprized, asked the reason; he
answered that it was because her uncle had purchased Church lands, which
she inherited, and that unless she could resolve to restore them to the
church, he could not think of giving her absolution. The lady was at a loss
whether to be indignant at his impudence or to laugh outright at his folly.
She however assumed a becoming gravity and _sang-froid_, and told him that
he was very much mistaken if he thought he had got hold of a simpleton or a
bigot in her; that she had sent for him merely with the idea of conforming
to the national worship, and not with the most remote persuasion of the
necessity or efficacy of his or any other priest's absolution; she added:
"Your conduct has opened my eyes as to the views of all your cloth; I see
you are incurable. I shall never send for any of you again; and be assured
this anecdote shall not be forgotten. You may retire." The priest, abashed
and mortified in finding himself mistaken in his supposed prey, stammered
an excuse and retired.
I intend to remain at Paris until after the marriage ceremony of the Duke
and Duchess of Berri, and I shall then proceed to Lausanne. It is expected
there will be some disturbance on the occasion of this marriage.
I have witnessed an execution by the guillotine on the Place de Grève near
the _Hôtel de Ville_. The criminal was guilty of a burglary and murder. It
is the only execution (except political ones) that has taken place at Paris
for the last six months, whereas in England they are strung up by dozens
every fortnight. Independent of there being far less crimes committed in
France than in England, the French code punishes but few offences with
death.
Why is not the sanguinary English criminal code with death in every
line--why is it not reformed, I say? 'Twould be well if our legislators,
instead of their puerile and frothy declamations against revolutionary
principles and the ambition of Napoleon, would occupy themselves seriously
with this subject. But then the lawyers would all oppose the simplification
of our Code. They find by experience that a complicated one, obstructed by
customs, statutes and acts of Parliament, difficult to be correctly
interpreted, and frequently at variance with each other, is a much more
profitable thing, a much wider and more lucrative field for the exercise of
their profession, than the simplicity of the Code Napoléon; and they would
die of rage and despair at the thought of anybody not a lawyer being able
to interpret the laws himself. Now as our country gentlemen and members of
Parliament are always much inclined to take lawyer's advice, and are
besides fully persuaded and convinced that there are no abuses whatever in
England and that everything is as it should be, there is no hope of any
amelioration in this particular. All reasoning and argument is lost on such
political optimists.
The punishment of the guillotine certainly appears to be the most humane
mode of terminating the existence of a man that could possibly be invented.
The apparatus is preserved in the _Hôtel de Ville_, and is never exposed to
view or erected on the place of execution, till about an hour before the
execution itself takes place. At the hour appointed the criminal is brought
to the scaffold, fastened to the board, placed at right angles with the
fatal instrument, the head protruding thro' the groove, which embraces the
neck; the executioner pulls a cord, the axe descends and the head of the
criminal falls into a basket. The whole ceremony of the execution does not
take three minutes when the criminal once arrives at the foot of the
guillotine. There is none of that horrible struggling that takes place in
the operation of hanging.
June 21st, 1816.
The ceremony of the marriage of the Duke and Duchess of Berri passed off
quietly enough. Several people, it is true, were arrested for seditious
expressions, but no tumult occurred. A great apprehension seemed to prevail
lest something should occur, but the gendarmerie and police were so
vigilant that all projects, had there been any, would have proved abortive.
[59] Virgil, _Georg._, I, 35.--ED.
[60] Colonel Gwyllym Lloyd Wardle was the celebrated exposer of the scandal
in 1808-9, when the mistress of the Duke of York was found to be
trafficking in Commissions. He had retired from active service in
1802, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. Financial reasons obliged
him, after 1815, to live on the Continent; he died in Florence,
1833.--ED.
[61] Sir Robert Thomas Wilson (1779-1849), author of _The History of the
British Expedition to Egypt_, 1802; a French translation of that work
elicited a protest from Napoleon.--ED.
[62] Vanderberg had made a fortune as a contractor to the French army; he
is mentioned in Ida Saint Elme's _Mémoires d'une contemporaine_ and
elsewhere.--ED.
[63] Abbé Sicard (Rooh Ambroise) was director of the Institution of
Sourds-Muets from 1790 to 1797 and from 1800 to 1822.--ED.
[64] Paul Didier (1758-1816) took part in a Bonapartist conspiracy at Lyons
in 1816, raised an insurrection in the Isère and fled to Piedmont,
whence he was surrendered to the French authorities, condemned to
death and executed at Grenoble.--ED.
[65] The King's brother, afterwards Charles X.--ED.
[66] The N.E. pavilion of the Tuileries.--ED.