The Stranger in France Part 7

Upon him, the grateful french will confer those unforced, unpurchased suffrages, which will _prevent_ that fate, which, in their absence, the subtilty of policy, the fascinations of address, the charm of corruption, and even the terror of the bayonet can only _postpone_.--Yes, Bonaparte! millions of suffering beings, raising themselves from the dust, in which a barbarous revolution has prostrated them, look up to thee for liberty, protection, and repose. They _will_ not look to thee in vain. The retiring storm still flas.h.i.+ng its lessening flame, and rolling its distant thunders will teach thee, _were it necessary_, not to force them to remeasure their vengeance by their wrongs.

In Paris, the achievements of the first consul are not much talked of, so true is the old adage, that no man is a hero to his own domestic. The beauties of a colossal statue, must be contemplated at a distance.

The french at present work, walk, eat, drink, and sleep in tranquillity, and what is of more consequence to them, they dance in security, to which may be added, that their taxes are neither very heavy, nor oppressive. In every party which I entered, I found the late minister of Great Britain was the prevailing subject of curiosity. I was overpowered with questions respecting this great man, which in their minute detail, extended to ascertain what was the colour of his eye, the shape of his nose, and whether in a morning he wore hussar boots, or shoes. This little circ.u.mstance could not fail of proving pleasant to an englishman.

They informed me, that throughout the war, they regularly read in their own diurnal prints, our parliamentary debates, and the general outline of most of our political schemes, which were furnished by people in the pay of the french government, who resided in England notwithstanding the severity of the legislative, and the vigilance of the executive authorities. Whilst I am mentioning the subject of newspaper intercourse, I cannot help lamenting, that since the renewal of national friends.h.i.+p, the public prints of both countries are not more under the influence of cordiality and good humour.

The liberty of the press is the palladium of reason, the distributor of light and learning, the public and undismayed a.s.sertor of interdicted truth. It is the body and the _honour guard_ of civil and political liberty. Where the laws halt with dread, the freedom of the press advances, and with the subtle activity of conscience, penetrates the fortified recesses and writes its _fearful sentence on the palace wall_ of recoiling tyrants. As an englishman, my expiring sigh should be breathed for its preservation; but as an admirer of social repose and national liberality, I regret to see its n.o.ble energies engaged in the degrading service of fretful spleen, and ungenerous animadversion. When the horizon is no longer blackened with the smoke of the battle, it is unworthy of two mighty empires to carry on an ign.o.ble war of words. If peace is their wish, let them manifest the great and enlightened sentiment in all its purity, and disdain to irritate each other by acts of petulant and provoking recrimination.

A short time preceding my arrival in France, Bonaparte had rendered himself very popular amongst the const.i.tutional clergy, by a well timed compliment to the metropolitan archbishop. The first consul gave a grand dinner to this dignified prelate, and to several of his brethren.

After the entertainment, Bonaparte addressed the archbishop by observing, that as he had given directions for the repairing of the archiepiscopal palace, he should very much like to take a ride in the archbishop's carriage, to see the progress which the workmen had made.

The prelate bowed to the first consul, and informed him that he had no carriage, otherwise he should be much flattered by conducting him thither. Bonaparte good humouredly said, "how can that be? your coach has been waiting at the gate this half hour," and immediately led the venerable archbishop down the steps of the Thuilleries, where he found a plain handsome carriage, with a valuable pair of horses, and a coachman, and footmen dressed in the livery which Bonaparte had just before informed him would be allotted to him, when his establishment was completed. The whole was a present from the private purse of the first consul. Upon their arrival at the palace, the archbishop was agreeably surprised by finding that the most minute, and liberal attention had been paid to his comfort and accommodation.

The clergy seem to be in favour with Bonaparte. When he a.s.sisted in the last spring at the inauguration of the archbishop of Paris, in the metropolitan church of Notre Dame, and gave to the restoration of religion "all the circ.u.mstance of pomp" and military parade, he was desirous of having the colours of his regiment consecrated by the holy prelate, and submitted his wishes to his soldiers. A few days afterwards, a deputation waited upon their general in chief, with this reply, "Our banners have already been consecrated by the blood of our enemies at Marengo; the benediction of a priest cannot render them more sacred in our eyes, nor more animating in the time of battle." Bonaparte prudently submitted himself to their praetorian resolution, and the consular colours remain to this hour in the same _unchristianlike_ condition, as when they first waved at the head of their victorious legions. This anecdote will in some degree prove a fact which, notwithstanding the counter reports of english newspapers, I found every where confirmed, that although religion is _new_ to the french, yet that the novelty has at present but little charm for them. I had frequent opportunity of making this remark, as well in the capital as in the departments of the republic through which I pa.s.sed. In Paris, the Sabbath can only be considered as a day of dissipation to the lovers of gayety, and a day of unusual profit to the man of trade. Here, it is true, upon particular festival days, considerable bodies of people are to be seen in the act of wors.h.i.+p, but curiosity, and the love of show a.s.semble them together, if it was otherwise their attendance would be more numerous and regular. The first consul does not seem to possess much fas.h.i.+onable influence over the french in matters of religion, otherwise, as he has the credit of attending ma.s.s, with very pious punctuality, in his private chapel at Mal Maison, it might be rather expected, that devotion would become a little more familiar to the people.

Upon another subject, the _profession_ of the chief magistrate has been equally unfortunate. To the few ladies who are admitted into his social circles, he has declared himself an enemy to that dress, or undress (I am puzzled to know what to call it) which his friend, David, has, so successfully, recommended, for the purpose of displaying, with the least possible restraint, the fine proportions of the female form. Madame Bonaparte, who is considered to be in as good a state of subordination to her _young_ husband, as the consular regiment is to their _young_ general, contrives to exhibit her elegant person to great advantage; by adopting a judicious and graceful medium of dress, by which she tastefully avoids a load of decoration, which repels the eye by too dense a covering, and that questionable airiness of ornament which, by its gracious and unrestrained display, deprives the imagination of more than half its pleasures. Bonaparte is said not to be indifferent to those affections which do honour to the breast which cherishes them, nor to the morals of the people whom he governs.

It is well known that in France, in the house of a new fas.h.i.+onable couple, _separate chambers_ are always reserved for the _faithful_ pair, which after the solemnities of marriage very seldom remain long unoccupied. The first consul considers such separations as unfriendly to morals. A few months since, by a well timed display of a.s.sumed ignorance, he endeavoured to give fas.h.i.+on to a sentiment which may in time reduce the number of these _family accommodations_. The n.o.ble palace of St. Cloud was at this time preparing for him; the princ.i.p.al architect requested of him to point out in what part of the palace he would wish to have his separate sleeping room. "I do not know what you mean," said the young imperial philosopher, "crimes only divide the husband from his wife. Make as many bed rooms as you please, but only _one_ for me and Madame Bonaparte."

I must now quit the dazzling splendour of imperial virtues for the more tranquil, but not less fascinating appearance of retired and modest merit.

It was in the afternoon of one of the finest days in June, when Madame O----, with her nephew, a very amiable young man, called in their carriage and took me to the chateau of her husband, to whom I had letters of introduction. After pa.s.sing through a charming country for nine miles, adorned on each side with gardens and country houses, we arrived at the pleasant village of la Reine. As soon as we entered it, the sight of the carriage, and of their benefactress, seemed to enliven the faces of the villagers, who were seated in picturesque groupes at the doors of their cottages. Such animated looks were not lighted up by curiosity, for they had seen Madame O---- a thousand and a thousand times, but because they had seldom seen her without experiencing some endearing proof of her bountiful heart. We left the village to the right, and proceeded through a private road, lined with stately walnut trees, of nearly a mile in length, which led to Monsieur O----'s. It was evening; the sky was cloudless, the sun was setting in great glory, and covered the face of this romantic country with the richest glow. Near the gate of a shrubbery I beheld a very handsome boy, whose appearance at once bespoke him to be the son of a gentleman, the animated smile of Madame O----, immediately convinced me that it was her son; "see," said the delighted mother, "it is my little gardener;" the little graceful rustic had a small spade in his hand, which he threw down, and ran to us. We alighted at the entrance of the garden, into which we entered, under a beautiful covered treillage, lined with jessamine and honeysuckles. At the end were two elegant young women, waiting, with delight, to receive their mother, from whom they had been separated only a few hours. With this charming family I entered the house, which was handsome but plain. The hospitable owner rose from his sofa, and, after embracing his elegant lady with great affection, he received me with all the expressions and warmth of a long friends.h.i.+p. Soon afterwards his servant (a faithful indian) entered, and spread upon the table, Madeira, Burgundy, and dried fruits. It was intensely hot: the great window at the end of the room in which we were sitting, opened into the gardens, which appeared to be very beautiful, and abounded with nightingales, which were then most sweetly singing. "They are my little musicians,"

said Monsieur O----, "we have made a pleasant bargain together, I give them crumbs of bread and my bowers to range in, and they give me this charming music every evening."

Monsieur O---- was an invalide, the revolution, poignant vexations, heavy losses, and a painful separation from his native country, for the preservation of his life, and that of his family, had undermined his health. Grief had made sad inroads upon a delicate const.i.tution. It was his good fortune to be the husband of one of the finest, and most amiable women in France, and the father of an affectionate, beautiful, and accomplished family. His circ.u.mstances had been once splendid; they were then respectable, but he had pa.s.sed through events which threatened his _all_. Those sufferings which generous souls sustain for the sake of others, not for themselves, had alone destroyed the resemblance which once existed between this excellent man and his admirable portrait, which, at the further end of the room, presented the healthy glow, and fine proportions of manly beauty. He expressed to me, in the most charming manner, his regret, that indisposition confined him to the country, and prevented him from receiving me in Paris suitable to his own wishes, and to those claims which I had upon his attentions, by the letters of introduction which I had brought to him; but added, that he should furnish me with letters to some of his friends in town, who would be happy to supply his absence, and to make Paris agreeable to me.

Monsieur O---- was as good as his word.

This amiable gentleman possessed a countenance of great genius, and a mind full of intelligence.

After an elegant supper, when his lady and daughters had withdrawn, he entered into a very interesting account of his country, of the revolution, and of his flight for the salvation of himself and family. A tolerably good opinion may be formed of the devastation which have been produced by the late republican government, by the following circ.u.mstance, which Monsieur O---- a.s.sured me, on the word of a man of honour, was correct.

His section in Paris was composed of one thousand three hundred persons, of rank and fortune, of whom only five had escaped the slaughter of the guillotine!!

Madame O---- and her charming family, seemed wholly to occupy his heart and affections.

He spoke of his lady with all the tender eulogium of a young lover.

Their union was entirely from attachment, and had been resisted on the part of Madame O----, when he first addressed her, only because her fortune was humble, compared with his. He informed me, and I must not suppress the story, that in the time of blood, this amiable woman, who is remarkable for the delicacy of her mind, and for the beauty and majesty of her person, displayed a degree of coolness and courage, which, in the field of battle, would have covered the hero with laurels.

One evening, a short period before the family left France, a party of those murderers, who were sent for by Robespierre, from the frontiers which divide France from Italy, and who were by that archfiend employed in all the butcheries, and ma.s.sacres of Paris, entered the peaceful village of la Reine, in search of Monsieur O----. His lady saw them advancing, and antic.i.p.ating their errand, had just time to give her husband intelligence of their approach, who left his chateau by a back door, and secreted himself in the house of a neighbour. Madame O----, with perfect composure, went out to meet them, and received them in the most gracious manner. They sternly demanded Mons. O----, she informed them that he had left the country, and after engaging them in conversation, she conducted them into her drawing room, and regaled them with her best wines, and made her servants attend upon them with unusual deference and ceremony. Their appearance was altogether horrible, they wore leather ap.r.o.ns, which were sprinkled all over with blood, they had large horse pistols in their belts, and a dirk and sabre by their sides.

Their looks were full of ferocity, and they spoke a harsh dissonant patois language. Over their cups, they talked about the b.l.o.o.d.y business of that day's occupation, in the course of which they drew out their dirks, and wiped from their handles, clots of blood and hair. Madame O---- sat with them, undismayed by their frightful deportment. After drinking several bottles of Champaign and Burgundy, these savages began to grow good humoured, and seemed to be completely fascinated by the amiable and unembarra.s.sed, and hospitable behaviour of their fair landlady. After carousing till midnight, they pressed her to retire, observing that they had been received so handsomely that they were convinced Monsieur O---- had been misrepresented, and was no enemy to the _good cause_; they added that they found the wines excellent, and after drinking two or three bottles more, they would leave the house, without causing her any reason to regret their admission.

Madame O----, with all the appearance of perfect tranquillity and confidence in their promises, wished her unwelcome visitors a good night, and after visiting her children in their rooms, she threw herself upon her bed, with a loaded pistol in each hand, and, overwhelmed with suppressed agony and agitation, she _soundly_ slept till she was called by her servants, two hours after these wretches had left the house. He related also another instance of that resolution which is not unfrequently exhibited by women, when those generous affections, for which they are so justly celebrated, are menaced with danger. About the same period, two of the children of Monsieur O---- were in Paris at school: A rumour had reached him, that the teachers of the seminary in which they were placed, had offended the government, and were likely to be butchered, and that the carnage which was expected to take place, might, in its undistinguis.h.i.+ng fury, extend to the pupils. Immediately upon receiving this intelligence, Monsieur O---- ordered his carriage, for the purpose of proceeding to town. Madame O---- implored of him to permit her to accompany him; in vain did he beseech her to remain at home; the picture of danger which he painted, only rendered her more determined. She mounted the carriage, and seated herself by the side of her husband. When they reached Paris, they were stopped in the middle of the street St. Honore, by the ma.s.sacre of a large number of prisoners who had just been taken out of a church which had been converted into a prison. Their ears were pierced with screams. Many of the miserable victims were cut down, clinging to the windows of their carriage. During the dreadful delays which they suffered in pa.s.sing through this street, Madame O---- discovered no sensations of alarm, but stedfastly fixed her eyes upon the back of the coach box, to avoid, as much as possible, observing the butcheries which were perpetrating on each side of her.

Had she been observed to close her eyes, or to set back in the carriage, she would have excited a suspicion, which, no doubt, would have proved fatal to her. At length she reached the school which contained her children, where she found the rumour which they had received was without foundation; she calmly conducted them to the carriage, and during their gloomy return through Paris, betrayed no emotions; but as soon as they had pa.s.sed the barrier, and were once more in safety upon the road to their peaceful chateau, the exulting mother, in an agony of joy, pressed her children to her bosom, and in a state of mind wrought up to frenzy, arrived at her own house, in convulsions of ghastly laughter. Monsieur O---- never spoke of this charming woman, without exhibiting the strongest emotions of regard. He said, that in sickness she suffered no one to attend upon him but herself, that in all his afflictions she had supported him, and that she mitigated the deep melancholy which the sufferings of his country, and his own privations, had fixed upon him, by the well-timed sallies of her elegant fancy, or by the charms of her various accomplishments.

I found myself a gainer in the article of delight, by leaving the gayest metropolis that Europe can present to a traveller, for the sake of visiting such a family.

CHAPTER XIII.

_Breakfast.--Warmth of French Expression.--Rustic Eloquence.--Curious Cause a.s.signed for the late extraordinary Frost.--Madame R----.--Paul I.--Tivoli.--Frescati._

In the morning we breakfasted in the drawing room, in which the murderous myrmidons of Robespierre had been regaled. It was beautifully situated. Its windows looked into a grove which Monsieur O---- had formed of valuable american shrubs. His youngest daughter, a beautiful little girl of about five years of age, rather hastily entered the room with a pair of tame wood pigeons in her hands, which, in her eagerness to bring to her father, she had too forcibly pressed, who very gently told her, it was cruel to hurt her little favourites, more particularly as they were a species of bird which was remarkable for its unoffending innocence. The little creature burst into tears, "my little Harriet, why do you weep?" said her father, kissing her white forehead, and pressing her to him. "Why do you rebuke me?" said the little sufferer, "when you know I love you so much that I could kiss your naked heart."

I mention this circ.u.mstance, to show how early in life, the french children imbibe the most charming expressions, by which their more mature conversation is rendered so peculiarly captivating. During our repast, a circ.u.mstance occurred, which produced an unusual vivacity amongst all the party, and afforded a specimen of the talent and pleasantry of the french country people. The gardener entered, with the paper, and letters of the day. Amongst them, was a letter which had been opened, appeared very much disordered, and ought to have been received upon the preceding day. Monsieur O----seemed much displeased, and called upon his man to explain the matter. The gardener, who possessed a countenance which beamed with animation and good humour, made a low bow, and without appearing to be, in the least degree, disconcerted, proceeded to unfold the affair, with the most playful ingenuity. He stated that the dairy maid was very pretty, that she made every body in love with her, and was very much in love herself, that she was accustomed to receive a great number of billet doux, which, on account of her education having been very far below her incomparable merits, she was not able to understand, without the a.s.sistance of Nicolene, the groom, who was her confident, and amanuensis; that on the day before, he gave her the letter in question, with directions to carry it to his master, that under the influence of that thoughtful absence which is said to attend the advanced stages of the tender pa.s.sion, she soon afterwards conceived that it was no other than a customary homage from one of her many admirers, upon which she committed the supposed depositary of tender sighs and brittle vows, to the warm custody of her glowing bosom, than which, the gardener, (who at this moment saw his master's eyes were engaged by the _sullied_ appearance of the letter) declared that nothing was fairer; he again proceeded, by observing, that in the course of the preceding evening, as she was stooping to adjust her stool in the meadow, the cow kicked, and the epistle tumbled into the milk pail; that she afterwards dried it by the kitchen fire, and gave it, for the reasons before a.s.signed, to her confidential friend to explain to her, who soon discovered it to be a letter of business, addressed to his master, instead of an impa.s.sioned love ditty for the tender Marie; that, finally, all the princ.i.p.als concerned in this unhappy affair were overwhelmed with distress, on account of the sad disaster, and that the kitchen had lost all its vivacity ever since. No advocate could have pleaded more eloquently. All the family, from its chief, to little Harriet, whose tears were not yet dried, were in a continued fit of laughing. The gardener, whose face very largely partook of the gaiety which he had so successfully excited, was commissioned, by his amiable master, to tell the distressed dairy maid, that love always carried his pardon in his hand for all his offences, and that he cheerfully forgave her, but directed the gardener, to prevent a recurrence of similar accidents, not again to trust her with his letters until the tender disease was radically removed. The rustic orator gracefully bowed; and left us to finish our breakfast with increased good humour, and to carry forgiveness and consolation to poor Marie and all her condoling friends in the kitchen. Before we had completed our repast, a little deformed elderly lady made her appearance, whose religion had been shaken by the revolution, into a crazy and gloomy superst.i.tion. She had scarcely seated herself, before she began a very rapid and voluble comment upon the change of the times, and the devastations which the late extraordinary frost had committed upon the vineyards of France, which she positively a.s.serted, with the confidence which only the arrival of her tutelar saint with the intelligence ought to have inspired, was sent as an _appropriate_ judgment upon the republic, to punish it, for suffering the ladies of Paris to go so thinly clothed. Monsieur O---- heard her very patiently throughout, and then observed, that the ways of Heaven were inscrutable, that human ingenuity was baffled, in attempting to draw inferences from its visitations, and that it did not appear to him at least, that an offence which was a.s.suredly calculated to inspire sensations of warmth and tenderness, was _appropriately_ punished by a chastis.e.m.e.nt of an _opposite_ tendency, to which he added, that some moralists who indulged in an endeavour to connect causes and effects, might think it rather incompatible with their notions of eternal equity, to endeavour to clothe the ladies, by stripping the land to nakedness--here the old lady could not help smiling. Her amicable adversary pursued the advantage which his pleasantry had produced, by informing her, that prognostications had been for a long period discountenanced, and that formerly when the ancient augurs, after the ceremonies of their successful illusions were over, met each other by accident in the street, impressed by the ridiculous remembrance of their impositions, they could not help laughing in each other's faces. Madame V----laughed too; upon which Monsieur O----, very good humouredly told her, that as a soothsayer, she certainly would not have smiled, unless she intended to retire for ever from the office. Previous to my taking leave of Monsieur O----and his charming family, we walked in the gardens, where our conversation turned upon the extraordinary genius, who in the character of first consul of the french, unites a force, and extent of sway unknown to the kings of France, from their first appearance, to the final extinction of monarchy.

He told me that he had the honour of knowing him with intimacy from his youth, and extolled, with high eulogy, his splendid abilities, and the great services which he had rendered France. He also related several amiable anecdotes of the minister Talleyrand, who, when in America, had lived with him a considerable time under the same roof.

At length the cabriolet, which was to bear me from this little Paradise, approached the gate, and the moment arrived when I was to part with one of the most charming families to be found in the bosom of the republic.

As Monsieur O---- pressed me by one hand, and placed that of his little Harriet in my other, a tear of exquisite tenderness rolled down his cheek, it seemed to express that we should never meet again on this side the grave. Excellent being! if it must be so, if wasting and unsparing sickness is destined to tear thee ere long from those who delight thine eye, and soothe thine heart in the midst of its sorrows, may the angel of peace smile upon thee in thy last moments, and bear thy mild and generous, and patient spirit, to the realms of eternal repose! Adieu!

dear family of la Reine.

Upon my return to Paris, I proceeded to the hotel of Monsieur R----.

Curiosity led me to view the house, and the celebrated bed of his lady, who was then in London.

The little vanities and eccentricities of this elegant and hospitable woman, will find immediate forgiveness, when it is known that she is now very young, and was married, when a spoiled child of the age of fourteen, to her present husband. She is one of David's most enthusiastic admirers, and has carried the rage for grecian undress, to an extremity, which, even in the capital, left her without a follower.

In the public walks of the Champs Elysees, she one evening presented herself in a dress which almost rivalled the robes of Paradise; the parisians, who are remarkable for their politeness to women, and are not remarkable for scrupulous sentiments of delicacy, were so displeased with her appearance, that they made a lane to the entrance for her, and expelled the modern Eve from the Elysian Fields, not with a "flaming sword of wrath," but with hisses softly uttered, and by gentle tokens of polite disapprobation. She tells her friends, that her cabinet is crowded with letters of the most impa.s.sioned love, from persons of the first fame, distinction, and opulence. In her parties, when conversation begins to pause, she introduces some of these melting epistles, which she is said to read with a bewitching pathos, and never fails to close the fond recital by expressions of the tenderest pity for the sufferings of their ill-starred authors. She has declared, that some of her lovers equal the Belvidere Apollo in beauty, but that she never has yet seen that being, who was perfect enough to be ent.i.tled to the possession of her affections. Do not smile. Madame Ris a disciple of Diana, even slander pays incessant homage to her chast.i.ty. Rumour has whispered, in every corner of Paris, that her husband is only admitted to the honour of supplying the finances of her splendid and costly establishment.

Madame R---- has not yet produced any of the beautiful and eloquent arguments of Cornelia, to disprove the strange a.s.sertion. Her chamber, which const.i.tutes one of the sights of Paris, and which, after what has been just mentioned, may be justly considered, in or out of France, as a great curiosity, is fitted up in a style of considerable taste, and even magnificence. The bed upon which this charming statue reposes, is a superb sofa, raised upon a pedestal, the ascent to which is by a flight of cedar steps, on each side are altars, on which are placed Herculaneum vases of flowers, and a large antique lamp of gold; the back of the bed is formed by an immense pier gla.s.s, and the curtains, which are of the most costly muslin, festooned with golden ta.s.sels, descend in beautiful drapery from a floral crown of gold. It is said that the late emperor of Russia, after the laborious and successful diplomatic intrigues of messrs. Talleyrand and Sieyes, and a certain lady, became enamoured, by description, with the immaculate G.o.ddess of Mont Blanc, and that he sent confidential commissioners to Paris, to report her daily dress, and to order copies of her furniture.

The story may be believed, when the hero of it was well known to be fully qualified for one of the deepest dungeons of a madhouse. I hope, for the sake of society, and the repose of the world, that the rest of Madame R----'s admirers have not united to their pa.s.sion the bewildered imagination, which fatally distinguished, and finally closed the career of her imperial lover.

Mr. R---- is very polite to the english, and his letters ensure the greatest attention wherever they are produced.

From Mont Blanc I proceeded to the Hotel de Caramand, the residence of the british amba.s.sador, to whom I had a letter of introduction, from a particular friend of his, and who received me with great politeness. His apartments were handsome, and looked into some beautiful gardens.

Amongst the english, who were at this time in Paris, a little prejudice existed against the representative of the british monarch, from a reason, which within the jurisdiction of the lord mayor of London and of most corporate towns in England, will be considered to carry considerable weight. The envoy did not celebrate the late birthday of his sovereign by a jolly, and convivial dinner. The fact was, Mr. M----, who by the sudden return of Mr. J----, became unexpectedly invested with the dignity of an amba.s.sador, was in constant expectation of being recalled, to make room for the intended appointment of lord W---- to the consular court, in consequence of which, he had not prepared for the display of those splendid hospitalities, which, on such occasions, always distinguish the table of a british house of emba.s.sy.

On a Sunday evening, I went with a party to Tivoli, a favourite place of amus.e.m.e.nt with the parisians. At the entrance we found, as at all the public places, a guard of horse, and foot. The admission is twenty sols. The evening was very fine. We pa.s.sed immense crowds of people, who were flocking to the same place. Amongst them were many elegant, well dressed women, wholly unattended by gentlemen, a circ.u.mstance by no means unusual in Paris. This place seemed to be raised by the magic touch of enchantment. We entered upon gravelled walks, which were cut through little winding, and intersecting hillocks of box; those which formed the sides were surmounted by orange trees, which presented a beautiful colonnade; immediately after we had pa.s.sed them, we entered an elegant treillage of honeysuckles, roses, and eglantine, which formed the grand entrance to the garden. Here a most animated scene of festivity opened upon us. On one side were rope dancers, people riding at the ring, groups of persons playing at shuttlec.o.c.k, which seemed to be the favourite, and I may add, the most ridiculous diversion; on the other side, were dancers, tumblers, mountebanks, and parties, all with gay countenances, seated in little bowers enjoying lemonade, and ices.

In the centre as we advanced, were about three hundred people, who were dancing the favourite waltz. This dance was brought from Germany, where, _from its nature_, the partners are always engaged lovers; but the french, who think that nothing can be blamable which is susceptible of elegance, have introduced the german dance, without adhering to the german regulation. The att.i.tudes of the waltz are very graceful, but they would not altogether accord with english female notions of delicacy. At a late fas.h.i.+onable parisian ball, a gentleman present was requested by the lady of the house, to waltz with a friend of hers, who was without a partner. The person of this neglected fair, was a little inclined to the meagre. The gallant, without the least embarra.s.sment, declined, observing, "Ah! ma chere Madame qu'exigez vous de moi, ne savez vous pas qu'elle n'a point de sein?" In the middle of the platform of the dancers, a very fine full band was playing. At the end of this raised stage, a very capacious indian marquee was erected, which was beautifully illuminated with variegated lamps, and under its broad canopy, a large concourse of people was seated, some were enjoying conversation, some were playing at buillotte, drinking coffee, &c.; behind this building, was a n.o.ble corinthian temple, from the doors of which, were covered trellis walks, leading to s.p.a.cious gardens, which were formed to display the different tastes of the english, french, and dutch nations, whose respective names they bore. These gardens are intersected by little ca.n.a.ls, upon which several persons were amusing themselves with the diversion of canoe racing. The whole was illuminated by large patent reflecting lamps, which shed a l.u.s.tre almost as brilliant as the day. A few english were present, amongst them were the d.u.c.h.ess of c.u.mberland, and a few other ladies. These gardens, previous to the revolution, were the property of a wealthy minister of France, who, it is said, expended near one hundred thousand pounds sterling, in bringing them to perfection, which he just saw accomplished, when he closed his eyes upon the scaffold. The nation became their next proprietor, who sold them for a large sum of money to their present owners.

From this place we went to Frescati, which is the promenade of the first beauty, and fas.h.i.+on of Paris, who generally a.s.semble about half past ten o'clock, after the opera is concluded. No admission money is required, but singular as it may seem, no improper intruder has yet appeared, a circ.u.mstance which may be accounted for by the awe which well bred society ever maintains over vulgarity. Frescati is situated in the Italian Boulevard; was formerly the residence of a n.o.bleman of large fortune, and has also undergone the usual transition of revolutionary confiscation. The streets leading to it were filled with carriages.

After ascending a flight of steps, from a handsome court yard, we entered a beautiful hall, which was lined with pier gla.s.ses, and decorated with festoons of artificial flowers, at the end of it was a fine statue of Venus de Medicis. On one side of this image was an arch, which led into a suite of six magnificent apartments, which were superbly gilt, painted, and also covered with pier gla.s.ses, and l.u.s.tres of fine diamond cut gla.s.s, which latter, looked like so many little glittering cascades. Each room was in a blaze of light, and filled with parties, who were taking ices, or drinking coffee. Each room communicated with the others, by arches, or folding doors of mirrors.

The garden is small, but very tastefully disposed. It is composed of three walks, which are lined with orange and acacia trees, and vases of roses. At the end is a tower mounted on a rock, temples, and rustic bridges; and on each side of the walks, are little labyrinth bowers. On the side next to the Boulevard, is a terrace which commands the whole scene, is lined on each side with beautiful vases of flowers, and is terminated at each end by alcoves, which are lined with mirrors. Here in the course of an hour, the astonished, and admiring stranger may see near three thousand females of the first beauty and distinction in Paris, whose cheeks are no longer disfigured by the corrosion of rouge, and who, by their symmetry and grace, would induce him to believe, that the loveliest figures of Greece, in her proudest era, were revived, and moving before him.

CHAPTER XIV.

_Convent of blue Nuns.--d.u.c.h.esse de Biron.--The b.l.o.o.d.y Key.--Courts of Justice.--Public Library.--Gobelines.--Miss Linwood.--Garden of Plants.--French Accommodation.--Boot Cleaners.--Cat and Dog Shearers.--Monsieur S---- and Family._

The english convent, or as it is called, the convent of blue nuns, in the Rue de St. Victoire, is the only establishment of the kind, which throughout the republic, has survived the revolution. To what cause its exclusive protection is attributable, is not, I believe correctly known.

But though this spot of sacred seclusion, has escaped the final stroke of extermination, it has sustained an ample share of the general desolation. During the time of terrour, it was converted into the crowded prison of the female n.o.bility, who were here confined, and afterwards dragged from its cloisters, and butchered by the guillotine, or the daggers of a.s.sa.s.sins. I had a letter of introduction to Mrs.

S----, one of the sisterhood, a lady of distinguished family in England.

I found her in the refectory. A dignified dejection overspread her countenance, and her figure seemed much emaciated by the scenes of horrour through which she had pa.s.sed. She informed me, that when the nuns were in a state of arrestation by the order of Robespierre, the convent was so crowded with prisoners, that they were obliged to eat their wretched meals in three different divisions. The places of the unhappy beings who were led off to execution, were immediately filled by fresh victims.