Before and after Waterloo Part 6

Amongst others we had three French officers, prisoners returning home.

They had not met before that evening, but had you heard their incomparable voices when they sang their trios, you would have supposed they had practised together for years. Mr. John Cross alone surpa.s.sed them in their art. These gentlemen were certainly not _hostile_ to Bonaparte, but to gratify their musical taste they stuck at nothing--"G.o.d save the King," "Rule Britannia," "The Downfall of Paris"

were chaunted in swift succession, and the following commencement of one of their songs will show the popular opinion of Bonaparte's campaign in Russia:--

"Quel est le Monarque qui peut Etre si fou Que d'aller a Moscou Pour perdre sa grande armee?"

A fair wind brought us in sight of the French coast early on Sat.u.r.day.

At 11 we were under the headland of Havre, and at 12 anch.o.r.ed in the bay, and were in an instant surrounded by chattering boatfuls who talked much but did nothing. On landing we were escorted to the Pa.s.sport Office and most civilly received there; the difference, indeed, between public offices in England and France is quite glaring. Even the Custom house Officers apologised for keeping us waiting for the form of searching; and tho' the Underlings condescended to take a Franc or two, the Officer himself, when I offered money, turned away his head and hand and cried, "Ba, Ba, Non, Non," with such apparent sincerity that I felt as if I had insulted him by offering it....

The whole process of getting our pa.s.sports signed, &c., being over, we went to an Hotel. "Ici, garcon, vite mettez Messieurs les Anglois a l'onzieme," cried a landlady--and such a landlady! and up we scampered to the 5th storey (there are more still above us) and to this said, "No onzieme." ...

We lost no time in the evening in looking about us; the town is situated about two miles up the Seine on a sort of Peninsula surrounded with very regular and strong fortifications. Its docks are incomparable, and Bonaparte would have added still more to their magnificence, but now all is at a stand--the gra.s.s is quietly filling up s.p.a.ces. .h.i.therto taken up by soldiers, Workmen, shot and guns; the numberless merchant vessels in a state of decay proved sufficiently the entire destruction of all trade; but what gave me particular satisfaction was the sight of a flotilla of Praams, luggers, intended for the invasion of England, all reposing in a happy progress to speedy putrefaction and decay. About a mile from the town on the hill is a beautiful village called St. Michel, where the Havre citizens have country houses. The town itself is as singular as heart can wish--indeed, I am firmly convinced that the difference between the towns of the Earth and Moon is not greater than that between those of England and France. I scarcely know how to describe it to you. Conceive to yourself a long street of immensely tall houses from 5 to 8 Stories, _huddled_, for huddling is the only word which can convey my meaning, and in truth their extraordinary height and narrow breadth seem rather the effect of compression than design....

These houses are inhabited by various families of various occupations and tastes, so that each Storey has its own peculiar character--here you see a smart Balcony with windows to the ground, garnished above and below with the insignia of was.h.i.+ng woman or taylor. They are built of all materials, though I think chiefly of wood (like our old Ches.h.i.+re houses) and stucco; and, thanks to time and the filth and poverty of the people, their exterior a.s.sumes a general tint of pleasing dirty picturesque. This said dirt may have its advantages as far as the eye is concerned, but the nose is terribly a.s.sailed by the innumerable compounded Effluvias which flow from every Alley-hole and corner. For the people and their dress! who shall venture to describe the things I have seen in the shape of caps, hats and bonnets, cloaks and petticoats, &c.? There I meet a group of Oldenburg Bonnets broader and more loaded with flowers, bunches, bows, plumes than any we saw in London, and would you believe it I am already not merely getting reconciled but absolutely an admirer of them.

Having pa.s.sed the groups of bonnets I meet at the next moment a set of beings ycleped Poissardes, caparisoned with coverings of all sorts, shapes, and sizes--here flaps a head decorated with lappets like b.u.t.terflies' wings--here nods a bower of cloth and pins tall and narrow as the houses themselves, but I must not be too prolix on any one particular subject.

_Sunday._

We have been to the great Church. It was full, very full, but the congregation nearly all female.

There is certainly something highly imposing and impressive in that general spirit of outward devotion at least which pervades all ranks.

Nothing can be finer than their music: we had a sermon, too, and not a bad one. The order of things is somewhat reversed. In England we wear white bands and black gown, here the preacher had black bands and white gown, and I fear the eloquence of St. Paul would not prevent the smiles of my hearers in Alderley Church were I to pop on my head in the middle of the discourse a little black cap of which I enclose an accurate representation.

What shall I say of political feeling? I think they appear to think or care very little about it; the military are certainly dissatisfied and the Innkeepers delighted, but further I know not what to tell you; I am told, however, that the new proclamation for the more decent observance of Sunday, by forcing the Shopkeepers to shut up their shops during Ma.s.s, is considered a great grievance.....

LETTER II.

ROUEN, _June 28, 1814_.

Foolish people are those who say it is not worth while to cross the water for a week. For a week! why, for an hour, for a minute, it would be worth the trouble--in a glance a torrent of news, ideas, feelings, and conceptions are poured in which are valuable through life. We staid at Havre till Monday morning, and though a Cantab friend of Edward's, on bundling into his cabriolet, expressed his astonishment we would think of staying a day, when he had seen more than enough of the filthy place in an hour, we amused ourselves very well till the moment of departure....

At 4 on Monday we stepped into the cabriolet or front part of our diligence, on the panels of which was written "Fugio ut Fulgor," and though appearances were certainly against anything like compliance with this notice, the result was much nearer than I could have conceived.

Five horses were yoked to this unwieldy caravan--two to the pole, and three before, and on one of these pole horses mounted a Driver without Stockings in Jack Boots, crack went an enormous whip, and away galloped our 5 coursers. It is astonis.h.i.+ng how they can be managed by such simple means, yet so it was; we steered to a nicety sometimes in a trot, sometimes in a canter, sometimes on a full gallop.

The time for changing horses by my watch was not more than one minute--before you knew one stage was pa.s.sed another was commenced; they gave us 5 minutes to eat our breakfast--an operation something like that of ducks in a platter, the dish consisting of coffee and milk with rolls sopped in it. The roads are incomparable--better than ours and nearly if not quite as good as the Irish. The country from Havre to Rouen is rich in corn of every description--there is nothing particular in the face of it, and yet you would, if awakened from a dream, at once declare you were not in England; in the first place there are no hedges--the road was almost one continuous avenue of apple-trees; the timber trees are not planted in hedgerows but in little clumps or groves, sometimes but generally rather removed from the road, and it is amongst these that the villages and cottages are concealed, for it is surprising how few in comparison with England are seen. The trees are of two descriptions--either trimmed up to the very top or cut off so as to form underwood. I did not observe one that could be called a branching tree; the finest beech we saw looked like a pole with a tuft upon it. The cottages are mostly of clay, generally speaking very clean, and coming nearer to what I should define a cottage to be than ours in England.

You see no cows in the fields, they are all tethered by the road-side or other places, by which a considerable quant.i.ty of gra.s.s must be saved, and each is attended by an old woman or child. We pa.s.sed through 2 or 3 small towns and entered Rouen 8 hours after quitting Havre, 57 miles.

Rouen, beautiful Rouen, we entered through such an avenue of n.o.ble trees, its spires, hills and woods peeping forth, and the Seine winding up the country, wide as the Thames at Chelsea.

Such a gateway! I have made a sketch, but were I to work it up for a month it would still fall far short and be an insult to the subject it attempts to represent. If Havre can strike the eye of a stranger, what must not Rouen do? Every step teems with novelty and richness, Gothic gateways, halls, and houses. What are our churches and cathedrals in England compared to the n.o.ble specimens of Gothic architecture which here present themselves?... Rouen has scarcely yet recovered from the dread they were in of the Cossacks, who were fully expected, and all valuables secreted--not that they were absolutely without news from the capital: the diligence had been stopped only once during the three days after the Allies entered Paris. Till then they had proceeded _comme a l'ordinaire_, and the diligence in which we are to proceed to-night left it when Shots were actually pa.s.sing over the road during the battle of Montmartre--how they could find pa.s.sengers to quit it at such an interesting moment I cannot conceive; had I been sure of being eaten up by a Horde of Cossacks, I could not have left the spot.

What an odd people the French are! they will not allow they were in ignorance of public affairs before the entrance of the Allies. "Oh no, we had the Gazettes," they say, and I cannot find that they considered these Gazettes as doubtful authorities. We have plenty of troops here--genuine veterans horse and foot; I saw them out in line yesterday.

The men were soldier-like looking fellows enough, but one of our cavalry regiments would have trotted over their horses in a minute without much ceremony; the army is certainly dissatisfied. Marmont is held in great contempt; they will have it he betrayed Paris, and say it would be by no means prudent for him to appear at the head of a line when there was any firing. The people may or may not like their emanc.i.p.ation from tyranny, but their vanity--they call it glory--has been tarnished by the surrender of Paris, and they declare on all hands that if Marmont had held out for a day Bonaparte would have arrived, and in an instant settled the business by defeating the Allies. In vain may you hint that he was inferior in point of numbers (to say anything of the skill and merit of the Russians perhaps would not have been very prudent), and that he could not have succeeded. A doubting shake of the head, significant shrug of the shoulders, and expressive "Ba, Ba," explain well enough their opinions on the subject.

I cannot conceive a more grating badge to the officers than the white c.o.c.kade--the fleur de lys is now generally adopted in place of the N and other insignia of Bonaparte, but, excepting from some begging boys, I have never heard the cry of "Vive Louis XVIII.!" and then it was done, I shrewdly suspect, as an acceptable cry for the Anglois, and followed immediately by "un pauvre pet.i.t liard, s'il vous plait, Mons." We went to the play last night; the house was filthy beyond description, and the company execrable as far as dress went; few women, and those in their morning dress and Oldenburg Bonnets--the men almost all officers, and a horrid-looking set they were. I would give them credit for military talents; they all looked like chiefs of banditti--swarthy visages, immense moustachios, vulgar, disgusting, dirty, and ill-bred in their appearance.

From all I hear the account of the duels between these and the Russian officers at Paris were perfectly correct.[39]

I am just come in from a stroll about the town. Among the most interesting circ.u.mstances that occurred was the inspection of detachments of several regiments quartered there. I happened to be close to the General when he addressed some Grenadiers de la Garde Imperiale on the subject of their dismissal, which it seems they wanted. They spoke to him without any respect, and on his explaining the terms on which their dismissal could alone be had, they appeared by no means satisfied, and when he went I heard one of them in talking to a party collected round him say, "Eh bien, s'il ne veut pas nous congedier, nous pa.s.serons." A man standing by told me a short time ago a regiment of Imperial Cha.s.seurs when called upon to shout "Vive Louis XVIII.!" at Boulogne, to a man, officers included, cried "Vive Napoleon!" and I feel very certain that had the same thing been required to-day from the soldiers on the field, they would have acted in the same manner, and that the spectators would have cried "Amen."

I heard abundance of curious remarks on the subject of the war, the peace, and the changes; they will have it they were not conquered. "Oh no." "Paris ne fut jamais vaincue--elle s'est soumise seulement!" I leave it to your English heads to define the difference between submission and conquest.

Beef and mutton are 5d. per lb. here. Chickens 3s. the couple, though 24 per cent. was probably added to me as an Englishman. Bread a 100 per cent. cheaper than in England--at least so I was informed by an Englishman in the commercial line. Fish cheap as dirt at Havre, 3 John Dorys for 6d.

From Havre to Rouen, 57 miles, cost us 1 6s. for both; from thence to Paris, 107 miles, 2; our dinners, including wine, are about 4s. a head; breakfast 2s., beds 1s. 6d. each.

LETTER III.

PARIS, _June 30th_.

Here we arrived about an hour ago; for the last two miles the country was a perfect garden--cherries, gooseberries, apple-trees, corn, vineyards, all chequered together in profusion; in other respects nothing remarkable....

The first sight of Paris, or rather its situation, is about 10 miles off, when the heights of Montmartre, on one side, and the dome of the Hopital des Invalides on the other reminded us of their trophies and disasters at the same time....

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLD BRIDGE AND CHaTELET.

_Paris July 4, 1814_

_To face p. 108._

Now you must enter our rooms in l'Hotel des Etrangers, rue du Hazard, as I know you wish to see minutely. First walk, if you please, into an antechamber paved with red hexagon tiles (dirty enough, to be sure), and the saloon also, into which you next enter through a pair of folding doors. This saloon is in the genuine tawdry French style--gold and silver carving work and dirt are the component features. It is about 20 feet square, plenty of chairs, sofas of velvet, and so forth, but only one wretched rickety table in the centre. Two folding doors open into our bedroom, which is in furniture pretty much like the rest; the beds are excellent--fitted up in a sort of tent fas.h.i.+on--and mine has a looking-gla.s.s occupying the whole of one side, in which I may at leisure contemplate myself in my night-cap, for I cannot discover for what other purpose it was placed there.

Now let us take a walk--put on thick shoes or you will find yourself rather troubled with the paving stones, for nothing like a flagged footpath exists; a slight inclination from each side terminates in a central gutter, from which are exploded showers of mud by the pa.s.sing carriages and cabriolets. You must get on as you can; horse and foot, coaches and carts are jumbled together, and he who walks in Paris must have his eyes about him. The streets are in general narrow and irregular, and so much alike that it requires no small skill to find one's way home again. Ariadne in Paris would wish for her clue. First we ascended the bronze column[40] in the Place de Vendome--figure to yourself a column perfect in proportions much resembling Nelson's in Dublin, ornamented after the plan of Trajan's pillar--all of bronze, on which the operations of the wars and victories in Germany are recorded.

Bonaparte's statue crowned it, but that was removed. The column itself, however, will remain an eternal statue commemorating his deeds, and though the Eagles and letter N are rapidly effacing from every quarter, this must last till Paris shall be no more. From the top of this pillar you of course have a magnificent view, and it must have been a choice spot from whence to behold the fight of Montmartre. It will scarcely interest you much to say much about the other public buildings, suffice it to say that all the improvements are in the very best style--magnificent to the last degree; they may be the works of a Tyrant, but it was a Tyrant of taste, who had more sense than to spend 120,000 Louis in sky-rockets. His public buildings at least were for the public good, and were ornaments to his capital.

But let us turn from inanimate to living objects; since I penned the last line I have been sitting with Mme. de Stael.... By appointment we called at 12.[41] For a few moments we waited in a gaudy drawing-room; the door then opened and an elderly form dressed _a la jeunesse_ appeared; she is not ugly; she is not vulgar (Edward begs to differ from this opinion, he thinks her ugly beyond measure); her countenance is pleasing, but very different from anything my fancy had formed; a pale complexion not far from that of a white Mulatto, if you will allow me to make the bull; her eyebrows dark and her hair quite sable, dry and crisp like a negro's, though not quite so curling. She scarcely gave me time to make my compliments in French before she spoke in fluent English. I was not sorry she fought under British colors, for though she was never at a loss, I knew I could express and defend myself better than had she spoken in French. I hurried her as much as decency would permit from one subject to another, but I found politics were uppermost in her thoughts.... She was equally averse to both parties--to the royal because she said it was despotism; the Imperial because it was tyranny.

"Is there," said I, "no happy medium; are there none who can feel the advantages of liberty, and wish for a free const.i.tution?" "None," said she, "but myself and a few--some 12 or 15--we are nothing; not enough to make a dinner party." I ventured to throw in a little flattery--I knew my ground--and remarked that an opinion like hers, which had in some measure influenced Europe, was in itself an host; the compliment was well received, and in truth I could offer it _conscientiously_ to pay tribute to her abilities.

On leaving Mme. de S. we paid another visit. From the greatest woman we went to see our greatest man in Paris, Sir Charles Stuart,[42] to whom Lord Sheffield had given me a letter of introduction. This had been sent the day before, and of course I now went to see the effect. After waiting in the Anti-chamber of the great man for about half an hour, and seeing divers and sundry faces pa.s.s and repa.s.s in review, we were summoned to an audience. We found a little, vulgar-looking man, whom I should have mistaken for the great man's butler if he had not first given a hint that he was bona fide the great man himself. I think the conversation was nearly thus: E. S.: "Pray, Sir, are the Marshalls in Paris, and if so is it easy to see them?" Sir C. S.: "Upon my soul I don't know." E. S.: "Pray, Sir, is there anything interesting to a stranger like myself likely to take place in the course of the next fortnight?" Sir C. S.: "Upon my soul I don't know." E. S.: "Pray, Sir, is the interior of the Thuilleries worth seeing, and could we easily see the apartments?" Sir C. S.: "Upon my soul I don't know." This, I do a.s.sure you, was the cream of the conversation. Now certainly a great man ought to look wise and say he does not know so and so, when in fact he knows all about it, but somehow or other I could not help thinking that Sir Charles spoke the truth, for if I may draw any inference from Physiognomy, I never saw a face upon which the character of "upon my soul I don't know" was more visibly stamped. I left my card, bowed, and retired....

I next turned my eyes to the Louvre.[43] What are the exhibitions of London, modern or ancient? What are Lord Stafford's, Grosvenor's, Angerstein's, &c., in comparison with this unrivalled gallery? Words cannot describe the coup d'il. Figure to yourself a magnificent room so long that you would be unable to recognise a person at the other extremity, so long that the perspective lines terminate in a point, covered with the finest works of art all cla.s.sed and numbered so as to afford the utmost facility of inspection; no questions asked on entering, no money to be given to bowing porters or butlers, no cards of admission procured by interest--all open to the public view, unfettered and unshackled; the liberality of the exhibition is increased by the appearance of Easels and desks occupied by artists who copy at leisure.

It is n.o.ble and grand beyond imagination. In the Halls below are the Statues, arranged with equal taste, though, as they are in different rooms, the general effect is not so striking. I recognised all my old friends, the Venus de Medicis was alone new to me. She is sadly mutilated, but is still the admiration of all persons of sound judgment and orthodox taste, amongst whom, I regret to say, I deserve not to be cla.s.sed, as I really cannot enter into the merits of statues, and the difference between a perfect and moderate specimen of sculpture appears to me infinitely less than between good and moderate paintings....

After dining at a Restaurateur's, who gave us a most excellent dinner, wine, &c., for about 3s. a head, we went to the Theatre Francais, or the Drury Lane of Paris. We expected to see Talma[44] in Merope, but his part was taken by one who is equally famous, Dufour, and the female part by Mme. Roncour. She was intolerable, though apparently a great favourite; he tolerable, and that is all I can say. In truth, French tragedy is little to my taste.... The best part of the play was the opportunity it afforded "les bonnes gens" de Paris to show their loyalty, and much gratified I was in hearing some enthusiastic applause of certain pa.s.sages as they applied to the return of their ancient sovereign. There is something very sombre and vulgar in the French playhouses with the men's boots and the women's bonnets. Could I in an instant waft you from the solitudes of Stoke to the clatter of Paris, how you would stare to see the boxes filled with persons almost extinguished in their enormous casques of straw and flowers. I have seen several bearing, in addition to other ornaments, a bunch of 5 or 6 lilies as large as life....

[Ill.u.s.tration: POMP. NOTRE DAME.

_Paris, July 11, 1814._

_To face p. 115._]

LETTER IV.

PARIS, _July 8, 1814_.