LETTER IV.

PARIS, _July 8, 1814_.

You will take for granted we have seen all the exhibitions, libraries, &c., of Paris; they will wait for more ample description--a glance on one or two will be sufficient.

L'Hôpital des Invalides was, you know, famous for its magnificent dome, which was decorated with flags, standards, and trophies of the victorious arms of France; impatient to shew them to Edward, I hastened thither, but alas, not a pennant remains. On the near approach of the Allies they were taken down, and some say burnt, others buried, others removed to a distance. I asked one of the Invalides whether the Allies had not got possession of a few. With great indignation and animation he exclaimed, "Je suis aussi sûr que je suis de mon existence qu'il n'out pas pris un _seul_ même."

On Sunday last, after having hunted everywhere for a Protestant church, one of which we found at last by some blunder quite empty, we went with our landlord, a serjeant in the national guard, to inspect the heights of Chaumont, Belleville, and Mt. Martre.... We ascended from the town for about 3 miles to a sort of large rambling village, in situation and circumstances somewhat like Highgate. This was Belleville, whose heights run on receding from Paris a considerable distance, but terminate rather abruptly in the direction of Mont Martre, from which they are separated by a low, swampy valley containing all the dead horses, filth, and exuvious putrefactions of Paris.... Immediately below, extending for many miles, including St. Denis and other villages, are fine plains; upon which plains about 3 in the morning the Russians deployed, and the Spectacle must have been interesting beyond measure.... On the heights and towards the base were assembled part of Marmont's[45] army with their field pieces and some few heavier guns; there, too, were stationed the greater part of the students of l'Ecole Polytechnique, corresponding to our Woolwich cadets. Nothing could surpass their conduct when their brethren in arms fled; they clung to their guns and were nearly all annihilated. I was assured that their bodies were found in masses on the spot where they were originally stationed; their number was about 300.... I met a few in the course of the day who were, like ourselves, contemplating the field of battle, and who spoke like the rest of their countrymen of the baseness of Marmont and treachery of the day. The cannonade must have been pretty sharp while it lasted, as about 5,000 Russians perished before they got possession of the heights--though the actual operation of storming did not occupy half an hour--but their lines were quite open to a severe fire of grape from eminences commanding every inch of the plain. Whilst this work was going on at Belleville, another Russian column performed a similar service at Mt. Martre, which is nearer Paris--in fact, immediately above the Barriers.... Thither our guide next conducted us, and pointed out the particular spots where the assault and carnage were most desperate. A number of Parties were walking about and all talking of the battle or Bonaparte.... Till this day I had never heard him openly and honestly avowed, but here I had several opportunities of incorporating myself in groups in which his name was bandied about with every invective which French hatred and fluency could invent. Their tongues, like Baron Munchausen's horn, seemed to run with an accumulated rapidity from the long embargo laid upon them. "Sacré gueux, bête, voleur," &c., were the current coin in which they repaid his despotism, and I was happy to find that his conduct in Spain was by all held in utter detestation and considered as the ground work of his ruin.

I saw one party in such a state of bodily and mental agitation that I ran up expecting to see a battle, but the multiplicity of hands, arms, and legs which were rising, falling, wheeling, and kicking, were merely energetic additions to the general subject.... The National guard were not (with few exceptions) actually engaged. To the amount of 36,000 they occupied the towns and barriers, by all accounts guessing, or, as one intelligent conductor assured us, very certain that they would not be called upon to fight much for the defence of Paris.... Indeed, from all I have been able to learn, and from all I have been able to see, it appears pretty clear that no serious defence was intended--a little opposition was necessary for the look of the thing. And although Marmont might have done more, I feel convinced that had he exerted himself to the utmost, Paris must have perished.

The heights were defended in a very inadequate and unsoldierlike manner; not a single work was thrown up before the guns, no entrenchments, no bastions, and yet with three days' notice all this might have easily been done. The barriers all round Paris were, and still are, hemmed round with Palisades with loop holes, each of which might have been demolished by half a dozen rounds from a 6-pounder; the French, indeed, laugh at them and consider them as mere divertissements of Bonaparte's, and feeble attempts to excite a spirit of defence amongst the people--a spirit which, fortunately for Europe, was never excited. The lads of Paris had determined to take their chance and not to do one atom more than they were called upon or compelled to do. These wooden barriers are made of le bois de tremble (aspen), and the pun was that the fortifications "tremblaient partout." You will like to hear something of Edgeworth's friend, St. Jean d'Angély;[46] he came up to the barrier where our landlord (who had been formerly an imperial guardsman and fought in the battle of Marengo) was posted; here he called loudly for some brandy, for which he got laughed at by the whole line of guard; he then sallied forth and proceeded a short distance, when his horse took fright, and as St. Jean was, as our landlord told us, "entiérement du même avis avec son cheval," they both set off as fast as they could, and were in a few minutes far beyond all danger, nor did they appear again amid the din of arms. The fate of Paris was decided with a rapidity and sang-froid quite astonishing. By 5 o'clock in the Evening all was entirely at an end, and the national guard and allies incorporated and doing the usual duty of the town. They were, indeed, under arms a little longer than usual, and a few more sentries were placed and the theatre not open that Evening, but that single evening was the only exception, and the next day the Palais Royal was as brilliant and more cheerful than ever, with its motley groups of visitors. The Cossacks were not quartered in the Palais Royal, they were in the Ch. Elysées, the trees of which bear visible marks of their horses' teeth, but a good many came in from curiosity and hung their horses in the open space of the Palais.... The Russian discipline was most severe, and not an article was taken from any individual with impunity, immediate death was the punishment. The field of battle bore few marks of the event--a few skeletons of horses and rags of uniforms; the more surprising thing is that, notwithstanding all the trampling of horse and foot on the plains below so late as the end of March, the corn has not suffered in the slightest degree. I wish the Alderley crops were as good.

You have no idea of the severity of the conscription. That men can be attached to a being who dragged them, with such violence to every feeling, from their homes would be astonishing, but for the well-known force of the "selfish principle" which amalgamates their glory with his. A friend of our landlord's paid at various times 18,000 fr., about £900; he thought himself safe, but Bonaparte wanted a Volunteer guard of honour; he was told it would be prudent to enroll himself, which in consideration of the great sums he had paid would be merely a nominal business, and that he would never be called upon. He did put his name down; was called out in a trice and shot in the next campaign. Our waiter at Rouen assured me his friends had bought him off by giving in the first instance £25 for a substitute, with an annuity to the said substitute of an equal sum--pretty well this, for a poor lad of about 16.

Thanks to our landlord and not to Sir Charles Stuart, we might have been introduced into the Thuilleries, but came too late. We lost nothing, as after Mass the King marched through a beautiful sort of Glass gallery facing the Thuilleries Gardens, and then came out into a Balcony to shew himself to the crowd there assembled! he was received with universal and loud applause. "Vive le Roi!" was heard as loud as heart could wish, hats, sticks and handkerchiefs were flying in all directions. When he entered Paris, in one of the Barriers a sort of Archway was made and so contrived that as the carriage passed under a crown fell upon it, a band at the same time striking up "Où peut on être mieux que dans le sein de sa famille," which is, you know, one of their favourite airs.

Poor man, he has enough to do, and will, I fear, experience a turbulent reign. Bonaparte has left his troops 3 years in arrears, the treasury empty, two parties equally clamourous for places and pensions, both of which must be satisfied. Their taxes are heavier than I thought they were. Our landlord has an estate worth about 2,000 frcs., his father paid 200 fr. a year for it, and he is now under the necessity of paying 1,200, having only a clear surplus of 800, and the finances are at too low an ebb to allow of any immediate reduction in their taxes....

To take things in their course, I must now proceed to my dinner at Sir Charles Stuart's. I was shewn into a room where I found three or four Englishmen gaping at one another. Before many more had assembled, in came Sir C., and I _believe_, or rather I am willing to flatter myself, he made a sort of half bow towards us, and then we stood and gaped again; a few more words between him and one or two who were to go to Court the day after, but to me and some others not a syllable of any description was uttered, and when some more English were shewn in who were, I presume, as respectable as myself, his behaviour was quite boorish, he did not condescend to look towards the door. These things went on till a throng of Spaniards with Stars and orders came in; with these he appeared tolerably intimate, and also with three Englishmen who afterwards appeared. We were about 24 in number, and all I had to do in the half-hour preceding dinner was to look out for the most intelligent, gentleman-like-looking Englishman I could, to secure a place by him....

You will ask who I met. I protest to you that I went and returned without being able to learn more than that the secretary's name was Bidwell, and that one other person in company was a Mr. Martin, who had been agent for prisoners; of the rest I knew nothing, not even of my neighbour; birth, parentage, and education were alike involved in the cloud of diplomatic mystery which seemed to impend heavily over this mansion, and when my neighbour asked me, or I asked him, the names of any person present the answer was mutual--"I don't know." Sir Charles sat in the centre with a gold-coated Don on each side of him, with whom he might have whispered, for though I sat within two of his Excellency, I never heard the sound of his voice: however, my opinion may not coincide with all that pass from Calais to Dover, as I heard one man remark to another that his countenance was very pleasing, to which was added in reply, "and he is a very sensible man." These things may be, but I never met with one more perfect in the art of concealing his talents.

Now for the Jardin des Plantes and its lectures. This same Jardin is a large space appropriated to Botanical pursuits, public walks, menageries, museums, &c. There you see Bears and Lions and, in fact, the finest collection of Birds and Beasts alive, some in little paddocks, others in clean and airy dens. But this is the least part of this delightful establishment; its museums and cabinets are like the Louvre, the finest collection in the world. Everything is arranged in such order that it is almost impossible to see it without feeling a love of science; here the mineralogist, geologist, naturalist, entomologist may each pursue his favourite studies unmolested. Here, as everywhere else, the utmost liberality is shewn to all, but to Englishmen particularly, your country is your passport. Like the mysterious "Open Sesame" in the Arabian nights, you have only to say, "Je suis Anglais" and you go in and out at pleasure. I have seen Frenchmen begging in vain with ladies and officers of the party and turned away because they had happened on the wrong day or hour, and then we, without solicitation, have been desired to walk in. But all these museums and living animals, curious and interesting as they are, are surpassed by the still greater liberality shewn in the daily lectures given by the members of the Institute or Professors of the several sciences. I have attended Haiiy,[47] Duméril,[48] l'Ettorel, du Mare, and others upon Mineralogy, Nat. Hist., and Entomology, and Haiiy, you know, is the first mineralogist in Europe, and I never looked upon a more interesting being. When he entered the lecture room, every one rose out of respect, and well they might. He is 80 years of age apparently, with a most heavenly patriarchal countenance and silver hair; his teeth are gone, so that I could not understand a word he said, though, indeed, had he been possessed of all the teeth in Christendom I apprehend I should not have been much wiser, as he lectured on the angular forms of the Amphiboles. He looked like a man picked out of a crystal, and when he dies he ought to be reincarnated and placed in his own museum.

Another Scene to which I found my way was equally interesting: I went to a lecture on Iconographic drawing, or Science, as it was called, of representing natural subjects. In other words, when I got there I found it was a professorship of drawing, everything connected with Nat. Hist., such as flowers, animals, insects; and the Professor lectures one day and practically instructs on another. I happened to be present at one of the latter. Conceive my surprise at finding myself in a large library filled with tables, drawing books, ladies and gentlemen all sketching either from nature or excellent copies here. As it was not a public day except to those who wished to attend for instruction, I ought not with propriety to have intruded, but "J'étais Anglois" and every attention was paid. You would have given a little finger to have seen the room; it was a hot summer's day, but there all was cool and fragrant; the windows opened on the gardens, the tables were covered with groupes of flowers in vases; the company, about 40, were seated up and down where ever they chose, each with a nice desk and drawing board--in short, it was a scene which excited feelings of respect for a nation which thus patronised everything which could add to the rational improvement of its members. Were France the seat of religion and pure virtue it would be Utopia verified; but, alas! there are spots which stain the picture and cast a balance decidedly in favour of England: we are rough, we are narrow-minded, but he who travels is brought to confess and say "England! with all thy faults I love thee still." ...