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 jusi 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.