The Stranger in France Part 11

This palace was allotted to the celebrated Council of Five Hundred.

During their ephemeral reign, these very rooms were designed for their halls of audience, and levees, the rich mouldings, and cornices of which were half gilt, and covered with silver paper to preserve them: the poor council were never indulged in a house warming.

The pictures, which were collected by Henry IV, and deposited in the gallery there, which bears his name, are said to be valuable. I did not see them, on account of their having been removed into store rooms during the repairs of the palace.

It was late when I left the Luxembourg, and somewhat exhausted for want of refreshment, I determined upon dining at the first restaurateur's which I could meet with, instead of going to the Gardens of the Thuilleries. To find such an accommodation in Paris, is no difficult thing. A stranger would naturally suppose, from the frequency with which the words caffe, limonade, and restaurateur present themselves to the eye, that three parts of the inhabitants had turned their talents to the valuable study of relieving the cravings of an empty stomach.

I had not moved three yards down the Rue de Tournon, before, on my left, I saw the welcome board which, in large golden characters, announced the very best entertainment within. At this moment, the celebrated picture of the banquet in the Louvre, could scarcely have afforded me more delight. I had an excellent dinner, wine, and fruit for four livres. In the course of my repast, I begged that a knife, might be permitted to aid the services of a three p.r.o.nged silver fork, which graced my plate on the left. After rather a laborious search, my wishes were gratified by an instrument, which certainly was ent.i.tled to the name of one, but was a.s.suredly not the handsomest of its species. Whether there had been any dispute between the handle, and the blade, I know not, but there were very evident appearances of an approaching separation. Not wishing to augment the rupture, between two personages so necessary to each others service, and to those who were to be benefitted by it, I begged of my fair hostess, who, with two pretty girls (her daughters), were picking the stalks from some strawberries, which were intended for my desert, at the other end of the room, that she would favour me with another knife. The maitresse d'hotel, who had a pair of fine dark expressive eyes, very archly said, "Why would you wish to change it, Sir? it is an english one." It certainly looked like one; no compliment could be neater. Whether I gave it too great a lat.i.tude of interpretation, I will not pretend to say, but it led me into such a train of happy _comparative thinking_, that I ate my dinner with it very comfortably, without saying another word. I have since thought, that the maitresse d'hotel had not another knife in her house, but what was in use.

In France, I have before had occasion to remark, that fanciful notions of excessive delicacy, are not permitted to interfere with comfort, and convenience. Amongst these people, every thing turns upon the principle of accommodation. To this motive I attribute the frequent exhibition, over the doors of respectable looking houses, in the fashionable walks, and in different parts of Paris, of the following characters, "Commodites pour Hommes, et Femmes." An english prude would start to read these words. I mention this circ.u.mstance, for the purpose of communicating some idea of the people, convinced, as I well am, that it is only by detail, that we can become acquainted with the peculiar characteristics of any community.

I very often pa.s.sed by the ci-devant Hall of the National Convention; in which the hapless king and queen were doomed to the scaffold, where murder was legitimated, religion denounced, and the grave declared to be the bed of _eternal repose_.

In vindication of the ways of eternal justice, even upon earth, this polluted pile is partic.i.p.ating the fate of its devoted members.

Those walls which once resounded with the florid, heightened declamation of republican visionaries, the most worthless, imposing, and desperate of mankind, are prevented, for a short time, by a few crazy props, from covering the earth below with their dust and ruins. The famed temple of the G.o.ddess of Liberty, is not tenantable enough to cover the Babel Deity from the peltings of the midnight storm.

Where is now the enthusiastic Gironde, where the volcanic mountain, the fiery, and eloquent Mirabeau, the wily Brissot, the atheistic Lequinios, the remorseless Marat, the b.l.o.o.d.y St. Just, and the chief of the deplumed and fallen legions of equality? All is desolate and silent. The gaping planks of the guillotine are imbued with their last traces. The haunt of the banditti is uncovered. The revolution has preyed upon her own children, and metaphysical murderers have perished by the daggers of speculative republicans.

About two years since this place was converted into a menagerie. The cave, and the wilderness, the desert, and the jungle, presented to the eye of the beholder, representative successors of those savages who, with more powers and more ferocity, were once enclosed within the same den. From the remembrance of such miscreants, I turn, with increased satisfaction, to the traces of approaching civilization, which mark the career of the present government, in which the want of suitable splendour no longer repels the approach and friendship of those nations which once shuddered at the idea of coming into contact with the infected rags of visionary fraternity. Some indications of this change I saw pourtrayed at the levee of Monsieur Talleyrand, the minister of foreign relations, when I had the honour of being presented to that able and celebrated politician by Mr. B. The hotel of Talleyrand is very superb. We entered the court yard through two lines of about twenty carriages in waiting. Under the portico, were several turks seated, who formed a part of the suite of the turkish emba.s.sador, who had just arrived, and was then closetted with Monsieur T----.

We pa.s.sed through several n.o.ble apartments, preceded by servants, to a magnificent levee room, in which we met most of the foreign emba.s.sadors who were then at the consular court.

After waiting some time, the folding doors of the cabinet opened, the turkish emba.s.sy came out, making their grand salams, followed by Talleyrand, in his rich costume of embroidered scarlet, his hair full dressed, and a shining sabre by his side.

In his person, he is small and thin, his face is "pale and penetrating."

He always looks obliquely, his small quick eyes and features, very legibly express mildness, wit, and subtilty. His right leg appears contracted. His address is insinuating. As the spirit of aggrandizement, which is said to have actuated the public and private conduct of Monsieur T----has been so much talked of, it may, perhaps, excite some surprise, when it is mentioned that several persons who know him well, some of whom esteem him, and with some of whom he is not a favourite, declare, notwithstanding the anecdotes related of X Y, and Monsieur Beaucoup d'Argent, in the american prints, that they consider him to be a man, whose mind is raised above the influence of corruption. Monsieur T----may be cla.s.sed amongst the rarest curiosities in the revolutionary cabinet. Allied by an ill.u.s.trious ancestry to the Bourbons, and a royalist from his birth, he was, with unusual celerity, invested with the episcopal robe and crosier[11]. During the temporary triumph of the abstract rights of man, over the practicable rights of reason, he moved with the boisterous cavalcade, with more caution than enthusiasm. Upon the celebrated national recognition of the sovereignty of man's _will_, in the Champs de Mars, the politic minister, adorned in snowy robes, and tricolor ribands, presided at the altar of the republic as its high priest, and bestowed his patriarchal benedictions upon the standard of France, and the banners of her departments.

[11] Monsieur Talleyrand is ex-bishop of Autun.

Some time afterwards, in the shape of a secret unaccredited negotiator, he was discovered in the metropolis of England, and immediately transferred, upon the spread wings of the alien bill, to his own sh.o.r.es.

Since that period, after having dissociated and neutralized the most formidable foes of his country, by the subtle stratagems of his consummate diplomacy, we beheld him as the successor of la Croix, armed with the powers, and clothed in the gaudy costume of the minister of foreign relations. In the _polished Babel_ of the antichamber of this extraordinary man, I have beheld the starred and glittering representatives of the most distinguished princes of the earth waiting for hours, with exemplary resignation, contemplating themselves, in all their positions, in his reduplicating mirrors, or examining the splendour and exquisite ingenuity of his time pieces, until the silver sound of his little bell announced, that the invoked and lagging moment of ministerial leisure was arrived.

It is certain that few people possess the valuable qualities of imperturbable calmness and self possession, more than Monsieur T----.

Balanced by these amiable and valuable qualities, he has been enabled to ride the political whirlwind, and in the diplomatic cabinet, to collect some advantage from the prejudices or pa.s.sions of all who approached him. The caution and cunning of T---- have succeeded, where the sword and impetuous spirit of Bonaparte would have been unavailing. The splendour of his apartments, and of many of the personages present, displayed a very courtlike appearance, and inclined a stranger, like myself, to think, that nothing of the old government was missing, but the expatriated family of France.

CHAPTER XIX.

_The College of the Deaf and Dumb.--Abbe Sicard.--Bagatelle.--Police.--Grand National Library.--Bonaparte's Review.--Tambour Major of the Consular Regiment.--Restoration of Artillery Colours._

I had long antic.i.p.ated the delight which I expected to derive from the interesting public lecture of the abbe Sicard, and the examination of his pupils. This amiable and enlightened man presides over an inst.i.tution which endears his name to humanity, and confers unfading honour upon the nation which cherishes it by its protection and munificence. My reader will immediately conclude that I allude to the College of the Deaf and Dumb. By the genius and perseverance of the late abbe Charles Michael de l'Epee, and his present amiable successor, a race of fellow beings, denied by a privation of hearing, of the powers of utterance, insulated in the midst of mult.i.tudes bearing their own image, and cut off from the partic.i.p.ation, within sight, of all the endearing intercourses of social life, are restored, as it were, to the blessings of complete existence. The glorious labours of these philanthropists, in no very distant ages, would have conferred upon them, the reputation and honours of beings invested with superhuman influence. By making those faculties which are bestowed, auxiliary to those which are denied, the deaf are taught to hear, and the dumb to speak. A silent representative language, in which the eye officiates for the ear, and communicates the charms of science, and the delights of common intercourse to the mind, with the velocity, facility, and certainty of sound, has been presented to these imperfect children of nature. The plan of the abbe, I believe, is before the world. It cannot be expected, in a fugitive sketch like the present, to attempt an elaborate detail of it. Some little idea of its rudiments may, perhaps, be imparted, by a plain description of what pa.s.sed on the examination day, when I had the happiness of being present.

On the morning of the exhibition, the streets leading to the College were lined with carriages, for humanity has here made a convert of fashion, and directed her wavering mind to objects from which she cannot retire, without ample and consoling gratification. Upon the lawn, in front of the College, were groups of the pupils, enjoying those sports and exercises which are followed by other children, to whom Providence has been more bountiful. Some of their recreations required calculation, and I observed that their intercourse with each other appeared to be easy, swift, and intelligible. They made some convulsive movements with their mouths, in the course of their communication, which, at first, had rather an unpleasant effect. In the cloister I addressed myself to a genteel looking youth, who did not appear to belong to the College, and requested him to shew me the way to the theatre, in which the lecture was to be delivered. I found he took no notice of me. One of the a.s.sistants of the abbe, who was standing near me, informed me, he was deaf and dumb, and made two or three signs, too swift for me to discriminate; the silent youth bowed, took me by the hand, led me into the theatre, and, with the greatest politeness, procured me an excellent seat. The room was very crowded, and in the course of a quarter of an hour after I had entered, every avenue leading to it was completely filled with genteel company. The benches of the auditors of the lecture, displayed great beauty and fashion, a stage, or tribune, appeared in front, behind was a large inclined slate, in a frame, about eight feet high, by six long. On each side of the stage the scholars were placed, and behind the spectators was a fine bust of the founder of the inst.i.tution, the admirable de l'Epee.

The abbe Sicard mounted the tribune, and delivered his lecture with very pleasing address, in the course of which he frequently excited great applause. The subject of it was an a.n.a.lysis of the language of the deaf and dumb, interspersed with several curious experiments upon, and anecdotes of his pupils. The examination of the scholars next followed.

The communication which has been opened to them in this singular manner, is by the _philosophy of grammar_.

The denotation of the tenses is effected by appropriate signs. The hand thrown over the shoulder, expressed the past, when extended, like the att.i.tude of inviting, it denoted the future, and the finger inverted upon the breast, indicated the present tense. A single sign communicated a word, and frequently a sentence. A singular instance of the first occurred. A gentleman amongst the spectators, who appeared to be acquainted with the art of the abbe, was requested to make a sign, to the pupil then under examination, the moment it was made, the scholar chalked upon the slate, in a fine swift flowing hand, "une homme." The pupil erred; the gentleman renewed the sign; when he immediately wrote, "une personne," to the astonishment of every person present. This circ.u.mstance is a strong instance of the powers of discrimination, of which this curious communication is susceptible.

Some of the spectators requested the abbe to describe, by signs, several sentences which they repeated from memory, or read from authors, which were immediately understood by the pupils, and penciled upon the slate.

The lecture and examination lasted about three hours. Upon the close of this interesting exhibition, a silent sympathy reigned throughout the spectators. Every face beamed with satisfaction. A tear was seen trembling in the eyes of many present. After a momentary pause, the hall rang with acclamations. Elegant women pressed forward in the crowd, to present some little token of their delighted feelings to the children protected by this inst.i.tution. It was a spectacle, in which genius was observed a.s.sisting humanity, and nature in a suffusion of grat.i.tude, weeping over the hallowed and propitious endeavours of the good, the generous, and the enlightened. Well might the elegant and eloquent Kotzebue select from such a spot, a subject for his pathetic pen, and give to the british Roscius of the present day[12], the power of enriching its drama, by a fresh display of his unrivalled abilities. The exhibition of the Deaf and Dumb will never be eradicated from my mind.

The tears which were shed on that day, seemed almost sufficient to wipe away the recollection of those times, in which misery experienced no mitigation; when every one trembling for himself, had no unabsorbed sensation of consoling pity to bestow upon the unfortunate. Those times are gone--May their absence be eternal! This inst.i.tution is made serviceable to the state. A pupil of the College is one of the chief clerks of the national lottery office, in which he distinguishes himself by his talents, his calculation, and upright deportment.

[12] Mr. Kemble brought out the pathetic play of Deaf and Dumb, in which he sustains the character of the abbe de l'Epee with admirable effect.

Whilst the subject is before me, I beg leave to mention a curious circ.u.mstance which was related by a very ingenious and honourable man, in a party where I happened to be present, to prove the truth and agreement of nature, in her a.s.sociation of ideas. A blind man was asked by him, to what sound he resembled the sensation produced by touching a piece of red cloth, he immediately replied, to the sound of a trumpet. A pupil of the College of the Deaf and Dumb, who could faintly hear a loud noise, if applied close to his ear, was asked, to what colour he could compare the sound of a trumpet, he said, it always excited in his mind, the remembrance of scarlet cloth[13]. Two pupils, male and female, of the same College, who had been placed near cannon, when discharged, without being susceptible of the sound, were one day taken by their humane tutor, into a room where the harmonica was playing; a musical instrument, which is said to have a powerful influence over the nerves.

He asked them by signs, if they felt any sensation. They replied in the negative. He then placed the hand of the girl upon the instrument, whilst it was playing, and repeated the question, she answered, that she felt a new pleasure enter the ends of her fingers, pa.s.s up her arms, and penetrate her heart.

[13] The first experiment is well known. It is also noticed in Locke upon the Human Understanding.

The same experiment was tried upon her companion, who seemed to be sensible of similar sensations of delight, but less acutely felt.

The emotions of sympathy are, perhaps, more forcibly excited by music than by any other cause. An ill.u.s.trious example of its effect is introduced into Boerhaave's academical lectures on the diseases of the nerves, published by Van Eems. Theodosius the Great, by levying an excessive tribute, inflamed the minds of the people of Antioch against him, who prostrated his statues, and slew his amba.s.sadors.

Upon coolly reflecting on what they had done, and remembering the stern and ruthless nature of their sovereign, they sent deputies to implore his clemency and forgiveness. The tyrant received them, without making any reply. His chief minister lamenting the condition of these unhappy people, resolved upon an expedient to move the soul of his offended prince to mercy. He accordingly instructed the youths whose office it was to entertain the emperor with music during dinner, to perform an affecting and pathetic piece of music, composed for the purpose. The plaintive sounds soon began to operate. The emperor, unconscious of the cause, bedewed his cup with tears, and when the singers artfully proceeded to describe the sufferings of the people of Antioch, their imperial master could no longer contain himself, but, moved by their pathos, although unaccustomed to forgive, revoked his vengeance, and restored the terrified offenders to his royal favour.

Madame E----, who is considered the first dilettante mistress of music in Paris, related to me, an experiment which she once tried upon a young woman who was totally deaf and dumb. Madame E---- fastened a silk thread about her mouth, and rested the other end upon her piano forte, upon which she played a pathetic air. Her visitor soon appeared much affected, and at length burst into tears. When she recovered, she wrote down upon a piece of paper, that she had experienced a delight, which she could not express, and that it had forced her to weep.

I must reluctantly retire from this pleasing subject, by wishing that the abbe may long enjoy a series of blissful years, and that his n.o.ble endeavours, "manifesting the enlightened times in which we live," may meet with that philanthropic success, which, to _his_ generous mind, will be its most desired reward _here_; a.s.sured, as he is, of being crowned with those unfading remunerations which are promised to the good _hereafter_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Bagatelle in the Bois de Boulogne._]

I one day dined at Bagatelle, which is about four miles from Paris, in the Bois du Bologne, the parisian Hyde Park, in which the fashionable equestrian, upon his norman hunter,

--------------------------"with heel insidiously aside, Provokes the canter which he seems to chide."

The duellist also, in the covert windings of this vast wood, seeks reparation for the trifling wrong, and bleeds himself, or slaughters his antagonist. Bagatelle was formerly the elegant little palace of the count d'Artois. The gardens and grounds belonging to it, are beautifully disposed. What a contrast to the gloomy shades of Holyrood House, in which the royal fugitive, and his wretched followers, have found an asylum!

The building and gardens are in the taste of the Pet.i.t Trianon, but inferior to it. As usual, it is the residence of cooks, and scullions, tenants of the government, who treat their visitors with good dinners, and excellent wine, and take good care to make them pay handsomely for their faultless fare.

Returning to my hotel rather late at night, I pa.s.sed through the Champs Elisees, which, at this hour, seemed to be in all its glory. Every "alley green," was filled with whispering lovers. On all sides the sounds of festivity, of music, and dancing, regaled the ear. The weather was very sultry, and being a little fatigued with rather a long walk, I entered through a trellis palisade into a capacious pavilion, where I refreshed myself with lemonade.

Here I found a large bourgeois party enjoying themselves, after the labours of the day, with the waltz, and their favourite beverage, lemonade. A stranger is always surprised at beholding the grace, and activity, which even the lowest orders of people in France, display in dancing. Whiskered corporals, in thick dirty boots, and young tradesmen, in long great coats, led off their respective femmes de chambre and grisettes, with an elegance, which is not to be surpa.s.sed in the jewelled birth night ball room. Nothing could exceed the sprightly carelessness, and gay indifference which reigned throughout. The music in this place, as in every other of a similar description, was excellent.

The french police, notwithstanding the invidious rumours which have been circulated to its prejudice, is the constant subject of admiration with every candid foreigner, who is enabled under the shelter of its protection, to perambulate in safety every part of Paris, and its suburbs, although badly lighted, at that hour of the night, which in England, seldom fails to expose the unwary wanderer to the pistol of the prowling ruffian. An enlightened friend of mine, very shrewdly observed, that the english police seems to direct its powers, and consideration more to the apprehension of the robber, than to the prevention of the robbery. In no country is the _art_ of thief catching carried higher, than in England. In France, the police is in the highest state of respectability, and unites force to vigilance. The depredator who is fortunate enough to escape the former, is seldom able to elude the latter.

The grand National Library of Paris, is highly deserving of a visit, and is considered to be the first of its kind in Europe. In one of the rooms is a museum of antiques. The whole is about to be removed to the old palace. In one of the wings of this n.o.ble collection, are the two celebrated great globes, which rest upon the ground, and rise through the flooring of the first story, where there is a railing round them.

These globes I should suppose to be about eighteen feet high.

From the Grand National Library, I went with a party to the military review of all the regiments in Paris, and its suburbs by the first consul, in the Place de Carousel, within the gates, and railing which he has raised for this purpose. We were introduced into the apartments of general Duroc, the governor of the palace, which were upon the ground floor of the Thuilleries, and which afforded us an uninterrupted view of the whole of this superb military spectacle. A little before twelve o'clock, all the regiments of horse and foot, amounting to about 7000 men, had formed the line, when the consular regiment entered, preceded by their fine band, and the tambour major, who was dressed in great magnificence. This man is remarked in Paris for his symmetry and manly beauty. The cream-coloured charger of Bonaparte, upon which, "labouring for destiny, he has often made dreadful way in the field of battle,"

next pa.s.sed us, led by grooms in splendid liveries of green and gold, to the grand entrance. As the clock struck twelve, the first consul, surrounded by a chosen body of the consular guard, appeared and mounted.

He immediately rode off in full speed, to the gate nearest to the gallery of the Louvre, followed by his favourite generals, superbly attired, mounted upon chargers very richly caparisoned. My eye, aided by a good opera-gla.s.s, was fixed upon the first consul. I beheld before me a man whose renown is sounded through the remotest regions of the earth, and whose exploits have been united by the worshippers of favoured heroism to the conqueror of Darius. His features are small and meagre.

His countenance is melancholy, cold and desperate. His nose is aquiline.

His eyes are dark, fiery, and full of genius. His hair, which he wears cropped and without powder, is black. His figure is small, but very muscular. He wore a blue coat, with broad white facings and golden epaulets (the uniform of his regiment) a small c.o.c.ked hat, in which was a little national c.o.c.kade. In his hand he carried a small riding whip.

His boots were made in the fashion of english riding boots, which I have before condemned on account of their being dest.i.tute of military appearance. The reason why they are preferred by the french officers is on account of the top leather not soiling the knees of the pantaloons when in the act of putting one leg over the other. Bonaparte rode through the lines. His beautiful charger seemed conscious of the glory of his rider, and bore him through the ranks with a commanding and majestic pace. The colours of one of the regiments was stationed close under the window, where I had the good fortune of being placed. Here the hero stopped, and saluted them. At this time I was close to him, and had the pleasure of completely gratifying that curiosity of beholding the persons of distinguished men, which is so natural to all of us.