"Il existait au milieu de la derniere cour un tres beau puits, taille dans le roc et extremement profond: il est actuellement comble, et ma plume se refuse a tracer les scenes horribles qui ensanglanterent ce lieu en 1793 et en 1795, tristes et epouvantables effets des guerres civiles!"

This passage alludes, I imagine, to the circumstance related in page 90. Within its walls are various inscriptions, many of them in characters so difficult to decypher, that they remain unknown. The following has been rendered into more modern French by Cerutti.

J'ai gravi, mesure ces ruines sublimes; Mon coeur s'en est emu! De nos vaillants aieux Tout y representait les tournois magnanimes, Ils semblaient reparoitre et combattre a mes yeux; J'entendois sous leurs coups retentir les abimes; Juge de leurs combats, idole de leur coeur, Du haut des tours, la dame admiroit le vainqueur. Casques et boucliers, cuirasses gigantesques, Cris d'armes, mot d'amour, devises de l'honneur, Carlets pour l'infidele ou pour le suborneur, Tout garde sur ces murs vraiment chevaleresques. La memoire d'un siecle ou l'epee, ou la foi, Ou la galanterie etaient la seule loi.

Louis IX. and Blanche of Castille, his queen, retired to Clisson, at the time the English, under Henry III. penetrated into Poitou, and were received by Olivier de Clisson, who then garrisoned it.

In the war of the League, which convulsed the kingdom of France, Clisson remained faithful to Henry III. and during the early part of the reign of his successor Henry IV. The Protestants were there protected, and established themselves in the fauxbourg. From the period at which Henry IV. signed the edict at Nantes, 15th April, 1598, until the war of La Vendee, this celebrated fortress is no where mentioned by any of the French historians: it became neglected when the feudal system declined, and the republican army completed its ruin. The sad events of this period, and the destruction and carnage which followed, can never be effaced from the page of history. The ruined towns and villages prove the melancholy truth, that the general corruption of a nation prepares the way for general anarchy, and that the blindness of political rage is always more vindictive than even private hatred.

I can never sufficiently lament the absence, at this time, of Madame de La Roche-Jaquelin from the country, as she occasionally resides in the neighbourhood, since the restoration of her property, (although her once noble residence is now in a state of ruin,) occupying a small chateau at some small distance, which had partly escaped the fire and destruction that had been fatal to most houses in the district. Who can read the interesting memoirs of this Lady, and not sympathize in the sufferings of herself, and of those brave and loyal people whose heroic struggle against their republican oppressors lasted with little intermission from the overthrow of the monarchy until its final restoration? Among the number of heroic females who, like Madame de la Roche-Jaquelin, thus distinguished themselves, was Madame de La Rochefoucault who, like her admirer Charette, was put to death at Nantes. This lady, of an ancient and noble family, and of great beauty, signalized herself on various occasions, but being taken prisoner at the battle of the Moulin aux Chevres, she was immediately shot!



The whole history of this terrible war is filled with the noble devotion of heroic females. The chiefs were attended in the most sanguinary battles by ladies, who had themselves ornamented their standards with loyal and chivalrous emblems of the cause for which they were prepared to sacrifice themselves, and who were frequently seen rallying the broken troops, and falling, covered with wounds, by the hands of their enemies!

The annexed view of the Moulin aux Chevres, which is rendered interesting from the account given by Madame de la Roche-Jaquelin of the battle fought near it, will convey a tolerable idea of the scenery of the country.

The prodigious growth of the willow tree in Bretagne, is such as to claim the peculiar notice of travellers: here they attain a gigantic height, no where else to be seen. Batard, in his "Notices sur les Vegetaux" mentions one in the commune of Pommeraie in the arrondissement de Beaupreau, whose age was supposed to be nearly two thousand years. Within the Chateau at Clisson are some very old ones, but the finest I observed were at the Moulin aux Chevres.



CHAP. VI.

LIMITS AND GENERAL APPEARANCE OF LE BOCAGE. MODE OF WARFARE PRACTISED BY THE VENDEANS.

My opportunity of becoming acquainted with that singular district called Le Bocage, will be best understood by very briefly sketching my route through it. I traversed it, and the district called Le Loroux, by the route of Montaigne and Lege, and on my return I passed through Clisson, Vallet, and Loroux, along the banks of the Loire. By pursuing this route, I had every where the interesting opportunity of exploring the scene of that destructive warfare which had ravaged the towns and villages of this part of France.

At one period, the war of La Vendee extended to the north of the Loire, as far as Rennes, forming a triangle, the eastern point of which rested on the town of Angers. To the south of the Loire it spread nearly as far as la Rochelle; and as in this part also it extended nearly to Angers, the tract over which it spread its ravages formed nearly a square. The district called Loroux runs parallel with the Loire: Le Bocage, which occupies both districts, and the whole country south of that river, is comprehended under the general appellation of La Vendee. Under the old divisions of France Le Bocage formed part of the province of Poitou, and Le Loroux part of the provinces of Anjou and Bretagne: but when, at the revolution, France was divided into departments, these two districts were denominated La Vendee, Les deux Sevres, La Loire Inferieure, and Mayenne and Loire.

La Vendee is an extremely interesting district, not merely on account of the singular and heroic warfare that was carried on there so long, but also from the appearance of the country, and the manners, opinions, and general character of its inhabitants; and Le Bocage is, in all these respects, the most interesting part of La Vendee. In Le Bocage, the war was carried on with most wonderful vigour and pertinacity, as well as with almost unparalleled destruction and cruelty. Those who are acquainted only with the other parts of France, can form no idea of the aspect of this district, or of the manners of its inhabitants; they differ so widely and essentially, that they seem to belong to another portion of the globe. It has always been regarded as the most fertile country in France; and, before the revolution, it was undoubtedly one of the most populous.

There are only two roads in the whole country: one of them runs from Nantes to la Rochelle, and the other from Bordeaux to Tours, through Poitou: all the rest of this district is a complete labyrinth: there are indeed numerous pathways, so very winding and narrow, that they are much more calculated to harass and mislead, than to assist a traveller in his journey: these pathways are flanked by wide and deep ditches, and almost rendered completely dark by lofty hedges on each side of them, the trees of which meet at top, and thus form an arch: hence they are rough and uneven in summer, besides being intolerably hot, and deep and miry in winter. To add to these inconveniences, the bed of a rivulet flowing along them frequently constitutes the only passage. Even when the traveller, after toiling along these dreadful pathways, comes near a town or village, he generally finds that the approach to it is practicable only by ascending irregular steps, cut out of the solid rock, on which they are built. The inhabitants themselves even are frequently puzzled by these pathways; and, after wandering for a considerable length of time, at last find out that they have been travelling in a wrong direction.

The whole country bears the appearance of an extensive and thick forest: this arises from the nature of the enclosures; they are extremely small, often not more than fifty or sixty perches, surrounded with strong hedges planted in the banks. These circumstances alone would give the appearance just noticed; but the effect is much increased from other causes. On each side of the banks, on which the trees are planted, there are ditches and drains, and the moisture which they constantly supply to their roots, renders their growth very rapid and luxuriant; so that when we consider the number of the trees and their great size, we shall not be surprised that the country looks like an immense forest. Sometimes the trees are so disposed as to answer the purpose of a palisade; and this purpose they answer most effectually, not only from the great size and strength of the trees themselves, but also from the intervening spaces between them being filled up with strong and impassable underwood [10].

[Footnote 10: A tract of about 150 miles square, at the mouth and on the southern bank of the Loire, comprehends the scene of those deplorable hostilities. The most inland part of the district, and that in which the insurrection first broke out, is called Le Bocage; and seems to have been almost as singular in its physical conformation, as in the state and condition of its population. A series of detached eminences, of no great elevation, rose over the whole face of the country, with little rills trickling in the hollows and occasional cliffs by their sides. The whole space was divided into small enclosures, each surrounded with tall wild hedges, and rows of pollard trees; so that though there were few large woods, the whole region had a sylvan and impenetrable appearance. The ground was mostly in pasturage; and the landscape had, for the most part, an aspect of wild verdure, except that in the autumn some patches of yellow corn appeared here and there athwart their green enclosures. Only two great roads traversed this sequestered region, running nearly parallel, at a distance of more than seventy miles from each other. In the intermediate space, there was nothing but a labyrinth of wild and devious paths, crossing each other at the extremity of almost every field—often serving, at the same time, as channels for the winter torrents, and winding so capriciously among the innumerable hillocks, and beneath the meeting hedge-rows, that the natives themselves were always in danger of losing their way when they went a league or two from their own habitations. The country, though rather thickly peopled, contained, as may be supposed, few large towns; and the inhabitants, devoted almost entirely to rural occupations, enjoyed a great deal of leisure. The noblesse or gentry of the country were very generally resident on their estates, where they lived in a style of simplicity and homeliness which had long disappeared from every other part of the kingdom. No grand parks, fine gardens, or ornamented villas; but spacious clumsy chateaux, surrounded with farm offices and cottages for the labourers. Their manners and way of life, too, partook of the same primitive rusticity. There was great cordiality, and even much familiarity, in the intercourse of the seigneurs with their dependants. They were followed by large trains of them in their hunting expeditions, which occupied so great a part of their time. Every man had his fowling-piece, and was a marksman of fame or pretensions. They were posted in various quarters, to intercept or drive back the game; and were thus trained, by anticipation, to that sort of discipline and concert, in which their whole art of war was afterwards found to consist. Nor was their intimacy confined to their sports. The peasants resorted familiarly to their landlords for advice, both legal and medical; and they repaid the visits in their daily rambles, and entered with interest into all the details of their agricultural operations. They came to the weddings of their children, drank with their guests, and made little presents to the young people. On Sundays and holidays, all the retainers of the family assembled at the chateau, and danced in the barn or the court-yard, according to the season. The ladies of the house joined in the festivity, and that without any airs of condescension or of mockery; for, in their own life, there was little splendour or luxurious refinement. They travelled on horseback, or in heavy carriages drawn by oxen; and had little other amusement than in the care of their dependants, and the familiar intercourse of neighbours among whom there was no rivalry or principle of ostentation.

From all this there resulted, as Madame de L. assures us, a certain innocence and kindliness of character, joined with great hardihood and gaiety,—which reminds us of Henry IV. and his Bearnois,—and carries with it, perhaps on account of that association, an idea of something more chivalrous and romantic—more honest and unsophisticated, than any thing we expect to meet with in this modern world of artifice and derision. There was great purity of morals accordingly, Mad. de L. informs us, and general cheerfulness and content in all this district;—crimes were never heard of, and lawsuits almost unknown. Though not very well educated, the population was exceedingly devout;—though theirs was a kind of superstitious and traditional devotion, it must he owned, rather than an enlightened or rational faith. They had the greatest veneration for crucifixes and images of their saints, and had no idea of any duty more imperious than that of attending on all the solemnities of religion. They were singularly attached also to their cures, who were almost all born and bred in the country, spoke their patois, and shared in all their pastimes and occupations. When a hunting-match was to take place, the clergyman announced it from the pulpit after prayers,—and then took his fowling-piece, and accompanied his congregation to the thicket. It was on behalf of these cures, in fact, that the first disturbances were excited.—Edin. Rev. for Feb. 1816.]

This luxuriance of growth does not proceed entirely from the moisture supplied by the ditches and drains; the soil naturally is uncommonly fertile: and whatever springs from it, whether planted by the hand of man, and nourished, while growing, by his attention and skill, or its spontaneous production, bears witness to this uncommon fertility. The country abounds in corn and vineyards; the produce of the latter consists principally in white vines. At the season of the year when I passed through it, the intermixture of the rich and soft yellow of the wheat nearly ripe, with the light green foliage of the vines, produced a most pleasing effect. In Poitou and Anjou, the harvest generally begins about the latter end of June: this year it was late every where, but very abundant. The vineyards had mostly failed.

Le Marais, which is also comprehended within the limits of Le Bocage, is that part of Lower Poitou, adjacent to the sea. There the country is open and flat, and the passes are impracticable during the winter, and very difficult at other seasons of the year. The inhabitants of Le Marais formed a division of the army of the celebrated chief Charette. La Vendee was divided into two circuits; each army had its own, until the junction of the whole under La Roche-Jaquelin, &c; that of Charette occupied the district of Chalans, Machecoul, la Roche Sur Yon, les Sables, a part of the districts of St. Florent, Vehiers, Chollet, Chatillon, la Chataigneraie, a great part of the districts of Clisson, Montaigne, Thouars, Parthenay, and Fontenay-le-peuple. Although the locality of Le Bocage is a perfect contrast to that of le Marais, nature seems to have exerted all her power in forming these two districts into one extensive fortress, capable of opposing every thing to an attack, and presenting so many means of defence, that it was rarely possible for the enemy to lead a column, or to regulate its movements so as to preserve union in its marches or manoeuvres, dispositions for an attack, or retreat. The positions of the Vendeans could never be understood, or their projects foreseen, in a country where the frequent undulations of land, hedges, trees, and bushes, obstructing the surface, would not admit of seeing fifty paces round; and one of the republican generals, writing to the Convention, thus speaks of Charette's movements. "It is no easy matter to find Charette, particularly to bring him to action. To-day at the head of ten thousand men, the next day wandering with a score of horsemen, it is very rare that one can come up with him. When we believed him to be in our front, he was in our rear. Yesterday he threatened such a post, to-day he is ten leagues from it; more able to avoid than fight us, he almost always disconcerts, and often, without knowing it, all our combinations. He endeavours to surprise us, to carry off our patroles, and to kill our stragglers".

The inhabitants of le Marais and le Bocage for a long period confined themselves to defensive warfare, for which nature seems to have formed their country. The situation of le Marais enabled the brave royalists to receive succours from the English, and to facilitate and protect the debarkation of such as they wished to procure from the North side of the Loire, the coast being flat and easy of access by sea.

The Vendeans, favoured by every natural advantage, had a peculiar tactic which they knew perfectly well how to apply to their position and local circumstances, and adopted a mode of fighting hitherto unknown, and practicable in that country alone. Confident in the superiority which their mode of attack gave them, they never suffered themselves to be anticipated, they never engaged but when and where they pleased. Their dexterity in the use of fire arms was such, that no people, however well skilled in manoeuvring, could make such good use of a gun; the huntsman of Loroux, and the poacher of le Bocage, having been always proverbial as excellent marksmen. It was no unusual thing for the Vendeans when at the plough, to carry with them a musket; and whenever they observed "a blue coat," (as they called the republican soldiers) they stopt their plough, took up their musket, and fired at him; it seldom happened that they missed the object of their vengeance. A melancholy circumstance, connected with this mode of warfare, took place: the son of one of the Vendean farmers, or ploughmen, had been compelled to join the republican army; but having succeeded in escaping, he was hastening, in his republican uniform, to rejoin his relations, when being observed by his father, while at the plough, the latter, unable from the distance to recognize his son, and seeing only the uniform of an enemy, fired and shot him.

Their attacks were always dreadful, sudden, and almost unforeseen, because it was very difficult to reconnoitre or obtain information so as to guard against surprise. Their order of battle was generally in the form of a crescent, their wings being composed of the most expert marksmen, who never fired without taking aim, and seldom ever missed. Their retreat was so precipitate that it was difficult to come up with them, as they dispersed themselves through rough fields, hedges, woods, and bushes, knew all the bye-roads, secret escapes and defiles, and were acquainted with all the obstacles which could obstruct their flight, and the means of avoiding them. Their mode of warfare was according to the locality of the country, well calculated to prolong the struggle and waste the strength of the forces sent to oppose them. In the district of les Sables, intersected by canals, rivulets, and salt marshes, where there were scarcely carriage roads, but chiefly bye-ways, and raised paths, a species of natural fortification was every where formed: this rendered any attack against them dangerous, and consequently it was most favourable for defence, particularly to the inhabitants. The canals are in general from thirty to forty feet wide on the upper extremity of the banks. The Vendean, carrying his musket in a bandoleer, and leaning upon a long pole, leaped from one bank to the other with amazing facility. When the pressure of the enemy would not admit of his doing this, without exposing himself to their fire, he threw himself into a niole, (a kind of small boat,) very flat, and light, and crossed the canal with great rapidity, being always sufficiently shut up to hide himself from his pursuers: but he soon appeared again, and firing at his enemy, again disappeared. The republican soldier to whom this mode of fighting was unknown, was obliged to be continually upon his guard, to march along the shores of the canals, and to follow slowly their circuitous track, supporting at the same time frequent skirmishes, while it took him several hours to traverse a space which the Vendean commonly accomplished in a few minutes.

Among the difficulties which the execution of all military plans met with in La Vendee, the nature and degree of which may be judged of from the local dispositions and the kind of warfare carried on by the royalists, there was one which was invincible, and which singularly retarded the operations of the republicans. Whenever they were desirous of sending an order from head quarters to a division at the distance of twelve or fifteen leagues, the messenger was often obliged to travel fifty or sixty in order to avoid passing through the revolted country. Hence the impossibility of attempting any expedition, however necessary or desirable, which required to be executed without delay. The Vendeans would appear one day at a certain point to the number of several thousand men; measures were concerted for attacking them the next day, but before that arrived they were eight or ten leagues distant from the place where they had showed themselves the day before.

Thus were the republicans exposed to fruitless victories or disastrous checks, which exhausted their men and resources. Masters of the field of battle, they found, says one of their generals, nothing but wooden shoes and some slain, never any arms or ammunition. The Vendean when perceived, would either hide or break his gun, and in surrendering his life, seldom left his weapon. Being well acquainted with the country, and more dexterous than the republicans, they carried scarcely any artillery with them, four or five pieces sufficed for an army of thirty or forty thousand men; these were generally light field pieces. Equally sparing of ammunition, they took but few waggons, one alone served the pieces, as they well knew it was not artillery that would procure them the victory; thence, when the republicans met with any disastrous affair, they lost from twenty to thirty pieces of cannon, and waggons in proportion; whereas when they gained a victory they acquired only two or three pieces of cannon, with scarcely any ammunition.

From this slight sketch of the nature of the country, so disadvantageous to the invaders, and of the mode in which the Vendeans carried on this unfortunate war, our surprise will cease at the determined and protracted resistance made to the republicans by this loyal and brave people. For many years they defended their beloved country, and endured privations, and accumulated miseries, such as human nature has seldom been exposed to. To use the words of a republican general, "A girdle of fire enveloped the revolted country; fire, terror, and death, preceded the march".

But the principal cause of the long resistance of the Vendeans must be sought for in their moral character; they were most honourably distinguished by an inviolable attachment to their party, and unlimited and unshaken confidence in their chiefs; and an earnest, warm, but steady zeal, which supplied the place of discipline. Their invincible courage, both active and passive, was proof against every kind of danger, fatigue, and want. It has been well observed that "irregular and undisciplined wars are naturally far more prolific of extraordinary incidents, unexpected turns of fortune, and striking displays of individual talent, of vice and virtue, than the more solemn movements of national hostility, where every thing is in a great measure provided and foreseen; and where the inflexible subordination of rank, and the severe exactions of a limited duty not only take away the inducement, but the opportunity for those exaltations of personal feeling and adventure which produce the most lively interest, and lead to the most animating results. In the unconcerted proceedings of an insurgent population, all is experiment and all is passion. The heroic daring of a simple peasant lifts him at once to the rank of a leader, and kindles a general enthusiasm to which all things become possible".

From the operation of these causes the Vendeans were enabled to send forth formidable armies: and such was the confidence of the chiefs in the troops, that they never would have been subdued if they had not lost their leaders in the various hard fought actions, or been deprived of their services by their mutual jealousy. Another circumstance proved equally fatal to them; after the fall of the gallant Lescure, they most imprudently quitted the strong country for the open plains on the left bank of the Loire.



CHAP. VII.

RIVER LOIRE, FROM NANTES TO ANGERS.

The Loire is one of the finest rivers in France; and perhaps there is no river in the world, that equals that part of it, which flows from Angers to Nantes: the breadth of the stream; the islands of wood; the boldness, culture, and richness of its banks, all conspire to render it worthy of this character. As a useful river it is equally celebrated: its banks being bordered by rich and populous cities; and the benefits it renders to industry and commerce being incalculable.

Its stream is so rapid and strong, that in ascending it is generally necessary from Nantes to Angers, to track the barge: this mode of proceeding, though slow, has its advantages; as it gives greater time and opportunity for observing all the various beauties of scenery which present themselves at every turn of the river.

I embarked early in the morning with a favourable breeze from the west: we soon began to be interested, and almost enchanted, with the rich and beautiful scenery, which almost every moment opened to our view in endless variety. This scenery not only pleased the eye and imagination by its beauty, but also excited high and deep interest by the fertility which it displayed. The banks were lined with corn fields, vineyards, or orchards. Occasionally the nature and interest of the prospect were agreeably diversified by the spire of a convent or the turrets of a chateau, rising above gardens or groves, or rich woodlands. At other places there were still more decided marks of population, for villages, country-houses, and farms, caught the eye, and added to the charms by which it was so willingly and powerfully detained.

The whole country on each side is well cultivated. But even this part of France, interesting and beautiful as it is, cannot be traversed without the recollection of the horrors of the revolution breaking in upon, and greatly damping the interest and pleasure derived from the view of the scenery. As we approached the ruined tower of Oudon, it was impossible not to feel a melancholy regret at the scenes of unparalleled bloodshed that took place on the rich and delightful banks of this river during the phrenzy of the revolution. These dreadful recollections assailed us most powerfully as we came in view of Ancenis on the left, and of Saint Florent le Viel to the right. At the latter place we stopped for the night. It was a fine serene evening, the wind had left us, and we were forced to track the shore for some distance before we reached it: just as the sun was setting I made a sketch of its ruined convent on the hill.



After the defeat of the Vendean army, and their retreat across the Loire at this place, says a French writer, "There were seen upon the right bank, following the army, which increased prodigiously, a multitude of bishops, priests, monks, religious persons, old countesses, baronesses, &c. &c. who were carried off by cart-loads, and which did nothing but embarrass the army.[11] There were a great many of them killed at the battle of Mans".

[Footnote 11: On gaining the heights of St. Florent, one of the most mournful, and at the same time most magnificent spectacles, burst upon the eye. These heights form a vast semicircle; at the bottom of which a broad bare plain extends to the edge of the water. Near an hundred thousand unhappy souls now blackened over that dreary expanse,—old men, infants and women, mingled, with the half-armed soldiery, caravans, crowded baggage waggons and teams of oxen, all full of despair, impatience, anxiety and terror:—Behind, were the smoke of their burning villages, and the thunder of the hostile artillery;—before, the broad stream of the Loire, divided by a long low island, also covered with the fugitives,—twenty frail barks plying in the stream—and, on the far banks, the disorderly movements of those who had effected the passage, and were waiting there to be rejoined by their companions. Such, Mad. de L. assures us, was the tumult and terror of the scene, and so awful the recollections it inspired, that it can never be effaced from the memory of any of those who beheld it; and that many of its awe-struck spectators have concurred in stating, that it brought forcibly to their imaginations the unspeakable terrors of the great day of judgment.—Edinb. Rev. No. LI. p. 24.]

It is said that when the Prince Talmont, with the royalists, crossed over from Saint Florent, under the fire of the republican troops who had taken possession of the heights, they consisted of thirty thousand individuals, but that there were not twenty thousand warriors; among them were five thousand women: arrived in the open country, without warlike stores, they soon wanted provisions. This multitude created a famine wherever it went, and suffered a famine itself. The first unsuccessful enterprize produced discouragement, and necessarily the desertion of the army: it diminished two-thirds when it was repulsed at Angers; and when the chiefs, despairing (after the battle of Mans) of not being able to recross the Loire at Ancenis, led back the wrecks of the army to Savenay, it consisted only of fifteen thousand men, half dead with hunger and misery: the major part of these were exterminated by the republicans; the rest dispersed themselves, and from that time all efforts ceased. Prince de Talmont was arrested near Erne, tried at Rennes, and executed at Laval: of the fate of Lescure and the other chiefs, a melancholy catalogue is furnished by Madame de la Roche-Jaquelin.

The wind favoring us the day following, we sailed at break of day, and arrived at Angers at the close of a beautiful evening. The approach to this town, in sailing up the river Mayenne, is highly picturesque; its ancient castle is situated on a high rock overhanging the river; its walls and antique towers, built by the English, have an imposing effect. The town stands in a plain, which, in the distance, being fringed with wood, together with the corn and meadow ground, give it that richness and beauty that characterizes the whole country between Nantes and Angers. The river Mayenne, and a small branch of the Loire, divide the town. It is the chief seat of the province of Maine-et-Loire, formerly the capital of Anjou. It is a large ancient city, with a fine cathedral, a botanical garden, museum, and several manufactories of cottons; one of them in imitation of India handkerchiefs. Here the last effort was made by the Vendeans, whose flight from it was immediately followed by the bloody and disastrous affair of Mans.

I had now passed the provinces of Bretagne and Poitou, as they border the Loire; and, in point of beautiful and romantic scenery, this district can scarcely be surpassed. The left bank of the river, running along the country of Le Bocage, from Nantes to Angers, a distance of seventy-two miles, is a continued range of lofty hills, agreeably diversified with corn lands, and studded with vineyards. The opposite bank is a more flat and variegated country, with pleasant eminences and broad plains, watered by branches of the Loire, which in many parts contains small islands covered with trees. The whole course of this fine river, as the eye sweeps and ranges over its banks, presents at almost every bend the view of villas enriched with gardens, orchards, and vineyards; castles, convents, and villages in ruins! bearing innumerable evidences of the desolating war that has destroyed them.

The religious communities, whose love of scenery and retirement in general led them to prefer the most sequestered valleys, have in these provinces chosen the most elevated and picturesque spots for the erection of their monasteries; and these, notwithstanding their deserted and decaying state, prove the good taste of their ancient possessors, and the skill and industry with which they embellished them. No situations could have been selected more abounding in picturesque combinations of magnificent landscapes.

The pleasure of the traveller in surveying such scenes, cannot but be frequently interrupted, by the recollection of the various atrocities which the inhabitants of these fine provinces committed against each other, and of the immense number of innocent victims that were driven from their abode to perish by famine or the sword.



CHAP. VIII.

SAUMUR TO TOURS—TOURS—TOURS TO BLOIS—ORLEANS—AND ORLEANS TO PARIS.

I hired a small carriage, called a patache, to convey me to Saumur and Tours; it is driven by a postillion with two horses, and is open in front, giving the traveller a better opportunity of viewing the country than in a close vehicle.

The town of Saumur is built on both banks of the Loire, with a handsome stone bridge over it; an ancient castle, built on a high rock, commands the whole town. The road from Angers to this place is a high raised causeway, paved, and runs parallel to the river, within a few paces of its banks, the whole distance. Here we entered into Touraine from the province of Anjou. From Saumur to Tours, the road is like the former. The river Loire is on the right hand, and a flat level country on the left, covered with orchards, groves, and meadows. The road is every where raised so high, that it forms a very steep declivity, with narrow pathways down to the entrance of the cottages and villages, which are most romantically situated,—some in orchards, some amidst vineyards, some in gardens, and others in recesses peeping from between the trees. The fences are fantastically interwoven with wreaths of the vines, which frequently creep up the trunk of a pear or a cherry-tree, and cover the slated roofs of the houses, thereby, from the natural luxuriance and wildness of their spreading branches in the fruit season, answering at once the purposes of utility and ornament; for the slates, retaining the heat, ripen the grape sooner than any other mode of training. The corn was now ripe, and added to the interest and beauty of the scenes; in many of the fields the reapers were at work, and the harvest (which happily for France had not been so abundant for many years) was going on with the assistance of the female peasantry, who on all occasions partake and cheer the labours of the field.

Approaching nearer to Tours, I had a fine view of the bridge, which is esteemed the handsomest in France. Between the branches of the trees, I now and then caught a glimpse of the spires of the church and buildings, encompassed by extensive orchards and groves, and open vales between, varied by vineyards. It was a jour de fete, and as I drove through the town the streets were gay with holyday people, and crowded in some places with groups of women and girls, whose cheerful countenances proved the admiration with which they viewed the performances of some mountebanks.[12] Tours is the chief seat of the prefecture of the Indre-et-Loire, formerly the capital of the province of Touraine, and is built on a plain on the bank of the Loire. The houses are of a white stone, and in the principal streets well built and lofty: it is altogether one of the handsomest towns in France. The main street, the rue Royale, can boast of a foot pavement, which is seldom to be met with in this country. The environs of the town are also very beautiful; the luxuriance of the soil, abounding in vines, fruits, and every article of life, has attracted such numbers of English to its vicinity, that Tours may be almost considered an English colony.

[Footnote 12: There is no city in Europe where there are more of these sort of people to be seen than at Paris, on the boulevards and different carrefours. The fondness of the Parisians for shows has existed for ages. In a tariff of Saint Lewis for regulating the duties upon the different articles brought into Paris by the gate of the little Chatelet, it is ordained, (Hist. LVIII. cxxxiii.) that whosoever fetches a monkey into the city for sale, shall pay four deniers; but if the monkey belongs to a merry-andrew, the merry-andrew shall be exempted from paying the duty, as well upon the said monkey as on every thing else he carries along with him, by causing his monkey to play and dance before the collector! Hence is derived the proverb "Payer en monnoie de singe," i.e. to laugh at a man instead of paying him. By another article, it is specified, that jugglers shall likewise be exempt from all imposts, provided they sing a couplet of a song before the toll-gatherer.]

Its ancient cathedral is in good preservation, notwithstanding it became a prey to the licentious fanaticism of the republicans.

The hotel Saint Julien, where I resided during my stay, stands upon the cloisters of an ancient abbey; and the church, with its fine Gothic pillars, and chapels, remains a monument of those destructive and desolating times! The side aisles are stalls for horses and cattle, and the centre is a remise for carriages and the public diligences which run to this inn! The best hotel is the hotel du Faisan. The vast number of English who keep pouring into all the western provinces of this country, by degrees has affected the markets, and will continue to do so, as long as the rage for emigration lasts. At Tours, every article is one third dearer than at Nantes, and in proportion as the capital is approached every thing becomes more expensive; yet notwithstanding this, living is, and must ever be, infinitely cheaper than in England.

It certainly is no exaggeration to say, that France is richer in the production of fruits and vegetables than any country in Europe, for in no other can be found so many productions of the same climates of the earth, or a soil more naturally abundant. With the exception of some of the northern provinces, every part of France has wine, and the culture of that delicious fruit which produces it is mentioned in its earliest records. By a happy distribution, those provinces which do not bear the vine, are abundantly supplied with other productions. Normandy and Bretagne abound in the finest fruits; Picardy, and the adjoining provinces, in corn. The riches of Lorraine are in its woods; Touraine has ever been famous for its plums and its pears. The banks of the Loire, and the valleys of Dauphine, are celebrated for the richness of their verdure and vegetation; and the more southern provinces of Languedoc and Provence, partake of the climate and productions of Italy and Spain.

Between Tours and Amboise, I passed the once celebrated Chateau of Chanteloup, formerly the property of the Duc de Choiseuil, now the residence of the Comte de Chaptal, who became the purchaser when it was sold as national property.

At the distance of six miles from Blois, the road leads near enough to Valencay to have a good view of its magnificent palace and grounds; this place, now belonging to M. de Talleyrand, Prince et Duc de Benevento, (one of the most extraordinary characters who have figured so conspicuously during the present age,) is the more interesting, from having been so long the place of confinement of Ferdinand the present King of Spain; and from whence our government tried to extricate him through the agency of Baron de Kolly, who lost his life in the attempt. This singular transaction has appeared in all the public papers, but having had an opportunity of collecting the particulars through a channel of undoubted authority, I consider it an anecdote of too interesting a nature, as connected with the subject before me, not to insert it here.

In 1810, our government laid a plan to liberate King Ferdinand VII. of Spain, similar to the one which had already effected the escape of the Marquis de la Romana. The person entrusted with this commission, assumed the name of Baron de Kolly, and besides the necessary credit and credentials, he was furnished with the original letter, written by Charles IV. to George III. in 1802, notifying the marriage of his son, the Prince of the Asturias, and containing a marginal note from the Marquis W.... in corroboration of his mission. A small squadron was also sent to cruize off that part of the coast most contiguous to Valencay, under the orders of Commodore C.... to be in readiness to receive the royal fugitive. On a sudden the Baron de Kolly was seized, and the plan frustrated, but the real particulars were never known until after the events of the campaign of 1815.

In the course of the passage to St. Helena, Admiral C.... (who had been entrusted with the project) expressed a wish to know of Buonaparte, by what means de Kolly had been discovered and arrested, and the true circumstances of the affair so totally unknown in England, adding, that if no motive of state policy intervened, he was anxious to hear the whole disclosure. Buonaparte readily consented, and told him that de Kolly arrived at Paris and lived in the greatest obscurity, dressed shabbily, and eating his meals only at cheap traiteurs in the Fauxbourg St. Antoine. However, he was not satisfied with the common wine served up, and would ask for the best Bordeaux, for which he paid five francs per bottle. This contrast of poverty and luxury excited suspicions in the waiters of the two houses he thus frequented, who being in the pay of the police, immediately sent in a report. De Kolly was watched, and soon afterwards seized with all his papers. Buonaparte said he then procured a person, as nearly resembling de Kolly as could be found, to carry on the English stratagem, under a hope that Ferdinand would have fallen into the trap; and with all the original credentials, this agent of the French police went into the castle of Valencay, under a pretext of selling some trinkets. Ferdinand however, said Buonaparte, was too great a coward to enter into the views proposed to him, but instantly gave information of what had been communicated, to his first chamberlain, Amazada, in a letter written to the governor of the castle!—By this means Ferdinand escaped being placed at the mercy of Buonaparte, whose intention was to intercept him in his flight.

Although the conduct of Ferdinand was in this instance pusillanimous and cruel, it was next to an impossibility that he could have effected his escape. He was surrounded by guards and spies of every description, under the superintendence of M. Darberg, Auditor of the Council of State, and without whose leave no admittance could be obtained. Twenty-five horse gendarmes regularly mounted guard about the castle, and every person found in its vicinity without a regular passport, was confined and strictly examined.

At a small distance, is the residence of Marshal Victor, Duc de Belluno, whom I met walking in the grounds. I was very civilly permitted to enter, on sending a message desiring permission, as a traveller, to see it. It stands at the entrance of the village of Menard, and was once the favourite residence of Madame de Pompadour, the mistress of Louis XV. The river Loire winds beautifully beneath the terrace. The grounds are of a vast extent, and tastefully laid out. Over the entrance, the workmen were then placing the arms of the Marshal, finely executed in stone.

The country is thickly enclosed on each side of the river, varied with hill and dale, clothed with vineyards. The villages and small towns along the banks, as far as Orleans, are numerous and invariably picturesque. Nothing can be more beautiful than the natural festoons which are formed by the long shoots of the vines as they project over the road. The peasants and the vignerons live in the midst of their vineyards; their dwellings are excavations in chalky strata of the solid rock, which afford them warm and dry habitations; some of them were so covered with the vines that the entrance was scarcely visible, and the comparison of them to so many birds nests is not badly imagined. The hedges were covered with wild thyme and rosemary; and the clematis interwoven with honeysuckles and other fragrant flowers, richly perfumed the air. The grapes in Touraine and Orleanois are not abundant this year, but the wine that is expected to be made, will, it is supposed, from the dryness of the summer, be of an excellent quality.

The town of Orleans is memorable for the siege it sustained against the English in 1428, when the maid of Orleans acquired so much renown, and whose barbarous execution at Rouen, cannot be remembered without feelings of horror and indignation, and must ever remain a stain on the memory of that brave soldier the Duke of Bedford. The transactions subsequent to that event, led to the almost entire expulsion of the English from France; and those glittering conquests which were an object of more glory than interest, and had been purchased at such an expense of blood and treasure, were from that time lost to the English nation.

During the Revolution, the ancient statue of this celebrated female was taken down and unfortunately destroyed, and one more modern, but less interesting, finely executed in bronze, has been since erected. She is habited in armour, with a lance and shield, supposed to be leading on the victorious troops. At the four angles, are the emblematical figures in relief, of the principal events of her singular career. On a marble pedestal, is inscribed:

A JEANNE D'ARC.

Orleans is the chief seat of the department of the Loiret, formerly the capital of Orleanais, on the river Loire, over which it has a handsome bridge like the one at Tours, though not of such extent, as the river here is not so wide, and very shallow. The communication by water with Paris is carried on by means of a canal.

The church is one of the finest specimens of Gothic architecture I have seen in France. The towers are of open fretwork, and in excellent preservation. More cheerful scenes of exuberant fertility are nowhere to be met with than along the banks of the river, and in the country surrounding the town.

From Orleans to Etampes, there is a plain of eighteen leagues in extent, the whole of which was covered with one entire tract of corn and vines; not an intervening hill or hillock; and the scene was doubly interesting from the harvest carrying on in every direction as I traversed it.

Leaving Etampes, I passed through the beautiful villages of Sceaux, Bourg-la-Reine, and Fontenay-aux-Roses; the latter still contains the ruins of the Palace of Colbert, the celebrated minister of Louis XIV.

The village of Fontenay-aux-Roses, is situated in a valley six miles from Paris, and takes its name from the culture of roses, which cover large tracts of ground. The proprietors sell the flowers to the distillers for making rose water and essences, and the flower market is supplied with the choicest bouquets; it is likewise celebrated for its produce of the finest strawberries and peaches.

The beauty of its situation, and the association of its name with the sweetest of flowers, has attracted many of the wealthy inhabitants of the metropolis to reside in its vicinity, where they have summer houses; among them is the Maire de Fontenay, Monsieur Ledru, whose history is singular and interesting.

His father, who was very wealthy, and a great miser, sent for him one morning, at the time he had just attained his eighteenth year, and said to him: "I began life at your age with half a crown; there is one for you—go, and be as fortunate as I have been;"—saying which, he turned him out of the house, and shut the door in his face.

Undismayed at such unexpected and unnatural conduct on the part of his parent, whom he had never offended, the youth sought the advice and assistance of a friend, by whose opinion he applied himself to the study of medicine. After an indefatigable study at the Hotel Dieu, he became celebrated in his profession, and had the good fortune to be employed by a lady of great wealth, whose life he saved. Out of gratitude, she proposed to become his wife, and to settle upon him an income of fifty thousand livres, that he might give up his medical pursuits; which, having accepted, he rewarded her by an attention and kindness suitable to the noble generosity of her conduct.

The revolution soon after occurred, and in the general wreck of property she lost all her fortune, it having been invested, either in the funds, or public securities. It then became the turn of Mons. Ledru to support his wife, by renewing the practice of his profession, which soon placed them again in affluent circumstances.

At the death of his father, who left an immense fortune to be divided between Mons. Ledru and his two maiden sisters, he took possession of the estate at Fontenay-aux-Roses, from whence he had been cruelly banished when a boy, and which the unkindness of his parent had never after permitted him to enter. Fortune, which had hitherto played a wayward and capricious game with him, had not yet ceased her freaks. In removing a mirror from over a chimney-piece which required an alteration, he discovered a prodigious treasure that had been concealed there by his father! With that generosity and nobleness of character, which make him esteemed and beloved by all his acquaintance, and adored by the whole commune over which he presides, he instantly sent for his sisters and divided it with them. His wife did not long survive this last event, and since her death he has continued to reside at Fontenay-aux-Roses with his sisters, where he exercises his authority with mildness; and by constant acts of beneficence and charity, is justly styled, "Le Pere de Fontenay!"

Between Fontenay-aux-Roses and Paris, to the right of the road, is the village of Gentilly, whose numerous guinguettes are much frequented by the Parisians in fine weather. It being a holyday we met crowds of well dressed citizens, in all sorts of vehicles, driving towards it. An interesting circumstance had been related to me of the cure of this village, M. Detruissart; and on asking permission to visit his rural habitation, I found the story to be true. His garden, which is not above half an acre, has been laid out with such art and ingenuity, as to give an idea of considerable extent, and to add to the charms of this little spot, which he calls his "bonheur," there are a variety of inscriptions of his own composition; over an arbour of vines is the following:—

MA SOLITUDE.

Loin des mechans, du bruit, des tempetes du monde, Sous un simple berceau dont la treille est feconde, Sous un modeste toit, dans de rians jardins, Dessines, eleves, cultives par mes mains.... C'est dans ces lieux cheris que s'ecoule ma vie Dans une paix profonde, une tranquillite Qui sans cesse rappele a mon ame ravie Le temps de l'age d'or et ma felicite: Mais, quelque doux qu'il soit, mon sort est peu de chose; Car enfin, apres tout, je dois mourir bientot! Ne ressemblons-nous pas a la feuille de rose Qui paroit un instant et qui seche aussitot!

It was in the practice of the moral conveyed by these lines, and in the pursuit of literature, and constant acts of charity, that Mons. Detruissart passed his life, which was rewarded by the esteem and affection of all his parishioners, of which they gave a remarkable proof on the 4th of July, 1815, when the Prussian troops took post at Gentilly, from whence they had driven the French the preceding evening into Paris.

The poor cure, with many other of the inhabitants, sought refuge in the capital, leaving his house at the mercy of the enemy, who commenced plundering in all directions; the humble and modest appearance of M. Detruissart's cottage not attracting their notice, it remained untouched, when a single word from any of the inhabitants would have devoted it to ruin; but such was their esteem for him, that at his return he found every thing as he had left it.

I entered Paris, leaving Bicetre to my right, by the barriere d'Enfer, after one of the most agreeable and interesting journeys I ever performed.



CHAP. IX.

ENVIRONS OF PARIS—PERE LA CHAISE—CASTLE OF VINCENNES—AND CHATEAU OF ST. GERMAIN—ITS FOREST AND VICINITY.

Prior to the revolution, the French, like most other European nations, were in the practice of depositing their dead in churches and cemeteries within the most populous towns, in compliance with those precepts of evangelical doctrine which recommend us unceasingly to reflect on death; and hence originated a custom which cannot but be attended with most pernicious consequences to health, when we reflect that the decomposition of human bodies is productive of putrid exhalations, and consequently pregnant with the causes of contagious disorders. It is indeed surprising that some regulations have not hitherto been adopted in England regarding the interment of the dead, from the example of other countries.

In the year 1793, a decree was passed by the National Assembly, to prevent burying in churches, or in church-yards, within the city of Paris. Since which period, there have been three places selected in its immediate neighbourhood for that purpose—Montmartre, called "Le Champ du Repos"—Vaugirard, and Pere La Chaise.

Quitting the Boulevards, at the extremity of the Boulevards Neufs, eastward of the city, and passing through the Barriere d'Aulnay, I arrived at the Pere La Chaise. At the entrance, through large folding gates, is a spacious court-yard, having at one angle the dwelling of the Concierge, or Keeper. The enclosure contains one hundred and twenty acres, on a gently rising ground, in the centre of which stands the ancient mansion constructed by Louis XIV. for his confessor, Pere la Chaise, the celebrated Jesuit, who, with Madame de Maintenon, governed France. Rising above the thousands of tombs which surround it, it displays itself a wrecked and mouldering monument of ancient splendour, and the mutability of human affairs! This spot became afterwards a place of public promenade and great resort, from the beauty of its position overlooking all Paris; and though so often the scene of festivity and pleasure, now presents to the eye of the beholder a mournfully interesting sight of tombs and sarcophagi, intermixed with various fruit trees, cypress groves, the choicest flowers, and rarest shrubs.

From the rising ground, above the building of Pere La Chaise, a most delightful view displays itself. The city of Paris appears to stand in the centre of a vast amphitheatre. The heights of Belleville, Montmartre, and Menilmontant, in the west. To the east, the beautiful plain of Saint-Mande, Montreuil, and Vincennes, with the lofty towers of its fortress.—The fertile banks of the river Marne, are on the North, and in the South, the horizon encircles Bicetre and Meudon.

The various tombs are placed without order or regularity: they are mostly enclosed with trellis work of wood, sometimes by iron railing; and consist of a small marble column, a pyramid, a sarcophagus, or a single slab, just as may have suited the fancy or the taste of the friends of the departed.—Some surrounded with cypress, some with roses, myrtles, and the choicest exotics; others with evergreens, and not unfrequently a single weeping willow, with the addition of a rose tree!

This intermixture of the sweetest scented flowers and fruit trees, in a burying ground, among the finest pieces of sculptured marble, with evergreens growing over them, in the form of arbours, and furnished with seats, cannot fail to produce in the mind of the person who views it for the first time, peculiar and uncommon feelings of domestic melancholy, mingled with pleasing tenderness.

Who could be otherwise than powerfully affected, as I was, by the first objects that presented themselves to me on entering the place?—A mother and her two sons, kneeling in pious devotion at the foot of the husband's and the father's grave! At a short distance, a female of elegant form, watering and dressing the earth around some plants at her lover's tomb!—not a day, and seldom an hour, passes, but some one is seen either weeping over the remains of a departed relative, or watching with pious solicitude the flowers that spring up around it.

Among the many interesting objects that presented themselves at my first visit, was the tomb of Abelard and Heloise, which had not long since been removed from the convent of the Augustins, where I had seen it in 1815.

At a little distance, to the left of the former, was the burial place of Labedoyere. The fate of this brave and unfortunate officer is well known; his youth, and misled zeal, have procured him a sympathy which his fellow sufferer Marshal Ney did not find, and did not merit.

In the centre of a square plot of ground enclosed with lattice work, is erected a wooden cross, painted black. Neither marble, nor stone, nor letters, indicate his name. Two pots of roses, and a tuft of violets, alone marked the spot, which is carefully weeded. There is something more affecting in all this simplicity, something, in my mind, that goes more directly home to the heart, than in the most splendid monument or the most studied eulogium. As we came suddenly up we saw two females clad in deep mourning, weeping over it; at each arm of the cross was suspended a garland of flowers; we were about to retire again immediately, from the fear of disturbing their melancholy devotions, when the concierge, with a brutality indescribable, rushed forward, and removing the garlands, threw them among the shrubs at a considerable distance. The friend who accompanied me, after searching, recovered one of the garlands, and with more gallantry perhaps than policy, immediately replaced it, and reproaching the keeper with his unmanly conduct, vowed vengeance if he dared to interrupt the ladies, again, when bowing to them we retired.

As we were about to quit the place some time after, we were arrested by two gendarmes, and it was not till after a detention of some hours, and a long discussion between the police officers who had been summoned to attend, and being threatened to be sent to the Conciergerie prison, that we were allowed to depart.

The following words were engraved on a plain marble slab that covered the remains of Marshal Ney.

CI GIT LE MARECHAL NEY DUC D'ECHLINGEN PRINCE DE MOSCOWA DECEDE le 7, Decembre, 1815.

The grave of the Marshal, as well as that of Labedoyere, when I again visited the spot, had been stripped of every thing, and the railing around them removed so as to prevent any one from discovering the place of their interment.

The monument of Madame Cottin, the author of Elizabeth and of Mathilde, is, like her writings, simple and affecting!-Surrounded by a trellis work in the form of an arbour, planted with rose trees, stands a pillar of the whitest marble, highly polished, inclining forwards, and engraved with:

ICI REPOSE Marie-Sophie Risteav Veuve de J.M. Cottin Decedee le 25 Aout. 1815.

Near this is the tomb of the esteemed and celebrated poet Delille, the "Songster of the Gardens," as the French term him. The monument is enclosed in a small garden, planted with the choicest flowers and shrubs: it is of white marble, of large dimensions, and approached by an allee verte. The door leading to the vault is of brass, with emblematical figures in relief: above the entrance is inscribed in letters of gold.

JACQVES-DELILLE.

The linden tree, intermixed with various evergreens, form an interesting and beautiful bouquet around it.

Beyond this, to the right, are the tombs of Gretry the composer, Fourcroy the great chemist, Fontenelle, Boileau, Racine, and of Mademoiselle Raucourt, the celebrated actress, to whom the bigotry of the clergy refused burial in consecrated ground in 1815! a circumstance which gave rise to much clamour and dissatisfaction. It is surprising, that after such events as have been experienced in France, the folly of denying the right of consecrated ground to a comedian should have been persevered in, after the restoration of Louis XVIII!

Close to the tomb of Mad'lle Raucourt, is one, which for its affecting simplicity and modesty, struck me very forcibly: in a little garden of roses and lilies, and amidst some tufts of mignonette which appeared to have been newly watered, stood a plain marble column, with the words as represented in the annexed sketch—an accacia shaded it from the sun's rays. In 1814, when the Allies approached Paris, this height, like the others commanding the capital, was fortified, and occupied by the students of the Polytechnical School, who defended it with great gallantry. The walls were perforated with holes for the musketry: the marks are still visible where they have been since filled up. On the 30th of March, 1814, this position was vigorously attacked, with great slaughter on both sides: the assailants and the assailed fell in heaps, and it was not until the chief part of a Prussian corps, (that afterwards carried it by assault) had been annihilated, that the brave youths gave way.



The tomb of my early friend and brother officer, the brave and unfortunate Captain Wright, who was murdered in the Temple, is in the cemetery of Vaugirard. I had searched for it in vain at Pere la Chaise, where it was reported he had been buried. It has on it the following inscription, written to his memory by his companion in arms, and in imprisonment, the gallant Sir Sidney Smith:

HERE LIES INHUMED JOHN WESLEY WRIGHT, BY BIRTH AN ENGLISHMAN, CAPTAIN IN THE BRITISH NAVY

Distinguished both among his own Countrymen and Foreigners For skill and courage;

To whom, Of those things which lead to the summit of glory, Nothing was wanting but opportunity:

His ancestors, whose virtues he inherited, He honoured by his deeds.

Quick in apprehending his orders, Active and bold in the execution of them;

In success modest, In adverse circumstances firm, In doubtful enterprises, wise and prudent.

Awhile successful in his career; At length assailed by adverse winds, and on an hostile shore, He was captured;

And being soon after brought to Paris, Was confined in the prison called the Temple, Infamous for midnight murders, And placed in the most rigid custody:

But in bonds, And suffering severities still more oppressive, His fortitude of mind and fidelity to his country Remained unshaken.

A short time after, He was found in the morning with his throat cut. And dead in his bed:

He died the 28th October, 1805, aged 36. To be lamented by his Country, Avenged by his God!

THE DONJON, OR CASTLE OF VINCENNES.

This ancient fortress is situate at the entrance of the forest of Vincennes, (now reduced to a wood of small trees, the large timber having been cut down during the revolution) and surrounded by a deep ditch of great width, about two miles from the Barriere du Trone. During many ages, it had been the casual residence of the sovereigns of France. Philip de Valois added considerably to its dimensions in 1337. John continued the works, and during his captivity in England, Charles his son, then regent of the kingdom, finished it.

During the reign of Charles VII. in 1422, Henry VI. of England died in this castle. From this time Vincennes became a royal residence, until the reign of Louis XIV. when that monarch fixed himself at Versailles, from which period it has never been used but as a prison[13].

[Footnote 13: Monstrelet relates a curious anecdote, during the residence at the Castle of Vincennes of Isabeau de Baviere, strongly illustrative of the barbarous manners of those times. "Lewis de Bourbon, who was handsome and well made, and had signalized himself upon various occasions, and amongst others at the battle of Agincourt, going one night, as was customary, to visit the Queen, Isabeau de Baviere, at the Castle of Vincennes, met the King (Charles VI.); he saluted him, without either stopping or alighting from his horse, but continued galloping on. The King having recollected him, ordered Tangui du Chatel, prevost of Paris, to pursue, and to confine him in prison. At night the question was applied, and he was afterwards tied up in a sack and cast into the Seine, with this inscription upon the sack, 'Let the King's justice take place.'"]

Dulaure, a French writer, in speaking of the persons who were confined here, observes, it would be difficult to enumerate the number of individuals that have been shut up in this prison within these few years. "We will merely notice," he says, "the celebrated Count Mirabeau, who was confined from 1777 to 1780; here it was that he translated his Tibulle, and Joannes Secundus, and wrote his 'Lettres originales' to his mistress, Madame Lemonnier, which abound with passages as affecting as the letters of Heloise".

This prison was thrown open during the reign of the unfortunate Louis XVI. by the Baron de Breteuil, Minister of the Department of Paris in 1784. In going over it, every one was penetrated with horror; and feelings of the most melancholy interest were excited by reading the various inscriptions on the walls, indicative of the hopeless misery that had been experienced within them! Many were expressive of piety and resignation at the approach of death!—others complaining of the cruel oppression which had immured them! On one wall was written, "Il faut mourir, mon frere; mon frere il faut mourir, quand il plaira a Dieu". On the door of another prison were, "Beati qui persecutionem patiuntur propter justitiam, quoniam ipsorum est regnum caelorum". On the same spot were, "Carcer Socratis, templum honoris".

This Donjon remained unoccupied until 1791. At this period, the prisons of the capital being filled with criminals, Government ordered it to be prepared for the reception of that class of prisoners; but on the massacres that followed, the mob either murdered or released them all, after a bloody contest, and it remained again without prisoners until the Imperial Government under Buonaparte. It was then garrisoned by a detachment of the Imperial Guard, and multitudes of victims were transferred there whose fate remains, and probably ever will remain, unknown.

It was to this place that the Duke D'Enghien, who was arrested the 15th March, 1804, at Ettenheim, in the Electorate of Baden, was conducted the 20th of the same month, at five in the evening, and condemned to death the night following, by a military commission, at which Murat presided. He was accordingly shot on the 21st, at half past four in the evening, in the ditch of the castle which looks towards the forest, on the north side, and his body thrown into a grave, ready dug to receive it, where he fell. The details of this cruel and wanton act of barbarity are too well known to need any repetition here.

This spot is now marked by a wooden cross, enclosed by an iron railing. The remains of the Prince were dug out on the 20th March, 1816, by order of Louis XVIII. and deposited with solemn funeral ceremony in a coffin which is placed in the same apartment where the council of war condemned him to suffer! since transformed info a chapel. Under a cenotaph, covered with a cloth of gold, is placed the coffin, with a prodigious large stone lying on it, the same that was found lying on his head, and which from its weight had crushed his skull!

The apartment is hung with black cloth, and remains continually lighted, with a guard placed over it. Mass is daily performed for the repose of his soul, agreeable to the Catholic religion.

On the lid of the coffin is the following inscription:

Ici est Le Corps De Tres-Haut, Tres-Puissant Prince Louis-Antoine-Henri De Bourbon Duc D'Enghien, Prince du Sang Pair de France Mort A Vincennes, Le 21 Mars 1804 A L'age de XXXI Ans VII mois XVIII Jours.

A marble bust of the Prince, by Bosio, is placed at the entrance.

During the periods of 1814 and 1815, when Paris was in possession of the Allies, Vincennes continued under the command of General Daumesnil, who declared that he held it for his country until the Government was settled, and would not open its gates to a foreign army. It was not attacked either of the times.

It is approached by two gates, with drawbridges, and defended by cannon on all sides. The fosse is of great depth, and dry, extending, I should suppose, nearly a quarter of a mile. It has nine towers, of prodigious height and solidity: the largest, at the south western angle, called the Donjon, is considerably more elevated than the others. The principal entrance is fronting the forest, on the north side, in the form of a triumphal arch, with six pillars, ornamented in bas-reliefs, and was decorated with marble statues, which were destroyed when it was seized by the mob.

The Donjon is surrounded by a separate ditch, within the other, of forty feet depth, and is approached by two draw-bridges; one for carriages, the other for foot passengers; and the main tower is flanked by four other angular ones, each having a high turret. The windows are treble barred within and without, so as to admit but a faint glimmering light! Three gates of great solidity are to be passed at the entrance; that which communicates with the draw-bridge of the castle is secured both within and without. After passing the three gates, there is a court, in the middle of which stands the Donjon. Three other immense gates guard its entrance!

The form of the Donjon is a square. The towers at the four angles are divided into five floors, each having a separate stair-case, and each floor is vaulted, with an apartment in the centre, sustained by pillars, which are chimneys. At each of the four corners of the apartment in the centre is a cell thirteen feet square. The towers are encompassed on the third story by a large gallery on the outside, and on the top of each there is a small circular terrace. Such is the strength and prodigious solidity of this building, that it is said to be capable of resisting the heaviest cannon, and is bomb proof. The hand of time appears not to have made any impression on its outward surface.

The first hall is called "La chambre de la question:" its name indicates sufficiently the horrid purposes to which it was appropriated! So late as the year 1790 were to be seen chairs formed of stone, where the unhappy victims were seated, with iron collars fixed to the wall by heavy chains, that confined them to the spot while undergoing the torture! In these prisons, deprived of air and light, were beds of timber, on which they were allowed to repose during the interval of their sufferings.

The upper floor, named "La salle du conseil," from the Kings holding their council there, while it was a royal residence, is secured by a door of great solidity, and each prison at the angles had three doors covered with iron plates, with double locks and treble bolts. The doors were so contrived as to open crossways, each serving as a security to the other. The first acted as a bar to the second, and this to the third, so that it was necessary to close one before the other could be opened.—Such was the mode of confinement in this prison, the walls of which are sixteen feet thick, and the arches thirty feet high.

The other eight towers were also prisons. The one called "La tour de la surintendance" contains cells six feet square; the bed places are of stone. There is a square hole to descend into the vaults beneath, where, like a tomb, the miserable prisoner was immured for ever!!! Often, alas! for imaginary crimes, or for causes which make us shudder at their wantonness and barbarity, an unfortunate victim has been torn from the bosom of his family, to perish unheard of and unknown!

The French Government have, I understand, issued an order to prevent any one from entering this place from motives of curiosity; and let us hope that the humane and enlightened policy of the restored Monarch will close its cells for ever!

The following beautiful lines, with which I close an account of the most horribly interesting spot I ever visited, are from the pen of Delille:

".......................... Voyez gemir en proie a sa longue torture, Ce mortel confine dans sa noire cloture. Pour unique plaisir et pour seul passe-temps, De sa lente journee il compte les instans, Ou de son noir cachot mesure l'etendue, Ou medite en secret sa fuite inattendue; Ou, de ceux qu'avant lui renferma la prison, Lit, sur ces tristes murs, la complainte et le nom: Et lui-meme y tracant sa douloureuse histoire, A ceux qui le suivront en transmet la memoire. C'est peu d'etre enchaine dans ces tristes tombeaux, Combien de souvenirs viennent aigrir ses maux! Helas! tandis qu'aupres de leurs jeunes compagnes; Dans les riches cites, dans les vastes campagnes; Ses amis d'autrefois errent en liberte, Lorsque l'heure propice a la societe, Reconduit chaque soir la jeunesse folatre Aux entretiens joyeux, a la danse, au theatre, Ou, d'un plaisir plus doux annoncant le retour, Du moment fortune vient avertir l'amour, Il est seul; ... en un long et lugubre silence, Pour lui le jour s'acheve, et le jour recommence; Il n'entend point l'accent de la tendre amitie, Il ne voit point les pleurs de la douce pitie: N'ayant de mouvement que pour trainer des chanes, Un coeur que pour l'ennui, des sens que pour les peines, Pour lui, plus de beaux jours, de ruisseau, de gazon; Cette voute est son ciel, ces murs son horizon, Son regard, eleve vers les flambeaux celestes, Vient mourir dans la nuit de ses cachots funestes; Rien n'egaie a ses yeux leur morne obscurite; Ou si, par des barreaux avares de clarte, Un faible jour se glisse en ces antres funebres, Il redouble pour lui les horreurs des tenebres, Et, le coeur consume d'un regret sans espoir, Il cherche la lumiere et gemit de la voir."

DELILLE. CHATEAU DE SAINT GERMAIN.

This ancient pile of building is now a barrack for the King's Gardes du Corps, containing two troops, one of Luxembourg, and the other of Grammont, which are relieved every three months.

It is supposed to have been built in the reign of Robert, but there appears to be no certainty as to the exact period. It is interesting to the English traveller, from having been the last refuge of James the Second of England, and the residence, at various times, of very celebrated and distinguished characters. It was taken, and pillaged, and partly burnt, during the reign of Philip VI, in 1346, by Edward the Third, and again by the English in 1419, and rebuilt by Francis the First. During the war of the League in 1574, Catherine de Medicis retired to this Castle, but from the predictions of an astrologer, that she would die there, quitted it shortly after, and returned to the Tuilleries, which Palace she had founded.[14] Henry the Fourth often frequented Saint Germain. The Chateau Neuf, and one of the towers, called Le Pavilion de Gabrielle, which is still in good preservation, were erected by him, close to the Castle, for the residence of his favourite, La belle Gabrielle:[15] and the superb terrace was begun in his reign. From this spot the view is very interesting and extensive: nothing can surpass the admirable assemblage of hills, meadows, gardens, and vineyards, which charm the eye, and which as they are viewed from its different points on a clear summer's evening, appear at every turn, in new beauty, and endless variety.

[Footnote 14: According to Mezeray, this palace had its name from the spot whereon it is situated, which was called Les Tuilleries, because tiles (des tuiles) were made here. Catherine de Medicis built it 1564. It consisted of nothing but the large square pavilion in the middle, the two wings, and the two pavilions which terminate the wings. Henry IV. Louis XIII. and Louis XIV. afterwards extended, elevated, and embellished it. It is said to be neither so well proportioned, so beautiful, or so regular, as it was at first. The Tuilleries is, nevertheless, a very splendid palace. An astrologer having predicted to Catherine de Medicis, that she would die near St. Germain, she immediately flew, in a most superstitious manner, from all places and churches that bore this name; she no more resorted to St. Germain-en-Laye, and because her palace of the Tuilleries was situated in the parish of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, she was at the expense of building another, which was the Hotel de Soissons, near the church of St. Eustache. When it was known to be Laurence de Saint Germain, Bishop of Nazareth, who had attended her upon her death-bed, people infatuated with astrology averred that the prediction had been accomplished.]

[Footnote 15: Henri IV se plaisait beaucoup a Saint-Germain, et y vint souvent, quand son coeur fut epris des charmes de la belle Gabrielle. Ce prince galant et liberal, qui deja lui avait prouve son amour par le don d'une infinite de maisons de campagne, aux environs de Paris, voulut encore lui donner une preuve de sa tendresse, en batissant pour elle, a deux cents toises de l'ancien chateau, une nouvelle et belle habitation, qu'on appela le Chateau Neuf. Eleve sur les dessins de l'architecte Marchand, il etait surtout remarquable par son architecture simple, ses nombreuses devises, les chiffres amoureux et les emblemes allegoriques qui le decoroient, et qui faisoient une ingenieuse allusion a la passion du monarque pour sa maitresse. L'une des ailes de ce chateau s'appelait meme le Pavillon de Gabrielle.—Hist. Topo. des Environs de Paris.]

The City of Paris is seen in the distance. The fine aqueduct of Marly, the mountain de Coeur volant, Mount Calvary,[16] and Malmaison to the right; in front the forest of Vesinet, and beyond it the vale of Saint Denis; on the left the hills which encompass the beautiful vale of Montmorency; the Seine winding at the foot, and extending its course until it loses itself in the distance—all within one sweep of the eye!—Such is the enchanting prospect which presents itself.

It was at different times the residence of Louis XIII.[17] of Anne of Austria, Christiana of Sweden, and of Madame La Valiere, when Madame de Montespan rivalled her in the affections of Louis XIV. After the former had retired to the Convent of the Carmelites at Paris, it was assigned in 1689 to the unfortunate James the Second, whose bigotry had driven him from the throne of England. Here, together with his Queen, and those of his court who fled with him to seek an asylum in France, and surrounded by those priests and monks, whose pernicious councils had led to his fall, the unhappy James remained until his death, the 16th Sept. 1701. The apartment in which he breathed his last is still preserved; but the whole of the interior has been very much neglected. It served as a quarter for a body of Prussians in 1815, and the following year was a barrack for the English troops quartered at St. Germain. A French poet of his time wrote these lines descriptive of the life he led in his retirement.

"C'est ici que Jacques second, Sans Ministres et sans maitresse, Le matin allait a la Messe, Et le soir allait au sermon".

[Footnote 16: On the top of this height is the Pavilion de Lucienne, built by Madame Dubarry, Mistress to Louis XV. afterwards the property of Madame La Princesse de Conti, now the residence of M. de Puy: at the foot is the village of Lucienne, surrounded by numerous villas: among the most remarkable is the residence of General Comte Campon.]

[Footnote 17: Lewis XIV. would not reside here, because the steeples of the Abbey of St. Denis, where he was to be interred, could be seen from the Chateau. The amount of the immense treasure which the consequent erection of the Palace of Versailles cost was never known, the King Mary Stewart, daughter of James, died here in April 1712, and his Queen, in May 1718. These were the last persons of any consequence who inhabited this palace, which in its exterior still preserves all its ancient appearance of grandeur. It is built of stone, with a facing of red brick, the windows are of great height, and the whole is surrounded by a deep ditch, forming a very striking contrast to the buildings of the present age, having destroyed the bills with his own hand. In the neighbourhood of Versailles stands the celebrated Military School of St. Cyr, which was originally an establishment for the gratuitous admission of two hundred and fifty young ladies of rank, who were to receive an education correspondent to their situation in life. Madame de Maintenon is buried in the Chapel of the Convent.]



FOREST OF SAINT GERMAIN.

This forest is enclosed by a wall of thirty miles in circumference, according to M. Prudhomme. It is now preserved exclusively for the Duc de Berri, who is the Ranger.

Of all the ancient forests with which Paris is surrounded, this is the most extensive. It is stocked with prodigious quantities of game, with deer, and wild boar. The pheasants and partridges are reared in an extensive faisanderie, in the centre of the forest, enclosed by a high wall, and such vigilance is exercised by the keepers, that no person can possibly destroy the game. It is guarded by a captain and two lieutenants, who have under them a corps of gardes de chasse.

The royal chace is, at the commencement of the season, quite a state ceremony, at which all the royal family and the court assemble to be spectators. The dress of the hunt is green and gold, with gold laced cocked hats and swords. The Duke invites his party, and gives them permission to wear the uniform, which is considered a high honour.

Nothing can be more delightful than the walks and rides through this forest; the roads are kept in the best possible state. At intervals are large open spaces called Etoiles, from whence branch off sometimes ten and twelve roads with direction posts, each bearing a separate name, either from some memorable event, or remarkable person; as the croix de Poissy, croix de la Pucelle, croix de Montchevreuil, croix de Berri, and croix de Noailles, &c. &c.

A story is related of a lamentable occurrence which took place the 7th June 1812, at the Etoile des Marres, and a similar one happened in August this year, near the same spot.

The first of these events was occasioned by the parents of a young lady having refused their consent to her being married to her lover, whose want of fortune was the chief obstacle. The lovers, in despair, came to the fatal resolution of putting a period to their lives, and this forest was fixed upon as the spot for the dreadful deed! Having partaken of a repast which they had brought with them, and sworn to love each other (if it were permitted them) after death, they discharged, at the same moment, their pistols at themselves. The unhappy girl fell dead, but the hand of her lover having missed its aim, he was only wounded. Having no other means left of accomplishing his dreadful purpose, he took the handkerchief from her bosom and suspended himself by it to a tree. In this state they were discovered, and their bodies deposited in the same grave! The other circumstance was of the same romantic and melancholy nature.[18] This forest supplies Paris with great quantities of wood. In 1814, and in 1815, the palisades that were made to surround Paris for its defence against the Allied armies, were cut in this wood, and the large timber has consequently been greatly thinned.

[Footnote 18: There never was known in this country so many fatal instances of suicide as at the present period; few days pass over without some persons throwing themselves out of their windows, or into the river Seine; and among the disappointed partizans of the late ruler, it has been usual to hurl themselves from the top of the column in the Place Vendome, which has been shut up in consequence by an order from Government.

Among the instances of deliberate self-destruction, the following is a remarkable fact, inasmuch as it serves to prove the pernicious effects of the writings of Voltaire and Rousseau in the minds of youth, when at an age incapable of discriminating between fanaticism and real piety!

The person in question was a youth not turned sixteen, who destroyed himself last summer, while at college, and who left the following paper as his last will. The lady who gave it me copied it from the original.

"Testament de Villemain.

"Samedi. July 6th, 1816.

"Je donne mon corps aux Pedants: je legue mon ame aux manes de Voltaire et de J.J. Rousseau, qui m'ont appris a mepriser toutes les vaines superstitions de ce monde, et tous les vains prejuges qu'a enfantes la grossierete des hommes, et surtout les subtiles noirceurs des fourbes de Pretres.

"J'ai toujours reconnu un Etre supreme, et ma religion a toujours ete la religion naturelle.

"Quant a mes biens terrestres, je donne: (Here he mentions various articles to his favorite school-fellows).

"A Mondesir, mon dernier soupir.

"J'ai toujours connu, je l'ai dit plus haut, reconnu un Etre supreme, j'ai toujours pense que la seul religion digne de lui, etait la vertu et la probite!

"J'ose dire que je m'en suis rarement ecarte malgre la faiblesse, et la fragilite humaine.

"Je parois devant l'Etre supreme en disant avec Voltaire: 'Un Bonze, honnete homme, un Dervis, charitable, trouveront plutot grace a ses yeux, qu'un Pontife ambitieux.'"

Then follows a Latin quotation, "All things are due to death, and without delay, sooner or later, hasten to the same goal: Hither we all tend: This is our last asylum".

"De tout les Pedants qui m'ont le plus tourmente je compte surtout Poir, son Jeannes et Veissier, qui sont la cause du vol que je fais a la nature en tranchant moi meme le fil de mes jours; je leur pardonne, l'equite le fait aussi: Je n'ai cesse de repeter avec Rousseau avant de mourir. 'Tu veux cesser de vivre, sais-tu si tu as commence.'

"Adieu!!! Mortels et foiblesses! VILLEMAIN".]

Here conclude my notes, and if my reader has condescended to accompany me through my little Tour without feeling fatigue or displeasure at his "Compagnon de Voyage," my aim and ambition as an author are satisfied—so wishing that all the journeys he may ever take, may prove as delightful to him as this has been to me, I sincerely thank him for his attention, and kindly bid him Farewell!

FINIS.