In the afternoon I went to visit the Dome or Cathedral. It is a fine specimen of Gothic architecture, but singular enough the steeple is not yet finished. In this Cathedral the most remarkable thing is the Chapel of the Three Kings, wherein is deposited a massy gold chest inlaid with precious stones of all sorts and of great value, containing the bones of the identical three Kings (it is said) who came from the East to worship the infant Jesus at Bethlehem. The Scriptures say it was three wise men or Magi. The legend however calls them Kings and gives them Gothic names. Let schoolmen and theologians reconcile this difference: ce n'est point notre affaire. To me it appears that when the German tribes embraced Christianity and enrolled themselves under the banner of St Peter, it was thought but fair to allow them to give vent to a little nationality and to blend their old traditions with the new-fangled doctrine, and no doubt the Sovereign Pontiffs thought that the people could never be made to believe too much; the same policy is practised by the Jesuit missionaries in China, where in order to flatter the national vanity and bend it to their purposes they represent Jesus Christ as being a great personal friend and correspondent of Confucius.

To return to these monarchs, wise men or Magi: their sculls are kept separate to the rest of the bones and each scull bears a crown of gold. But if you are fond of miracles, legends, and details of relics, come with me to the Church of St Ursula in this city, and see the proof positive of the miraculous legend of the eleven thousand Virgins who suffered martyrdom in this city, in the time of Attila; the bones of all of whom are carefully preserved here and adorn the interior walls of the Church in the guise of arms arranged in an armoury. Eleven thousand sculls, each bearing a golden or gilt crown, grin horribly on the spectator from the upper part of the interior walls of the church, where they are placed in a row. What a fine subject this would make for a ballad in the style of Buerger to suppose that on a particular night in the year, at the midnight hour when mortals in slumbers are bound, the bones all descending from the walls where they are arranged, forming themselves into bodies, clapping on their heads and dancing a skeleton dance round the Ghost of Attila! The people of Cologne, in the time of the ecclesiastical Electorate, had the reputation of being extremely superstitious, and no doubt there were many who implicitly believe this pious tale; indeed, who could refuse their assent to its authenticity, on beholding the proof positive in the sculls and bones?

I recollect that in the History of the Compere Mathiew[21] the Pere Jean rates mightily the natives of Cologne for their bigotry and superstition and for the bad reception they gave to him and to his philosophy. That people are happier from a blind belief, as some pretend, appears to me extremely problematical. For my part, under no circumstances can I think bliss to consist in ignorance; nor have I felt any particular discomfort in having learned at a very early age to put under my feet, as Lucretius expresses it, the strepitum Acherontis avari. On the contrary, it has made me a perfect cosmopolitan, extinguished all absurd national and religious prejudices, and rendered me at home wherever I travel; and I meet the Catholic, the Lutheran, the Moslem, the Jew, the Hindou and the Guebre as a brother. Quo me cunque ferat tempestas, deferor hospes.[22] Let me add one word more to obviate any misrepresentation of my sentiments from some malignant Pharisee, that tho' I am no friend to King-craft and Priest-craft, and cannot endure that religion should ever be blended with politics, yet I am a great admirer of the beautiful and consoling philosophy or theosophy of Jesus Christ which inculcates the equality of Mankind, and represents the Creator of the universe, the Author of all being, as the universal Father of the human race.

Cologne derives its name from Colonia, as it was a Roman Colony planted here to protect the left bank of the Rhine from the incursions of the German hordes. It is here that the grand and original manufactory of the far-famed Eau de Cologne is to be seen. The Eau de Cologne is a sovereign remedy for all kinds of disorders, and if the affiches of the proprietor, Jean-Marie Farina, be worthy of credit, he is as formidable a check to old Pluto as ever Aesculapius was. The sale of this water is immense.

On my return to the inn, I met with a Dutch clergyman who was travelling with his pupils, three very fine boys, the sons of a Dutch lady of rank. He was to conduct them to the University of Neuwied, on the right bank of the Rhine, in order to place them there for their education. The young men seem to have profited much from their studies. Their tutor seemed to be a well-informed man and of liberal ideas; he preferred speaking German to French, as he said he had not much facility in expressing himself in the latter language. He said if I were going his way he would be happy to have the pleasure of my company, to which I very willingly acceded, and we agreed to start the next morning early so as to arrive at Bonn to breakfast, and then to go on to Godesberg, where he proposed to remain a few days.

From the windows of our inn we have a fine view of the river, and I have not omitted doing hommage to old Father Rhine by taking up some of his water in the hollow of my hand to drink. The Rhine of later years has been considered the guardian of Germany against the hostile incursions of the French, and Schiller represents this river as a Swiss vigilant on his post, yet in spite of his vigilance and fidelity unable to prevent his restless neighbour from forcing his safeguard. The following are the lines of Schiller where the river speaks in a distich:

Treu wie dem Schwfeizer gebuehrt bewach'ich Germaniens Grenze, Aber der Gallier huepft ueber den duldenden Strom.

In vain my stream I interpose To guard Germania's realm from foes; The nimble Gauls my cares deride And often leap on t'other side.

GODESBERG, 4th July.

The distance from Cologne to Bonn is 18 miles and Godesberg is three miles further. We stopped to breakfast at Bonn and after breakfast made a promenade thro' the city. Bonn is a handsome, clean, well-built and cheerful looking city and the houses are good and solid.

The Electoral Palace is a superb building, but is not occupied and is falling rapidly to decay. From the terrace in the garden belonging to this Palace, which impends over the Rhine, you have a fine view of this noble river. This Palace was at one time made use of as a barrack by the French, and since the secularization of the Ecclesiastical Electorates it has not been thought worth while to embellish or even repair it. There is a Roman antiquity in this town called the Altar of Victory, erected on the Place St Remi, but remarkable for nothing but its antiquity; it seems to be a common Roman altar.[23] The road from Bonn to Godesberg is three miles in length and thro' a superb avenue of horse-chesnut trees; but before you arrive at Godesberg, there is on the left side of the road a curious specimen of Gothic architecture called Hochkreutz, very like Waltham cross in appearance, but much higher and in better preservation; it was erected by some feudal Baron to expiate a homicide. The castle of Godesberg is situated on an eminence and commands a fine prospect; it is now a mass of rums and the walls only remain. It derives its name of Godesberg or Goetzenberg from the circumstance of its having been formerly the site of a temple of Minerva built in the time of the Romans, and thence called Goetzenberg by the Christians, Goetze in German signifying an idol.

On the plain at the foot of the hill of Godesberg and at the distance of an eighth of a mile from the river, a shelving cornfield intervening, stand three large hotels and a ridotto, all striking edifices. To the south of these is situated a large wood. These hotels are always full of company in the summer and autumn: they come here to drink the mineral waters, a species of Seltzer, the spring of which is about a quarter of a mile distant from the hotels. The hotel at which we put up bears the name of Die schoene Aussicht (la Belle Vue) and well does it deserve the name; for it commands a fine view of the reaches of the river, north and south. Directly on the opposite bank, abruptly rising, is the superb and magnificent chain of mountains called the Sieben Gebirge or Seven Mountains. On the summit of these mountains tower the remains of Gothic castles or keeps, still majestic, tho' in ruins, and frowning on the plains below; they bring to one's recollection the legends and chronicles of the Middle Ages. They bear terrible awe-inspiring names such as Drachenfels, Loewenberg; the highest of them is called Drachenfels or the Rock of Dragons and on it stood the Burg or Chateau of a Feudal Count or Raubgraf, who was the terror of the surrounding country, and has given rise to a very interesting romance called The Knights of the Seven Mountains. This feudal tyrant used to commit all sorts of depredations and descend into the plains below, in order to intercept the convoys of merchandize passing between Aix-la-Chapelle and Frankfort. It was to check these abuses and oppressions that was instituted the famous Secret Tribunal Das heimliche Gericht, the various Governments in Germany being then too weak to protect their subjects or to punish these depredations. This secret tribunal, from the summary punishments it inflicted, the mysterious obscurity in which it was enveloped, and the impossibility of escaping from its pursuit, became the terror of all Germany. They had agents and combinations everywhere, and exercised such a system of espionage as to give to their proceedings an appearance of supernatural agency. A simple accusation was sufficient for them to act upon, provided the accuser solemnly swore to the truth of it without reserve, and consented to undergo the same punishment as the accused was subjected to, in case the accusation should be false; till this solemnity was gone through, no pursuit was instituted against the offender. There was scarcely ever an instance of a false accusation, for it was well known that no power could screen the delator from the exemplary punishment that awaited him; and there were no means of escaping from the omniscience and omnipotence of the secret tribunal.

To return to Godesberg, it is a most beautiful spot and much agreeable society is here to be met with. The families of distinction of the environing country come here for the purpose of recreation and drinking the mineral waters. We sit down usually sixty to dinner, and I observe some very fine women among them. On Sunday there is a ball at the ridotto. The promenades in the environs are exceedingly romantic, and this place is the favourite resort of many new married couples who come here to pass the honeymoon. The scenery of the surrounding country is so picturesque and beautiful as to require the pencil of an Ariosto or Wieland to do justice to it:

Ne se tutto cercato avessi il mondo Vedria di questo un pin gen til paese.[24]

And, had he ranged the universal world, Would not have seen a lovelier in his round.

—Trans. W.S. ROSE.

To the researches of the naturalist and mineralogist the Seven Mountains offer inexhaustible resources. The living and accommodation of the three hotels are very reasonable. For one and a half florins you have an excellent and plentiful dinner at the table d'hote, including a bottle of Moselle wine and Seltzer water at discretion; by paying extra you can have the Rhine wines of different growths and crops and French wines of all sorts.

I am much pleased with the little I have seen of the German women. They appear to be extremely well educated. I observe many of them in their morning walks with a book in their hand either of poetry or a novel. Schiller is the favourite poet among them and Augustus Lafontaine the favourite novel writer.[25] He is a very agreeable author were he not so prolix; yet we English have no right to complain of this fault, since there is no novel in all Germany to compare in point of prolixity with Clarissa, Sit Charles Grandison, or Tom Jones. The great fault of Augustus Lafontaine is that of including in one novel the history of two or three generations. A beautiful and very interesting tale of his, however, is entirely free from this defect and is founded on a fact. It is called Dankbarkeit und Liebe (Gratitude and Love). There is more real pathos in this novelette than in the Nouvelle Heloise of Rousseau.

EHRENBREITSTEIN, 8 July.

After a sejour of three days at Godesberg, we left that delightful residence and proceeded to Neuwied to deposit the boys. We stopped, however, for an hour or two at Andernach, which is situated in a beautiful valley on the left bank. We viewed the remains of the palace of the Kings of Austrasia and the church where the body of the Emperor Valentinian is preserved embalmed.

Andernach is remarkable for being the exact spot where Julius Caesar first crossed the Rhine to make war on the German nations. Directly opposite Neuwied, which is on the right bank, stands close to the village of Weissenthurm the monument erected to the French General Hoche. We crossed over to Neuwied in a boat. Neuwied is a regular, well-built town, but rather of a sombre melancholy appearance and is only remarkable for its university. Science could not chuse a more tranquil abode. This University has been ameliorated lately by its present sovereign the King of Prussia. It was not the interest of Napoleon to favour any establishment on the right bank at the expence of those on the left, the former being out of his territory. At Neuwied I took leave of my agreeable fellow travellers, as they intended to remain there and I to go on to Ehrenbreitstein. An opportunity presented itself the same afternoon of which I profited. I met with an Austrian Captain of Infantry and his lady at the inn where I stopped who were going to Ehrenbreitstein in their caleche, and they were so kind as to offer me a place in it. I found them both extremely agreeable; both were from Austria proper. He had left the Austrian service some time ago and had since entered into the Russian service; from that he was lately transferred, together with the battalion to which he belonged, into the service of Prussia and placed on the retired list of the latter with a very small pension. He did not seem at all satisfied with this arrangement. He had served in several campaigns against the French in Germany, Italy and France, and was well conversant in French and Italian litterature.

We stopped en passant at a maison de plaisance and superb English garden belonging to the Duke of Nassau-Weilburg. The house is in the style of a cottage orne, but very roomy and tastefully fitted up; but nothing can be more diversified and picturesque than the manner in which the garden is laid out. The ground being much broken favours this; and in one part of it is a ravine or valley so romantic and savage, that you would fancy yourself in Tinian or Juan Fernandez. We arrived late in the evening in the Thal Ehrenbreitstein, which lies at the foot of the gigantic hill fortress of that name, which frowns over it and seems as if it threatened to fall and crush it. My friends landed me at the inn Zum weissen Pferd (the White Horse), where there is most excellent accommodation. Just opposite Ehrenbreitstein, on the left bank, is Coblentz; a superb flying bridge, which passes in three minutes, keeps up the communication between the two towns.

Early the next morning, I ascended the stupendous rock of Ehrenbreitstein, which has a great resemblance to the hill forts in India, such as Gooty, Nundydroog, etc. It is a place of immense natural strength, but the fortifications were destroyed by the French, who did not chuse to have so formidable a neighbour so close to their frontier, as the Rhine then was. The Prussian Government, however, to whom it now belongs, seem too fully aware of its importance not to reconstruct the fortifications with as little delay as possible. Ehrenbreitstein completely commands all the adjacent country and enfilades the embouchure of the Moselle which flows into the Rhine at Coblentz, where there is an elegant stone bridge across the Moselle. Troops without intermission continue to pass over the flying bridge bound to France, from the different German states, viz., Saxons, Hessians, Prussians, etc., so that one might apply to this scene Anna Comnena's expression relative to the Crusades, and say that all Germany is torn up from its foundation and precipitated upon France. I suppose no less than 70,000 men have passed within these few days. The German papers, particularly the Rheinische Mercur, continue to fulminate against France and the war yell resounds with as much fury as ever. From the number of troops that continue to pass it would seem as if the Allies did not mean to content themselves with the abdication of Napoleon, but will endeavour to dismember France. The Prussian officers seem to speak very confidently that Alsace and Lorraine will be severed from France and reunited to the Germanic body, to which, they say, every country ought to belong where the German language is spoken, and they are continually citing the words of an old song:

Wo ist das deutsche Vaterland?.... Wo man die deutsche Zunge spricht, Da ist das deutsche Vaterland.[26]

In English: "Where is the country of the Germans? Where the German language is spoken, there is the country of the Germans!"

Coblentz is a clean handsome city, but there is nothing very remarkable in it except a fine and spacious "Place." But in the neighbourhood stands the Chartreuse, situated on an eminence commanding a fine view of the whole Thalweg. This Chartreuse is one English mile distant from the town and my friend the Austrian Captain had the goodness to conduct me thither. It is a fine large building, but is falling rapidly to decay, being appropriated to no purpose whatever. The country is beautiful in the environs of this place, and has repeatedly called forth the admiration and delight of all travellers. Near Coblentz is the monument erected to the French General Marceau, who fell gloriously fighting for the cause of liberty, respected by friend and foe.

July 10th.

We had a large society this day at the table d'hote. The conversation turned on the restoration of the Bourbons, which nobody at table seemed to desire. Several anecdotes were related of the conduct of the Bourbon princes and of the emigration, who held their court at Coblentz when they first emigrated; these anecdotes did not redound much to their honor or credit, and I remark that they are held in great disgust and abhorrence by the inhabitants of these towns, on account of their treacherous and unprincipled conduct. It was from here that "La Cour de Coblentz," as it was called, intrigued by turns with the Jacobins and the Brissotins and, by betraying the latter to the former, were in part the cause of the sanguinary measures adopted by Robespierre.[27] The object of this atrocious policy was that the French people would, by witnessing so many executions, become disgusted at the sanguinary tyranny of Robespierre and recall the Bourbons unconditionally; which, fortunately for France and thanks to the heroism and bravery of the republican armies, did not take place; for had the restoration taken place at that time, a dreadful reaction would have been encouraged and the cruelties of the reign of Terror surpassed. With the same view, emissaries were dispatched from the Court of Coblentz to the South of France in order, under the disguise of patriots, to preach up the most exaggerated corollaries to the theories of liberty and equality.

Among other things at Ehrenbreitstein is a superb pleasure barge belonging to the Dukes of Nassau for water excursions up and down the Rhine. A coche d'eau starts from here daily to Mayence and another to Cologne. The price is ten franks the person. The superb chaussee on the left bank of the Rhine, which extends all the way from Cologne to Mayence, was constructed by the direction of Napoleon. In the evening I went to the theatre at Coblentz, where Mozart's opera of Don Giovanni was represented. I recollected my old acquaintance "La ci darem la mano," which I had often heard in England.

MAYENCE, 12th July.

I embarked in the afternoon of the 11th in the coche d'eau bound to Mayence. Except an old "Schiffer," I was the only passenger on board, as few chuse to go up stream on account of the delay. I, however, being master of my own time, and wishing to view the lovely scenery on the banks of the river, preferred this conveyance, and I was highly gratified. After Boppart, the bed of the river narrows much. High rocks on each bank hem in the stream and render it more rapid. Nothing can be more sublime and magnificent than the scenery; at every turn of the river you would suppose its course blocked up by rocks, perceiving no visible outlet. Remains of Gothic castles are to be seen on their summits at a short distance from each other, and where the banks are not abrupt and escarpes there are coteaux covered with vines down to the water's edge. The tolling of the bells at the different villages on the banks gives a most aweful solemn religious sound, and the reverberation is prolonged by the high rocks, which seem to shut you out from the rest of the world. There are the walls nearly entire of two castles of the Middle Ages, the one called "Die Katze" (the cat); the other "Die Maus" (the Mouse); each has its tradition, for which and for many other interesting particulars I refer you to Klebe's and Schreiber's description of the banks of the Rhine.

We arrived early in the evening at St Goar, where we stopped and slept. St Goar is a fine old Gothic town, romantically situated, and is famous from having two whirlpools in its neighbourhood. It is completely commanded and protected by Rheinfels, an ancient hill fortress, but the fortification of which no longer exist. It requires half an hour's walk to ascend to the summit of Rheinfels, but the traveller is well repaid for the fatigue of the ascent by the fine view enjoyed from the top. I remained at Rheinfels nearly an hour. What a solemn stillness seems to pervade this part of the river, only interrupted by the occasional splash of the oar, and the tolling of the steeple bell! Bingen on the right bank is the next place of interest, and on an island in the centre of the river facing Bingen stand the ruins of a celebrated tower call'd the "Mauesethurm" (mouse tower), so named from the circumstance of Bishop Hatto having been devoured therein by rats according to the tradition. This was represented as a punishment from Heaven on the said bishop for his tyranny and oppression towards the poor; but the story was invented by the monks in order to vilify his memory, for it appears he was obnoxious to them on account of his attempts to enforce a rigid discipline among them and to check their licentiousness.

Bieberich, a superb palace belonging to the Dukes of Nassau on the right bank, next presents itself to view on your left ascending; to your right, at a short distance from Bieberich, you catch the first view of Mayence on the left bank, with its towers and steeples rising from the glade. We reached Mayence at 4 o'clock p.m., and I went to put up at the three Crowns (Drei-Kronen). The first news I learned on arriving at Mayence was that Napoleon had surrendered himself to the Captain of an English frigate at Oleron; but though particulars are not given, Louis XVIII is said to be restored, which I am very sorry to hear. The Allies then have been guilty of the most scandalous infraction of their most solemn promise, since they declared that they made war on Napoleon alone and that they never meant to dictate to the French people the form of government they were to adopt. Napoleon having surrendered and Louis being restored, the war may be considered as ended for the present, unless the Allies should attempt to wrest any provinces from France, and in this case there is no saying what may happen. This has finally ended the career of Napoleon.

There is in Mayence a remarkably fine broad spacious street called "die grosse Bleiche" and in general the buildings are striking and solid, but too much crowded together as is the case in all ancient fortified cities. The Cathedral is well worth seeing and contains many things of value and costly relics. When one views the things of value in the churches here, at Aix-la-Chapelle and at Cologne, what a contradiction does it give to the calumnies spread against the French republicans that they plundered the churches of the towns they occupied! There is an agreeable promenade lined with trees on the banks of the river called L'Allee du Rhin. Mayence is strongly fortified and has besides a citadel (a pentagon) of great strength, which is separated from the town by an esplanade. The Place du Marche is striking and in the Place Verte I saw for the first time in my life the Austrian uniform, there being an Austrian garrison as well as troops belonging to the other Germanic states, such as Prussians, Bavarians, Saxons, Hessians, and troops of the Duchy of Berg. This City belongs to the Germanic Confederation and is to be always occupied by a mixed garrison. The Archduke Charles has his head-quarters here at present. I attended an inspection of a battalion of Berg troops on the Place Verte; they had a very military appearance and went thro' their manoeuvres with great precision. From the top of the steeple of the Church of Sanct Stephen you have a fine view of the whole Rheingau. Opposite to Mayence, on the right bank, communicating by an immensely long bridge of boats, is the small town and fort of Castel, which forms a sort of tete-de-pont to Mayence. The works of Castel take in flank and enfilade the embouchure of the river Mayn which flows into the Rhine. One of the redoubts of Castel is called the redoubt of Montebello, thus named after Marshal Lannes, Duke of Montebello.

The German papers continue their invectives against France. In one of them I read a patriotic song recommending the youth of Germany to go into France to revenge themselves, to drink the wine and live at the cost of the inhabitants, and then is about to recommend their making love to the wives and daughters of the French, when a sudden flash of patriotism comes across him, and he says: "No! for that a German warrior makes love to German girls and German women only!" (Und kuesst nur Deutsche Maedchen.) With regard to the women here, those that I have hitherto met with, and those I saw at Ehrenbreitstein, were exceedingly handsome, so that the German warriors, if love is their object, will do well to remain here, as they may go further and fare worse, for I understand the women of Lorraine and Champagne are not very striking for personal beauty. There were some good paintings in the picture gallery here and this and the fortifications are nearly all that need call forth the attention of a traveller who makes but a fleeting visit.

FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAYN, 14th July.

I arrived here the day before yesterday in the diligence from Mayence, the price of which is two and a half florins the person, and the distance twenty-five English miles; there is likewise a water conveyance by the Mayn for half the money. The road runs thro' the village of Hockheim, which in England gives the name of Hock to all the wines of Rhenish growth. The country is undulating in gentle declivities and vales and is highly cultivated in vines and corn. I put up here at the Hotel Zum Schwan (The Swan), which is a very large and spacious hotel and has excellent accommodation. There is a very excellent table d'hote at one o'clock at this hotel, for which the price is one and a half florins the person, including a pint of Moselle wine and a krug or jar of Seltzer water. About four or five o'clock in the afternoon it is the fashion to come and drink old Rhine wine a l'Anglaise. That sort called Rudesheimer I recommend as delicious. There is also a very pleasant wine called the Ingelheimer, which is in fact the "red Hock." At one of these afternoon meetings a gentleman who had just returned from Paris related to us some anecdotes of what passed at the Conference between the French commissioners who were sent after the abdication of Napoleon, by the provisional government, to treat with the Allies; in which it appeared that the British commissioner, Lord S[tewart],[28] brother to the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, made rather a simple figure by his want of historical knowledge or recollection. He began, it seems, in rather a bullying manner, in the presence of the commissioners, to declaim against what he called the perfidy and mutiny of the French army against their lawful Sovereign; when the venerable Lafayette, who was one of the commissioners and who is ever foremost when his country has need of his assistance, remarked to him that the English revolution in 1688, which the English were accustomed always to stile glorious, and which he (Lafayette) stiled glorious also, was effectuated in a similar manner by the British army abandoning King James and ranging themselves under the standard of the Prince of Orange; that if it was a crime on the part of the French army to join Napoleon, their ancient leader who had led them so often to victory, it was a still greater crime on the part of the English army to go over to the Prince of Orange who was unknown to them and a foreigner in the bargain; and that therefore this blame of the French army, coming from the mouth of an Englishman, surprised him, the more so as the Duke of Marlborough, the boast and pride of the English, set the example of defection from his Sovereign, who had been his greatest benefactor. Lord S[tewart], who did not appear to be at all conscious of this part of our history, was staggered, a smile was visible on the countenances of all the foreign diplomatists assembled there, and Lord S[tewart], to hide his confusion, and with an ill-disguised anger, turned to Lafayette and said that the Allies would not treat until Napoleon should be delivered to them. "Je m'etonne, my lord, qu'en faisant une proposition si infame et si deshonorante, vous vous plaisez de vous adresser au prisonnier d'Olmuetz," was the dignified answer of that virtuous patriot and ever ardent veteran of liberty.[29]

The main street in Frankfort called the Zeil is very broad and spacious, and can boast of a number of splendid houses belonging to individuals, particularly the house of Schweitzer[30]; and on the Quai, on the banks of the Mayn, there is a noble range of buildings. The bridge across the Mayn is very fine and on the other side of the river is the suburb of Sachsenhansen, which is famous for being the head-quarters of the priestesses of the Venus vulgivaga who abound in this city. There are in Frankfort an immense number of Jews, who have a quarter of the city allotted to them. The gardens that environ the town are very tastefully laid out, and serve as the favourite promenade of the beau monde of Frankfort. The Cathedral will always be a place of interest as the temple wherein in later times the German Caesars were crowned and inaugurated. At the Hotel de Ville called the Roemer, which is an ugly Gothic building, but interesting from its being in this edifice that the Emperors were chosen, is to be seen the celebrated Golden Bull which is written on parchment in the Latin language with a golden seal attached to it. In the Hall where the Electors used to sit on the election of an Emperor of the Romans, are to be seen the portraits of several of the Emperors, and a very striking one in particular of the Emperor Joseph II, in full length, in his Imperial robes. There is no table d'hote at the Swan for supper, but this meal is served up a la carte, which is very convenient for those who do not require copious meals. At the same table with me at supper sat a very agreeable man with whom I entered into conversation. He was a Hessian and had served in a Hessian battalion in the English service during the American war. He was so kind as to procure me admission to the Casino at the Hotel Rumpf,[31] where there is a literary institution and where they receive newspapers, pamphlets and reviews in the German, French, English and Italian languages. In Frankfort there are several houses of individuals which merit the name of palaces, and there is a great display of opulence and industry in this city. In the environs there is abundance of maisons de plaisance. For commerce it is the most bustling city (inland) in all Germany, besides it being the seat of the present German Diet; and from here, as from a centre, diverge the high roads to all parts of the Empire.

I have been once at the theatre, which is very near the Swan. A German opera, the scene whereof was in India, was given. The scenery and decorations were good, appropriate, and the singing very fair. The theatre itself is dirty and gloomy. The German language appears to me to be better adapted to music than either the French or English. The number of dactylic terminations in the language give to it all the variety that the sdruccioli give to the Italian. As to poetry, no language in the world suits itself better to all the vagaries and phantasies of the Muse, since it possesses so much natural rythm and allows, like the Greek, the combination of compound words and a redundancy of epithets, and it is besides so flexible that it lends itself to all the ancient as well as the modern metres with complete success: indeed it is the only modern language that I know of which does so.

As for political opinions here, the Germans seem neither to wish nor to care about the restoration of the Bourbons; but they talk loudly of the necessity of tearing Alsace and Lorraine from France. In fact, they wish to put it out of the power of the French ever to invade Germany again; a thing however little to be hoped for. For the minor and weaker Germanic states have always hitherto (and will probably again at some future day) invoked the assistance of France against the greater and stronger. I observe that the Austrian Government is not at all popular here, and that its bad faith in financial matters is so notorious and has been so severely felt here, that a merchant told me, alluding to the bankruptcy of the Austrian Government on two occasions when there was no absolute necessity for the measure, that Frankfort had suffered more from the bad faith of the Austrian Government than from all the war contributions levied by the French.

BRUXELLES, 28th July.

On arrival at Coblentz we heard that Napoleon had surrendered himself unconditionally to Capt. Maitland of the Bellerophon. He never should have humiliated himself so far as to surrender himself to the British ministry. He owed to himself, to his brave fellow soldiers, to the French nation whose Sovereign he had been, not to take such a step, but rather die in the field like our Richard III, a glorious death which cast a lustre around his memory in spite of the darker shades of his character; or if he could not fall in the field, he should have died like Hannibal, rather than commit himself into the hands of a government in which generosity is by no means a distinguishing feature, and which on many occasions has shown a petty persecuting and vindictive spirit, and thus I have no hesitation in portraying the characteristics of our Tory party, which, unfortunately for the cause of liberty, rules with undivided sway over England. He will now end his days in captivity, for his destination appears to be already fixed, and St Helena is named as the intended residence; he will, I say, be exposed to all the taunts and persecutions that petty malice can suggest; and this with the most uncomfortable reflections: for had he been more considerate of the spirit of the age, he might have set all the Monarchs, Ultras and Oligarchs and their ministers at defiance. But he wished to ape Charlemagne and the Caesars and to establish an universal Empire: a thing totally impossible in our days and much to be deprecated were it possible.

Consigned to St Helena, Napoleon will furnish to posterity a proverb like that of Dionysius at Corinth. This banishment to St Helena will be very ungenerous and unjust on the part of the English Government, but I suppose their satellites and adherents will term it an act of clemency, and some Church and Kingmen would no doubt recommend hewing him in pieces, as Samuel did to Agag.

I stopped three days at Aix-la-Chapelle to drink the waters and then came straight to this place stopping half a day in Liege. I shall start for Paris in a couple of days, as the communication is now open and the public conveyances re-established. My passport is vise in the following terms: "Bon pour aller a Paris en suivant la route des armees alliees." I am quite impatient to visit that celebrated city.

[18] Philipp Klingmann (1762-1824) was better known as an actor than as an author.—ED.

[19] Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, VII, 12, 1.—ED.

[20] "What business have you? None, I travel for amusement. Strange! What is there strange in travelling to see a fine country?"

[21] Le Compere Mathieu, a satirical novel by the Abbe Henri Joseph Dulaurens, published 1765 and sometimes (though wrongly) attributed to Voltaire. One of the prominent talkers in the dialogues is Pere Jean de Domfront.—ED.

[22] Horace, Epist., I, i, 15.—ED.

[23] This altar, inscribed Deae Victoriae Sacrum (Corpus inscr. lat. XIII, 8252), was erected by the Roman fleet on the Rhine at the place now called Altsburg near Cologne and, after its discovery, taken to Bonn, where it was set up on the Remigius-Platz (now called Roemer-Platz) on Dec, 3, 1809. It is now in the Provincial Museum.—ED.

[24] Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, vi, 20, 3.—ED.

[25] August Lafontaine (1758-1831), born in Brunswick of a family of French protestants, was the very prolific and now quite forgotten author of many novels and novelettes.—ED.

[26] From Ernst Moritz Arndt's (1779-1860) celebrated poem, Des Deutschen Vaterland.—ED.

[27] There seems to be much truth in this opinion, though the question of the intrigues of Louis XVIII with Robespierre is still shrouded in obscurity. Some pages of General Thiebault's memoirs might have cleared it up, but they have been torn out from the manuscript (Memoires du General Baron Thiebault, vol. I, p. 273). Louis XVIII paid a pension to Robespierre's sister, Charlotte.—ED.

[28] Sir Charles Stewart, created Lord Stewart In 1814; he was a half-brother of Lord Castlereagh.—ED.

[29] The same story is given, with slight differences, by Lafayette himself (Memoires, vol. V, p. 472-3; Paris and Leipzig, 1838). See also Souvenirs historiques et parlementaires du Comte de Pontecoulant, vol. III, p. 428 (Paris, 1863). Major Frye's narrative is by far the oldest and seems the most trustworthy.—ED.

[30] The house in question was built about 1780 by Nicolas de Pigage for the rich merchant, Franz von Schweizer; Pigage was the son of the architect of King Stanislas at Nancy. The Schweizer palace became later on the Hotel de Russie and was demolished about 1890, the Imperial Post Office having been erected in its place. The Schweizer family is now extinct.—ED.

[31] A Casinogesellschaft, still in existence (1908), was founded at Frankfort in 1805, with the object of uniting the aristocratic elements of the city, admittance being freely allowed to distinguished strangers, in particular to the envoys of the Bundestag. The Gesellschaft or club occupied spacious rooms in the house of the once famous tapissier and decorator Major Rumpf, grandfather of the German sculptor of the same name. That building, situated at the corner of the Rossmarkt, was demolished about 1880.—ED.



CHAPTER III

From Bruxelles to Paris—Restoration of Louis XVIII—The officers of the allied armies—The Palais Royal—The Louvre—Protest of the author against the proposed despoiling of the French Museums—Unjust strictures against Napoleon's military policy—The cant about revolutionary robberies—The Grand Opera—Monuments in Paris—The Champs Elysees—Saint-Cloud—The Hotel des Invalides—The Luxembourg—General Labedoyere—Priests and emigrants—Prussian Plunder—Handsome behaviour of the English officers— Reminiscences of Eton—Versailles.

PARIS, August 3rd.

Here I am in Paris. I left Bruxelles the 29th July, stopped one night at Mons and passing thro' Valenciennes, Peronne and St Quentin arrived here on the third day. The villages and towns on the road had been pretty well stripped of eatables by the Allied army, as well as by the French, so that we did not meet with the best fare. In every village the white flag was displayed by way of propitiating the clemency of the Allies and averting plunder.

August 7th.

I have put up at the Hotel de Cahors, Rue de Richelieu, where I pay five francs per diem for a single room; such is the dearness of lodgings at this moment. It is well furnished, however, with sofas, commodes, mirrors and a handsome clock and is very spacious withal, there being an alcove for the bed. This situation is extremely convenient, being close to the Palais Royal, Rue St Honore, Theatre Francais, Louvre and the Tuileries on one side, and to the Grand Opera, the Theatre Feydeau, the Italian Opera and the Boulevards on the other. The National Library is not many yards distant from my hotel, and a few yards from that en face is the Grand Opera house or Academie Royale de Musique.

This city is filled with officers and travellers of all kinds who have followed the army. The House of Legislature of the Hundred Days,—as it is the fashion to style Napoleon's last reign—dissolved themselves on the demand of a million of francs as a war contribution made by Marshall Blucher. Louis XVIII has been hustled into Paris, and now occupies the throne of his ancestors under the protection of a million of foreign bayonets, and the banniere des Lis has replaced the tricolor on the castle of the Tuileries. A detachment of the British army occupies Montmartre, where the British flag is flying, and in the Champs Elysees and Bois de Boulogne are encamped several brigades of English and Hanoverians. The Sovereigns of Russia, Austria and Prussia are expected and then it is said that the fate of France will be decided. The Army of the Loire has at length made its submission to the King, after stipulating but in vain for the beloved tricolor. Report says it is to be immediately dissolved and a new army raised with more legitimate inclinations. Should the King accede to this, France will be completely disarmed and at the mercy of the Allies, and the King himself a state prisoner. The entrance into Paris, thro' the Faubourg St Denis, does not give to the stranger who arrives there for the first time a great idea of the magnificence of Paris; he should enter by the Avenue de Neuilly or by the Porte St Antoine, both of which are very striking and superb.

Now you must not expect that I shall or can give you a description of all the fine things that I have seen or am about to see, for they have been so often described before that it would be a perfect waste of time, and I can do better in referring you at once to the Guide des Voyageurs a Paris; so that I shall content myself with merely indicating these objects which make the most impression on me.

My first visit was, as you will have no doubt guessed, to the Palais Royal: there I breakfasted, there I dined, and there I passed the whole day without the least ennui. It is a world in itself. It swarms at present with officers of the Allied army. The variety of uniforms adds to the splendour and novelty of the scene. The restaurants and cafes are filled with them. The Palais Royal is certainly the temple of animal gratification, the paradise of gastronomes. The officers are indulging in all sorts of luxury, revelling in Champaign and Burgundy, in all the pleasures of the belly, as well as in iis quae sub ventre sunt. 'Twill be a famous harvest for the restaurateurs and for the Cyprians who parade up and down the Arcades, sure of a constant succession of suitors. In fact, whatever be the taste of a man, whether sensual or intellectual or both, he can gratify himself here without moving out of the precincts of the Palais Royal. Here are cafes, restaurants, shops of all kinds whose display of clocks, jewellery, stuffs, silks, merchandize from all parts of the world, is most brilliant and dazzling; here you find reading-rooms where newspapers, reviews and pamphlets of all tongues, nations and languages are to be met with; here are museums of paintings, statues, plans in relief, cosmoramas; here are libraries, gaming houses, houses of fair reception; cellars where music, dancing and all kinds of orgies are carried on; exhibitions of all sorts, learned pigs, dancing dogs, military canary birds, hermaphrodites, giants, dwarf jugglers from Hindostan, catawbas from America, serpents from Java, and crocodiles from the Nile. Here, so Kotzebue has calculated, you may go through all the functions of life in one day and end it afterwards should you be so inclined. You may eat, drink, sleep, bathe, go to the Cabinet d'aisance, walk, read, make love, game and, should you be tired of life, you may buy powder and ball or opium to hasten your journey across Styx; or should you desire a more classic exit, you may die like Seneca opening your veins in a bath. Deep play goes forward day and night, and I verily believe there are some persons in Paris who never quit these precincts. The restaurants and cafes are most brilliantly fitted up. One, Le Cafe des Mille Colonnes, so called from the reflection of the columns in the mirrors with which the wainscoat is lined, boasts of a limonadiere of great beauty. She is certainly a fine woman, dresses very well, as indeed most French women do, and has a remarkably fine turned arm which she takes care to display on all occasions. I do not, however, perceive much animation in her; she always appears the same, nor has she made any more impression on me—tho' I am of a very susceptible nature in this particular—than a fine statue or picture would do. There she sits on a throne and receives the hommage and compliments of most of the visitors and the money of all, which seems to please her most, for she receives the compliments which are paid her with the utmost sang-froid and indifference, and the money she takes especial care to count. English troops, conjointly with the National Guard, do duty at the entrance of the Palais Royal from the Rue St Honore; and it became necessary to have a strong guard to keep the peace, as frequent disputes take place between the young men of the Capital and the Prussian officers, against whom the French are singularly inveterate.

The French, when left to themselves, are very peaceable in their pleasures and the utmost public decorum is observed; their sobriety contributes much to this; but if there were in London an establishment similar to that of the Palais Royal, it would become a perfect pandemonium and would require an army to keep the peace. The French police keep a very sharp look-out on all political offences, but are more indulgent towards all moral ones, as long as public decorum is not infringed, and then it is severely punished. But they have none of that censoriousness or prying spirit in France which is so common in England to hunt out and criticise the private vices of their neighbours, which, in my opinion, does not proceed from any real regard for virtue, but from a fanatical, jealous, envious, and malignant spirit. Those vice-hunters never have the courage to attack a man of wealth and power; but a poor artisan or labourer, who buys a piece of meat after twelve o'clock on Saturday night, or a glass of spirits during church-time on Sunday, is termed a Sabbath-breaker and imprisoned without mercy.

In the Palais Royal the three most remarkable temples of dissipation are Very's for gastronomes, Robert's faro bank for gamesters, and the Cafe Montausier for those devoted to the fair sex. The Cafe Montausier is fitted up in the guise of a theatre where music, singing and theatrical pieces are given; you pay nothing for admission, but are expected to call for some refreshment. It is splendidly illuminated, and is the Cafe par excellence, frequented by those ladies who have made the opposite choice to that of Hercules, and who, taking into consideration the shortness and uncertainty of life, dedicate it entirely to pleasure, reflecting that

Laggiu nell' Inferno, Nell' obblio sempiterno, In sempiterno orrore, Non si parla d'amore.

Of course, this saloon is crowded with amateurs, and the Prussians and English are not the least ardent votaries of the Goddess of Paphos; many a vanquished victor sinks oppressed with wine and love on the breast of a Dalilah: this last comparison suggests itself to me from the immense quantity of hair worn by the Prussians, as if their strength, like that of Samson's, depended on their chevelure. There is a very pretty graceful girl who attends here and at the different restaurants and cafes with an assortment of bijouterie and other knick-knacks to sell. She is full of wit and repartee; but her answer to all those who attempt to squeeze her hand and make love to her is always: "Achetez quelque chose." Her name is Celine and she has a great flow of conversation on all subjects but that of love, which she invariably cuts short by "Achetez quelque chose."



10th August.

I have been to see the Museum of sculpture and painting in the Louvre, but what is to be seen there baffles all description:

Se tante lingue avessi e tante voci Quanti occhi il cielo o quante arene il mare Non basterian a dir le lodi immense.

The Apollo Belvedere, the Venus de Medici and the Laocoon first claimed my attention, and engaged me for at least an hour and a half before I could direct my attention to the other masterpieces. I admire indeed the Laocoon, still more the Venus, but the Apollo certainly bears away the palm and I fully participate of all Winkelmann's enthusiasm for that celebrated statue. The Venus is a very beautiful woman, but the Apollo is a god. One is lost, and one's imagination is bewildered when one enters into the halls of sculpture of this unparalleled collection, amidst the statues of Gods, Demi-Gods, Heroes, Philosophers, Poets, Roman Emperors, Statesmen and all the illustrious worthies that adorned the Greek and Roman page. What subjects for contemplation! A chill of awe and veneration pervaded my whole frame when I first entered into that glorious temple of the Arts. I felt as I should were I admitted among supernatural beings, or as if I had "shuffled off this mortal coil" and were suddenly ushered into the presence of the illustrious tenants of another world; in fact, I felt as if Olympus and the whole Court of Immortals were open to my view. No! I cannot describe these things, I can only feel them; I throw down the pen and call upon expressive silence to muse their praise.

Of the Picture Gallery too what can I say that can possibly give you an idea of its variety and extent? Here are the finest works of the Italian, Flemish, and French schools, and you are as much embarrassed to single out the favourite object, as the Grand Signor would be, among six or seven hundred of the most beautiful women in the world, to make his choice. The only fault I find in this collection is that there were rather too many Scripture pieces, Crucifixions, Martyrdoms and allegorical pictures, and too few from historical or mythological subjects. Yet perhaps I am wrong in classing the Scripture pieces with Martyrdoms, Crucifixions, Grillings of Saints and Madonnas; there are very many beautiful episodes in the Scriptures which would furnish admirable subjects for painters. Why then have they chosen disgusting subjects such as Judith sawing off Holofernes' head, Siserah's head nailed to the bedpost, John the Baptist's on a trencher, etc.? But the pictures representing Martyrdoms are too revolting to the eye and should not be placed in this Museum.

It is reported that the Allies mean to strip this Museum [of sculpture and painting]. No! it cannot be, they never surely can be guilty of such an act of Vandalism and contemptible spite. I am aware that there is a great clamour amongst a certain description of English for restoring these statues and pictures to the countries from whence they came, and that it is the fashion to term the translation of them to Paris a revolutionary robbery; but let us bring these gentlemen to a calm reasoning on the subject.

The statues and paintings in question belonged either to Governments at war with France, or to individuals inhabiting those countries; now, with respect to individuals, I will venture to affirm, on the best authority, that the property of no individual was taken from him without an equivalent. Those who had statues and pictures of value and wished to sell them, received their full value from the French Government, but there was no force used on the occasion; in fact, many who were in want of money were rejoiced at the opportunity of selling, as they could never have otherwise disposed of those valuable articles to individuals at the same price that the French Government gave. I recollect a day or two ago being in conversation with a Milanese on this subject and others connected with the occupation of Italy by the French. I happened to mention that the conquest of Italy by the Republican armies must have been attended with confiscation of property; he assured me that no such thing as confiscation of property took place; that so far from being the losers by the French invasion and the establishment of their system, they had on the contrary been considerable gainers, for that the country flourished under their domination in a manner before unknown, and that one of the greatest advantages attendant on the occupation was the establishment of an equality of weight and measures, the decimal division of the coin, the introduction of an admirable code of laws free'd from all barbarisms—legal, political and theological—and intelligible to all classes, so that there was no occasion to cite old authors and go back for three or four hundred years to hunt out authorities and precedents for what men of sense could determine at once by following the dictates of their own judgment.

With respect to the statues and pictures belonging to the different governments of Italy, it must never be forgotten that these governments made war against the French Revolution either openly or insidiously, and did their utmost to aid the coalition to crush the infant liberties of France. Those who did not act openly did so covertly and indirectly; in short, from their tergiversations and intrigues, they had no claim whatever on the mercy of the conquerors, who treated them with a great deal of clemency. The destruction of these governments was loudly called for by the people themselves, who looked on the French as their deliverers.

It will be admitted, I believe, that it is and has been the custom on the continent, in all wars, for all parties to levy war contributions on the conquered or occupied countries; but Buonoparte thought it more glorious for the French name to take works of art instead of money; and not a statue or picture was taken from the vanquished governments except by a solemn treaty of cession, or given in lieu of contributions at the option of the owners, and the Princes were very glad to give up their pictures and statues, which the most of them did not know how to appreciate, in lieu of money which they were all anxious to keep; and on these articles a fair value was fixed by competent judges. In this manner did the French become the possessors of these valuable objects of art, and in this manner was the noble Museum in Paris filled up, and surely nothing could be more generous and liberal than the use made of the Museum by the French Government; foreigners were indeed more favoured than the inhabitants themselves. To the inhabitants of Paris this Museum is open twice a week; but to foreigners on producing their passports, it is open every day in the week all the year round; artists of all nations are allowed, during a certain number of hours each day, to come to copy the statues and pictures which suit their taste; and stoves are lighted for their accommodation during winter, and all this gratis.—Now, before these objects of art were collected here, they were distributed, some in churches, and some in Government palaces. To see the first, required a specific introduction to the owner; to see the second, application to the attendants of the churches became necessary, and for both these you were required to pay fees to the servants and church-attendants, who are always impatient to take your fee and hurry you through the apartments or chapels, scarcely giving you time to examine anything. To be admitted into the Government palaces was a matter of favour, and here also fees were required.[32] Here in the Louvre there is no introduction required; no court to be paid to major-domos, no favour; it is open to all classes, high and low, without exception, and no money is allowed to be given.

But there are some people, in their ridiculous fury against the French Revolution, who would fain persuade us that before that epoch there was a golden age on the earth, that there were no acts of violence committed, no frauds practised, no property injured, no individuals ill-used; that every Prince governed like Numa; that every noble was a Bayard, and every priest like a primitive apostle. Why I need go no further than the Seven Years' war to show that in that war, during the height of European civilisation, and carried on between the most polished nations in Europe, there were much more acts of violence and rapine carried on than ever were done by the French republicans. I by no means wish to excuse or even palliate the acts of ferocity which took place at that epoch of the French Revolution called the reign of Terror, which were executed by a people wrought up to frenzy by a recollection of their wrongs; and I know too well that many virtuous individuals fell victims to their indiscriminating fury; but I do believe and aver that much more clamour was made at the execution of a handful of corrupt courtiers, intriguing and profligate women of quality and worthless priests, than all the rest put together.

To return to the Seven Years' war (I may be permitted to take this retrospect, I hope, since it is the fashion, and those who differ with me in opinions go much farther back than I do), let the French royalists and emigrants recollect the confiscation of property and barbarity exercised by Marshall Richelieu in Hanover, where many families were reduced to beggary. They may not chuse to recollect this; but the Hanoverians do and they have not forgotten the Pavillon de Hanovre, so called by the wits of the time from its having been built by the Marshall with money arising from the spoils of Hanover; will they recollect also the harsh treatment inflicted on the burghers and citizens of a town in Germany, who were shut up in a room and kept without food or drink for nearly three days because they would not consent to fix a heavy and unwarrantable contribution on their fellow citizens; when these unhappy but virtuous men were only allowed to go out for the necessities of nature attended by sentries, and on the third day, when fainting with hunger, a little bread and water was given to them, with an assurance that in future they were not to expect such luxuries. Have they forgot the devastation committed in Berlin by the Austrians in the Seven Years' war, when they pillaged, burned or destroyed all the valuable property of the royal Palaces, the most valuable works of art, vases, statues of antiquity, the loss of which could never be replaced; when they lopped off the heads, arms and legs of the statues? Have they forgot the conduct of the belligerent powers at the siege of Dresden at the same epoch, when whole families, among whom were helpless old men and women with children at the breast, were compelled to leave Dresden in the middle of a most rigorous winter and were driven to take refuge in the fields where the most of them perished with hunger and cold; and where many individuals lost their reason and became insane from the treatment they received? Have they forgotten the merciless barbarities inflicted by the Russians in the same war on the inhabitants of the Prussian territory? their ripping up and burning men, women, and children? and the dreadful retaliation inflicted on them at the battle of Zorndorff, when the Prussians, exasperated at the idea of those horrors so fresh in their memory, on being ordered to bury the Russian dead, threw the wounded men also belonging to that nation into the graves dug for the dead, to be thus buried alive, and hastily filled them up with earth, as if fearful that they might relent, did they give themselves time for reflection? These are not exaggerations; they are given by an author celebrated for his impartiality and deep research and who was an eye-witness of many of these proceedings; I mean Archenholz in his admirable history of the Seven Years' war.[33]

Then again in the war of American Independence (and here my countrymen must excuse me if I point out the acts of injustice committed by them, when acting in obedience to an unprincipled and arbitrary government and in a cause hostile to freedom), who does not recollect the private property wantonly destroyed and confiscated by the English? their employing the Indian tribes, those merciless savages of the forest, to scalp, etc., which called forth the indignation of a Chatham? and the grossly unjust pillage and confiscation of property which took place at St Eustatius by the commanders of a religious and gracious King?[34] Again, who does not recollect the gentle but deep reproof given by the American General Schuyler to the English General Burgoyne, when the latter was made prisoner by the Americans under Gates? General Schuyler's valuable house, barns, etc., had been burned by the express order of Burgoyne. Nevertheless, Schuyler received him with dignified politeness, magnanimously stifled the recollection of the injury he had received, and obtained for him a good quarter, merely remarking, "General, had my house and farms not been burned, I could have offered you a more comfortable abode." How Burgoyne must have felt this reproof! yet he was not by nature a harsh man, but he had the orders of his government to exercise severities; he was educated in Tory principles, and passive obedience is their motto.

Can one forget likewise even, in the late war, Nelson's conduct to Caraccioli at Naples, whom he caused to be hanged on board of an English ship of war, together with a number of other patriots, in violation of a solemn capitulation, by which it had been stipulated that they should be considered as prisoners of war and sent to France? Then again the wanton destruction of the Capitol and other public buildings at Washington not devoted to military purposes, which it is not usual to destroy or deface; and the valuable public library too which was burned? What excuse can be offered for this? Were the times of Omar returned? It is fair and allowed by the laws of war to blow up and destroy arsenals, magazines, containing warlike stores and engines of destruction, but to destroy with Gothic barbarity buildings of great symmetry and beauty, and a library too—O fie!

Why I will defy any man to point out a single instance where the French republican armies or Napoleon ever injured or wantonly destroyed a single national edifice, a single work of art, a single book belonging to any other country! On the contrary, they invariably extended their protection to the Arts and Sciences. Why at Vienna, where there is, I understand, a most splendid museum, and many most valuable works of art and antiquity, tho' this city fell twice into their possession, they never destroyed or took away a single article; but, on the contrary, there, as well as in Berlin, they invited the inhabitants to form a civic guard for the protection of their property. As to the Vandalism shewn during the reign of Terror, and I by no means seek to palliate it, that was of short duration, it was madness, if you will, but it was disinterested—and other nations who talk a great deal about their superior morality would do well to look at home. They would there observe, in their own historic page, that the atrocities of the French Revolution have not only been equalled but surpassed perhaps by more dreadful scenes committed at Wexford in 1798, under the auspices of the Government then ruling Ireland and which the noble and virtuous ——[35] disdained to serve.

Excuse this long digression, but I feel it my duty to open the eyes of my countrymen and prevent them from supporting on all occasions the unjust acts of their Government, which reflect dishonour on a great and enlightened nation; which can boast, among its annals, of some of the most heroic, splendid, and disinterested characters that ever the world produced.

All that I need add on the subject of the statues and pictures is, that putting out of the question the justice or injustice of the restitution, it will be a great loss to England and to English artists in particular, should they be removed: many an artist can afford to make a trip to Paris, who would find it beyond his means to make a journey to Florence or Rome.

If these objects of art are to be taken away, it should be stipulated so in the treaty of peace; and then everybody would understand it. This would be putting it on the fairest footing. You then say to France: "You gained these things by conquest; you lose them by defeat"; but for God's sake let us have no more of that cant about revolutionary robberies!

PARIS, ——

I went for the first time to the Grand Opera, or, as it is here called, the Academie Royale de Musique, which is in the Rue de Richelieu. Armida was the piece performed, the music by Glueck. The decorations were splendid and the dancing beyond all praise. The scenes representing the garden of Armida and the nymphs dancing fully expressed in the mimic art those beautiful lines of Tasso:

Cogliam d'amor la rosa! amiamo or, quando Esser si puote riamato amando![36]

The effect of the dissolution of the palace and gardens by the waving of Armida's wand is astonishing; it appears completely to be the work of inchantment, from the rapidity of execution which follows the potentissime parole. The French recitative however does not please me. The serious opera is an exotic and does not seem to thrive on the soil of France. The language does not possess sufficient intonation to give effect to the recitative.

On the contrary, the comic operas are excellent; and here the national music and singing appear to great advantage. It never degenerates to the grotesque or absurd buffo of the Italians, but is always exquisitely graceful, simple, touching and natural.

Among the ballets, I have seen perhaps three of the best, viz., Achille a Scyros, Flore et Zephire and La folle par amour. In the ballet of Flore and Zephire, the dancers who did these two parts appeared more aerian than earthly. To use a phrase of Burke's, I never beheld so beautiful a vision. Nina, or la folle par amour, is a ballet from private life. The title sufficiently explains its purport; it is exquisitely touching and pathetic. O what a divine creature is Bigottini! what symmetry of form! what innate grace, what a captivating expression of countenance; and then the manner in which she did the mad scenes and her return to reason! Oh! I was moved even to tears. Never had any performance such an effect upon me. What a magnificent tout ensemble is the Grand Opera at Paris! Whenever I feel chagrined or melancholy I shall come here; I feel as if I were in a new world; the fiction appears reality; my senses are ravished, and I forget all my cares.

I have very little pleasure in visiting royal Palaces, unless they have been the residence of some transcendent, person like Napoleon or Frederick II of Prussia, as the sight of splendid furniture and royal pomp affords me no gratification; and I would rather visit Washington's or Lafayette's farms in company with these distinguished men than dine with all the monarchs of Europe. After a hasty glance at the furniture of the Tuileries, what fixed my attention for a considerable time was "La Salle des Marechaux," where are the portraits of all the modern French Marshalls. They are all full length portraits and are striking resemblances; some are in the Marshall's undress uniform and others in the full court costume which is very elegant, being the costume of the time of Francis I with the Spanish hat and plumes. I did not observe Ney's or Soult's portraits among them.

In front of the great square of the Tuileries where the troops exercise, stands the Arch of Triumph erected by Napoleon, commonly called l'Arc du Carrousel. It is a beautiful piece of architecture, but is far too small to tally with such a vast mass of buildings as the Palace and offices of the Tuileries. By the side of them it appears almost Lilliputian. It would have been better to have made it in the style of the triumphal arch of the Porte St Denis. On this arc of the Carrousel are bas-reliefs both outside and inside, representing various actions of Napoleon's life. He is always represented in the Roman costume, with the imperial laurel on his brows, with kings kneeling, and presenting the keys of conquered cities. On the outside are statues, large as life, in modern military costume, representing the different armes which compose the French army.[37] On the top of this Arc du Carrousel is an antique car of triumph, to which are harnessed the four bronze horses which were taken from the facade of the Church of San Marco in Venice. They are of beautiful workmanship and of great antiquity. What various and mighty revolutions have these horses witnessed! Cast in Corinth in the time of the glories of the Grecian commonwealths and removed by conquest to Rome, they witnessed the successive fall of the Grecian and Roman states; transferred to Constantinople in the time of Constantine, and from thence removed to Venice when Constantinople fell into the hands of the French and Venetians; transferred from thence to Paris in 1798, they have witnessed the successive falls of the Eastern and Western Empires, of the Republic of Venice and the Napoleonic dynasty and Empire. Report says they are to be restored to Venice; and who knows whether they may not be destined one day to return to their original country, Greece, under perhaps Russian auspices?

The Gardens of the Tuileries which lie at the back part of the palace are very spacious, well laid out in walks and lined with trees. Large basins inlaid with stone, fountains and statues add to the grandeur of these gardens; they extend from the Tuileries as far as the Place Louis XV parallel to the Seine, and are separated by a wall and parapet and a beautiful cast iron railing from the Quai, and on the other side from the Rue de Rivoli, one of the new streets, and the best in Paris for pedestrians. On the side opposite the palace itself is the Place Louis XV, called in the time of the republic Place de la Revolution, and where the unfortunate Louis XVI suffered decapitation. The Place Louis XV is by far the most magnificent thing of the kind I have ever seen and far exceeds the handsomest of our squares in London. On one side of it is the Hotel du Garde Meuble, a superb edifice. On the other the Quai, the river; and on the other side of the river is the Palais du Corps legislatif, now the place where the Chamber of Deputies hold their sitting, and which has a magnificent facade. In front of this place are the Champs Elysees and avenue of Neuilly and behind the gardens and palace of the Tuileries.

My next visit was to the Place Vendome, where stands the majestic column of the Grand Army. To me this column is the most striking thing of its kind that I have hitherto seen. It is of bronze and of the most beautiful workmanship, cast from the cannon taken from the Austrians in the war of 1805, and on it are figured in bas-relief the various battles and achievements, winding round and round from the base to the capital. It is constructed after the model of the Column of Trajan in Rome.

The next place I visited was the Chamber of Deputies. It is a fine building with a Doric facade and columns; it is peculiarly striking from its noble simplicity. On the facade are bas-reliefs representing actions in Napoleon's life. The flight of steps leading to the facade is very grand, and there are colossal figures representing Prudence, Justice, Fortitude and other legislative virtues. The Chamber itself where the Deputies hold their sittings is in the form of a Greek theatre; the arch of the semi-circle forms the gallery appropriated to the audience, and comprehends in its enclosure the seats of the deputies like the seats in a Greek theatre; on the chord of the semi-circle where the proscenium should be, is the tribune and President's seat. The whole is exceedingly elegant. The Orator whose turn it is to speak leaves his seat, ascends the tribune and faces the Deputies. The anti-rooms adjoining this Chamber are fitted up with long tables and fauteuils and are appropriated to the sittings of the various committees. These antichambers are hung round with pictures representing the victories of the French armies; but they are covered with green baize and carefully concealed from the public eye in order to stifle recollections and prevent comparisons.

PARIS, August.

I mounted on horseback and rode out to St Cloud to breakfast, passing through the Champs Elysees, the Bois de Boulogne and the little town of Passy, and returned by the Quai, as far as the bridge of Jena, which I passed and went to visit the Hotel des Invalides, le Champ de Mars, the Pantheon or Church of St Genevieve and the Palace of the Luxembourg. This was pretty good work for one day; and as you will expect some little account of my ideas thereon, I shall give you a precis of what most interested me.

In the Champs Elysees are quartered several English regiments who are encamped there, and this adds to the liveliness of the scene; our soldiers seem to enjoy themselves very much. They are in the midst of places of recreation of all kinds, such as guinguettes, tennis-courts, dancing salons and cafes, and besides these (places of Elysium for English soldiers), wine and brandy shops innumerable; our soldiers seem to agree very well with the inhabitants. In the Bois de Boulogne are Hanoverian troops as well as English. At Passy I stopped at the house occupied by my friend, Major C. of the 33rd Regt.,[38] who was to accompany me to St Cloud. St Cloud is an exceedingly neat pretty town, well and solidly built, and tolerably large. There are a great many good restaurants and cafes, as St Cloud with its Palace, promenades and gardens forms one of the most favourite resorts of the Parisians on Sundays and jours de fete. Diners de societe and noces et festins are often made here; and there is both land and water conveyance during the whole day. There are two roads by land from Paris: the one on the Quai the whole way; the other through the Bois de Boulogne and Champs Elysees. The gardens of St Cloud are laid out something in the style of a jardin anglais, but mixed with the regular old fashioned garden; it abounds in lofty trees, beautiful sites and well arranged vistas commanding extensive views of Paris and the country environing. St Cloud was the favourite residence of Napoleon; and the furniture in the palace here shows him to be a man of the most refined taste. All is elegant and classic; there is nothing superfluous; the furniture is modern, but in strict imitation of the furniture of the ancients and chiefly in bronze. There are superb vases and candelabras in marble, magnificent clocks of various kinds, marble busts, and busts in bronze of great men, and bronze statues large as life holding lamps. The chairs and sofas too are in a classic taste, as are the beds and baths. We were informed here that Blucher, who passed one night here, tore with his spur the satin covering of one of the sofas and that he did it wilfully; but I never can believe that the old man would be so silly, and I rather think that this story is an invention of the keeper of the Palace, or that if it was done, it was done by an accident merely. But the fact is that Blucher has a contempt for and hates the Parisians and likes to mortify them on all occasions; he threatens to do a number of things which he never seriously intends, merely for the sake of teasing them; and it must be owned that they deserve a little contempt from the want of caractere they showed on the entrance of the Allies. Be it as it may, Blucher is the bete noire of the Parisians and they are as much afraid of him as the children are of Monsieur Croque-mitaine.

We returned from St Cloud by the Quai, crossed the bridge of Jena, galloped along the Champs de Mars, took a hasty glance at the Hotel des Invalides, a magnificent edifice and which may be distinguished from all other buildings by its gilded cupola. It is a superb establishment in every respect, and is furnished with an excellent library. A great many old soldiers are to be seen in this library occupied in reading; they are very polite to all visitors, particularly to ladies. Nothing can better demonstrate the superior character, intelligence and deportment of the French soldiers over those of all other countries than the way in which they employ their time in literary pursuits, their dignified politeness to visitors and the intelligent answers they give to questions. I am afraid our British veterans, brave as they are in the field, occupy themselves, when laid up as invalids, more in destroying their bodies by spirituous liquors than in improving their minds by reading. The Chapel of this establishment where were displayed the banners and trophies taken at different epochs from the enemies of France, and which were much mutilated by the wars since the Revolution, is now stripped of all the ensigns of glory. They were all burned by the French themselves previous to the capitulation of Paris in 1814, in order to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy. An old soldier who was my guide related this with tears in his eyes, but suddenly checking himself said: "Mais telle est l'histoire."

The only things now in this Chapel that interest the eye of the traveller are the monuments of Vauban and Turenne. Of the rest nought remains but the brilliant souvenirs.

Fuit Ilium, et ingens Gloria Teucrorum!...[39]

I had a great deal of difficulty in inducing this old soldier to accept of three franks; I told him at last that, as he did not want it himself, to take it and give it to somebody that did. I then visited the rest of the establishment. There is a whole range of rooms which contains models or plans in relief of all the fortresses of France; they are admirably and most minutely executed; not only the fortifications and public buildings, but the private houses, the gardens, orchards, meadows, mountains, hill and dale, bridges, trees, every feature of the ground in fine and of the surrounding country are given in miniature. In fact it gives you the same idea of the places themselves and of the environing country as if you were held up in the air over them to inspect them; or as if you viewed them from a balloon at the distance of 800 yards from the earth. The models of Strassburg, Lille and three or four others have been taken away by the Austrians and Prussians, but I have seen those of Calais, Dunkirk, Villefranche, Toulon, and Brest, and in fact almost every other French fortress. This is one of the most interesting sights in Paris, and for this we are certainly indebted to the occupation; for I question much if travellers were ever permitted to see these models until Paris fell into the hands of the Allies. Prussian sentries do duty at the doors; how grating this must be to the old invalids! Among the models I must not omit to mention a very curious one which represents the battle of Lodi. The town of Lodi, the bridge and river are admirably executed. The soldiers are represented by little figures about a quarter of an inch in height and cobwebs are disposed so as to represent the smoke of the firearms, Buonaparte and his staff are on horseback on one side of the bridge. There is also a very fine model of the Hotel des Invalides itself.

From hence we went to the garden and palace of the Luxembourg. These gardens form the midday and afternoon promenade of that part of the city. In one wing of the Palace is the Chamber of Peers, elegantly fitted up and in some respect resembling a Greek theatre. The busts of Cicero, Brutus, Demosthenes, Phocion and other great men of antiquity adorn the niches of this chamber and on the grand escalier are the statues in natural size of Kleber, Dessaix, Caffarelli and other French generals. Report says that these statues will be removed.

In the picture gallery at the Luxembourg is a choice collection of pictures of the modern French school such as Guerin, David, etc. The subjects are extremely well chosen, being taken from the mythology or from ancient and modern history. I was too glad to find no crucifixions, martyrdoms, nor eternal Madonnas. I distinguished in particular the Judgment of Brutus and the Serment des Horaces et des Curiaces. Connoisseurs find the attitudes too stiff and talk to you of the Italian school; but I prefer these; yet I had better hold my tongue on this subject, for I am told I know nothing about painting.

Poor Labedoyere[40] is sentenced to be shot by the Court Martial which tried him, and the sentence will be carried immediately into execution. His fate excites universal sympathy, and I have seen many people shed tears when talking on this subject. He certainly ought to be protected by the 12th Article of the Capitulation. The French are very uneasy; the Allies have begun to strip the Louvre and there is no talk of what the terms of peace are to be, or what is the determination of the Allies. This is a dreadful state of uncertainty for the French people and may lead to a general insurrection. The Allies continue pouring troops into France and levying contributions. "Vae victis" seems their motto. France is now a disarmed nation, and no French uniform is to be seen except that of the National Guard and the "Garde Royale." France is at the mercy of her enemies and prostrate at their feet; a melancholy prospect for European liberty!

The Allies have parades and reviews two or three times a week and the Sovereigns of Russia, Austria and Prussia constantly attend; Wellington is their showman. These crowned Heads like mightily playing at soldiers; I should think His Grace must be heartily tired of them. Massacres and persecutions of the Protestants have begun to take place in the South of France, and the priests are at work again threatening with excommunication and hell the purchasers and inheritors of emigrant estates and church lands. These priests and emigrants are incorrigible. Frequent quarrels take place almost every evening in the Palais Royal between the Prussian officers and the French, particularly some of the officers from the army of the Loire. I rather suspect these latter are the aggressors. The Prussians being gorged with plunder come there to eat, drink and amuse themselves and have as little stomach for fighting as the soldier of Lucullus had after having enriched himself; but the officers of the army of the Loire are, poor fellows, in a very different predicament; they have not even been paid what is due to them, and they, having none of those nice felicities (to use an expression of Charlotte Smith's)[41] which make life agreeable, are ready for any combat, to set their life on any cast, "to mend it, or to be rid of 't." The Prussians indulge in every sort of dissipation, which they are enabled to do by the plunder which they have accumulated, and of which they have formed, I understand, a depot at St Germain. They send these articles of plunder to town every day to be sold, and then divide the profits, which are sure to be spent in the Palais Royal, and other places of revel and debauchery.

They sometimes affect a fastidiousness of stomach which is quite laughable, and not at all peculiar to the Germans, who are in general blessed by nature with especial good appetites; and they spend so much money that the English officers who have not had the advantages of plunder that these Prussians have had must appear by the side of them stingy and niggardly.

I was witness one day to a whimsical scene, which will serve to give you an idea of the airs of importance these gentlemen give themselves. I was one day at Versailles and after having visited the palace and gardens I entered the Salon of a restaurateur and called for a veal cutlet and vin ordinaire. There was a fat Prussian Major with two or three of his companions at one of the tables, who had been making copious libations to Bacchus in Burgundy and Champaign. He heard me call for vin ordinaire, and whether it was to show his own magnificence I know not, but he called out to the cafetiere: "Madame, votre vin ordinaire est il buvable? car j'en veux donner a mon trompette, et s'il n'est pas bon, il n'en boira pas. Faites venir mon trompette." Now I dare say in his own country this Major would not have disdained even the "schwarze Bier" of Brandenburgh.

Scarcely any quarrels, I believe, take place between the English and French, nor did I hear of any violent fracas but one. In this instance, the English officers concerned must have been sad, brutal, vulgar fellows. They, however, after behaving in a most gross insulting manner, were compelled by some Frenchmen not to eat but to drink their words, and that out of a vessel not usually employed in drinking. I shall not repeat the contemptible affair, but it furnished the subject of a caricature.

The English officers in general behave in a handsome and liberal manner, and their conduct was spoken of in high terms of encomium by very many of the French themselves. I regret however exceedingly that any of the British officers should have imbibed the low prejudices and vulgar hatred against the French, which certain people preach up in England to cover their own peculations and interested views. A young friend of mine, with whom I was one day talking on political subjects, said to me: "I cannot help agreeing with you in many things, but I am staggered when I think that your ideas and reasoning are so contrary to the ideas in which I have been brought up; so that I rather avoid entering at all on political questions."

I do not wonder at all at this, for I recollect when I was at school at Eton, the system was to drill into the heads of the boys strong aristocratic principles and hatred of Democracy and of the French in particular; we were ordered to write themes against the French Revolution and verses of triumph over their defeats, with now and then a sly theme on the great advantage of hereditary nobility; in these verses God Almighty was to be represented as closely allied to the British Government and a sleeping partner of the Administration. One of the fellows of Eton College actually told the late Mr Adam Walker, the celebrated lecturer on natural and experimental philosophy, who was accustomed to give lectures annually to the Etonians, that his visits were no longer agreeable and would be dispensed with in future; as "Philosophy had done a great deal of harm and had caused the French Revolution."

With respect to my visit to Versailles, I was much struck with the vast size and magnificence of the buildings and with the ingenuity displayed in the arrangement of the grounds and the numerous groups of statues, grottos, aqueducts, fountains and ruins. Still it pleases me less than St Cloud, for I prefer the taste of the present day in gardening and the arrangement of ground, to the ponderous and tawdry taste of the time of Louis XIV, and I prefer St Cloud to Versailles, just as I should prefer a Grecian Nymph in the simple costume of Arcadia to a fine court lady rouged and dressed out with hoops, diamonds, and headdress of the tune of Queen Anne. Napoleon must have had an exquisite taste.

[32] Exceptions to this are, I understand, the Gallery at Florence, and the Museo Vaticano at Rome, which are both open to all and no fees allowed.

[33] Johann Wilhelm Archenholz (1743-1812), author of the Geschichte des Siebenjaehrigen Krieges, 1789.—ED.

[34] In February, 1781, before the declaration of war was generally known in the West Indies, Rodney's fleet surrounded the Dutch island of Eustatius, which had become a sort of entrepot for supplying America with British goods; two hundred and fifty ships, together with several millions worth of merchandise, were seized and sold at a military auction. The plunder of Eustatius was bitterly commented upon In the British House of Commons.—Lee Richard Hildreth, The History of the United States, vol. III, p. 335.—ED.

[35] The name is in blank. Major Frye may have meant Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey (1762-1798), the squire of Wexford who deserted to the Irish rebels.—ED.

[36] Tasso, Jerusalemme liberata, canto XVI, ottava 15.—ED.

[37] For instance, a Cuirassier, a Dragoon, a Grenadier, a Tirailleur, an Artilleryman.

[38] Major G. Colclough, senior major of the 33rd Regt.—ED.

[39] Virgil, Aen., II. 325.—ED.

[40] La Bedoyere (Charles Huchet, Comte de) distinguished himself in several of the Napoleonic wars, in particular at Ratisbonne and Borodino. Being a colonel at Grenoble, in March, 1815, he deserted to Napoleon's cause and was nominated by him general and pair de France. In July, 1815, he was arrested in Paris, tried for high treason and shot, August 19, in spite of Benj. Constant's efforts to save him.—ED.

[41] Charlotte Smith (1749-1806), author of Emmeline, or the Orphan of the Castle (1788), Celestina (1792), The Old Manor House (1793), etc.—ED.



CHAPTER IV

From Paris to Bruxelles—Visiting the plains of Waterloo—The Duke de Berri at Lille—Beauvais—Return to Paris—Remarks on the French theatre— Talma—Mlle Duchesnois—Mlle Georges-French alexandrine verse—The Abbe Delille—The Opera Comique.

I met with my brother-in-law and his nephew at Paris, and hearing from them that they had an intention of returning to England by the way of Bruxelles, with the idea of visiting the plains of Waterloo, I was induced to accompany them. We started on the 18th August, taking the exact route from Paris that was taken by Napoleon. Passed the first night at St Quentin; the second at a small village on the line between Mons and Charleroy in the Belgian territory. The next morning, after breakfasting at Nivelles, we proceeded to Quatre Bras and Mont St Jean. At the little cabaret called a la belle Alliance we met a host of Englishmen who had been to behold the field of battle; Lacoste, the peasant who was Napoleon's guide on the day of battle, was about to conduct them across the fields to Hougoumont. We followed them. The devastation of the place, every tree being pierced with bullets, and the whole premises being nearly burned to the ground, seemed to astonish their weak minds; one of them was not contented till he had measured the length and breadth of the garden and orchards.

Cuirasses, helmets, swords and various other spoils of war found on the spot, were offered for sale by some boys and eagerly bought up as relics. My brother-in-law made a purchase of a helmet, sword and cuirass, intending to hang it up in his hall. For my part I have seen, and can see no reason whatever to rejoice at this event. I fear it is pregnant with infinite mischief.

We arrived at Bruxelles on the afternoon of the 20th August and after visiting thePark, Alee verte and Palace of Laeken, we proceeded the next morning on our journey to Lille.

The Duke of Berri was at Lille and a grand fete was given in the evening to celebrate the second restoration of the Bourbons. Fireworks were let off, the city was brilliantly illuminated and boys (hired of course) went about the streets singing the following refrain

A bas, a bas Napoleon! Vivent, vivent les Bourbons!

A number of beautiful women elegantly attired paraded up and down the public promenades, which are exceedingly well and tastefully laid out. This city is built with great regularity, and the streets are broad, neat, and clean. It is by far the handsomest city I have ever seen either in France or Belgium. The Hotel de Ville and the theatre both are on the Grande Place and are well worth seeing. Lille is renowned for its fortifications; I much wished to visit the citadel but I was not permitted. At dinner at the table d'hote at the Hotel du Commerce, I remarked a French officer declaiming violently against Napoleon; but I heard afterwards that he was the son of an Emigrant; the rest of the company did not seem to approve his discourse and shewed visible impatience at it.

Lille may be easily recognised at its approach from the immense quantity of wind-mills that are in the vicinity of this city, some of which are used for grinding of wheat and others for the expression of oil. A great deal of flax from whence the oil is made, grows in the country.

I left Lille on the morning of the 24th inst., with the courier for Amiens. From Amiens I took the diligence to Beauvais and on arrival there I put up under the hospitable roof of my friend Major G., of the 18th Light Dragoons, lately made Lt.-Colonel for his gallantry at Waterloo.[42] I did not want for amusement here, for the next day a fete champetre was given just outside the walls of the town, and I admired the grace and tournure of the female peasantry and their good dancing. How much more creditable are these innocent and agreeable fetes to the fairs and meetings in England, which are generally signalized in drunkenness! The next afternoon presented a novel sight to the inhabitants of Beauvais, it being a grand cricket match played between the officers of the 10th and 18th Dragoons. It was won by the latter, mainly owing to the superior play of Colonel G. of the 18th, who never touched a bat since he was at Burney's school. The Officers afterwards dined al fresco and many toasts accompanied by the huzzas were given, to the astonishment of the bystanders, who seemed to consider us as little better than barbarians. One of the officers wishing to pay a compliment to the inhabitants of Beauvais proposed the health of Louis XVIII, but they seemed to take it coldly and not at all to be flattered by the compliment.

After five days very agreeable residence at Beauvais, I put myself in the diligence to return to Paris. During the journey an ardent political altercation arose between a young lady, who appeared to be a warm partisan of Napoleon, on the one side, and a Garde du Corps on the other. The lady was seconded by a young gentleman, of whom it was difficult to say, whether he sustained her argument from a dislike to the present order of things, or from a wish to ingratiate himself in her favour. The argument of the Garde du Corps was espoused, but soberly, by one of the passengers who was a mathematical professor at one of the Lyceums; he was not by any means an Ultra, but he supported the Bourbons, with moderate, gentlemanly and I therefore believe sincere attachment. This professor seemed a well informed sort of man; he told me that he was acquainted with Sir James M., formerly recorder at Bombay. On our arrival at the Bureau des Messageries, the whole company forgot their disputes and parted good friends; and the young man who was partisan of the young lady in the political dispute took care to inform himself of her abode in Paris.