CHAPTER XXVII.
Toulouse—Its Churches—Protestant Service—Libraries—Reception of the Duke d’Angoulême—The French Generals—Popularity of Wellington.Head-quarters, Toulouse,April 27, 1814.
Toulouse—Its Churches—Protestant Service—Libraries—Reception of the Duke d’Angoulême—The French Generals—Popularity of Wellington.
Head-quarters, Toulouse,April 27, 1814.
My dear M——,
ThoughI have nothing now to amuse you with, but the result of my morning walks and inquiries in this town, I shall proceed as usual, more with a wish to preserve my own crude observations, than hoping to interest you much by the perusal.
My last was finished on Saturday. On Sunday, about half-past eleven, I attended the service at the Protestant chapel, established under the sanction and patronage of Bonaparte, as a sort of church-wardenish gold-lettered record informed me. The service began with a prayer by the clerk; he then gave out a psalm, more noisy than musical, and without the accompaniment of the organ. I was astonished that such a small congregation could make so much noise and discord. One greasy-headed, methodistical-looking man, near me, continued in an unceasing roar, bearing much more resemblance to a well-known noise with which our mules so frequently indulge us, than any known harmony. A short prayer, and a long chapter from the New Testament, with the Commentary, as printed in the book, was then delivered from the pulpit or reading-desk (for there was but one)by a clergyman, who then entered. Another psalm ensued. The organ then played to introduce a young preacher, who took the reader’s place, and gave us a prayer and the Ten Commandments, and another psalm, partly to the organ; but before half a stave was finished, the organist found that his notes and the vocal ones were so different, that he ceased playing, and though he made two or three attempts at a single note afterwards, he found it would not do, and gave it up.
The young preacher then read a text from the Bible, and gave us a very good extempore discourse about half-an-hour long. The subject was the vanity of this world, and the danger of temptation and evil communication. The language and delivery were clear and distinct; there was no rant, but much propriety of manner. A psalm followed, and the organ was not so much distanced; then the Lord’s Prayer and Belief, and a prayer for all descriptions of persons and denominations, like that of our own Church praying for dignitaries, &c. And then another psalm, at last, in tolerable harmony, but very noisy. A blessing concluded the whole.
At first there were only about forty-five persons; some half-dozen old gentlemen were in the seats near the altar. These had backs. About twenty-five women were in the right-hand seats; and about fifteen men in the left. The side-seats were chairs placed in rows, and all fastened to each other. In the course of the service, the numbers increased to about sixty or seventy. The congregation appeared to be nearly all of the middling class of tradesmen; only about three of our poor men took their allotted seats, quite at the back. As no one ever knelt down, there was no occasion for either room or cushions for that purpose. The men sat with their hats occasionally on and off, and legs crossed, at their ease, in the style of the House of Commons; but were attentive to the sermon. The three poor men all fellasleep, snoring so loud that a sort of beadle was obliged to awaken them. I was not much surprised on the whole, comparing this scene with that in the Roman Catholic churches, that the proselytes amongst the highest and lowest classes were not not numerous. This service suits neither. It is most adapted to an independent tradesman, who thinks a little for himself, and can see the errors of the Catholics, and likes the economy of the chapel. It might be accident, but I saw scarcely any white cockades,—only one or two of the elder, and I suppose richer, members of the community wear them in their hats.
On Monday I looked into nearly all the churches, present andci-devant, of Toulouse. The cathedral of St. Etienne I have already mentioned. The next in size and consequence is St. Saturnin, or more commonly called St. Surnin. This is a curious building, in the dark heavy Saxon style (reminding one of the early attempts at Grecian revival, and the introduction of the Gothic), all circular except the angular main pillars of the centre of the cross, which were heavy octagons; the roof circular, and upper windows double circles. Except the pillars, nearly the whole is made of the flat tile or brick, which is curious. It was built in the present form about the year 1160 to 1190. There are monuments of the Earls of Toulouse, &c., of founders, and in a dark vaulted chapel under the grand altar are relics innumerable—of the thorns in the crown placed on the head of Christ; the heads of Barnabas, of Simon, and of Jude; parts of their bodies also; parts of Peter; besides bishops, &c.; the body and figure of Thomas Aquinas; and an English saint, a king, whose name I could not make out. We heard much of the riches with which all these relics were formerly surrounded. It is said that the revolutionists carried off four hundredweight of gold, besides silver. All the most valuable part, however, as the good Catholicsare bound to think, were fortunately spared, and still remain in excellent preservation, and tolerably fine with gilding.
The general effect of the building is gloomy and superstitious, and a strange unpleasant smell, which some say proceeds from large vaults underneath, which are filled with bodies which do not corrupt, makes one glad to get out of the building as soon as curiosity is satisfied. They do not bury their dead in the church now, and the vaults I mentioned are walled up. In the remaining churches now in use there is little worthy of notice, but there are two very largeci-devantconvent churches. That of the Jacobins is worthy of notice; one long building only, like King’s College Chapel (not a cross), and with one lofty row of circular pillars all down the centre. This forms as it were two equal main aisles, and no side aisles. On the sides are rows of chapels and a large cloister. Almost the whole is in brick, except the centre pillars. It is now regularly fitted up as cavalry barrack stables; and they are excellent, easily containing in the whole, I should think, about seven hundred horses. There is an octagon building adjoining, with a slender pillar, fitted up the same. Near this is another large, long, similar building, formerly a chapel, but without the centre pillars, and the scale of course somewhat smaller. This is the forage store for the cavalry barrack. We have them now both in use, as the French had. I must now go in my best to meet the Duke d’Angoulême.
Friday, the 26th.—About two o’clock on Wednesday the most interesting scene commenced since that of the first day of our entrance, and a more splendid one still. Lord Wellington, surrounded by about three hundred horsemen, composed of general officers, aides-de-camp, and staff officers of all descriptions, and of the four nations, Spanish, English, French and Portuguese, wentout to meet the Duke d’Angoulême, all in their best uniforms, on their best chargers, and covered with white cockades. The only French general of the opposing army who came in time for this was Clausel, and he was for some time side by side with Lord Wellington. When we had gone about six miles, and arrived at a sort of triumphal arch on a hill, the Duke appeared, escorted by a guard of our heavy dragoons and a double French guard of honour from Bordeaux and Toulouse. We drew up on each side, after the interview with Lord Wellington, to let them pass, and then all joined in the procession to the town.
The sides of the road were crowded with carriages and people, and the enthusiasm of the lower classes, and of the women in particular, was excessive. The Duke and Lord Wellington, after being joined by more guards of honour and more suite, as we approached the town, entered the street over the grand bridge, amidst the shouts and acclamations of a multitude crowding every window. The scene reminded me of the London streets at Lord Nelson’s funeral. From thetête de pont, which still in part exists, over the bridge, up to the cathedral through all the principal streets, was a double line of English troops, between which the procession passed. Several of the regiments had got their clothing, and they looked admirably, especially the Scotch 91st.
A sort of moveablegarde urbaine de l’infanterieon each side kept also with us all the way. White flags, exhibiting French ingenuity to the utmost, were hanging from every window. Sheets, table-cloths, towels, &c., covered with green paper fleurs-de-lys formed excellent standards, and paper flags were innumerable. The women, and some of the old men, were quite mad with joy, and screamed,Vive le Roi et vivent les Anglois!till they were stopped by absolute exhaustion, or some by tears of joy. Every house was hung with laurel mixedwith the white, and the lower story covered entirely with old tapestry, old carpets, or sheets, and paper fleurs-de-lys. In the morning this made the streets look something like Brokers’-alley certainly, but the effect, when mixed with the rest of the scene, was not bad.
After passing under another triumphal arch of table-cloths, laurel, fleurs-de-lys, &c., we reached the cathedral, and aTe Deumsucceeded. This was much like the last, only rather more in order, and the public bodies were more numerous and in their costume. The ten Judges and the President, in their red robes, like our aldermen, with small black-and-gold caps. The Judges de Premier Instance, in black Master-of-Arts gowns, with sky-blue sashes; the Avocats in black gowns alone; the professors of sciences and arts in their crimson-coloured Master-of-Arts gowns, and those of belles-lettres in orange; the Archbishop and clergy in full costume. The music was not very striking, but many of the old people cried with joy.
About six o’clock the Duke dined with Lord Wellington, and went to the play in the evening, where the acclamations were renewed with fresh vigour; the women in the streets caught hold of his coat to kiss it. Yesterday the Duke had agrande messe, and then a full-dress drawing-room—this in the morning. In the evening the great rooms of the Capitolium were opened again for music and dancing. The Duke came in there too soon, when scarcely five hundred people were arrived, but in another hour the crowd was immense. The dresses of the women were very splendid, and the variety of orders and uniforms made the scene very gay. General Villette was there, as well as Clausel, and a number of French officers. The Duke was just the same as at St. Jean de Luz, and remembered all his old acquaintance there, myself among the rest.
He not only gave me a gracious nod during the firstprocession, but surprised me by coming round behind the chairs of the ladies, where I was standing, in the music-room, and gave me his hand, and reminded me of King Joseph’s saddle-cloth, which I had given the Duke, and which was on his horse, as I observed, when he entered the town. His affability and good-nature are striking; but he must acquire more dignity and self-possession, as his figure is against him in appearance, and he seems shy; in short he must learn the trade of kingcraft, like any other, and a quiet rational man is just now the best king the French can have. The great rock to avoid is the probability of being misled by indiscreet emigrants.
I was, it must be confessed, rather at a loss what to say to the Duke, but when he talked of the saddle-cloth, I replied, that “Its only merit, which was as a trophy, now was at an end, as the family of the Bonapartes had ceased to be objects to triumph over.” This, and a lame congratulation on what had happened, completed my speech; as, however, it was as new to me to address royalty as it was to him to act it, I hope if occasion offers I may improve by practice as well as his Highness. One circumstance amused me much in all this scene: the good city of Toulouse covered its streets with sand, and made the air resound with cries, and every house had two paper lanterns in every window at night; and they were, in general, I am convinced, sincere in this, although one might have been induced to think otherwise from the acts of the authorities and public offices. A set ofgarde urbaineofficers (the new gens-d’armes) ran all the way at the head of the procession, prompting the cries, and setting them going all the way we went; and the illuminations were, by special order of the mayor, from the Bureau d’Illuminations, as usual in the time of Bonaparte’s system. My intended observation is this—the city loyalty vented itself in cries, inTe Deums, in music, and in farthing candles, and dancing, shouting, draperies, &c.,but the Royal Duke was placed in the Palais Royale (ci-devantPrefecture), and no provision made for his table or for his establishment or Bordeaux guard of honour, and our head-quarters’ Commissary was called upon to feed the animals, &c., of the guard and followers, and Lord Wellington to entertain the Prince and invite the principal citizens to meet him.
The old notion of the sign of the Four Alls—“John Bull pays for all,” seems to be as well known here as elsewhere in the world. There seems no principle now-a-days more generally diffused or adopted more readily in every quarter. Our rations are all procured, you must be aware, by requisitions, through the mayors of the country, &c., to be provided by the districts, and you would naturally think the same authority could provide for all French deserters, and for the Royal troops of guards and establishment; but then who would pay for all these requisitions? All we have is paid for; and it isbien plus commodeto come to our store ready collected than to form one for these purposes.
An odd incident occurred to me just before the procession on Wednesday. I was at Lord Wellington’s new hotel, the great inn, the Hotel de France, endeavouring to find his room, to leave a Court-martial, when I stumbled on my friend the Dutch aide-de-camp of General Clausel, who told me he was looking for one of our Marshal’s aides-de-camp in waiting to introduce his General, who was behind him, and who, on my turning round, recognized me, as he and his division took me prisoner. To their great surprise, I told them that there was no chance of finding an aide-de-camp, but perhaps we might find a serjeant, and I was on the search. It so happened that there was no one but an ignorant sentinel. In trying a door or two, we all blundered upon Lord Wellington, who came himself to the door; so I introduced the astonished Clausel, and walked off.
My Dutch friend told me that Soult and Suchet would have had about six aides-de-camp, &c., in the first room, and a general officer in waiting in the second. I own that I think our great man goes to the opposite extreme; but he does not like being watched and plagued. Just after the statelevéeyesterday, I saw him cross the crowded square in his blue coat and round hat, almost unnoticed and unknown even to the very people who half an hour before had been cheering him. In one angle of Lord Wellington’s hotel lives Madam C——, a Spanish beauty, married into a French family of rank, who are the proprietors of the hotel, but who have been obliged to let nearly the whole, reserving this angle. I do not mean to be scandalous; but this, perhaps, may have decided the choice of the house.
Lord Wellington to-day had intelligence that Marshal Suchet was on his way here, and has been with his staff about a dozen miles to meet him in form. The French Marshal, from some confusion, did not appear, and Lord Wellington would wait no longer, but returned alone. In our grand procession to meet the royal Duke on Wednesday a ridiculous accident happened. A French post carriage with three horses abreast ran away, and came full drive down upon us, the Frenchmen all bawling, the horses pulling all ways, and clearing all before them. Our three hundred warriors were all broken in an instant, and dispersed over the ditches, and in all directions, until at last one unfortunate horseman ran foul of the French horses, and the whole came down together. Fortunately nobody was materially hurt.
Saturday, Post-day.—As I returned home last night by the Palais Royal from dinner, I found every one going, without regular invitation, into the Palais Royal to the Prince, who held asoirée; so I entered likewise, and found him surrounded by dancing as usual, and by Marshals and Generals only to be outdone at Paris. Suchethad arrived with his staff. Colonel Canning, who was left behind for him, brought him in about two hours after Lord Wellington returned. General Lamarque and several other officers came with him, two Generals, as aides-de-camp, besides Colonels, &c. The Marshal himself was a strange figure. His head and cheeks and chin all overgrown with hair, like a wild man of the woods: and his dress more splendid than the drum-major of one of our Guards’ bands on a birthday.
The contrast had a singular effect. The uniform was blue, but almost concealed, and could have stood alone with gold embroidery. Every seam, edge, and button, before and behind, above and below, wasgallonéwith a sort of oak-leaf pattern about three inches wide, and on his breast were two gold and silver stars, as large as our Garter star, and several small orders of different kinds. He would have been rather a good-looking man if dressed in a more moderate style. Lord Wellington and several of his Generals, being in their plain uniforms, made the French General’s extravagance the more striking.
Soult’s aide-de-camp also came in, and a guard was ready, and an hotel for him, but he did not appear. Generals Lamarque, Clausel, Villette, and three or four more, and a number of embroideredPayeursandCommissaires Généraux,Préfêts, &c., increased the general glitter; but nothing looked better than our scarlet. The Prince and Suchet had much conversation, and seemed more easy and gay than I had seen the former before with any of his new friends.
Scarcely any Frenchman has worn the Spanish or Portuguese cockade; and amidst all the cries you never hear avivafor either Spaniards or Portuguese. They are in consequence very angry and sulky, and I think a little jealous of us. This you may well imagine, when you learn that they all along consider thattheyhave accomplished all that has happened, and that we have assisteda little certainly, but that they could have done without us. Except those about Lord Wellington, who do it more out of compliment to him, the Spaniards in general, and a great number of the Portuguese, will not in consequence wear the white cockade.
I see no harm in this, for as we fought a whole century to prevent the two kingdoms of France and Spain from being both under the Bourbons, it is quite as well now that it happens to be our interest to fight for the contrary doctrine, that there should be as little cordiality between them as possible. A Spanish soldier was told the other day in the street to cry “Vive le Roi! Vivent les Bourbons!” He made no answer. The request was repeated, and he was asked why he made a difficulty. He was still silent at first, but then rapped out a favourite Spanish oath, then “Viva Fernando VII.! Viva Lord Wellington!Los Espanoles care for nothing more;” and nothing more would he say.
It is remarkable enough, but the fact is that Lord Wellington is very popular with the common Spanish soldiers, I am told, and with the country people; but with the generality of officers, regimental in particular, and with the highest classes in Spain, it is rather the reverse.
It is curious now to see Lord Wellington play the second fiddle, having been so long established leader. It will serve to break him in by degrees for England and peace. He carries it off very well. Most of our Lieutenant-generals are gone to Paris, or going, and many other officers. I suppose it will be best for me to remain with the army to the last, or at least as long as Lord Wellington remains, and then go straight to London and report my arrival.
At the Capitolium on Thursday, young B——, with whom I was talking, as we were very hot and tired, persuaded me to sit down with him on the bottom step ofthe vacant throne. The Prince and all the grandees were then in another room, but we were soon routed up by thegarde urbainesentinel, to the mortification and vexation of my young honourable companion at not being allowed at Toulouse what he was entitled to in the House of Lords in England. He is well; and dancing away cotillions, waltzes, &c.
Later.—We have just had an arrival, and Lord Wellington quits this place for Paris immediately: I hope, however, that he will return shortly, as he now intends to do. We all here said that matters would never be well arranged at Paris without him, and that he would go at last.
Head-Quarters, Toulouse, May 2nd, 1814.—Having thanked you for your letter of the 12th of April, and papers to the same date, I must proceed on my old subject, Toulouse, and its sights and curiosities, regretting on your account, as well as my own, that they are not more interesting.
The great cannon-foundry here was formerly one of the most prominent, but it has now ceased to work for nearly three or four years. How or why this could happen, when military works and manufactures seemed alone to flourish in France during that period, I cannot say. The fact is, everything remains in a state as if the workmen were only all gone away to dinner, but in silent desolation, like a scene in Herculaneum, or Southey’s town under water. Unfinished moulds, guns, &c., and tools are lying about in all directions. To show how much the whole has been neglected, evenEgalitéhas been suffered to remain on one entrance pillar,Libertéon the other, and the wordImpérialin the middle. The fleur-de-lys will, I suppose, find its way there soon by some accident.
Suchet now commands both armies here. He told the Duke d’Angoulême that he had sixteen thousandmen of his own army at his service. This hero, to whom the day of the month, yesterday (May-day), reminded me of a much nearer resemblance than the drum-major, has left us, and is off to his troops.
There are two public libraries here, in which I have spent the better part of a morning each, one containing about thirty thousand volumes, the other about twenty-five thousand. The former has too large a proportion of ecclesiastical learning; but they both contain some good editions of classics and good historians, annals, &c., particularly the smaller library. They are old episcopal and private foundations, and have neither gained nor lost much by the Revolution, which is rather extraordinary. There seems to have been no very valuable early editions or manuscripts—nothing very much worth plundering; and they say they were too conscientious to take advantage of the times, and enrich themselves by plunder. The arrangement of the books is not bad. Firstly, good polyglot and other Bibles of all kinds; then commentaries on sacred history, &c.; then history in general; then laws of nations, &c.; then laws in general, essays, &c.; then French voyages, arts, sciences, classics, and belles lettres. There is an atlas of the Grand Canal and its vicinity on an immense scale, which might have been important had we proceeded, though I think no other stand would have been made until after we had gone beyond the limits of the canal, and after a junction of Soult with Suchet at Narbonne. Amongst the books pointed out as of the most interest, were Racine’s Greek editions of Euripides and Æschylus, containing his name and several notes in his own handwriting,—a remarkably neat hand. The editions were Stephens’ and Stanley’s. The notes were either short free translations of passages and sentiments, or memoranda to call attention to particular passages for future use and application, or they were short remarks of approbation or disapprobation ofscenes, passages, &c. I copied out nearly the whole, not being very long, and I now enclose them. Will you oblige me by putting them into my Euripides or somewhere, to be preserved.
Several of the private houses here of the merchants and nobles are on a very large scale, and contain very spacious suites of rooms round the court-yard. The architecture is, in general, very moderate. Most of the mansions have only the merit of extent; and one or two which have an attempt at more are in bad taste. The one most remarkable is particularly so. It has an immense heavy stone cornice, out of all proportion, and the capitals of all the pillars are a species of false Corinthian, or rather, Composite, with the upper ornaments, spread eagles, in most barbarous taste, and in the place of the most beautiful part of the true pillars of the Composite order.
Toulouse appears to have been for a very considerable time nearly stationary in size. There is not, as in some of our country towns, and in some of those in France, the new town as well as the old. The old brick walls, with occasional towers, remain entire almost all round, and still form nearly the city boundary, for there is scarcely any suburbs without the walls. At several of the entrances within there seems to have been some vacant spaces, and in two or three places an ornamental sort of crescent or square has been commenced,—one lately, but the others before the Revolution. They are all unfinished. In general, however, all within the city walls is covered with building of some sort or another.
The splendid façade of the Capitolium was raised before the Revolution. Henry IV. commenced the work, it is said, and his statue remains there. A very small beginning has been made towards stone façades on one of the other sides of the Grande Place of the Capital, but in general the old shabby buildings still remain, and seem likely to do so, for some time to come.
May 3rd.—Our Prince is gone to review his new army under Suchet, and leaves us quiet. Every day carries off some of our higher officers, and we all expect to move the instant Lord Wellington returns, if not before. To-morrow, if possible, I go with a party and passport to see the great basin de Feriol, the main feeder of the Grand Canal. It is the sight of this country, and therefore, though expecting to be disappointed, I have agreed to join Dr. Macgregor and a party to-morrow, and return the next day. It is near Revel, about thirty-two miles off.
I yesterday attended the Court of Appeal here for the four departments around—Aude, Tarn, Lot and Garonne, and Arriège. There were ten judges present: there exist, and may be present, as many as sixteen, and a quorum of seven is necessary to form a Court. There were, besides theProcureur-GénéralandAdvocat-Général, about twenty-five barristers in gowns, nearly like ours, but with bonnets instead of wigs. They were dirty, and mostly old, and looked precisely like a set of provincial barristers in England. The same habits make the manners and appearance so similar in nations nearly equally civilized, that, until the language betrayed the difference, I could have fancied myself in England again.
The subject in dispute was half an acre of vineyard, and it turned on the construction of a confused legacy in a will of an old gentleman. The eagerness with which the contest was maintained reminded me of a Court of Quarter Sessions in England,—all talking at once, and with abundance of noise and action, especially just as the ten judges, like our juries, had laid their heads together to consider, and whilstle Procureur-Généralwas summing up the law and argument previously to the Court. Either the lawyers and judges must be starving, or the judicial establishment must be very expensive in France now.
There are, besides this Court, others ofPremière Instancein each department, and in four departments you have more judges than in England. Unless some changes are made, the French, in my opinion, will find their whole government, which is calculated for a larger empire, in every way much too expensive. This will prevent any great reduction of ordinary taxation. The King and his court to be paid; the senate; all the marshals and grand dignitaries, the prefêts, &c. Each department now has a salary to pay its prefêt nearly as large as that of an intendant of a whole province before the Revolution. The King will find abundance of patronage, if this goes on; but a great part of the national income will be consumed in the management and support of the different species of rulers. One advantage in this, it is to be hoped, will be to keep France more quiet in future, as I have otherwise little faith in the present temper of this changeable race.
May 7, 1814. Post-day.—At five o’clock on Wednesday morning I went to Dr. Macgregor’s to breakfast, preparatory to our expedition to St. Feriol, having obtained our leave and a passport for that purpose. Our party consisted of Dr. H——, Colonel G——, and P——, General H——, and Mr. J——, and Mrs. J——. On account of the latter, who was in an interesting condition, we set out on the canal road towards Castelnaudary, that she might go in the boat. We rode along the towing-path very pleasantly for about twenty miles. Finding that Castelnaudary would be so much out of the way, we then left the canal and rode across through Villefranche and St. Felix to Revel, about twenty-two miles further. This water scheme delayed us much, so that we did not reach Revel until seven or eight at night, and it also lengthened our ride considerably.
The ordinary dinner at twelve, at the lock-house, was however, entertaining, and partly made up for this; but, in truth, ladies should learn on these occasions, when insuch a state, to stay at home. We expected amalheurevery hour, she was so fatigued.
On Thursday morning, after breakfast, we went three miles to Sorège, to see the great college or school establishment there, which is about three miles from Revel. It was formerly attached to a convent, and a sort of Government military establishment. At the Revolution the buildings were sold, and the present director and his brother, who was one of the professors of the old establishment, bought the whole, and undertook to continue, and, as they say, to improve the plan as a private specution. There are now about three hundred boys, from eight to nineteen, or even twenty-one years old. On the present arrangement, four hundred and forty is the limit. The number, it is said, once amounted to nearly six or seven hundred. There are now about thirty Protestant boys. The rest are Catholics. Most of the Spanish boys, once very numerous, left the school during the late war. This peace, it is supposed, will bring them back, even in greater numbers. English boys are also expected to come again, as formerly.
The building is very spacious, and is prettily situated, under the side of a mountainous tract of country, at the head of a valley. The accommodation is very ample, and the order and arrangement very great; though, in my opinion, it is less cleanly than the college at Aire. The studies are more varied; and the whole is complete in itself; for there is a priest, a doctor, an Italian professor of mineralogy, anatomy, a riding-master, and teachers of all kinds. The regular studies for all the boys are French, Latin, a little Greek, mathematics to some extent, dancing, swimming, drawing from models and casts, perspective, drawing from anatomical study, fortification, &c.; and for the upper boys, riding—for which purpose about sixteen horses are at the disposal of the riding-master. In addition to this, every boy has his own bedsteadof iron; and all the two upper classes of the three into which the whole school is divided have separate places to sleep in. Every boy, at a certain time, either follows in his studies the choice of his parents, or his own inclination, and may learn Italian, German, English, Spanish, or any musical instrument; even the pianoforte. The drawing-school is hung round with the approved productions of the boys, and is spacious, and so is the riding-school. There is also a theatre, regularly fitted up, in which the boys recite, and act plays and perform concerts; asking the neighbours to come and form an audience. The establishment also contains a small botanical garden, a tolerable collection of mineralogy, and a piece of water for the purpose of swimming. The boys were all in uniform, and looked healthy and well. As they come from all quarters, it is usual to leave them there all the year round, and this is rather expected and desired. They come clothed at first, but afterwards everything is found them, and the parents have nothing to do but to paymille francs, about 45l.or 50l., annually, and no bills or extras of any kind are ever sent or charged, whatever may be learnt by the boys: this is rather dearer than at Aire or St. Sever, I believe, but not much, when all circumstances are considered.
We found the schoolmasters consequential and prosy, as they usually are with us. The Italian, who was more particularly so, was formerly the professor who managed the Grand Duke of Tuscany’s collection. This education would, I think, suit many an orphan or natural son destined for the English army, and with small means. He would join his regiment at eighteen, with much more useful knowledge than could be obtained for the same money in England, as to languages, &c., and much information useful to a military man. He would also come away, with at least one or two accomplishments probably, by which he might amuse himself in country-quarters,and be kept out of mischief. It might also answer for mercantile men, merchants, clerks, &c., though, perhaps, some of these pursuits would only make them idle. Most of the boys are destined for merchants or soldiers, I understood. For other professions, probably, we have as good, or better, and as cheap an education in Yorkshire, and other places in England. This sort of education accounts for the general distribution of a certain extent of acquirement which we see amongst the French officers, and for the advantages they possess as to the power of self-amusement. When prisoners of war, they have a smattering of drawing, dancing, singing, music, acting, &c.
We then went to the basin of St. Feriol. On our way I rode up a valley to see some foundries of copper, which were much talked of; only one of a number was at work, as times were so bad. I found the copper was Swedish, and only worked there on account of the facilities of wood and water to work the bellows and anvil. The work in which the men were then engaged, was making saucepans and pots, and stewing-pans for the Toulouse ships, and on a very small scale. I always like to ascertain that there is nothing to see when a sight is talked of. We went then over the hill to the basin.
The extent of this basin rather surprised me; but though it was almost exactly what I expected to find it, I was very glad to have seen it. The shape of the ground, and course of the stream, were particularly fortunate and well adapted to the plan, and the great dam or dyke, which pens back the water, so as to form a small lake, in depth, near the wall, from fifty to sixty feet, is a noble work. It consists of three main walls, wellterrassedor puddled between each, and with two large arched vaults, one quite at the bottom, covering the natural bed of the river; the other higher up, and leading to therobinetsor great cocks, which let out thewater as required. The river coming down the valley fills the basin, not being able to find its vent, and therefore spreading over the ground, and filling all the hollows up to the dam wall, which is about sixty feet high. The banks, except the natural dam, are the natural shape of the ground, and there is no excavation at all. When full, the water as required is let out by a hatch, and so runs by into the stream, which conducts it, after about ten miles circuit, to the highest point of the canal, whence the locks descend both ways to Toulouse, and to the Mediterranean. It then supplies both. When the basin is low, the next opening is a sort of hatch or floodgate, lower down in the wall; when lower still, the water is let off by three greatrobinetsor cocks at the end of thevoute, about thirty feet or so below the surface. When these are opened, the rushing of the water makes a tremendous noise, at a distance like that of thunder. When it is required to empty or clean the basin, the river is turned off, and the contents of the basin empty themselves in the original bed of the stream: the contents of the basin are, in my opinion, six millions of tons of water. There is another smaller basin, about ten miles higher up, in the mountains, and another near the canal, whence the stream enters it.
The whole seems well managed. The canal itself is kept in great order, like our New River, the banks trimmed, &c.; and in width it exceeds even our Royal Canal in Ireland, probably by several yards.
With much delay and difficulty, we got Mrs. J—— through these sights, after much unnecessary alarm and fright in the vaults. We returned about five to dinner at Revel, where we slept again yesterday. We had a hot ride home through Caraman and Lentar, about thirty-two miles. The country round the canal and in the bottoms is rich and fertile, but it contains little wood. It is like some of our Somersetshire and Dorsetshire valleys,but more covered with villas and chateaux, and villages. The road back, by Caraman, is through a much poorer country, but also like the higher bad parts of Somersetshire, and that neighbourhood—such as near Chard and the hills round Bath.
The villages seem in a state of decay, and the inhabitants poor, but the country upon the whole is in much better condition, in point of cultivation and appearance, than one could suppose after what has passed in the last twenty years. In one or two out-of-the-way places we were stared at, and followed like monsters or sights, but were everywhere well received by the people. At Sorège some French cavalry was quartered; but they were nearly all gone to the grand review before the Duke d’Angoulême. I should like to have been there also; but we understood it would not be liked, and that the Duke was to go without English altogether: this was quite right. I am told that the review went off well, and that Soult himself set a good example.
It is strange to think of our carrying off Bonaparte in a frigate; and his conversation with Augereau is curious after the address of the latter to his men. King Joseph is gone off and escaped; but no one need be much afraid of him now.
The style of nearly all the French chateaux is similar; all front and appearance.
On my return yesterday I dined with Mr. B—— and his French hosts, for I scarcely know whose dinner it was; I believe a joint effort. The wines were the patron’s, and very good. He is a man of fortune, a Monsieur de T——, and speaks English tolerably. The wife is a pleasing woman, and rather good-looking and young. They were very civil, and she sang and played in the evening very fairly. At least she had much execution and dash, if not feeling, in her playing. Like most of our young female players, she left out all the andantes and slow passages.
The furniture of the two or three rooms in which she lived was very splendid. Handsome carpets were alone wanting to make her own room in particular an elegant fine lady’s drawing-room in England. In some respects, particularly as to the gilding, there was both more show and taste than generally are seen with us. The pianoforte was particularly handsome; it was by Erard of Paris, and, though only a small one, cost a hundred louis d’or. The whole content of her room cost, it is said, a thousand louis d’or.
In the variety and materials of the ladies’ dresses here, there seems to be also a very considerable degree of luxury—more perhaps than with us.
We are now very dull, and as the Prince is still absent, do not even hear the “Vive le Roi!” or “Vivent les Bourbons!” &c., as usual. I was much amused yesterday at seeing pasted up at a country inn, a halfpenny print of the royal Duke d’Angoulême in his best, on horseback, and surrounded by a copy of most loyal verses singing his praises and those of the Bourbons, and the English, in the measure, and going to the music of the famous Marseillais hymn; in short, a sort of parody of that song, beginning “Allons enfans de la Garonne,” &c. What changes!