CHAPTER IV.

It cannot be doubted that such a man would sacrifice regiment after regiment to obtain his purpose; we may indeed wonder, that when known to possess such a heart, he was obeyed by his men: But a little thought, a little reflection on the means he took to ingratiate himself with his troops will remove this difficulty. Look also at his dispatches, his proclamations, and orders; they appear the effusion of the father of a family addressing his children: "Their country required the sacrifices, which he deplored." All thought is at an end when they are thus attacked on their weak side. At other times, the hope of plunder was held out to them. The words,glory, honour, their country, laurels, immortal fame—these words, fascinating to the ear of any people, are more peculiarly so to the French. When conversing with an old French officer, who had served under the Prince of Condè in the emigrant army, on this subject, he made this remark: "Sir, you do not know the French; assemble them together, and having pronounced the wordsglory, honour and your country, point to the moon, and you will have an army ready to undertake the enterprise." Napoleon was well aware of this weakness of the French. He would ride through the ranks on the eve of a battle, would recall their former victories to one body; make promises to a second; joke with a third,—cold, distant, and forbidding at all other times, he is described as affable in the extreme on all such occasions. The meanest soldier might then address him.

The rapid military promotion may be given as another cause of Napoleon's success. The most distinguished corps were, of course, the greatest sufferers; and the young man who joined the army, as a lieutenant, on the eve of an action, was a captain the next day, perhaps a colonel before he had seen a year's service.[28]"Des ouvriers sortis de leurs atteliers (says Monsieur Gaillais in his "Histoire de Dix Huit Brumaire,") des paysans echappes de villages, avec un bonnet sur la tête et un baton a la main, devenaient au bout de six mois des soldats intrepides, et au bout de deux ans des officiers agueris, et des generaux redoubtables au plus anciens generaux de l'Europe." Nothing struck me more forcibly than the youth of the French officers. The generals only are veterans, for Bonaparte well knew, that experience is as necessary as courage in a General.

Next, we may direct our attention to the means which this despot possessed, by filling the war department with his own creatures; by giving liberal salaries and unlimited power to the prefects of the different departments, he amassed both troops and pay to support them. The tyrannic measures for levying these became at last insupportable; the people were rising in the villages, and by force of arms rescuing their companions; and it is very probable that he might have found, latterly, a want of men; but for years he has had at his disposal three hundred thousand men annually. In describing the effects of the conscription, one of the members of the Senate made use of the following expression:—[29]"On moissonne les homines trois fois l'anneé."

With such supplies, what single power could resist him? War with him became a mere mechanical calculation. Among the causes of his elevation, the use he made of the other continental Powers must not be forgotten; whether gained by corruption, treachery, or force, they all became his allies; they were all compelled to assist him with troops. When the Sovereigns of these countries consented to his plans, they were permitted to govern their own kingdoms, otherwise the needy family of Bonaparte supplied theroiteletsat a moment's warning. These little monarchs, he is said to have treated with the utmost contempt.

My readers may perhaps be inclined to smile, when I mention among the causes of Napoleon's elevation, the use made by him of ballad-singers, newsmongers, pedlars, &c. But really, on a deliberate view of his system of juggling and deception, I am inclined to believe, that it was one of his most powerful engines. The people of France are not only the most vain, but the most credulous in the world. To work on their feelings, he kept in constant pay author of every description, from the man who composed the Vaudeville, which was sold for half a sous, to the authors of the many clever political pamphlets which daily appear in France: for the dissemination of these, he had agents, not only in France, but in distant countries. When he aimed at the subjugation of any part of the continent, his first endeavour was always to disseminate seditious and inflammatory pamphlets against its Government. It is never doubted in France, that even inEngland, he had his emissaries.

Editors of newspapers, in every part of the globe, were in his pay. The method in which the newspaper, called the Argus, was published, is an extraordinary proof of this fact. The Argus, whose principal object was to abuse the English, was first of all written in French, by one of the "Commissaires de Police;" it was then translated into English, and a few copies were circulated in this language, to keep up the idea, that it was smuggled over from England; after these found their way, the French copy, or in other words, the original, was widely circulated. A more infamous trick can scarce be conceived. Extracts from this paper were, by express order of Napoleon, published in every French paper. Nothing was considered by him as beneath his notice. He encouraged dancing, feasting, gaming. The theatres, concerts, public gardens, were under his protection. The traiteurs, the keepers of caffès, of brothels, of ale-houses, the limonadiers, and the wine-merchants, were his particular favourites. His object in this was, to produce a degree of profligacy in the public manners, and a disgust at industry; and the consequence was, the resort of all ranks to the army, as the easiest and most lucrative profession.

With regard to the many other causes which will suggest themselves to my readers in reading a history of his campaigns, I shall say nothing; for on all of these, as well as on the causes of his downfall, which I shall merely enumerate, I leave them to make their own observations. I have already been very tedious, and have yet much to observe on different points of his character.

To the last rigorous measures for the conscription, to the institution of the "Droits Reunis;" to the formation of the garde d'honneur; and to his attack on the religion of France, Bonaparte owed his first unpopularity. The hatred of the French is as impetuous as their admiration. They exclaimed against every measure when they were once exasperated against him: still he had many friends; still he possessed an army which kept the nation in awe. This army he chose to sacrifice in Spain and Russia. The nation could no longer supply him, and the strong coalition which took place against him, was not to be repelled by a broken-down army. His military talent seemed latterly to have forsaken him, and never was the expulsion of a tyrant so easily accomplished.

His excessive vanity never left him—of this, the Moniteur for the last ten years is a sufficient proof; but in reading the accounts of him, I was particularly struck with the instances which follow.

Anxious to impress on the minds of the Directors, the necessity of the expedition to Egypt, he made a speech, in which the meanest flattery was judiciously mingled with his usual vanity.[30]"Ce n'est que sous un gouvernement aussi sage aussi grand que le votre, qu'un simple soldat tel que moi pouvait conçevoir le projet de porter la guerre en Egypte.—Oui, Directeurs, à peine serais je maitre d'Egypte, et des solitudes de la Palestine, que l'Angleterre vous donnera un vaisseau de premier bord pour un sac de bled."

Some days before his celebrated appearance among the "Cinq Cents," his friends advised him to repair thither well armed, and attended with troops.[31]"Si je me presente avec des troupes (disait Napoleon), c'est pour complaire à mes amis, car en verité j'ai la plus grande envie d'y paraitre comme fit jadis Louis XIV. au Parlement, en bottes, et un fouet à la main."

In his speech to the Corps Legislatif, on the 1st of January 1814, he made use of the following words at the close of an oration, composed of the same unmeaning phrases, strung together in fifty different shapes.[32]"Je suis de ces homines qu'on tue, mais qu'on ne dishonore pas. Dans trois mois nous aurons la paix, ou l'enemi sera chasse de notre territoire—ou, je serai mort."

A further specimen of Napoleon's style, will, I think, amuse my readers; I shall, therefore, copy out an extract of his speech to the Legislative Body:[33]"Je vous ai appellè autour de moi pour faire le bien, vous avez fait le mal, vous avez entre vous des gens devouès à l'Angleterre, qui correspondent avec le Prince Regent par l'entremise de l'avocat Deseze. Les onze-douziemes parmi vous sont bons; les autres sont des factieux. Retournez dans vos departments;—je vous y suivrai de l'œil. Je suis un homme qu'on peut tuer, mais qu'on nè saurait deshonnorer. Quel est celui d'entre vous qui pouvait supporter le fardeau du pouvoir; il a ecrasè l'Assemble Constituante, qui dicta des loix à un monarque faible. Le Fauxbourg St Antoine nous aurait secondé, mais il vous est bientot abandonnè. Que sont devenus les Jacobins, les Girondins, les Vergniaux, les Guadets, et tant d'autres? Ils sont morts. Vous avez cherché à me barbouiller aux gens de la France. C'est un attentat;—qu'est que le trone, au reste? Quatre morçeaux de bois dorè recouverts de velours. Je vous avais indiqué un Commité Secret; c'etait là qu'il fallait laver notre linge. J'ai un titre, vous n'en avez point. Qui etes vous dans la Constitution? Vous n'avez point d'autorite. C'est le Trone qui est la Constitution. Tout est dans le trone et dans moi. Je vous le repete, vous avez parmi vous des factieux. Monsieur Laisnè est un mechant homme; les autres sont des factieux. Je les connais, et je les poursuivrai. Je vous le demande, Etait ce cependant que les ennemies sont chez nous qu'il fallait faire de pareilles choses? La nature m'a doué d'un courage fort; il peut resister à tout. Il en a beaucoup coutè a mon orgueil, je l'ai sacrifiè. Je suis au dessus de vos miserables declamations. J'avais demandé des consolations et vous m'avez dishonoré. Mais non; mes victoires ecrasent vos criailleries. Je suis de ceux qui triomphent ou qui meurent. Retournez dans vos departments."

The vanity of Napoleon led him to suppose that he was fitted to lay down the law to the most eminent among the French philosophers; that he could improve the French language, the theatre, the state of society, the public seminaries, the weights and measures of the realm. He meddled, in short, with every thing. Under the walls of Moscow, he composed a proclamation in the morning, declaring that he would soon dictate a code of laws to the Russians; and, in the evening, he dictated a code of regulations for the theatres of Paris. His ardent wish was, to have it thought that he had time and capacity for every thing. It arose from this, that he trusted to no one, and having himself every thing to do, that he did nothing well. If he went to visit a college, he prepared Latin and Greek sentences for the occasion; in many of his speeches he introduced scrapes of classic lore. His love of Greek terms is admirably described in a little epigram, made on his newtarifof weights and measures, in which thegramsandkillograms, andmetresandkillometresare introduced.

Les Grecs pour nous ont tant d'attraitsQui pour se faire bien entendre,Et pour comprendre le FrançaisCe'st le Greque qu'il faut apprendre.

He was particularly anxious that his police should be perfect. He pursued, for the accomplishment of his views, the same plan so successfully employed under the celebrated Sartine. He had spies in every private family, and every rank and denomination. These he did not employ as Sartine did, for the detection of thieves and robbers; with him, the dreadful machine of espionage was organised, in order that he might always know the state of public feeling; that knowing also the character of each individual, he might be the better able to select instruments fit for his purposes. Fouche had brought this system to the utmost perfection. Bonaparte distrusted him, and demanded proofs of his activity. Fouche desired him to appoint a day, on which he should give him a full account of every action performed by him. The day was appointed, the utmost precaution was used by the Emperor; but the spies gave an account of his every action from six in the morning till eight at night. They refused to inform Fouche what had become of Bonaparte after eight; but said, that if the Emperor desired it, they would inform him in person. The Emperor did not press the subject farther, but confessedthat he had not spent the remainder of the evening in the best of company. Ever after this he was satisfied with the state of the police. To give some idea of the activity of this system, I may mention a curious anecdote, which I received from our banker: One of the most respectable bankers in Paris, whose name I have forgot, was sitting at supper with his chiefcommisor clerk. They were served by one faithful old servant, who, during 30 years, had been tried, and had always been found worthy of confidence. The conversation turned on the subject of the last campaign—this was before the campaign of Paris. Thecommishappened to remark, that he thought Bonaparte's career was nearly finished, and that he would meet his fate presently. The next morning the banker received a letter from the Police Department, instructing him to order the departure of hiscommisfrom Paris within 24 hours, and from France within a month.

The same gentleman gave me a genuine edition of the celebrated story of Sartine's stopping the travellers at the gates of Paris. It may amuse my readers, although, I dare say, they have seen it before in other shapes.

A very rich lace merchant from Brussels, was in the habit of constantly frequenting the fair of St Denis. On these occasions, he repaired to Paris in the public diligence, accompanied by his trunks of lace. He had apartments at an hotel in the Rue des Victoires, which he had for many years occupied; and to secure which, he used always to write some weeks before. An illness had prevented his visiting the fair during two years; on the third, he wrote as usual to his landlord, and received an answer, that the death of the landlord had occasioned a change in the firm and tenants of the house; but that he was well known to them, and that they would keep for him his former rooms, and would do their utmost to give him satisfaction.

The merchant set out—arrived at the barrier of Paris; the diligence was stopped, and a gentleman whom he had never seen before, accosted him by name, and desired him to alight. The merchant was a good deal surprised at this; but you may judge of his alarm, when he heard an order given to theconducteurto unloose numbers one, two, three—the trunks, in which was contained his whole fortune. The gentleman desired he would not be afraid, but trust every thing to him. The diligence was ordered away, and the lace merchant, in a state of agony, was conveyed by his new acquaintance to the house of Monsieur de Sartine. He there began an enumeration of his grievances, but was civilly interrupted by M. de Sartine—"Sir, you have not much reason to complain; but for your visit to me here, you would have been murdered this night at twelve." The minister then detailed to him the plan that had been laid for his murder, and astonished him by shewing a copy, not only of the letter which he had written to the landlord of the hotel, but also the answer returned by the landlord. Monsieur de Sartine then begged that he would place the most implicit confidence in him, and remain in his house until he should recover himself from his fright. He would then return to the coach in waiting, and would be attended to the hotel by one of his emissaries as valet. The merchant told him that the people of the house would not be deceived by a stranger, for they were well acquainted with all his concerns, and even with his writing. "Examine your attendant," said M. de Sartine; "you will find him well instructed, and he speaks your dialect as you do yourself." A few questions convinced the merchant that the minister had made a good selection. M. de Sartine then described the reception he would meet with, the rooms he was to occupy, the persons he should see, and laid down directions for his conduct; telling him, at the same time, that if at a loss, he should consult his attendant. On his arrival at the inn, every thing shewed the wonderful correctness of the information. His reception was kind as ever. Dinner was served up; and the merchant, according to his practice, engaged himself till a late hour in his usual occupations. The valet played his part to a miracle, and saw his master to bed, after repeating to him the instructions of Monsieur de Sartine. The merchant, as may well be supposed, did not sleep much. At twelve, a trap door in the floor opened gently, and a man ascended into the apartment, having a dark lanthorn in one hand, and in the other, some small rings of iron, used for gagging people to prevent their speaking. He had just ascended, when the valet knocked him down and secured him; the room was immediately filled with the officers of the police. The house had been surrounded to prevent escape; and in a cellar under the room where the merchant had slept, and which communicated with the trap door, were found the master, mistress, and all the members of the gang—they were all secured.

Let us proceed with the character of Napoleon. All the world is well acquainted with his vices; it is less probable that they have ever heard of his virtues, of his having shown that he felt as a man. The following instance is authentic:

After the capture of Berlin, the command of the city was given to one of the Prussian generals, who had sworn fidelity to Bonaparte. This officer betrayed his trust, and communicated to the King of Prussia all the information which he obtained of the motions of the French army. Bonaparte obtained sufficient proof of his crime, by intercepted letters. The officer was arrested, a military trial was ordered, and sentence of death pronounced. The wife of the officer threw herself at the feet of Bonaparte, and implored the life of her husband. He was touched, and drawing out from his pocket the letters which proved the crime, he tore them to pieces, saying, that in thus destroying the proofs of his guilt, he deprived himself of the power of afterwards punishing it. The officer was immediately released.

If Napoleon did not possess feeling, or even common humanity, he was at least anxious that the people of France should believe that he had these good qualities. It is said that, on the evening before he left Paris on his last campaign, he sent for the tragedian Talma, and had taught to him the action, features and aspect which he the next day employed when he left his wife and child to the care of the national guard. The following scene will at once show his desire to be esteemed generous, and his utter meanness of character:—[34]"Un de ses Ministres l'aborde un jour et lui presente un rapport qu'il avait desiré; il s'agissait d'une conspiration contre sa personne. J'etais present à cette scene. Je m'attendais, je l'avoue, à le voir entrer en fureur, fulminer contre les traitres, menacer les magistrats, et les accuser de negligence. Point du tout; il parcourt le papier sans donner le moindre signe d'agitation. Jugez de ma surprise, ou plutôt quelle douce emotion j'eprouvais quand il fit entendre ces paroles touchantes et sublimes:—"Monsieur le Comte, l'etat n'a point souffert; les magistrats n'ont point etè insultés; ce n'est donc qu'à ma personne qu'ils en voulaient; je les plains de ne point savoir que tous mes vœux tendent au bonheur de la France; mais tout homme peut s'egarer. Dites aux ingrats que je leurs pardonne. Mons. le Conte aneantissez la procedure." Maintenant je defie le royaliste le plus fidele qui seroit temoin d'un proçede si magnanime, de ne point dire, si le ciel dans sa colere devait un usurpateur a la France; remercions d'avoir du celui ci. Arrete malhereux, tes yeux ont vu, tes oreilles ont entendu, ne crois rien de tout; mais deux jours apres trouve toi, au lever de ce hero, si magnanime, si peu avide de se veuger—on ouvre, le voici, la foule des courtisans l'environne, tout le monde fixe les yeux sur lui. Sa figure est decomposée, tous les muscles de son visage sont en contraction, tout son ensemble est farouche et colere. Un silence funebre regne dans l'assemblée. Le Prince n'a point encore parlè, mais il promene des regardes sur la groupe: il appeicoit le meme officier, qui deux jours avant lui avait presente le rapport, "Monsieur le Conte, (dit il), ces laches conspirateurs sont ils executés? Leurs complices sont ils aux fers? Les bourreaux on ils donnè un nouvel example a qui voudrait imiter ceux qui veuleut a ma personne?"

A distinguishing feature in Napoleon's character was unnecessary cruelty; of this the campaign in Moscow, (of which Labaume's narrative is a true though highly-coloured picture), the slaughter of the Turks in Egypt, the poisoning of his invalids, and the death of every one who stood in his way, are sufficient and notorious proofs. St Cloud was in general the scene of his debaucheries. The following anecdote was related by Count Rumford to a gentleman of my acquaintance, and may be depended on as correct; for at the time that it happened, Count Rumford was in lodgings on the spot. Napoleon had brought from Paris a beautiful girl belonging to the opera; he had carried her into one of the arbours of the garden. Many of the little boys about St Cloud were in habits of climbing up among the trees, whether merely as a play, or from curiosity to see the Emperor. On leaving the arbour with his favourite, Napoleon saw one of these boys perched upon a high tree above him. He flew straight to one of the gates, and bringing the sentinel who was stationed there, he pointed out the boy, exclaiming, "Tirez sur ce b—— la." The order was executed, and the boy never more seen.

But for no one act did he incur the hatred of the French in such a degree as for the murder of the Duke d'Enghien; in committing this crime, not only the laws of humanity, but the laws of nations were violated.

This branch of the Royal Family was under a foreign power; he could by no means be esteemed a subject of Bonaparte. Even the family of Bonaparte, who, (as we shall presently see), did not possess many good qualities, were shocked with this crime; they reproached him with it; and Lucien said to him,[35]"Vous voulez dont nous faire trainer sur la claye."

The treatment of the Pope, of Pichegru, of Georges, of Moreau, furnish us with further instances of his cruelty. Bonaparte did his utmost to make the Parisians believe that Moreau was connected with Pichegru in the conspiracy to establish the Bourbons on the throne. This was totally false. But Napoleon, jealous of a rival like Moreau, could not bear that he should live. Moreau's bold and unbending character hastened his downfall. He always called the flat-bottomed boats,[36]"Ces coquilles de noix;" and after an excellent dinner which he gave at Paris to many of his fellow Generals, in mockery of the[37]"Epées d'honneur, fusils d'honneur," &c., which Bonaparte at this time distributed; Moreau sent for his cook, and with much ceremony invested him with a[38]"casserole d'honneur."

There are many interesting traits of this noble character, which, if I had time, I should wish to give my readers. When he had been condemned to imprisonment for two years, by the express orders of Bonaparte, the impression made on the mind of the soldiery, of the judges, and of all the court, was such, that they seemed insensible to what was going on. Nobody was found to remove him from the bar; he descended the stairs of the court; walked down the street amid a crowd of admirers; and instead of escaping, as he easily might, he called a coach, and ordered the coachman to drive to the Temple. When arrived there, he informed the Governor of his sentence, and its execution. My readers will, I am sure, be pleased with a few extracts from the account of Moreau's death, given by his friends, M. Breton de la Martiniere and M. Rapatel:

"Moreau conversait avec l'Empereur Alexandre, dont il n'etait separé que le demi longueur d'un cheval. Il est probable qu'on apperçut de la place ce brillant etat major, et que l'on tira dessus au hazard. Moreau fut seul frappé. Un boulet lui fraccassa le genou droit et à travers le flanc du cheval alla emporter le gros de la jambe gauche. Le genereux Alexandre versa des larmes. Le Colonel Rapatel se preçipitait sur son General. Moreau poussa un long soupir et s'evanouit. Revenu à lui meme, il parle avec le plus grand sang froid, et dit à Monsieur Rapatel, "Je suis perdu, mon ami, mais il est si glorieux de mourir pour une si belle cause, et sous les yeux d'un aussi grand Prince." Péu d'instants apres il dit à l'Empereur Alexandre lui meme, "Il ne vous reste que le tronc—mais le cœur y est, et la tête est à vous." Il doit souffrir des douleurs aigus—il demanda une cigare et se mit tranquillement à fumer.

"Mons. Wylie, premier chirurgien de l'Empereur Alexandre, se hata d'amputer la jambe qui etait la plus mal traiteé. Pendant cette cruelle operation, Moreau montra à peine quelque alteration dans ses traits et ne cessa point de fumer la cigarre. L'amputation faite, Monsieur Wylie examina la jambe droite, et la trouva dans un tel etat qu'il ne peut se defendre d'un mouvement d'effroi. "Je vous entend," dit Moreau, "Il faut encore couper celle ci, eh bien, faites vite. Cependant j'eusse preferé la mort." Il voulait ecrire à sa femme. Il ecrivait donc d'une main assez ferme ces propres expressions. "Ma chere amie,—La bataille se decide il y a trois jours.—J'ai eu les deux jambes emportées d'un boulet de canon—ce coquin de Bonaparte est toujours hereux. On m'a fait l'amputation aussi bien que possible—l'armée a faite un mouvement retrograde, ce n'est pas par revers, mais par decousu et pour se rapprocher au General Blucher. Excuse mon griffonage. Je t'aime et t'embrasse de tout mon cœur. Je charge Rapatel de finir."

"Tout à l'heure il dit: "Je ne suis pas sans danger, je le sais bien, mais si je meurs, si une fin prematurée m'enleve à une femme, à une fille aimèe; a mon pays que je voulais servir malgre lui meme; n'oubliez pas de dire, aux Français qui vous parleront de moi, que je meurs avec le regret de n'avoir pas accompli mes projets. Pour affranchir ma patrie du joug affreux qui l'opprime pour ecraser Bonaparte, toutes les armes, tous les moyens etaient bons. Avec quelle joie j'aurai consacré le peu de talent que je possede à la cause de l'humanite! Mon cœur appartenoit a la France."

"Vers sept heurs le malade se trouvant seul avec Monsieur Svinine lui dit d'une voix affaiblie—" Je veux absolument vous dicter une lettre.—Monsieur Svinine prit la plume en gemissant et traça ce peu de lignes sous la dictée de Moreau.

"Sire,—Je descends dans le tombeau avec les memes sentiments de respect, d'admiration, et de devouement que votre Majesté m'a constamment inspiré, des que j'ai eu le bohheur de m'approcher de votre personne."

"En pronoçant ces derniers mots, le malade s'interompit et ferma les yeux M. Svinine attendit, croyant que Moreau meditait sur la suite de sa depeche—Vain espoir—Moreau n'etait plus."[39]

I am impatient to finish the character of Napoleon, and to get upon some other more agreeable subject. I shall end by giving an account of his last appearance in France, as related to me by the Sub-Prefect of Aix, who accompanied him on his way from Aix to the coast.—After passing Montlement, the public feeling began to burst forth against him. The spirit of the Provençals could not be restrained. In every village was displayed the white cockade, and the fleur de lis. In one, the villagers were employed at the moment of his passing in hanging him in effigy; at another they compelled him to call out Vive le Roi, and he obeyed them, while his attendants refused. For a part of the way he was forced to mount a little poney in the dress of an Austrian officer. Arrived at the village of La Calade, the following extraordinary scene passed at the inn—It was also related to me by our banker, who had it from the hostess herself: The landlord was called for, and a mean-looking figure in plain clothes, with a travelling-cap, and loose blue pantaloons, asked him if he could have dinner for twenty persons who were coming. "Yes, (said the landlord), if you take what fare I have; but I trust it is not for thatcoquinthe Emperor, whom we expect soon here." "No, (said he), it is only for a part of his suite.—Bring here some wine, and let the people be well served when they arrive." Presently the landlady entered with the wine, a fine, bold Provençal, and a decided royalist, as all the Provençal snow are.[40]"Ecoutez, bonne femme, vous attendez l'Empereur n'est pas?" 'Oui, Monsieur, j'espere que nous le verrons?' "Eh bien, bonne femme, vous autres que dites vous de l'Empereur?" 'Qu'il est un grand coquin.' "Eh! ma bonne femme, et vous meme que dites vous?" 'Monsieur, voulez vous que je vous dise franchment ce que je pense: Si j'etais le capitaine du vaisseau, je ne l'embarquerai que pour le noyer."

The stranger said nothing. After an hour or two, the landlord asked his wife if she would like to see Bonaparte, for that he was arrived. She was all anxiety to see him. He took her up stairs, and pointed to the little man in the travelling cap. The surprise of the woman may be conceived. The Emperor made her approach, and said to her she was a good woman; but that there were many things told of Bonaparte which were not true.

I shall continue the Sub-Prefect's narrative in his own words:—[41]"Les Commissaires, en arrivant à Calade, le trouvoient la tête appuyée sur les deux mains, et le visage baignè de larmes. Il leur dit qu'on en voulait decidement à sa vie; que la maitresse de l'auberge, qui ne l'avait pas reconnu lui avait declaré que l'Empereur etait detesté comme un scelerat, et qu'on ne l'embarquerait que pour le noyer. Il ne voulait rien manger ni boire quelque instances qu'on lui fit, et quoiqu'il dut etre rassurè par l'example de ceux qui etaient a tablé avec lui. Il fit venir de la voiture du pain et de l'eau qu'il prit avec avidité. On attendait la nuit pour continuer la route; on n'etait qu'à deux lieues d'Aix. La population de cette ville n'eut pas eté aussi facile à contenir que celle des villages ou on avait deja couru tant de perils. Monsieur, le Sous-Prefét, prenant avec lui le Lieutenant des gend'armes et six gend'armes, se mit en route vers la Calade. La nuit etait obscure, et le temps froid; cette double circonstance protegea Napoleon beaucoup mieux que n'aurait fait la plus forte escorte. Mons. le Sous-Prefét et la gend'armerie rencontrerent le cortege peu d'instants apres avoir quitté la Calade, et la suivoient jusqu'à ce qu'ils arriverent aux portes d'Aix à deux heures du matin. Apres avoir changé les chevaux, Bonaparte continuant sa route, passa sous les murs de la ville, au milieu des cris repetés de "Vive le Roi," que firent entendre les habitants accourus sur les remparts. Il arriva a la limite du departement à une auberge appellee la Grande Prgere, ce fut là qu'il s'arreta pour dejeuner. Le General Bertrand proposa a Mons. le Sous-Prefét de monter, avant que de partir, dans la chambre des Commissaires ou tout le monde etait à dejeuner. Il y avoit dix ou douzes personnes. Napoleon etait du nombre; il avait son costume d'officier Autrichien, et une casque sur la tête. Voyant le Sous-Prefét an habit d'auditeur, il lui dit, "Vous ne m'auriez pas reconnu sons ce costume? Ce sont ces Messieurs qui me l'ont fait prendre, le jugeant necessaire à ma sureté. J'aurais pu avoir une escorte de trois mille homines, qui j'ai refusé, preferant de me fier à la loyauté Française. Je n'ai pas eu à me plaindre de cette confiance depuis Fontainbleau jusqu'à Avignon; mais depuis cette ville jusqu'ici j'ai eté insulté,—j'ai couru bien de dangers. Les Provençaux se dishonnerent. Depuis qui je suis en France je n'ai pas eu un bon battaillon de Provençeaux sous mes ordres. Ils ne sont bons que pour crier. Les Gascons sont fanfarons, mais au moins ils sont braves." Sur ces paroles, un des convives, qui etait sans dout Gascon, tira son jabot et dit en riant, "Cela fait plaisir."

Bonaparte continuant à s'addresser an Sous-Prefét, lui dit, "Que fait le Prefét?" 'Il est parti à la premiere nouvelle du changement survenu à Paris.' "Et sa femme?" 'Elle etait partie plutôt.'—"Elle avait donc prit le devant. Paie l'on bien les octrois et les droits reunis?"—'Pas un sou.'—"Y-a-t-il beaucoup d'Anglais à Marseilles?" Ici Mons. le Sous-Prefét raconta à Bonaparte tout ce qui s'etait passè naguere dans ce port, et avec quels transports on avait accueilli les Anglais. Bonaparte, qui ne prenait pas grand plaisir à ce reçit y mit fin en disant au Sous-Prefét, "Dites à vos Provençaux que l'Empereur est bien mecontent d'eux."

Arrivè a Bouilledon, il se s'enferma dans ua apartment avec sa sœur (Pauline Borghese)—Des sentinels furent places a la porte. Cependant des dames arriveés dans un galerie qui communiquait avec cette chambre, y trouverent un militaire en uniform d'officier Autrichien, qui leur dit, "Que desirez vous voir, Mesdames?" 'Nous voudrions voir Napoleon.' "Mais ce'st moi, Mesdames." Ces dames le regardant lui dirent en riant, 'Vous plaisantez, Monsieur; ce n'est pas vous qui etes Napoleon.' "Je vous assure, Mesdames, ce'st moi. Vous vous imaginez donc que Napoleon avait l'air plus mechant. N'est pas qu'on dit que je suis un scelerat, un brigand?" Les dames n'eurent garde de le dementir, Bonaparte ne voulant pas trop les presser sur ce point detourna le conversation. Mais toujours occupé de sa premier idée, il y revint brasquement: "Convenez en Mesdames, leur dit il, maintenant que la Fortune m'est contraire, on dit que je suis un coquin, un scelerat, un brigand. Mais savez vous ce que c'est que tout cela? J'ai voula mettre la France au dessus de l'Angleterre, et j'ai echoué dans ce projet."

STATE OF FRANCE UNDER NAPOLEON—CONTINUED.

AGRICULTURE.

Toone unacquainted with the present division of society, and the condition of each of its branches in France; to one who had only cast his eye, in travelling, over the immense tracts of cultivated land, with scarcely an acre of waste to diversify the scene, and who had permitted first impressions to influence his judgement, it might appear, that in agriculture, France far excelled every other country in the world. In England, we have immense tracts of common in many of the counties;—in Scotland; we have our barren hills, our mosses, and moors;—in America, the cultivation bears but a small proportion to the wilds, the swamps, and the forests. In our beautiful provinces in the East Indies, the cultivation forms but a speck in the wide extent of common, and forest, and jungle. Why should France furnish a different spectacle? Why should the face of the country there wear a continual smile, while its very heart is torn with faction, and its energies fettered by tyranny? There are many who maintain that this state of the country is the happy effect of the revolution; but it will, I conceive, not be difficult to shew, that though certainly a consequence of the great change, it is far from being a happy one. We surely would not pronounce it a happy state of things, where the interests of all other branches of the community were sacrificed to promote the welfare of the peasantry alone.

The peasantry, no doubt, when their rights are preserved to them, as they are the most numerous, so they become the most important members of a civil society. "Although," as is well observed by Arthur Young, "they be disregarded by the superficial, or viewed with contempt by the vain, they will be placed, by those who judge of things not by their external appearance, but by their intrinsic worth, as the most useful class of mankind; their occupations conduce not only to the prosperity, but to the very existence of society; their life is one unvaried course of hardy exertion and persevering toil. The vigour of their youth is exhausted by labour, and what are the hopes and consolations of their age? Sickness may deprive them of the opportunity of providing the least supply for the declining years of life, and the gloomy confinement of a work-house, or the scanty pittance of parochial help, are their only resources. By their condition may be estimated the real prosperity of a country; the real opulence, strength, and security of the public are proportionate to the comfort which they enjoy, and their wretchedness is asure criterion of a bad administration."

I have quoted this passage at length, in order that I might shew that France supplies us in this case, as in many others, with a wide exception from those general rules in politics which time and experience had long sanctioned. We shall in vain look at the state of the peasantry of that country as affording a criterion of the situation of any other branch of the community. It did not remain concealed from the deep and penetrating eye of Napoleon, that if the peasantry of a country were supported, and their condition improved, any revolution might be effected; any measure, however tyrannical, provided it did not touch them, might be executed with ease. For the sake of the peasantry, we shall perceive that the yeomanry, the farmers, thebourgeoisie, the nobility, were allowed to dwindle into insignificance. His leading principle was never to interfere with their properties, however they may have been obtained; and he invariably found, that if permitted to enjoy these, they calmly submitted to taxation, furnished recruits for his conscription, and supported him in every measure.

In tracing the causes and effects of the various revolutions which take place among civilized nations, political writers have paid too little attention to the effects of property. France affords us an interesting field for investigation on this interesting question; but the narrow limits of our work will not admit of our indulging in such speculations. We cannot, however, avoid remarking by the way, that the facility of effecting a revolution in the government of France, so often shewn of late, has arisen, in a great measure, from this state of the property of the peasantry. Under the revolution they gained this property, and they respected and supported the revolutionists. Under Napoleon, their property was respected, and they bore with him, and admired him. Louis commenced by encouraging them in the idea that their rights would be respected, and they remained quiet:—his Ministers commenced their plans of restoring to the noblesse their estates, and the King immediately lost the affections of the peasantry. They welcomed Napoleon a second time, because they knew his principles: They have again welcomed their King, because they are led to suppose that experience has changed the views of his Ministers: but they suspect him, and on the first symptom of another change they will join in his expulsion.

The nobility, the great landed proprietors, the yeomanry, the lesser farmers, all the intermediate ranks who might oppose a check to the power of a tyrannical prince, are nearly annihilated. The property of these classes, but more particularly of the nobility, has been subdivided and distributed among the peasants; become their own, it has, no doubt, been much better managed, for it is their immediate interest that not an acre of waste ground should remain. They till it with their own hands, and, without any intermediate agents, they draw the profits. Lands thus managed, must, of course, be found in a very different state from those whose actual proprietor is perhaps never on the spot, who manages through stewards, bailiffs, and other agents, and whose rank prevents the possibility of his assisting, or even superintending, the labour of his peasantry.

Having shewn the causes of the present appearance of France, we must describe the effects, by presenting to our readers the picture which was every where before our eyes in traversing the country. The improvement in agriculture, or to speak literally, in the method of tilling the soil, is by no means great. The description of the methods pursued, and of the routine of crops, given by Arthur Young, corresponds very exactly with what we saw. It may be observed, however, that the ploughing is rather more neat, and the harrowing more regular. To an English eye both of these operations would appear most superficial; but it ought to be considered, that here nature does almost every thing, little labour is necessary, and in many parts of the country manure is never used: but the defect in the quality of the cultivation is somewhat compensated by the quantity. Scarce an acre of land which would promise to reward the cultivator will be found untilled. The plains are covered with grain, and the most barren hills are formed into vineyards. And it will generally be found, that the finest grapes are the produce of the most dry, stony, and seemingly barren hills. It is in this extension of the cultivation that we trace the improvement; but there must also be some considerable change for the better, though not in the same degree, in the method of cultivation, which is demonstrated by the fact, that a considerable rise has taken place in the rent and price of land. In many places it has doubled within the last twenty-five years; anarpentnow selling for 1000 francs, which was formerly sold for 500.

It is, however, extraordinary, that these improvements have, as yet, only shewn their influence in the dress of the peasantry, and no where in the comfort or neatness of their houses. Between Calais and Paris, their houses are better than we found them afterwards on our way to the south. In that direction, also, they were almost invariably well clothed, having over their other clothes (and not as a substitute for a coat) a sort of blue linen frock, which had an appearance of attention to dress, not to be seen in other parts of the country, for the peasantry in most other parts, though neatly clothed, presented, in the variety of their habits and costumes, a very novel spectacle. The large tails, which give them so military an appearance, and impress us with the idea that they havemarched, are by no means a proof of this circumstance; for we were informed, that the first thing done in most instances, was to deprive the conscripts of their superabundant hair. But the long tail and the cocked hat, are worn in imitation of the higher orders of older time. It is indeed a sight of the most amusing kind to the English eye, to behold a French peasant at his work, in velvet coat and breeches, powdered hair, and a cocked hat. But we do not mean to give this as the usual dress of the peasants, although we have frequently met with it. Their dress is very often as plain, neat, and sufficient, as their houses are the reverse.

In Picardy, the luxuriant fruit-trees which surround the cottages and houses, give an appearance of comfort, which is not borne out by the actual state of the houses on a nearer inspection. Near Laon, and towards the frontiers of French Flanders, the condition of the peasantry appeared exceedingly comfortable. Their dress was very neat, and their houses much more substantial, and, in some parts, ornament was added to strength. In this district, the people had the advantage of being employed in the linen manufacture in their own houses, besides their ordinary agricultural occupations; and their condition reminded us of the effects of this intermixture of occupations presented by a view of Clydesdale in Scotland, or of the West Riding of Yorkshire.

Towards Fontainbleau, and to the east of Paris, on the road of Soissons, the peasantry inhabit the old villages, or rather little towns, and no cottages are to be seen on the lands. No gardens are attached to the houses in these towns. The houses have there an appearance of age, want of repair, and a complete stagnation of commerce. And even the peasantry there seemed considerably reduced, but they were always well dressed, and by no means answered Arthur Young's description. Still their houses denoted great want of comfort; very little furniture was to be seen, and that either of the very coarsest kind, or of the gaudy and gilded description, which shewed whence it came. The intermixture is hideous. In the parts of the country above named; the food often consisted of bread and pork, and was better than what we found in the south. But even here, the small number of pigs, the poor flocks of sheep, and, indeed, the absence of any species of pasture for cattle, demonstrated that there was not a general or extensive consumption of animal food or the produce of the dairy.

The little demand for butcher meat, or the produce of pasture, is probably, as Arthur Young has hinted, one great cause of the continuance of the fallow system of husbandry in France; for where there is no consumption of these articles, it is impossible that a proper rotation of crops can be introduced.

In noticing the causes of the decided improvement in the condition of the peasantry, we may observe in passing, that the great consumption of human life, during the revolution, and more particularly under Napoleon's conscription, must have considerably bettered the condition of those who remained, and who were able for work, by increasing the price of labour.

The industry of the peasants in every part of the country, cannot be sufficiently praised—it as remarkable as the apathy and idleness of tradesmen and artificers. Every corner of soil is by them turned to account, and where they have gardens, they are kept very neat. The defects in the cultivation arise, therefore, from the goodness of the climate, the ignorance or poverty of the cultivators, or from inveterate prejudice.

We must now say a few words with regard to the state of agriculture and the condition of the peasantry between Paris and Aix, and more especially in the south of France. Here also every acre of land is turned to good account, but the method of tilling the land is very defective. The improvements in agriculture, in modern times, will be found to owe their origin to men of capital, of education, and of liberal ideas, and such men are not to be found here. The prejudices and the poverty of their ancestors, have not ceased to have their effects in the present generation, in retarding the improvement in the tillage, and in the farm instruments. They are, in this respect, at least a century behind us. From the small subdivisions in many parts of the country, each family is enabled to till its own little portion with the spade; and where the divisions are larger, and ploughs used, they will invariably be found rude, clumsy, enormous masses of wood and iron, weak from the unskilfulness of the workmanship, continuing from father to son without improvement, because improvement would not only injure their purses, but give a deadly wound to that respect and veneration which they have for the good old ways of their ancestors. There is endless variety in the shape and size of the French plough; but amid the innumerable kinds of them, we never had the good fortune to meet one good or sufficient instrument.

The use of machinery in the farm-stead is unknown, and grain, as of old, is very generally trodden by oxen, sometimes on the sides of the high roads, and winnowed by the breath of Heaven.

In the south of France, we met with much more regular enclosure than around Paris; but even here, little attention is bestowed in keeping the fences in repair. Hedges are, however, less necessary in the south than elsewhere; for there is a complete want of live stock of every description, and no attention paid to the breeding of it. This want does not strike the traveller immediately, because he finds butcher meat pretty good in the small towns; excellent in the larger cities, and cheap everywhere. But he will find, that France is, in this respect, much in the same state with India. Animal food is cheap, because the consumption is very limited. In France, but more particularly in the south, I should say that not one-sixth of the butcher meat is consumed by each man or woman which would be requisite in England. Bread, wine, fruit, garlic, onions and oil, with occasionally a small portion of animal food, form the diet of the lower orders; and among the higher ranks, the method of cooking makes a little meat go a great way. The immense joints of beef and mutton, to which we are accustomed in England, were long the wonder of the French; but latterly, they have begun to introduce (among what they humorously termplats de resistance) these formidable dishes.

Excepting in the larger towns, butcher meat, particularly beef and mutton, is generally ill fed. In the part of the south, where we resided during the winter, the beef was procured from Lyons, a distance of above 200 miles. In the south, the breed of cattle of every description is small and stinted, and unless when pampered up for the market, they are generally very poor and ill fed. The traveller is everywhere struck with the difference between the English and French horses, cows, pigs, sheep, &c. and in more than the half of France, he will find, for the reasons formerly assigned, an almost total want of attention to these useful animals among the farmers. At Aix, where we were situated, there was only one cow to be found. Our milk was supplied by goats and sheep; and all the butter consumed there, excepting a very small quantity made from goat's milk, was also brought from Lyons. This want is not so much felt in Provence; because, for their cookery, pastry, &c. they use olive oil, which, when fresh, is very pleasant.

The want of barns, sheds, granaries, and all other farm buildings, is very conspicuous in the south. The dairy is there universally neglected, and milk can only be had early in the morning, and then in very small quantity; nay, the traveller may often journey a hundred miles in the south of France without being able to procure milk at all; this we ourselves experienced. The eye is nowhere delighted with the sight of rich and flourishing farm-steads, nor do the abundant harvests of France make any shew in regular farm-yards. All the wealth of the peasantry is concealed. Each family hides the produce of their little estate within their house. An exhibition of their happy condition would expose them to immediate spoliation from the tax-officers. In our own happy country, the rich farm-yard, the comfortable dwelling-house of the farmer, and the neat smiling cottage of the labourer, call down on the possessors only the applause and approbation of his landlord, of his neighbours, and of strangers. They raise him in the general opinion. In France, they would prove his ruin.

To conclude these few observations on the state of agriculture, we may remark, that the revolution has certainly tended greatly to promote the extension of the cultivation, by throwing the property of the lands into the hands of the peasantry, who are the actual cultivators, and also by removing the obstructions occasioned by the seignorial rights, the titles, game laws, corveès; yet I think there cannot be a doubt, that, aided by capital, and by the more liberal ideas of superior farmers benefiting by the many new and interesting discoveries in modern agriculture, France might, without that terrible convulsion, have shewn as smiling an aspect, and the science of agriculture been much further advanced.

If, by the revolution, the situation of the peasantry be improved, we must not forget, on the other hand, that to effect this improvement, the nobility, gentry, yeomanry, and, we might almost add, farmers, have been very generally reduced to beggary. The restraint which the existence of these orders ever opposed to the power of a bad king, of a tyrant, or of an adventurer, might have remained, and all have been happier, better, and richer than they are now.

COMMERCE.

It was probably the first wish of Napoleon's heart, as it was also his wisest policy, that the French should become entirely a military, not a commercial nation. Under his government, the commerce of France was nearly annihilated. It was however necessary, that at times he should favour the commercial interest of the towns in the interior, from which he drew large supplies of money, and his constant enmity against the sea-port towns of Marseilles and Bourdeaux, induced him to encourage the interior commerce of France, to the prejudice of the maritime trade of these ports. Under Napoleon, Paris, Lyons, Rouen, and most of the large towns which carried on this interior commerce, were lately in a flourishing state. In these towns, if not beloved, he was at least tolerated, and they wished for no change of government. But at Marseilles, and at Bourdeaux, he was detested, and a very strong royalist party existed, which caused him constant annoyance. At Bourdeaux, it may be recollected, that the Bourbons were received with open arms, and that that town was the first to open its gates to the allies. It was also among the last that held out. I was in that town while the royalist party were still powerful, while every thing shewed a flourishing commerce, while the people were happy; the wine trade was daily enriching the inhabitants, and they blessed the return of peace, and of their lawful princes. In two days the face of things was changed. A party of soldiers, 300 strong, were dispatched by Napoleon, under the command of General Clausel. The troops of the line here, as everywhere else, betrayed their trust, and joined the rebels, and Bourdeaux was delivered up to the spoiler.

Never was there a more melancholy spectacle than that now afforded by the inhabitants of this city. You could not enter a shop where you did not find the owners in tears. We were then all hastening to leave France. They embraced us, and prayed that our army might soon be among them to restore peace and the Bourbons. Here I am convinced that Bonaparte is hated by all but the military. Yet what could a town like Bourdeaux effect, when its own garrison betrayed it?

Besides the bad effects of Bonaparte's policy on the commerce of France, I must notice the wide influence of another cause, which was the natural result of the revolution. Although at first an attack was only made against the noblesse, yet latterly, every rich and powerful family was included among the proscribed, and all the commercial houses of the first respectability were annihilated. These have never been replaced, and the upstart race of petty traders have not yet obtained the confidence of foreigners. The trade of France is therefore very confined; and even were opportunities now afforded of establishing a trade with foreign nations, it would be long before France could benefit by it, from the total want of established and creditable houses.

The manifest signs of the decay of commerce in France cannot escape the observation of the traveller, more especially if he has been in the habit of travelling in England. The public diligences are few in number, and most miserably managed. It is difficult to say whether the carriage, the horses, or the harness, gives most the idea of meanness. Excepting in the neighbourhood of large towns, you meet with not a cart, or waggon, for twenty that the same distance would show in England. The roads are indeed excellent in most parts; but this is not in France, as in most countries, a proof of a flourishing commerce. It is for the conveyance of military stores, and to facilitate the march of the troops, that the police are required to keep the roads in good repair. The villages and towns throughout France, are in a state of dilapidation from want of repair. No new houses, shops, and warehouses building, as we behold every where in England. None of that hurry and bustle in the streets, and on the quays of the sea-port towns, which our blessed country can always boast. The dress of the people, their food, their style of living, their amusements, their houses, all bespeak extreme poverty and want of commerce.

I was at some pains in ascertaining whether, in many of their manufactures, they were likely to rival us or injure our own.—I cannot say I have found one of consequence. There are indeed one or two articles partially in demand among us, in which the French have the superiority; silks, lace, gloves, black broad cloth, and cambric are the chief among them. The woollen cloths in France are extremely beautiful, and the finer sorts, I think, of a superior texture to any thing we have in England; but the price is always double, and sometimes treble of what they sell for at home, so that we have not much to fear from their importations. Few of the French can afford to wear these fine cloths.

French watches are manufactured at about one half of the English price; but the workmanship is very inferior to ours, and unless as trinkets for ladies' wear, they do not seem much in estimation in England. The cutlery in France is wretched. Not only the steel, but the temper and polish, are far inferior to ours. A pair of English razors is, to this day, a princely present in France. Hardware is flimsy, ill finished, and of bad materials. All leather work, such as saddlery, harness, shoes, &c. is wretchedly bad, but undersells our manufactures of the same kind by about one half. Cabinet work and furniture is handsome, shewy, insufficient, and dear. Jewellery equal, if not superior to ours in neatness, but not so sufficient. Hats and hosiery very indifferent. In glass ware we greatly excel the French, except in the manufacture of mirrors. Musical instruments of all descriptions are made as well, and at half the English price, in France. In every thing else, not here mentioned, as far as my memory serves me, I think I may report the manufactures of France greatly inferior to those in England. I have sometimes heard it stated, that in the manufacture of calicoes, muslins, and other cotton goods, the French are likely to rival us. On this subject I was not able to obtain the information I wished for, but one fact I can safely mention, the price of all these goods is at present, in most parts of France, nearly double what it is in England or Scotland, and their machinery is not to be compared with our own.

WEALTH OF THE NATION AND ITS DIVISION.

To the traveller in France, every thing seems to denote extreme poverty, and that extending its influence over all ranks of society; and certainly, compared with England, France is wretchedly poor. But many of its resources remain hidden, and it is certain, that on the demands of its despotic ruler, France produced unlooked-for supplies. His wars have now greatly exhausted this hidden treasure, and there is, fortunately for the peace of the world, very little money left in the country. The marks of the wealth of the country, both absolutely, and in relation to other countries, are to be found in the manner of living, and extent of fortunes of its inhabitants; in the size, comfort, and style of their houses; in their dress and amusements; in the price of labour; the salaries of office; the trade and commerce of the country; the number of country houses, of banks, &c. In examining each of these heads, we shall find that France is a very poor country.

The sum of two thousand pounds a-year is reckoned a noble fortune in France, and very, very few, there are that possess that sum.

One thousand pounds a-year constitutes a handsome fortune for a gentleman; and four hundred for abourgeois, or for one employed in trade or commerce. Few of the nobility are now possessed of fortunes sufficient to maintain a carriage; and none under the rank of princes, in France, havenowmore than one carriage.

The style of living is wretched: only the first, and richest houses, can afford to entertain company, and those but seldom. It requires a large fortune to maintain a regular cook; in half the houses they have only a dirty scullion, who, among her other work, cooks the dinner. In the other half, a traiteur sends in the dinner; or if a bachelor, the master of the house dines at atable d'hôte, as apensionaire.

The interior management of the French houses denotes extreme poverty. Some few articles of splendid furniture are displayed for shew in one or two rooms, while the rest of the house is shut up, and left dirty and ill furnished.

Of their dress and amusements I have already said enough, to shew that they denote poverty, and I shall say more when I come to the French character.

The price of labour is far lower than what we are used to, fluctuating from fifteen to twenty pence a-day. The salaries of office are, throughout France, not above one-third what they are in England. Of the want of trade and commerce I have already spoken. The public banks are very few in number, and only to be found in very large and commercial towns. Country houses and fine estates, there are none, or where they are found, it is in a state of dilapidation.

Where, then, is the wealth of France? I was at some pains to solve this question. The remaining wealth of France is divided among the generals of Napoleon; the army furnishers and contractors; the prefects, sub-prefects; the numerous receivers and collectors of taxes; and, lastly, but chiefly, the peasantry. It may appear strange to those who are not acquainted with the present state of France, that I have mentioned the peasants among the richest; but I am convinced of the fact. The peasants in France have divided among themselves the lands and property of the emigrants. Napoleon drew supplies from them; but very politically maintained them in their possessions. Their condition, and the condition of the lands, shew them to be in easy circumstances. They are well clothed, and abundantly, though poorly fed.

France is, in fine, a very poor country, compared with our own; but it is not without resources, and its wealth will remain concealed as long as it is under Napoleon; for whoever shewed wealth, was by him marked out as an object of plunder. By allowing unlimited power to his emissaries and spies, he was able to discover where the wealth lay, and by vesting the same power in his prefects, sub-prefects, receivers, and gend'armes, he seized on it when discovered. In the public prints, previous to his downfall, we may observe almost continually the thanks of Government to the farmers, proprietors, and others, fortheir patriotic exertions in supplying horses, grain, &c.In these cases, thepatriotic farmershad bands of gend'armerie stationed over them, who drove away their horses, their cattle and grain, without the hope even of payment or redress of any kind. Nothing denotes more the poverty of the country, than the want of horses, of cows, and all kinds of live stock.

In no country in the world is there found so great a number of beggars as in France; and yet there are not wanting in every town establishments for the maintenance of the poor. These beggars are chiefly from among the manufacturing classes; the families of soldiers and labourers. The peasants are seldom reduced to this state, or when reduced, they are succoured by their fellow peasants, and do not beg publicly. The national poverty has had the worst effects on the French character; in almost every station in life they will be found capable of meanness. What can be more disgusting, than to see people of fashion and family reduced to the necessity of letting to strangers their own rooms, and retiring into garrets and other dirty holes—demanding exorbitant prices, and with perfect indifference taking half or a third—higgling for every article they purchase—standing in dirty wrappers at their doers, seeing the wood weighed in the street, on terms of familiarity with tradesmen and their own servants. All this you see in France daily; but on this subject I have elsewhere made observations.

As connected with this part of the subject, a few words must be said on the condition of the towns and villages; for although I had at first intended to treat this, and the situation of the different ranks, as separate subjects; yet they seem to come in more naturally at present, when speaking of the wealth of France and its division. The towns throughout France, as well as the villages, particularly in the south, have an appearance of decay and dilapidation. The proprietors have not the means of repair. It is customary (I suppose from the heat of the climate), to build the houses very large; to repair a French house, therefore, is very expensive: and it will generally be seen, that in most, houses only one or two rooms are kept in repair, and furnished, while the rest of the house is crumbling to pieces. This is the case with all the great houses; in those of the common people we should expect more comfort, as they are small, and do not need either expensive repair or gay furniture; but comfort is unknown in France. On entering a small house in one of the villages, we find the people huddled together as they are said to do in some parts of England and Scotland. Men, women, dogs, cats, pigs, goats, &c.—no glass in the windows—doors shattered—truckle-beds—a few earthen pots; and with all this filth, we find, perhaps, half a dozen velvet or brocade covered chairs; a broken mirror, or a marble slab-table; these are the articles plundered in former days of terror and revolution. All caffés and hotels in the villages are thus furnished.

The streets in almost every town in France are without pavement. Would any one believe, that in the great city, as the French call it, there is a total want of this convenience? On this subject, Mercier, in his Tableaux de Paris, has this remark:[42]"Dès qu'on est sur le pavè de Paris, ou voit que le peuple n'y fait pas les loix;—aucune commoditè pour les gens de pied—point de trottoirs—le peuple semble un corps separè des autres ordres de l'etat—les riches et les grands qui ont equipage ont le droit de l'ecraser ou de le mutiler dans les rues—cent victimes expirent par annee sous les rues des voiture."

Besides the want of pavement to protect us from the carriages, and to keep our feet dry, we have to encounter the mass of filth and dirt, which the nastiness of the inhabitants deposits, and which the police suffers to remain. The state of Edinburgh in its worst days, as described by our English neighbours, was never worse than what you meet with in France. The danger of walking the streets at night is very great, and the perfumes of Arabia do not prevail in the morning.

The churches in all the villages are falling to ruin, and in many instances are converted into granaries, barracks, and hospitals; manufacturing establishments are also in ruins, scarcely able to maintain their workmen; their owners have no money for the repair of their buildings. The following description of the changes that have taken place in the French villages, is better than any thing I can give; and from what I have seen, it is perfectly correct:

[43]"Avant la revolution, le village se composait de quatre mille habitans. Il fournissait pour sa part, au service general de l'Eglise et des hopitaux, ainsi qu'aux besoins de l'instruction cinq eclesiastiques, deux sœurs de la charité, et trois maitres d'ecol. Ces derniers sont remplacé par un maitre d'equitation, un maitre de dessin et deux maitres de musique. Sur huit fabriques d'etoffes de laisne et de coton, il ne reste plus qu'une seule. En revanche il s'est etabli deux caffés, un tabaque, un restaurat, et un billiard qui prosperent d'une maniere surprenante. On comptait autrefois quarante charretiers de labour; vingt-cinq d'entre eux sont devenus couriers, piqueurs, et cochès. Ce vuide est remplie par autant de femmes, qui dirigent la charette et qui pour se delasser de tems en tems menent au marché des voitures de paille ou de charbon. Le nombre de charpentiers, de maçons, et d'autres artisans est diminué à peu pres de moitie. Mais le prix de tout les genres de main d'œuvre ayant aussi augmenté de moitie—cela revient au meme—et la compensation se retablit. Une espece d'individus que le village fournit en grande abondance, et dans des proportions trop fortes ce sont les domestiques de luxe et de livrée. Pour peu que cela dure on achevera de depeupler le campagne de gens utiles qui le cultivent pour peupler les villes d'individus oisifs et corrompus. Beaucoup de femmes et de jeunes filles, qui n'etaient que des couturiers, et des servantes de femmes, ont aussi trouvè de l'avancement dans la capitale, et dans les grandes villes. Elles sont devenues femmes de chambre—brodeuses—et marchandes des modes. On dirait que le luxe a entreprit de pomper la jeunesse; toutes les idèes et tous les regards sont tournès vers lui à aucun epoque anterieure le contingent du village en hommes de loi—huissiers—etudiants en droits, mediçins, poetes et artistes, ne s'etait eleve au dela de trois ou quatre; il s'eleve maintenant à soixante deux, et une chose qu'on n'aurait jamais su imaginer autrefois c'est qu'il y a dans le nombre autant de peintres, de poetes, de comediens, de danseuses de theatre et de musiciens ambulans, qu'une ville de quatre vingt mille hommes aurait pu en fournir il y a trente ou quarante ans."

Another mark of the poverty of France at present occurs to me: In every town, but particularly in the large cities, we are struck with numbers of idle young men and women who are seen in the streets. Now that the army no longer carries away the "surplus population of France," (to use the language of Bonaparte), the number of these idlers is greatly increased. The great manufacturing concerns have long ceased to employ them. France is too poor to continue the public works which Napoleon had every where begun. The French have no money for the improvement of their estates, the repair of their houses, or the encouragement of the numerous trades and professions which thrive by the costly taste and ever-varying fashion of a luxurious and rich community. Being on the subject of taste and fashion, I must not forget that I noticed the dress and amusements of the French as offering a mark of their poverty. The great meanness of their dress must particularly strike every English traveller; for I believe there is no country in the world where all ranks of people are so well dressed as in England. It is not indeed astonishing to see the nobility, the gentry, and those of the liberal professions well clothed, but to see every tradesman, and every tradesman's apprentice, wearing the same clothes as the higher orders; to see every servant as well, if not better clothed than his master, affords a clear proof of the riches of a country. In the higher ranks among the French, a gentleman has indeed a good suit of clothes, but these are kept for wearing in the evening on the promenade, or at a party. In the morning, clothes of the coarsest texture, and often much worn, or even ragged, are put on. If you pay a lady or gentleman a morning visit, you find them so metamorphosed as scarcely to be known; the men in dirty coarse cloth great coats, wide sackcloth trowsers and slippers; the women in coarse calico wrappers, with a coloured handkerchief tied round their hair. All the little gaudy finery they possess is kept for the evening, but even then there is nothing either costly or elegant, or neat, as with us. In their amusements also is the poverty of the people manifested. A person residing in Paris, and who had travelled no further, would think that this observation was unjust, for in Paris there is no want of amusements; the theatres are numerous, and all other species of entertainment are to be found. But in the smaller towns, one little dirty theatre, ill lighted, with ragged scenery, dresses, and a beggarly company of players, is all that is to be found. The price of admittance is also very low. The poverty of the people will not admit of the innumerable descriptions of amusements which we find in every little town in England: amateur concerts are sometimes got up, but for want of funds they seldom last long. My subscription to one of these at the town where we resided, was five francs per month, or about a shilling each concert. This may be taken as a specimen of the price of French amusements.

STATE OF RELIGION.

Theorder of the priesthood in France had suffered greatly in the revolution. They were everywhere scouted and reviled, either for being supporters of the throne, or for being rich, or for beingmoderès. Napoleon found them in this condition; he never more than tolerated them, and latterly, by his open attack and cruel treatment of their chief, he struck the last and severest blow against the church. Unable to bear the insults of the military, deprived of the means of support, many of the clergy either emigrated or concealed themselves. In the principal towns, indeed, the great establishments took the oath of allegiance to the tyrant; but the inferior clergy and the country curates met nowhere with encouragement, and were allowed to starve, or to pick up a scanty pittance by teaching schools in a community who laughed at education, at morality, and religion.

Many of the churches, convents, and monasteries were demolished; many were converted into barracks, storehouses, and hospitals. We saw butonevillage church in our travels through France, and even in the larger towns we found the places of public worship in a state of dilapidation. I went to see the palace of the Archbishop at Aix; out of a suite of most magnificent rooms, about 30 in number,one miserable little chamber was furnished for his highness. In the rest, the grandeur of former days was marked by the most beautiful tapestry on some part of the walls, while other parts had been laid bare and daubed over with caps of liberty, and groupes of soldiers and guillotines, and indecent inscriptions. The nitches for statues, and the frames of pictures, were seen empty. The objects which formerly filled them were dashed to pieces or burnt.


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