CHAPTER VIII. - PARIS—THE FRENCH ARMY AND IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT.

It is certainly a mistake to suppose, that the military power of France was first created by Napoleon, or that military habits were actually forced on the people, with the view of aiding his ambitious projects. The French have a restless, aspiring, enterprising spirit, not accompanied, as in England, by a feeling of individual importance, and a desire of individual independence, but modified by habits of submission to arbitrary power, and fitted, by the influence of despotic government, for the subordination of military discipline. Add to this, the encouragement which was held out by the rapid promotion of soldiers during the wars of the revolution, when the highest military offices were not only open to the attainment, but were generally appropriated to the claims of men who rose from the ranks; and the general dissemination, at that period, of an unbounded desire for violence and rapine: And it will probably be allowed, that the spirit of the French nation, at the time when he came to the head of it, was truly and almost exclusively military. He was himself a great soldier; he rose to the supreme government of a great military people, and he availed himself of their habits and principles to gratify his ambition, and extend his fame; but he ought not to be charged with having created the spirit, which in fact created him; a spirit so powerful, and so extensively diffused, that in comparison with it, even his efforts might be said to be "dashing with his oar to hasten the cataract;" to be "waving with his fan to give speed to the wind." The favourite saying of Napoleon, "Every Frenchman is a soldier, and as such, at the disposal of the Emperor," expresses a principle which was not merely enforced by arbitrary power, but engrafted on the character and habits of the French people.

The French are certainly admirably fitted for becoming soldiers: they have a restless activity, which surmounts difficulties, a buoyancy and elasticity of disposition, which rises superior to hardships, and calamities, and privations, not with patient fortitude, but with ease and cheerfulness. A Frenchman does not regard war, merely as the serious struggle in which his patriotism and valour are to be tried; he loves it for its own sake, for the interest and agitation it gives to his mind; it is his "game,—his gain,—his glory,—his delight." Other nations of Europe have become military, in consequence of threats or injuries, of the dread of hostile invasion, of the presence of foreign armies, or the galling influence of foreign power; but if the origin of the French military spirit may be traced to similar sources, it must at least be allowed, that the effect has been out of all proportion to the cause.


It is probable, however, that the effervescence of military ideas and feelings, which arose out of the revolution, would have gradually subsided, had it not been for the fostering influence of the imperial government. The turbulent and irregular energies of a great people let loose from former bonds, received a fixed direction, and were devoted to views of military ascendancy and national aggrandizement under Napoleon. The continued gratification of the French vanity, by the fame of victories and the conquest of nations, completed the effect on the manner and habits of the people, which the events of the revolution had begun. Napoleon well knew, that in flattering this ruling propensity, he took the whole French nation on their weak side, and he had some reason for saying, that their thirst for martial glory and political influence ought to be a sufficient apology to them for all the wars into which he plunged them.

It is impossible to spend even a few days in France without seeing strong indications of the prevailing love of military occupations, and admiration of military merit. The common peasants in the fields shew, by their conversation, that they are deeply interested in the glory of the French arms, and competent to discuss the manner in which they are conducted. In the parts of the country which had been the seat of war, we found them always able to give a good general description of the military events that had taken place; and when due allowance was made for their invariable exaggeration of the number of the allied troops, and concealment of that of the French, these accounts, as far as we could judge by comparing them with the official details, and with the information of officers who had borne a part in the campaign, were tolerably correct. The fluency with which they talked of military operations, of occupying positions, cutting off retreats, defiling over bridges, debouching from woods, advancing and retreating, marching and bivouacking, shewed the habitual current of their thoughts; and they were always more willing to enter on the details of such operations, than to enumerate their own losses, or dwell on their individual sufferings.

A similar eagerness to enter into conversation on military subjects, was observable in almost all Frenchmen of the lower orders, with whom we had any dealings. Our landlord at Paris, a quiet sickly man, who had no connection with the army, and who had little to say for himself on most subjects, displayed a marvellous fluency on military tactics; and seemed to think that no time was lost which was employed in haranguing to us on the glory and honour of the French army, and impressing on our minds its superiority to the allies.

Indeed, the whole French nation certainly take a pride in the deeds of their brethren in arms, which absorbs almost all other feelings; and which is the more singular, as it does not appear to us to be connected with strong or general affection or gratitude for any particular individual. It was not the fame of any one General but the general honour of the French arms, about which they seemed anxious. We never met with a Frenchman, of any rank, or of any political persuasion, who considered the French army as fairly overcome in the campaign of 1814; and the shifts and contrivances by which they explained all the events of the campaign, without having recourse to that supposition, were wonderfully ingenious. The best informed Frenchmen whom we met in Paris, even those who did not join in the popular cry of treason and corruption against Marmont, regarded the terms granted by Alexander to their city, as a measure of policy rather than of magnanimity. They uniformly maintained, that the possession of the heights of Belleville and Montmartre did not secure the command of Paris: that if Marmont had chosen, he might have defended the town after he had lost these positions; and that, if the Russians had attempted to take the town by force, they might have succeeded, but would have lost half their army. Indeed, so confidently were these propositions maintained by all the best informed Frenchmen, civil or military, royalist of imperialist, whom we met, that we were at a loss whether to give credit to the statement uniformly given us by the allied officers, that the town was completely commanded by those heights, and might have been burnt and destroyed, without farther risk on the part of the assailants, after they were occupied. The English officers, with whom we had an opportunity of conversing on this subject, seemed divided in opinion regarding it; and we should have hesitated to which party to yield our belief, had not the conduct of Napoleon and his officers in the campaign of the present year, the extraordinary precautions which they took to prevent access to the positions in question, by laying the adjacent country under water, and fortifying the heights themselves, clearly shewn the importance, in a military point of view, which is really attached to them.

The credulity of the French, in matters connected with the operations of their armies, often astonished us. It appeared to arise, partly from the scarcity of information in the country; from their having no means of confirming, correcting, or disproving the exaggerated and garbled statements which were laid before them; and partly from their national vanity, which disposed them to yield a very easy assent to every thing that exalted their national character. In no other country, we should conceive, would such extravagant and manifestly exaggerated statements be swallowed, as the French soldiers are continually in the habit of dispersing among their countrymen. From the style of the conversation which we were accustomed to hear at caffés and tables d'hôte, we should conceive, that the French bulletins, which appeared to us such models of gasconade, were admirably well fitted, not merely to please the taste, but even to regulate the belief, or at least the professions of belief, of the majority of French politicians, with regard to the events they commemorate.

The general interest of a nation in the deeds and honours of its army, is the best possible security for its general conduct; and it must be admitted, that in those qualities which are chiefly valued by the French nation, the French army was never surpassed; while it is equally obvious, that both the army and the people have at present little regard for some of the finest virtues which can adorn the character of soldiers.

The grand characteristic of the French army, on which both the soldiers and the people pride themselves, is what was long ago ably pointed out by the author of the "Caractere des Armées Europeennes Actuelles"—the individual intelligence and activity of the soldiers. They were taken at that early age, when the influence of previous habit is small, and when the character is easily moulded into any form that is wished; they were accustomed to pride themselves on no qualities, but those which are serviceable against their enemies, and they had before them the most animating prospect of rewards and promotion, if their conduct was distinguished. Under these circumstances, the native vigour, and activity, and acuteness of their minds, took the very direction which was likely, not merely to make them good soldiers, but to fit them for becoming great officers; and this ultimate destination of his experience, and ability, and valour, has a very manifest effect on the mind of the French soldier. We hardly ever spoke to one of them, of any rank, about any of the battles in which he had been engaged, without observing, that he had in his head a general plan of the action, which he always delivered to us with perfect fluency, in the technical language of war, and with quite as much exaggeration as was necessary for his purpose. What he wanted in correct information, he would assuredly make up with lies, but he would seldom fail to give a general consistent idea of the affair; and it was obvious, that the manœuvres of the armies, and the conduct of the generals, on both sides, had occupied as much of his consideration and reflection, as his own individual dangers and adventures.

When we afterwards entered into conversation with some English private soldiers, at Brussels and Antwerp, concerning the actions they had seen, we perceived a very marked difference. They were very ready to enter into details concerning all that they had themselves witnessed, and very anxious to be perfectly correct in their statements; but they did not appear ever to have troubled their heads about the general plan of the actions. They had abundance of technical phrases concerning their own departments of the service; but very few words relative to the manœuvring of large bodies of men. Their rule seemed to be, to do their own duty, and let their officers do theirs; the principle of the division of labour seemed to prevail in military, as well as in civil affairs, much more extensively in England than in France.

The soldiers of the French imperial guard, in particular, are remarkably intelligent, and in general very communicative. We entered into conversation with some of these men at La Fere, and from one of them, who had been in the great battle at Laon, we had fully as distinct an account of that action as we are able to collect, the next day, from several officers who accompanied us from St Quentin to Cambray, and who had likewise been engaged in it. When we asked him the numbers of the two armies on that day, he replied without the least hesitation, that the allied army was 100,000 and the French 30,000.—Another of these men had been at Salamanca, and after we had granted his fundamental assumption, that the English army there was 120,000 strong, and the French 40,000, he proceeded to give us a very good account of the battle.

These men, as well as almost all the French officers and soldiers with whom we had opportunities at different times of conversing, gave their opinions of the allied armies without any reserve, and with considerable discrimination. Of the Russians and Prussians they said, "Ils savent bien faire la guerre; ils sont de bons soldats;" but of the common soldiers of these services in particular, they said, "Ils sont tres forts, et durs comme l'ame du diable—mais ils sont des veritables betes; ils n'ont point d'intelligence. La puissance de l'armée Française," they added, with an air of true French gasconade, "est dans l'intelligence des soldats."—Of the Austrians, they said, "Ils brillent dans leur cavalerie, mais pour leur infanterie, elle ne vaut rien."

From these soldiers we could extract no more particular character of the English troops, than "Ils se battent bien," But it is doing no more than justice to the French officers, even such as were decidedly imperialist, who conversed with us at Paris, and in different parts of the country, to acknowledge that they uniformly spoke in the highest terms of the conduct of the English troops. The expression which they very commonly used, in speaking of the manner in which the English carried on the war in Spain, and in France, was, "loyauté." "Les Russes, et les Prussiens," they said, "sont des grands et beauxhommes, mais ils n'ont pas le cœur ou la loyauté des Anglais. Les Anglais sont la nation du monde qui font la guerre avec le plus de loyauté," &c. This referred partly to their valour in the field, and partly to their humane treatment of prisoners and wounded; and partly also to their honourable conduct in France, where they preserved the strictest discipline, and paid for every thing they took. Of the behaviour of the English army in France, they always spoke as excellent:—"digne de leur civilization."

A French officer who introduced himself to us one night in a box at the opera, expressing his high respect for the English, against whom, he said, he had the honour to fight for six years in Spain, described the steadiness and determination of the English infantry in attacking the heights on which the French army was posted at Salamanca, in terms of enthusiastic admiration. Another who had been in the battle of Toulouse, extolled the conduct of the Highland regiments in words highly expressive of

"The stern joy which warriors feel,
In foemen worthy of their steel."

"Il y a quelques regimens des Ecossais sans culottes," said he, "dans l'armée de Wellington, qui se battent joliment." He then described the conduct of one regiment in particular, (probably the 42d or 79th), who attacked a redoubt defended with cannon, and marched up to it in perfect order; never taking the muskets from their shoulders, till they were on the parapet: "Si tranquillement,—sacre Dieu! c'etoit superbe."

Of the military talents of the Duke of Wellington they spoke also with much respect, though generally with strong indications of jealousy. They were often very ingenious in devising means of explaining his victories, without compromising, as they called it, the honour of the French arms. At Salamanca, they said, that in consequence of the wounds of Marmont and other generals, their army was two hours without a commander. At Vittoria again, it was commanded by Jourdan, and any body could beat Jourdan. At Talavera, he committed "les plus grandes sottises du monde; il a fait une contre-marche digne d'un bete." Some of the Duke of Wellington's victories over Soult they stoutly denied, and others they ascribed to great superiority of numbers, and to the large drafts of Soult's best troops for the purpose of forming skeleton battalions, to receive the conscripts of 1813.

The French pride themselves greatly on the honour of their soldiers, and in this quality they uniformly maintain that they are unrivalled, at least on the continent of Europe. To this it is easy to reply, that, according to the common notions of honour, it has been violated more frequently and more completely by the French army than by any other. But this is in fact eluding the observation rather than refuting it. The truth appears to be, that the French soldiers have a stronger sense of honour than those of almost any other service; but that the officers, having risen from the ranks, have brought with them to the most exalted stations, no more refined or liberal sentiments than those by which the private soldiers are very frequently actuated; and have, on the contrary, acquired habits of duplicity and intrigue, from which their brethren in inferior situations are exempt.

When we say of the French soldiers that they have a strong sense of honour, we mean merely to express, that they will encounter dangers, and hardships, and privations, and calamities of every kind, with wonderful fortitude, and even cheerfulness, from no other motive than an esprit du corps—a regard for the character of the French arms. Without provocation from their enemies, without the prospect of plunder, without the hope of victory, without the conviction of the interest of their country in their deeds, without even the consolation of expecting care or attention in case of wounds or sickness,—they will not hesitate to lavish their blood, and sacrifice their lives, for the glory of France. Other troops go through similar scenes of suffering and danger with equal fortitude, when under the influence of strong passions, when fired by revenge, or animated by the hope of plunder, or cheered by the acclamations of victory; but with the single exception of the British army, we doubt whether there are any to whom the mere spirit of military honour is of itself so strong a stimulus.

We have already noticed the state of the French sick and wounded, left in the hospitals at Wilna during the retreat from Russia; a state so deplorable, as to have excited the strongest commiseration among their indignant enemies. This, however, was but a single instance of the system almost uniformly acted on, we have understood, by the French medical staff in Russia, Germany, and Spain, of deserting their hospitals on the approach of the enemy, so as to leave to him, if he did not chuse to see the whole of the patients perish before his eyes, the burden of maintaining them. The miseries which this system must have occasioned, in the campaign of 1813 in particular, require no illustration.

Another regulation of the French army, during the campaign of that year, will shew the utter carelessness of its leaders, in regard to the lives or comforts of the soldiers. When the men who were incapacitated for service by wounds or disease, were sent back to France, they were directed, in the first instance, to Mentz, where their uniforms, and any money they might have about them, were regularly taken from them, and given to the young conscripts who were passing through to join the armies; they were then dressed in miserable old rags, which were collected in the adjacent provinces by Jews employed for that purpose, and in this state they were sent to beg their way to their homes. Such, as we were assured by some of our countrymen, who saw many of these men passing through Verdun, was the reward of thousands of the "grande nation" who had lost their limbs or their health in vainly endeavouring to maintain the glory and influence of their country in foreign states. In the campaign of 1814, which was carried on during the continuance of a frost of almost unprecedented intensity, and in so rapid and variable a manner, and with so large bodies of troops, as to prevent the establishment of regular hospitals or of any thing like a regular Commissariat, the French troops, particularly the young conscripts and national guards, suffered dreadfully; and numbers of them who escaped the swords of their enemies, perished miserably or were disabled for life, in consequence of hardships, and fatigues, and privations.

All these examples were known to the French soldiers—they took place daily before their eyes, and, in the last instance, the allies took pains to let them know, that the only obstacle to honourable peace was the obstinacy of their commander; yet their ardour continued unabated; the young soldiers displayed a degree of valour in every action of both campaigns, which drew forth the warm applause even of their enemies; and it is not to be doubted, that the troops whom Napoleon collected at Fontainbleau, at the end of the campaign in France, were enthusiastically bent on carrying into effect the frantic resolution of attacking Paris, then occupied by a triple force of the allies, from which his officers with difficulty dissuaded him.

In like manner, there is probably no general but Napoleon, who would not have attempted to terminate the miseries of the army during the retreat from Moscow, by entering into negotiation with the Russians; nor is there any army but the French which would have tamely consented to be entirely sacrificed to the obstinacy of an individual. But to have concluded a convention with the Russians would have been compromising the honour of the French arms; and this little form of words seemed to strike more terror to the hearts of the French soldiers, than either the swords of the Russians, or the dreary wastes and wintry storms of Russia, which might have been apostrophised in the words of the poet,

"Alas! even your unhallowed breath
May spare the victim fallen low,
But man will ask no truce to death,
No bounds to human woe."

"He saw, without emotion, (says Labaume), the miserable remains of an army, lately so powerful, defile before him; yet his presence never excited a murmur; on the contrary, it animated even the most timid, who were always tranquil when in presence of the emperor." At the present moment, from all the accounts that we have received, as well as from our own observations of those French soldiers whom we have ourselves seen after their return from Moscow, the sentiments of the survivors of that expedition with regard to Napoleon remained unchanged; and no person who has read any of the narratives of the campaign can ascribe their constancy to any other cause, than that feeling of attachment to the glory of their country, to which the French, however improperly, give the name of military honour.

If the character of the French soldiers is deserving of high admiration for their constancy and courage, it must be observed, on the other hand, that there is a mixture of selfishness in it, an utter disregard of the feelings, and indifference as to the sufferings, not merely of their enemies, or of the inhabitants of the countries which they traverse, but even of their best friends and companions, which forbids us to go farther in their praise. It is as unnecessary, as it would be painful, to enter on an enumeration of the instances of wanton cruelty, violence, and rapacity, which have sullied the fame of their most brilliant deeds in arms. It will be long before the French name will recover the disgrace which the remembrance of such scenes as Moscow, or Saragossa, or Tarragona, has attached to it, in every country of Europe; and it is impossible to have a more convincing proof of the tyrannical and oppressive conduct of the French armies in foreign states, than the universal enthusiasm with which Europe has risen against them,—the indignant and determined spirit with which all ranks of every country have united to rid themselves of an oppression, not less galling to their individual feelings, than degrading to their national character. But it is particularly worthy of remark, that the latest and most authentic writers in France itself, who have given any account of the French armies, have, noticed selfishness, and disregard of the feelings of their own comrades, as well as of all other persons, as one of the most prominent features of their character. We need only refer to Labaume's book on the expedition to Russia, to Miot's work on the Egyptian campaigns, or to Rocca's history of the war in Spain, for ample proofs of the correctness of this observation. Whether this peculiarity is to be ascribed chiefly to their national character, or to the nature of the services in which they have been engaged, it is not very easy to decide.

The dishonourable conduct of the French officers, particularly of the superior officers, in the present year, is much more easily explained than excused. They had risen from the ranks—they had been engaged all their lives in active and iniquitous services—they had been accustomed to look to success as the best criterion of merit, and to regard attachment to their leaders and their colours, as the only duties of soldiers;—they had never thought seriously on morality or religion—they had been applauded by their countrymen and fellow-soldiers, for actions in direct violation of both—and they had been taught to consider that applause as their highest honour and legitimate reward. Under these circumstances, it is easy to see, that they could have little information with regard to the true interests of France, and that they would regard the most sacred engagements as binding only in so far as general opinion would reprobate the violation of them; and when a strong party shewed itself, in the nation as well as the army, ready to support them and to extol their conduct in rising against the government, that their oaths would have no influence to restrain them. It is to be considered, likewise, that a large proportion of the officers had been originally republicans. They had been engaged in long and active military service, and been elated with military glory; in the multiplicity of their duties, and the intoxication of their success as soldiers, they had ceased to be citizens; but during the repose that succeeded the establishment of the Bourbons, when they again found themselves in the midst of their countrymen, their original political feelings and prejudices returned, embittered and exasperated by the influence of their military habits, and the remembrance of their military disgraces. We have ourselves conversed with several officers, who were strongly attached to Napoleon, but whose political views were decidedly republican; and have heard it stated, that the officers of artillery and engineers are supposed to be particularly democratic in their principles.

It is much easier to account for the conduct of the French army since the dethronement of Napoleon, than to point out any means by which that conduct could have been altered. It was stated to us at Paris, that the number of military officers to be provided for by government, was upwards of 60,000. These would certainly comprise a very large proportion of the talents and enterprise of the French nation. The number of them that can have been sincerely devoted to the Bourbons, or that can have been otherwise disposed of since that time, cannot be great; nor do we see by what means it will be possible to reconcile the majority of this very important class of men, to a government which has twice owed its elevation to the discomfiture and humiliation of the French arms.

It may be easily conceived, that in an army, the officers of which have, for the most part, risen from the ranks, the principles of strict military subordination cannot be enforced with the same punctilious rigour as in services where a marked distinction is constantly kept up between officers and soldiers. There is a more gradual transition from the highest to the lowest situations of the French army—a more complete amalgamation of the whole mass, than is consistent with the views of other governments in the maintenance of their standing armies.

It is true, that a change has taken place in the composition of the French army, in this respect, under the imperial government. A number of military schools were established and encouraged in different parts of the country, and a great number of young men were sent to these by their parents, under the understanding, that after being educated in them they should become officers at once, without passing through the inferior steps, to which they would otherwise have been devoted by the conscription. A great number of officers, therefore, have of late years been appointed from these schools to the army, who have never served in the ranks; but the manners and habits which they acquire at the schools are, we should conceive, very little superior to what they might have learnt from the private soldiers, who would otherwise have been their associates. A comparison of the appearance and manner of the pupils of the Ecole Militaire, with those of the young men at the English military colleges, would shew, as strongly as any other parallel that could be drawn, the difference in respectability and gentlemanlike feeling between the English and French officers.

There is so little of uniformity in dress, of regard to external appearance, or of shew of subordination, and inferiority to their officers, in the French soldiers, that a stranger would be apt to consider them as deficient in discipline. The fact is, that they know perfectly, from being continually engaged in active service, what are the essentials of military discipline, and that they are quite careless of all superfluous forms. Whatever regulations are necessary, in any particular circumstances, are strictly enforced; and the men submit to them, not from any principle of slavish subjection to their officers, but rather from deference to their superior intelligence and information, and from a regard to the good of the service.

The French army may, in fact, be said to have little of the feelings which are truly military. The officers have not the strong feeling of humanity, and the high and just sense of honour, not merely as members of the army, but as individuals; the soldiers have not the habit of implicit obedience and attachment to their peculiar duties; and the whole have not the lively sense of responsibility to their country, and dependence on their sovereign, which are probably essential to the existence of an army which shall not be dangerous, even to the state that maintains it. The French army submitted implicitly to Napoleon, because he was their general; but we should doubt if they ever considered themselves, even under his dominion, as the servants of France. They appear, at present, at least, to think themselves an independent body, who have a right to act according to their own judgment, and are accountable to nobody for their actions. In this idea of their own importance they were, of course, encouraged by Napoleon, who, on his return from Elba, spoke of the injuries done by the Bourbons to the army and people, and assigned the former the most honourable place in his Champ de Mai. And it will appear by no means surprising, that they should have acquired these sentiments, when we consider the importance which has been attached to their exploits by their countrymen, the encouragement to which they have been accustomed, the preference to all other classes of men which was shewn them by the late government, and the nature of the services in which they have been engaged, and for which they have been rewarded; circumstances fitted to assimilate them, in reality as well as appearance, rather to an immense band of freebooters, having no principle but union among themselves, and submission to their chiefs, than to an established and responsible standing army.

This observation applies to the feelings and principles of the soldiers taken as a body, not to their individual habits; for, excepting in the case of the detachment of the imperial guard, quartered at Fontainbleau, we never understood that the French soldiers in time of peace, at least among their own countrymen, were accused of outrage or rapine.

There is considerable variety in the personal appearance of the French soldiers. The infantry are generally little men, much inferior to the Russians and Prussians in size and weight; but as they are almost all young, they appear equally well fitted for bearing fatigues, and they have an activity in their gait and demeanour, which accords well with their general character. In travelling through the country, we could almost always tell a French soldier from one of the allies at a distance, by the spring of his step. They have another excellent quality, that of being easily fed. Nothing appeared to excite more astonishment or indignation in France, than the quantity of food consumed by the allied troops. We found at Paris, that the Russian convalescents, occupying the hospitals which had formerly been appropriated to French troops, actually eat three times the rations which the French had been allowed. Frenchmen of the middling and higher ranks appear to have generally very keen appetites, and often surprise Englishmen by the magnitude and variety of their meals; but the peasantry and lower orders are accustomed to much poorer fare than the corresponding classes, at least in the southern part of our island, and the ordinary diet of the French soldiers is inferior to that of the English. In garrison, they are never allowed animal food, at least when in their own country; and the better living to which they are accustomed in foreign countries, and on active service, is a stronger recommendation of war to these volatile and unreflecting spirits, than it might at first be thought.

The French cavalry are almost universally fine men, much superior to the infantry in appearance. The horses of the chasseurs à cheval, and hussars, are small, but active and hardy; and even those of the cuirassiers have not the weight or beauty of the English heavy dragoons, though we have understood that they bear the fatigues and privations, incident to long campaigns, much better.

The imperial guard was composed, like the Russian guard, of picked men, who had already served a certain length of time, and the pay being higher than of the regiments of the line, and great pains being uniformly taken to preserve them as much as possible, from the hardships and dangers to which the other troops were exposed, and to reserve them for great emergencies, it was at once an honour and a reward to belong to them. We saw a review of the elite of the imperial guard on the 8th of May 1814, in presence of the King of France; the regiments of cavalry, of which a great number passed, were very weak in numbers, but the men were uncommonly fine, and the horses strong and active. The finest regiment of infantry of the old guard, with some pieces of cannon, did not defile before the King, but passed out of the Cour de Carousel by a back way, on account, as we understood, of its having shewn strong symptoms of disgust on the entrance of the King into Paris. That regiment, as well as all the rest of the infantry of the old guard, then called the Grenadiers Français, whom we had ever occasion to see, was composed of the finest men, not merely in point of strength, but of activity and apparent intelligence. The few pieces of artillery of the guard that we saw were in very bad condition, and their equipment particularly mean; but this branch of the service had not then had time to repair the losses it had sustained in the campaign.

The cavalry of the guard appeared to have been the most fashionable service under Napoleon. There were cuirassiers, heavy and light dragoons, chasseurs, hussars, grenadiers à cheval, and lancers of the guard, all of whom had different and splendid uniforms, and presented an uncommonly varied and magnificent appearance when reviewed together. Their magnificence and variety was evidently intended to gratify the taste of the French people for splendid shows, and to attract young men of fortune and expensive habits.

The imperial guard had much more of the air and manner, as well as dress, of regular soldiers, than any other part of the French army; indeed it is impossible to conceive a more martial or imposing figure than that of one of the old grenadiers, (commonly called the vieux moustaches,) in his striking and appropriate costume, armed with his musket and sword, the cross of the legion of honour on his breast, his rough and weather-beaten countenance bearing the impression of the sun of Italy and the snows of Russia, while his keen and restless eye shows, more expressively than words, that he is still "ready, aye ready, for the field."

We thought we could discern in the countenances of the troops of different nations, whom we saw reviewed about this time, the traces of the difference of national character. The general expression of the Russians, we thought, was that of stern obstinate determination; of the Prussians, warm enthusiastic gallantry; of the French, fierce and indignant impetuosity. This may have been fancy, but all who have seen the troops of these different nations, will allow a very striking difference of expression of countenance, as well as of features.

No measure was omitted by Napoleon to secure, the services, in the army, of all who could be of any use in it. The organization of the garde d'honneur was intended to include as large a number as possible of the young men, whose circumstances had enabled them to avoid the conscription. No act of the Imperial Government seemed to have given more general offence in France than the formation of this corps, the number of which was stated to have amounted at one time to 10,000. They were, in the first instance, invited to volunteer, under the assurance that they were to be employed as a guard for Maria Louisa, and under no circumstances to be sent across the Rhine. A maximum and minimum number were fixed for each arrondissement, some number between which was to be made up by voluntary enrolments; but when any deficiency was discovered, as for example in Holland, where the young men were very little disposed to voluntary service in the French army, a balloting immediately took place, and a number greater than the maximum was compelled to come forward. Exemption from this service was impossible; immense sums were offered and refused. They were all mounted, armed, and clothed at their own expense; those who did not chuse to march, were sent off under an escort of gens-d'armes; and all were conducted to the fortresses on the Rhine, were they were regularly drilled. Some of them were induced to volunteer for extended service, by a promise, that after serving one campaign, they should be made officers; and in the course of the campaign of 1813, all of them were brought up to join the army; and these young men, taken only a few weeks before from their families, where many of them had been accustomed to every luxury and indulgence, were compelled to go through all the duties and fatigues of common hussars. Some regiments of them, which were very early brought into action, having misconducted themselves, were immediately disbanded; their horses, arms, and uniforms, were taken from them for the use of the other troops, and they were dismissed, to find the best of their way to their homes. Those who remained were distributed among the different corps of cavalry, and suffered very severely in the campaign in France. We spoke to some of them at Paris, who said they had bivouacked, at one period of the campaign, on snow, fourteen nights successively, and described to us the action at Rheims, one of the last that was fought, where half of their regiment were left on the field. These men complained loudly of the treacherous conduct of Napoleon to them and their brethren of the same corps; yet they expressed their willingness to undergo all their sufferings again, if they could thereby transfer the date of the peace to the other side of the Rhine.

The effect of this measure on the middling and higher ranks was not more oppressive than that of the conscription on the lower ranks, and even on persons in tolerably good circumstances; for we have heard of £.400 Sterling, being twice paid to rescue an individual, whom a third conscription had at length torn from his family. The impression produced in France, however, by either of these measures, cannot be judged of from a comparison with the feelings so often manifested in this country, under circumstances of less aggravated affliction. The same careless, unthinking, constitutional cheerfulness, which is so commendable in those Frenchmen whose sufferings are all personal, displays itself in a darker point of view, when they are called on to sympathise with the sufferings of their friends. It is a disposition, allied indeed to magnanimity on the one hand, but to selfishness on the other. The sufferings of the French on such an occasion as the loss of a near relation, may be acute; but they are of very short duration. In Paris, mourning is at present hardly ever worn. At the time when we were there, although a bloody campaign had only recently been concluded, we did not see above five or six persons in mourning, and even these were not certainly French. We understood it to be a principle all over France, never to wear mourning for a son; but whether this was adopted in compliance with the wishes of Napoleon, as was stated by some, or was general before his time, as others maintained, we were not sufficiently informed.

It may be a question, whether the real, as well as professed motive of the policy of Napoleon, while he directed the affairs of France, was some ill-conceived and absurd idea of the superior happiness and prosperity which France might enjoy, if placed indisputably at the head of the civilized world, and especially if elevated above the rivalship of England; but if the good of France was really his end, it is quite certain that it engaged very little of his attention, and that he occupied himself almost exclusively with regard to the means which he held to be necessary to its attainment. The causes of the wars in which he engaged were of little importance to him; but the immediate object of all of them was the glory and aggrandizement of France; and to this object his whole soul was devoted, and all the energies of the state were directed.

In a general view, the imperial government may be said to have rested on the following foundations.

In the first place, it rested on the principle which was universally acted on, of giving active employment, and animating encouragement, to all men of talents or enterprise—to all whose friendship might be useful, or whose enmity might be dangerous. The conscription carried off the flower of the youthful population; parents were encouraged to send their children; if they shewed any superior abilities, to the military schools, whence they were rapidly promoted in the army. The formation of the garde d'honneur effectually prevented all danger from a numerous class of men, whose circumstances might have enabled them to exert themselves in opposing public measures. In the civil administration of the country, it was the system of Napoleon, from the beginning of his career, to give employment to all who might be dangerous, if their services were not secured. The prefects of towns and arrondissements, were generally men of intelligence and information regarding the characters of the inhabitants; and the persons recommended by them to the immense number of situations in the police, in the collection of taxes, &c. were always men of activity, enterprise, and ability: Birth, education, and moral character, were altogether disregarded, and religious principle was rather considered a fault than a recommendation.

The consequence was, that the young, the bold, the active, the enterprising, the independent, were either attached to the imperial government, or at least prevented from exerting themselves in opposition to it; while those whom family cares, or laborious occupations, or habits of indolence, or want of energy of mind, rendered unfit for resistance to any government, were the only people whose interest it was to resist that of Napoleon.

In the next place, while much was done by these means to secure the support of the most important part of the nation to the imperial government, the most effectual precautions were taken to prevent danger to it, from those whom either principle might lead, or injuries might provoke to disaffection. The police was everywhere so powerful, and the system of espionage so universally extended, that it was almost impossible for different individuals to combine against the government. Without including the hosts of douaniers, who were under the orders of the collectors of taxes, the gens d'armerie, who were at the disposal of the police, and had no other duties to perform, amounted to above 10,000 men, cavalry and infantry, all completely armed and equipped. As soon, therefore, as any individual excited suspicion, there was no difficulty as to his apprehension. The number of police officers was very great, and they were all low born, clever, unprincipled men, perfectly fitted for their situations. The extent and accuracy of the information possessed by them was almost incredible. Indeed, we regard the system of espionage, by which this information was procured, as the most complete and damning proof of the general selfishness and immorality of the French people, of which we have received any account. It was not merely that a number of persons were employed by the police as spies; but that no man could put any confidence even in his best friends and nearest relations. The very essence of the system was the destruction of all confidence between man and man; and its success was such, that no man could venture to express any sentiments hostile to the government, even in the retirement of his own family circle. That sacred sanctuary was every where invaded, not by the strong hand of power, but by the secret machinations of bribery and intrigue.

We were particularly informed, with respect to the establishment of the police in Amsterdam, where the sentiments of the people being known to be averse to French dominion, it was of course made stronger than in less suspicious parts of the country. Within a week after the annexation of Holland to France, the police was in full force, and the spies every where in motion. No servant was allowed to engage himself who had not a certificate from the police, implying his being a spy on his master. At the tables d'hôte, persons were placed to encourage seditious conversation, and those who expressed themselves strongly, were soon after seized and committed to prison. No person could leave Amsterdam, even to go three miles into the country, without a passport from the police, which was granted only to whom they pleased. When a party went out on such an excursion, they were sure to be met by some of the gens d'armerie, who already knew their names and destination, and who fixed the time of their return. From the decisions of the police there was no appeal; and those who were imprisoned by them, (as so many of the inhabitants of Amsterdam were, that it ceased to be any reproach,) had no method of bringing on a trial, or even of ascertaining the crimes of which they were accused. Frequently individuals were transported from one part of the country to another, without any reason being assigned, and set down among strangers, to make their bread as they best could, under the inspection of the police, who instantly arrested them on their attempting to escape. This system was probably more strictly enforced in Holland than over the greater part of France, but its most essential parts were every where the same, and the information, with respect to the private characters and sentiments of individuals, was certainly more easily obtained in France than in Holland.

Such, according to the information of the most intelligent and best informed persons with whom we had an opportunity of conversing, were the principal means by which the power of Napoleon was maintained, and his authority enforced. But it must be owned that he did more than this,—that during the greater part of his reign, he not only commanded the obedience, but obtained the admiration and esteem of the majority of his subjects.

In looking for the causes of this, we shall in vain attempt to discover them in real benefits conferred on France by Napoleon. It is true, that agriculture made some progress during his reign, but this was decidedly owing to the transference of the landed property from nobles and churchmen, to persons really interested in the cultivation of the soil, which had taken place before his time, and not to the empty and ostentatious patronage which he bestowed on it; the best proof of which is, that the main improvement that has taken place has not been, as already observed, in the principles or practice of agriculture, but in the quantity of land under tillage. It is true also, that certain manufactures have been encouraged by the exclusion of the English goods; but this partial increase of wealth was certainly not worth the expense of a year's war, and was heavily counterbalanced by the distress occasioned by his tyrannical decrees in the commercial towns of France, and of the countries which were subjected to her control.

As a single instance of this distress, we may just notice the situation of the city of Amsterdam during the time that Holland was incorporated with France. Out of 200,000 inhabitants of that city, more than one half, during the whole of that time, were absolutely deprived of the means of subsistence, and lived merely on the charity of the remainder, who were, for the most part, unable to engage in any profitable business, all foreign commerce being at an end, and supported themselves therefore on the capital which they had previously acquired; and, lest that capital should escape, two-thirds of the national debt of Holland were struck off by a single decree of Napoleon. The population of the town fell off about 20,000 during the time of its connection with France; the taxes, while the two countries were incorporated, were enormous; the income-tax, which was independent of the droits reunis, or assessed taxes, having been stated to us at one-fifth of every man's income. It was during the pressure of these burdens that the tremendous system of police which we have described was enforced; and to add to the miseries of the unfortunate inhabitants of this and the other commercial towns of Holland, they were not allowed to manifest their sufferings. Every man who possessed or inhabited a house was compelled to keep it in perfect repair; so that even at the time of their liberation, these towns bore no external mark of poverty or decay. The consequence of that decree, however, had been, that persons possessing houses at first lowered their rents, then asked no rents at all; happy to get them off their hands, and throw on the tenants the burden of paying taxes for them and keeping them in repair; and lastly, in many instances, offered sums of money to bribe others to live in their houses, or even accept the property of them.

The taxes of France, under Napoleon, it would have been supposed, were alone sufficient to exasperate the people against them. They were oppressive, not merely from their amount, but especially from the arbitrary power which was granted to the prefects of towns and arrondissements, and their agents, in collecting them. A certain sum was directed to be levied in each district, and the apportioning of this burden on the different inhabitants was left almost entirely to the discretion of these officers.

It is quite obvious, therefore, as we already hinted; that the popularity of Napoleon in France, during at least the greater part of his reign; can be traced to no other source than the national vanity of the French. As they are more fond of shew than of comfort in private life, so their public affections are more easily won by gaudy decorations than by substantial benefits. Napoleon gave them enough of the former; they had victories abroad and spectacles at home—their capital was embellished—their country was aggrandised—their glory was exalted; and if he had continued successful, France would still have continued to applaud and admire him, while she had sons to swell her armies, and daughters to drudge in her fields.

As it was not Napoleon who made the French a military and ambitious people, so it is not his fall alone that can secure the world against the effects of their military and ambitious spirit. It is not merely the removal of him who has so long guided it, but the extinction of the spirit itself that is necessary. The effect of the late events on the active part of the population of France, cannot be accurately judged of in the present moment of irritation and disorder; but whatever government that country may ultimately assume, it may surely be hoped that their experience of unsuccessful and calamitous war has been sufficient to incline them to peace; that they will learn to measure their national glory by a better standard than mere victory or noise; that they will reflect on the true objects, both of political and military institutions, and acknowledge the happiness of the people they govern to be the supreme law of kings, and the blessings of the country they serve to be the best reward of soldiers.

Dieses Kapitel ist Teil des Buches TRAVELS IN FRANCE, DURING THE YEARS 1814-15.