Monday, the 27th.—Having been employed the whole day in searching for ...

Monday, the 27th.—Having been employed the whole day in searching for furnished lodgings, I had no time to ride about and see the town. I shall describe it afterwards.—I saw, however, a little of the manners of some ranks of French society.

After this, I went into the best coffeehouse in the town here, and sat down to read the newspapers. I found in it people of all descriptions—several of a most unprepossessing appearance, and others really like gentlemen. One of the best dressed of these last, decorated with the white cockade and other insignia, and having several rings of precious stones on his fingers, a watch, with a beautiful assortment of seals and other trinkets, was playing at Polish drafts, with an officer, also apparently a gentleman. I entered into conversation with him; and was surprised at his almost immediately offering me his watch, trinkets, and rings for sale. Still I thought this might arise from French manners: I had not a doubt he was a gentleman.—How great was my surprise, when a gentleman from the other side of the room called him by name, and bid him bring a cup of coffee and a glass of liqueur—My friend was one of the waiters of the coffeehouse. Such is the mixture of French society—such is the effect of citizenship.

Our landlord, Mr A——, keeps a retail shop for toys, perfumery, cutlery, and all manner of articles. I did not think that we had given him any encouragement on our fist arrival; but he is now become a pest to us: he honours us with his company at all hours, and comes and seats himself with our other acquaintances, of whatever rank they may be. I have been forced at last to be rude to him, in never asking him to sit down when any one is with us. The physician shakes him by the hand—so does the banker. When I had purchased my horse, our banker spoke to a little mean-looking body, a paper-maker, to buy some corn and hay for it. I was astonished when the banker ended his speech by an affectionate[9] "Adieu, a revoir a souper." I am told, however, that this mixture of ranks, and this condescension on the part of superiors, is only practised at times, and to serve a purpose; and that, although the nobleman will sit down in the kitchen of an inn, and converse familiarly with the servants there, and though he will sit down in a shop, and prattle with the Bourgeoise, yet he keeps his place most proudly in society, inviting and receiving only his equals and superiors. The familiarity of all ranks with their own servants is most disgusting; but, from their poverty, the higher classes must condescend.

Yesterday evening, I had an interesting conversation with Mr L. B. an intelligent and well informed man, of good family, eminent in his profession, and high in the opinion of all the society here; he is a devoted royalist. Among other interesting anecdotes which he related, I can only recollect these:

Bonaparte had got into some scrape at Toulon, where he was well known as a bad and troublesome character; he was arrested, and put under a guard commanded by a near relation of Mr L. B. Barras, then at the height of his power in Paris, not knowing what to do with some of his royalist enemies, sent for Bonaparte, and proposed to him to collect a body of troops, and to fire on the royalists. Jourdan, and many other officers were applied to, but refused so base an employment. Bonaparte willingly accepted it—acquitted himself to Barras's satisfaction, and Barras then offered him the command in Italy, provided he would marry his cast-off mistress, Madame Beauharnois. To this Bonaparte consented. Bonaparte's mother had been, about this time, turned out of the Marseilles Theatre, on account of her bad character; for it was well known, that she subsisted herself and one of her daughters on the beauty of her other daughter. Shortly after Bonaparte's appointment to the Italian army, the same magistrate (the Mayor of Marseilles), who had formerly turned out Madame Bonaparte, perceived her again seated in one of the front boxes; he went up to her, and turned her out. She immediately wrote to her son, and the poor mayor was dismissed. This anecdote is, I find, mentioned by Goldsmith, who refers, in proof of its truth, to the newspapers of the time, in which the conduct, and sentence of the mayor are fully discussed.

Bonaparte, extremely dissipated himself, would yet often correct any propensities of that kind in his relations. Pauline, the Princess Borghese, had formed an attachment for a very handsome young Florentine; he was one night suddenly surprised by Bonaparte's emissaries, put into a carriage, and removed to a great distance, with orders not to return.

One of Bonaparte's relations had formed an attachment to Junot, who was one of the handsomest men in France; Junot was immediately after sent to Portugal, and upon his defeats there, he was disgraced publicly by Bonaparte, and killed himself, it was believed, in a fit of despair.

The Princess Borghese, though vain, fond of dress, of extravagance, and of pleasure of every sort, whether honest or otherwise, has yet a good heart. A cousin of Mr L. B.'s was ordered to join the Garde d'Honneur: One of the last and most cruel acts of Bonaparte, was the constitution of this corps, which was meant to receive the young men of noble or rich families. The mother and relations of this young man were inconsolable, and the sum of money which would have been required as a ransom, was more than they could give; for Bonaparte, well knowing that the better families would rather pay than allow of their sons serving in his guard, had made the price of ransom immense. In their distress, they applied to Mr L. B., who had been at one time of service to the Princess Borghese in his legal capacity, and he paid a visit to the Princess. She received him most kindly, but told him that Bonaparte strictly forbade her interfering in military matters; that she would willingly apply for the situation of a prefect for Mr L. B. but could be of no service to his relation. She was, however, at last prevailed on; she wrote most warmly to her friends, and in three or four days the young man was sent back to his happy family.

The French here date Bonaparte's downfall from the time when he first determined on attacking the power of the Pope. They say that this attack and the Spanish War, were both contrary to the advice of Talleyrand. In a conversation which took place between the Emperor Alexander and Napoleon, Alexander represented his own power as superior to Napoleon's, because he had no Pope to, controul him; and Bonaparte then replied, that "he would shew him and the world that the Pope was nobody."

Our conversation turned on the difference between the penal codes of France and England. The French code, as revised, and, in many parts, formed by Napoleon, is much more mild than ours. There are not more than twelve crimes for which the punishment is death. In England, according to Blackstone, there are 160 crimes punished by death; on these subjects, I shall afterwards write more fully when I haws received more information. Mr L. B. related a curious anecdote, from which the abolition of torture is said to have been determined.

A judge, who had long represented the folly of this method of trial, without any success, had recourse to the following stratagem:—Be went into the stable at night, and having taken away two of his own horses, he had them removed to distance. In the morning his coachman came trembling to inform him of the theft. He immediately had him confined. He was put to the torture, and, unable to bear the agony, he said that he had stolen the horses. The judge immediately wrote to the King, and informed him, that he himself had removed the horses. The man was pardoned, and the judge settled a large pension on him. The subject of the torture was considered, and the result was its abolition.

I found that the opinions as to some parts of their criminal jurisprudence in France, were the same as are entertained on the same subject in England. Mr L. B., who has had occasion professionally to attend many criminal trials, is of opinion, that in this country, terrible punishments ought to be avoided, or at least performed in private. It is generally thought, that the horror of these punishments deters the robber and murderer, and has a good effect on the multitude; but I am afraid, said Mr L. B., that the multitude compassionate the sufferer, and think the laws unjust: and experience shews, that punishments, however horrid, do not deter the hardened criminal. My father, said he, filled the situation of judge in his native city. A very young man, son of his baker, was convicted before the court, and condemned to die, for robbery with murder. After sentence, my father visited him, and asked him how he had been led to commit such a crime? Since I was a child, said the boy, I have always been a thief. When at school, I stole from my school-fellows,—when brought home, I stole from my father and mother. I have long wished to rob on the high-way; the fear of death did not prevent me. The worst kind of death is the rack, but by going to see every execution, I have learnt to laugh even at the rack. When young, it alarmed me, but habit has done away its terrors.

Mr L. B. is certainly a man of gentlemanly manners, and of much general information. He is received at Aix in the first society of the old nobility; and was, I afterwards found, reckoned a model of good breeding, and yet, (which, in the present condition of French manners, is by no means uncommon), I have frequently witnessed him, in general company, introducing topics, and employing expressions, which, in our country, would not have been tolerated for a moment, but must have been considered an outrage to the established forms of good breeding.

The day after our conversation with Mr L. B. we received a visit from the daughter of a Scotch friend, who is married to one of the first counsellors here. We returned home with her to hear some music. We were received in a very neat and very handsomely furnished house. The mother and daughter appeared to us polite and elegant women. But I was astonished to observe, seated on a sofa near them, a young man, whose costume, contrasted with the ease and confidence of his manners, gave me no small surprise. He wore an old torn great coat, a Belcher handkerchief about his neck, a pair of, worn-out military trowsers, stockings which had once been white, and shoes down in the heel. What my astonishment to find this shabby looking object was a brother of the counsellor's, and a correct model of the morning costume of the French noblemen!

From Mr L. B. I learnt, that the worst land in Provence, when well cultivated, produces only three for one. The common produce of tolerably good ground, is from five to seven for one. The greatest produce known in Provence is ten for one. But for this, the best soils are weeded, and plenty of manure used. Our banker's account of the soil here is more favourable; but I am doubtful whether he is a farmer. Mr L. B. has a farm, and superintends it himself.

I had the good fortune to attend a trial, which had excited much interest here. In the conscription which immediately preceded the downfall of Bonaparte, it appears, that the most horrid acts of violence and tyranny had been committed. People of all ranks, and of all ages, had been forced at the point of the bayonet to join the army. Near Marseilles, the gens-d'armes, in one of the villages, after exercising all kinds of cruelty, had collected together a number of the peasantry, and were leading them to be butchered. The peasants, in Provence, are naturally bold and free. The party contrived to escape, and all but one man hid themselves in the woods. This poor fellow was conducted alone; his hands in irons. His comrades lay in wait for the party who were carrying him away, and in the attempt to deliver him, three of the gens-d'armes were killed. The unfortunate conscript was only released to die of his wounds. Three of his comrades were seized, and indicted to stand trial for the murder of the gens-d'armes.

I judged this a most favourable opportunity of ascertaining the public feeling, and attended the trial accordingly. The court was a special one, for this is one of the subjects which Bonaparte did not trust to a jury. It was composed of five civil and three military members. The forms of proceeding were the same as I have fully noticed in a subsequent chapter,—the same minute interrogations were made to the unhappy prisoners—the same contest took place between these and the Judges. One was acquitted, and the other two found guilty of "meurtre volontaire, mais sans premeditation."—Voluntary, but unpremeditated murder. These two were condemned to labour for life, but a respite was granted, and an appeal made to the King in their behalf. I was not disappointed in the ebullitions of public feeling which many of the incidents of the trial called forth. Mr L. B. and another young advocate pleaded very well. They both touched, though rather slightly, on the state of the country; but it was left to Mr Ayeau, the most celebrated pleader in criminal trials, and a zealous royalist, to develope the real condition of France, at the time of this last conscription. His speech was short, but I think it was the most energetic, and the most eloquent I ever heard. He began in an extraordinary manner, which at once shewed the scope of his argument, and secured him the attention of every one present—"Gentlemen, if that pest of society, from whom it has pleased God to release us, was a usurper and a tyrant, it was lawful to resist him. If Louis the XVIII. was our legitimate prince, it was lawful to fight for him." He then shewed, in a most ingenious argument, that the prisoners at the bar had done no more than this. Some parts of his speech were exceedingly beautiful. He ended by saying, that "he dared the Judges to condemn to death those who would have died for "Louis le desiré."—It is generally thought here, that they will all be pardoned.

The situation of the town of Aix, and the scenery in the valley, is truly beautiful. It is now the middle of December, yet the air is even warmer, I think, than with us in summer. We sit with open windows, and when we walk, the heat of the sun is even oppressive. The flowers in the little gardens in the valley are in full bloom; and the other day we found the blue scented violet, and observed the strawberries in blossom. The fields are quite green, and the woods still retain their variegated foliage. When the mistral (a species of north-west wind, peculiar to this climate), blows, it is certainly cold; but since our arrival, we have only twice experienced this chilling interruption to the general beauty and serenity of our weather. The scenery in the interior of the hills which surround the valley, is very romantic; and the little grassy paths which lead through them, are so dry, that our party have had several delightful expeditions into the hills. Many of our French friends, although probably themselves no admirers of the country, profess themselves so fond of English society, that they insist upon accompanying us; and it is curious to witness the artificial French manners, and the noisy volubility of French, tongues introduced into those retired and beautiful scenes, which, in our own country, we associate with the simplicity and innocence of rural life.

Amidst these peaceful and amusing occupations, the easy tenor of our lives gliding on from day to day, interrupted by no variety of event, except the entertaining differences occasioned by foreign manners and a foreign country; we were surprised one morning by the entrance of our landlord, who came into our parlour with a face full of anxiety, and informed us, that Napoleon had landed at Cannes from Elba, and had already, with five hundred men, succeeded in reaching Grace. Mr L. B. soon came in and confirmed the report. Although certainly considerably alarmed at this event, especially as the greater portion of our party was composed of ladies, I could not help feeling, that we were fortunate in having an opportunity thus offered of ascertaining the state of public opinion, and the true nature of the political sentiments of that part of the country in which we are at present residing; for we are here at Aix, within twenty-five miles of the small town where Napoleon has landed.

I shall first detail the circumstances under which this singular event took place; afterwards attempt to give some idea of the effects produced by it on the multitude. On the 1st of March 1815, Napoleon landed near Cannes, in the gulf of Juan. His first step was, to dispatch his Aide-de-Camp, Casabianca, with another officer and 25 men, to ask admittance into the Fort of Antibes; admitted into the Fort, they demanded its surrender to Bonaparte. The Governor paraded his garrison, and having made them swear allegiance to their Sovereign, he secured the rebels. Casabianca leaped from the wall and broke his back. In the meantime, Napoleon, finding his first scheme fail, marched straight to Grace, with between 700 and 800 men. He there encamped with his small force on the plain before the town, and summoned the mayor to furnish rations for his men; to which the mayor replied; that he acknowledged no orders from any authority except Louis XVIII. This conduct was the more worthy of praise, as the poor mayor had not a soldier to support him. The Emperor then attempted to have printed a proclamation in writing, signed by him, and counter-signed by General Bertrand, in which, among other rhodomontades, he tells the good people of France, that he comes at the call of the French nation, who, he knew, could not suffer themselves to be ruled by the Prince Regent of England, in the person of Louis XVIII.—The printer refused to print it. Napoleon proceeded from Grace to Digne, from Digne to Sisteron, and from Sisteron to Gap, where he slept on the 6th of March. In all the villages, he endeavoured, apparently without success, to inflame the minds of the people, and strengthen, by recruits, his small body of troops. He has, as yet, got no one to join him; but, on the other hand, he has met with no resistance. This day, the 8th, he must meet with three thousand men, commanded by General Marchand. It is thought, that if these prove true to their allegiance, he will make good his way to Lyons; but if, on the contrary, they oppose him, he is ruined. The commotion excited in Aix, by this news, is not to be conceived. The hatred and detestation in which Bonaparte is held here, becomes, I think, more apparent as the danger is more imminent. With a very few exceptions, all ranks of people express these sentiments. The national guard were immediately under arms, and entreated their commanding officer and the civil authorities, to permit them to go in pursuit of the ex-Emperor. Unfortunately the chiefs were not well agreed on the measures which ought to be adopted. From the excessive sang froid with which Massena conducted himself, I should not be surprised if there were some truth in the report which was current here, that he had intelligence of the whole scheme, and kept back, in order that he might join Bonaparte. The first and second day, nothing was done; on the 3d, the 83d regiment was dispatched in pursuit from Marseilles. I accompanied them for four miles, during which, they had made two short halts. I had an opportunity of talking with a number of the men: they were certainly liberal in their abuse of the ex-Emperor; but several of them remarked, that it was a hard thing to make them fight against each other. The French here are all of opinion, that the troops of the line are not to be trusted. Like all other soldiers, they long for war, and as they would be more likely to have war Under Napoleon, than under Louis XVIII. I have little doubt they would join him. On the first news, the whole society of Aix were in the deepest affliction—the men agitated and disturbed—the women and children weeping. Each hour these feelings changed, for every hour there was some new report. The French believe every thing, and though each report belied the other, I saw no difference in the credit attached to them. There is no newspaper published in Aix, and the prefect, who is a person much suspected, has taken no steps to give the public correct information, but allows them to grope, in the dark; they have invented accordingly the most ridiculous stories, converting hundreds into thousands, and a few fishing boats and other small craft, into first a squadron of Neapolitans, and then a fleet of English ships. This report of the English ships is, I am sorry to say, still current, and the English are looked on with an evil eye by the lower orders. Even among our more liberal friends, there were some who asked me, what interest the English could have in letting him escape? After some cool reasoning, however, they acknowledged the folly of this story. The King is universally blamed for employing, in the most responsible situations, the Generals attached to Napoleon. The populace declare, that Soult, the Minister of War, is at the bottom of this attempt. Now, that one can reason on the matter, and that the impression of the magnanimity which dictated the conduct of the allied Powers to Napoleon, is somewhat diminished, it must be allowed, that there is some sense in the remark, that it was folly to dismiss him to Elba, with all the appointment, "pomp, and circumstance" of a little Sovereign, instead of confining him in a prison, or leaving him no head to plan mischief. The people affirm here, that this was done purposely by the English, to keep France in continual trouble.