Chapter VI: Introduction: By Richard Davey (6)

From the top of the building we had a magnificent view of Paris and its environs.

The astronomical instruments are stationed in the great hall, but on account of the absence of the officials connected with the building we were unable to examine them or to see the immense telescope. Upon the whole this edifice is, like all French public buildings, superior in architecture to anything of the kind in England, but greatly inferior in _utility_, and far less calculated to answer its object than that at the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, was under the direction of Dr. Maskelyne.[1]

XXIV

EXCURSION TO ST. CLOUD. PORCELAIN MANUFACTORY
AT SÈVE. A DUEL

Queen Marie Antoinette paid dearly for the vast sums expended upon this palace. A fourth part of the money expended upon St. Cloud would have sufficed to purchase by bribery all the demagogues of France.

This place derives its name from a very remote antiquity. When the grandsons of Clovis and Ste. Clotilde were murdered by their ambitious and unnatural uncles, one (Cleodold) escaped, and was conveyed by his nurse to a secret place, where he was educated for the priesthood. He eventually founded a monastery in the vicinity of Paris, called after him St. Cleodold or St. Cloud. In later years a Royal château was built upon the same site. Before the Revolution his tomb was still preserved, inscribed with a very ancient epitaph.

St. Cloud is about six miles from Paris. The château stands upon an eminence commanding a full view of the capital and adjacent country; and the Seine, which widens at this point, meanders slowly beside the grove of trees planted along the banks. During the life of the Queen, the paintings in the gallery, the magnificence of the furniture in all the apartments, and the beauty of the walks, waters and cascades, made St. Cloud a most attractive spot. But the paintings and furniture were destroyed, and the place is now fitted up in a most costly style for the residence of the First Consul.

It is his intention to hold his Court here occasionally, and to enrich it with some choice pictures from the gallery in the Louvre. I have been informed that he intends to make it the depôt for all the gold and silver utensils which he stole out of private houses during the campaign in Italy.

[Sidenote: ST. CLOUD]

A considerable quantity of Church plate which he purloined he has sent to a silversmith’s to be melted, and afterwards wrought into salvers and other domestic vessels, marked with his initials, so that the Consular family will always be served upon gold and silver plates and dishes.

The cascades of St. Cloud are perfectly preserved, and they play once a month for the amusement of the Parisian populace. The expense of these exhibitions amounts to £12,750 per annum. The waterworks of Marli, which originally cost £200,000 sterling, are to be destroyed in order to increase the celebrity of those which ornament the Consular residence.

I have more than once had occasion to animadvert on the facilities open to licentiousness and debauchery in almost every place of public resort in Paris. There is a circumference of wickedness traced within twelve miles of this metropolis, seemingly on purpose to prevent unwary youth from escaping the bonds of infection. No repose or time for reflection is allowed to the voluptuous inhabitant of Paris. Of this melancholy truth the detail of what I saw in the village of St. Cloud is a proof.

This place being in the vicinity of Paris, and only a pleasant promenade from that capital, it is frequented by the Sunday devotees of pleasure. It is chiefly the resort of young persons of both sexes, who, after wandering about the charming walks, retire to an auberge at the foot of the bridge where there are a number of little hermitages in which they procure refreshments. These hermitages, though in the style of English tea-gardens, are refinements on the dull insipid morality of British rural architecture, because in France it is a prevailing maxim that elegant vice is preferable to dull virtue.

Into one of these little boxes we were ushered for the purpose of taking refreshment. After we had rested awhile I perceived a small door which excited my curiosity; I opened it, when, behold!... Confounded at what I saw, I resolved to find out whether we might not have been introduced into this hut by mistake; but, after examining at least twenty others, I found they were precisely upon the same plan and with the same views, only a few of them surpassed the others in decoration and scenery.

I inquired of the mistress of the place why so many little bedrooms were annexed to these boxes; she replied coolly that they were for the accommodation of such ladies and gentlemen who came to St. Cloud, and who desired a private _tête-à-tête_.

We then visited the celebrated porcelain manufactory of Sève, which is at all times open to public inspection. The range of apartments in which the porcelain is exhibited is extensive. A few groups of figures are in glass cases, but all the other articles exposed to the touch of the visitor. The price is affixed to each article, and no abatement whatever is made to purchasers.

The trade in porcelain, we are told, has for long been dull and heavy, but it is expected the general peace will open a vent for the sale of these articles.

The highest price of any article we saw was £20 sterling for a single plate, a price we thought exorbitant.

I maintain that the porcelain manufactured at Derby will stand a comparison with that at Sève. If the latter be more pellucid and delicate in its white colour, the finishing of the figures is equal, if not superior, at the former. I saw some years ago at Derby a dessert service manufactured for the Prince of Wales, and I did not find anything so beautifully executed at Sève.

[Sidenote: NEGLECT OF PUBLIC EDUCATION]

We thoroughly examined this elegant exhibition, and were received with great politeness and attention. We then returned by the walks of St. Cloud, and drove off to Paris through the Bois de Boulogne.

On our way we saw several persons carrying the dead body of General d’Estaing,[1] who had just been shot by General Regnier[1] in a duel. The cause of the quarrel arose in Egypt, where both officers served with distinction. D’Estaing was an able man, and is much regretted; but Regnier is possessed of very splendid abilities and an acute and penetrating genius, as is shown in the admirable account he has sent the Agricultural Society concerning the state of agriculture in Egypt. This unfortunate affair does not excite the sensation here that the death of a fighting booby does in London. Duelling is by no means so frequent as under the Monarchy, the point of honour being little understood by the Republican nobles.

XXV

ESTABLISHMENTS FOR PUBLIC INSTRUCTIONS.
THE MILITARY SCHOOL. THE CHAMPS DE MARS.
THE GOBELIN MANUFACTORY.
THE HÔTEL DE VILLE AND THE GARDE MEUBLE

In old France there were more universities, colleges and public schools than in any other part of the world. All these were overthrown by the Jacobin Revolution, and the funds allotted to their support squandered on the adventurers who figured and still figure on the theatre of the French Republic.

To this hour there is no general plan of education in the country. There are only three central schools in Paris, and their organisation is essentially defective.

Abstract sciences and history fill up the whole course of education until the pupil is eighteen years of age.

Geography is not taught; there is no professor of foreign languages, and only one lecturer upon the ancient and classical tongues, who once a week reads aloud a discourse rather for his own amusement than for the advantage of his pupils.

In consequence of these arrangements the understanding of the scholar is never exercised. To teach the abstract sciences to boys merely by reading dissertations to them is much the same as to attempt the demonstration of a problem by Euclid without pen, ink or paper.

These central schools therefore are no manner of use, they only serve as a parade of useless erudition on the part of the professor, and nurse consummate ignorance and vanity in the students who attend them.

However, when the pupils have somehow or other gone through their classes, they are removed to the Polytechnic school, which is the Parisian University.

About 400 boys are here finishing at this Polytechnic school, laboratories, mechanical workshops and philosophical apparatus are provided for the use of the pupils.

If a young person is ambitious of acquiring the elements of science, he must work at home and pay his own masters, for the central schools cannot possibly render him any useful assistance. When he has educated himself he may possibly derive some advantage from attending the lectures of certain Professors. They are the following. In the Geographical School, the science of geography is well taught, but only twenty pupils are admitted to this establishment. The School of Roads and Bridges is also a very useful institution. It was founded by M. Prony[1] during the Monarchy, thirty-six Polytechnicians are received into this school. The School of Naval Architecture is also an institution of the old Monarchy. The School of Medicine contains 1000 students, twenty professors, a modeller in wax and a designer. There is a school of pharmacy, a mineral school and a veterinary school at Alfort near Charenton.

But the most important college still remaining is the “Collège de France,” Place de Cambrai, which has survived the storms of the Revolution and retains its ancient reputation. It has seventeen professors, who are all men of the greatest merit and celebrity in the Republic of letters.

[Sidenote: CHAMP DE MARS]

Lalande, perhaps the ablest astronomer in Europe, is the professor of astronomy; la Croix, a profound geometrician, professor of mathematics; and my estimable and revered friend, de la Metherie, professor of natural history.

These different colleges are supported entirely at the expense of the State; the professors are paid out of the public revenues, and students of all ages and countries permitted to consult and attend their lectures free of any expense.

But these establishments are not in the least suitable for those who have not long overstepped the boundaries of elementary knowledge, and they are beyond the reach of juvenile or vulgar understandings.

The Ecole Militaire, erected in 1751, after the designs of Gabriel, did not suffer as a building during the Revolution, because it was used as a barrack for the troops of the Convention.

It is now converted into a barrack for the Consular Horse Guards commanded by Eugène Beauharnais.

We were permitted to walk round the piazzas that encircle the court, beneath which soldiers were sleeping in groups. So solemn a silence reigned through the building we might have fancied ourselves in a Benedictine monastery.

The Champs de Mars is by many people mistaken for a Campus Martius, but the origin of its designation is taken from the fact that this spot was in early ages used for the holding of those assemblies of the people which were precursors of the more modern Parliaments. As these meetings were usually held in the month of March, the places where they were held were termed the Fields of March. This great enclosure is now one of the dullest and least frequented spots in Paris. Formerly the Altar of Federation stood in its centre, but that, with every other ornament of the Revolution, is now levelled with the ground.

But when we reflect upon the many philosophical, conventional and dictatorial antics which have been exhibited and practised here within the last decade, it is worth the trouble of visiting this place.

All the blasphemous pantomimes which were performed in commemoration of the sanguinary freaks of the Republic were represented on the Champs de Mars.

The pencil of David has been often employed on the scenery, and the pen of Chenier ran with blood as he composed the pæans of Jacobinism.

It was here also that Robespierre, with a lighted torch, set fire to the altar to the Etre Suprème, while the people shouted “Vive Robespierre! Vive la Convention!” All this sounds like fiction, and yet it all took place on this very field.

The manufactory of Gobelins still exists, though its productions past and present are in no request and have grown out of fashion.

During the Monarchy it was a most thriving and prosperous industry, and a vast number of workmen were employed there. The different apartments contain many beautiful tapestries, taken from original paintings by great French artists, but they find no purchasers.

Nothing can be more exquisite than the colouring and exquisite workmanship of the articles produced here; a single piece requires two or three years’ labour. The workmen are not paid more than three shillings a day for their sedentary and difficult occupation. This is accounted for by the fact that the Government supports the manufactory, and that there is no sale whatever for the works.

Fashions are changing constantly, and perhaps the Gobelins may again have its day. Gilles Gobelins, a celebrated dyer, erected the manufactory during the reign of Francis I.

[Sidenote: HÔTEL DE VILLE]

The Hôtel de Ville is worthy of a traveller’s attention on account of its antiquity and its having been the focus of many extraordinary events. It was built in the middle of the sixteenth century and contains a great number of apartments. After August 10, 1792, all the ancient inscriptions and ornaments were taken down and either removed or destroyed. When the King was brought to Paris from Versailles by the mob, prepared and hired for that purpose, he was exhibited at one of the windows to the populace; and Monsieur Bailly, the Mayor, informed him that it was a fine day, and presented him with the National cockade instead of a bouquet.

This is the place where Robespierre first took refuge when he had been outlawed, and in front of it is the lamp iron from which so many victims have been suspended. Here the red flag, with the inscription _Citoyens, la patrie est en danger!_ was first unfurled, to serve as the signal for massacre, and here the guillotine is preserved for the inspection of the curious.

Twelve years ago the Garde Meuble was one of the principal curiosities which attracted the attention of foreigners. The apartments were filled with ancient armoury, national and foreign, rare tapestries, after the cartoons and designs of Dürer, Lucas of Leyden, Julius Romano, Raphael, le Brun and Coypel; precious vases, presents from ambassadors, jewels, pearls, diamonds, and a multitude of other rich and valuable articles. In the month of September 1792, a band of thieves broke into the halls and carried off a great quantity of these riches, among other things the Pitt diamond, the largest belonging to the Crown. However, there are still some precious antiques remaining, such as the sword of Henry IV., the spontoon of Paul V., and the polished armour worn by Francis I. at the Battle of Pavia, with which on the day of the capture of the Bastille a cobbler of the Faubourg St. Antoine, then on guard, completely caparisoned himself, to the utter astonishment of the spectators. The exterior of this vast edifice has not suffered by the blows of the Revolution. It is not yet decided to what purpose the Government intend to convert it.

XXVI

THE CONSERVATORY OF ARTS AND MACHINES

THE ravages of the Revolution completely laid waste the whole of France intellectually, as well as morally, and the labours of eminent artists and inventors were either suspended or transferred to foreign countries.

The murderers of Lavoisier could scarcely be expected to patronise either arts or useful sciences.

In the short space of ten years more injury has been done to the useful arts in France than by all the Alarics and Omars of antiquity.

However, the Revolutionists had not proceeded very far in the route of devastation, when a few enlightened men, who perceived the extent of the mischief threatened to be entailed upon posterity, courageously opposed their further progress, and adopted the most provident precautions to stop the fury of the evil.

Through the indefatigable exertions of Bishop Grégoire the National Convention on October 11, 1794, decreed the establishment of a Conservatory of Arts, whose object was to collect machines, utensils, designs, descriptions and experiments, relating to the improvement of industry, so as to diffuse some knowledge of them throughout the Republic.

But it was one thing to decree and another to execute. By a studied remissness the law was suspended for three years. National edifices were granted by dint of favour to useless projectors, but the Conservatory of Arts could find no place to display its riches and means of instruction. At length a decree, passed on May 7, appropriated a portion of the former Abbey of St. Martin des Champs to this object, and the inadequate sum of 56,000 livres, or £2240 sterling, was voted for the reparations of the building, the purchase of the land and the indemnity accorded to the renter.

[Sidenote: CONSERVATOIRE D’ARTS]

Thus finally organised, the Conservatory of Arts presents a splendid accumulation of useful machines, always open for the inspection and improvement of the public. The machines, which Pajot d’Ozemberg gave to the ancient Academy of Sciences, and the greater part of the beautiful models which composed the celebrated gallery of mechanical arts belonging to the late Duke of Orleans, are now in this Conservatory. Also the 500 machines bequeathed to the Government by the celebrated Vaucouson, to whom the French nation is as much indebted as to Olivier des Serres and Bernard Palissy.

In addition to these collections there is an infinite number of machines relative to agricultural labours, such as draining, irrigation, preparation of oil, &c.

The Conservatory also contains machines for twisting tobacco, taken from on board an English vessel, as well as a very important chart of North America, executed by order of our Government. It has been greatly enriched by the “_discoveries_” of certain French savans, those learned robbers of the National Institute who followed the victorious march of the Republican armies in Holland and Italy. Whole waggon loads of instruments of science have been filched from their proprietors and transmitted to this National reservoir by those industrious, indefatigable and erudite thieves, Citizens Thonin, Fanjos, Leblond, Bertholet, Barthélémy, Monge, Moitte and De Wailly.

The object of the Conservatory is not only to secure to the public the knowledge of those inventions for which the Government has conferred rewards or granted patents, but also to become the common depot of all inventions. Thus it is for the useful arts what the Louvre is for sculpture or painting.

Upon the whole this Conservatoire d’Arts is one of the most beneficial and laudable establishments in France. It has a direct tendency to encourage industry and stimulate genius. Some persons who have not sufficiently examined the matter object to it on the plea, that by rendering handicrafts more simple by mechanical force, a multitude of workmen will be deprived of the means of subsistence.

Such arguments were used by the watermen of London when Westminster Bridge was built.

But the world possesses more scope for labour than it possesses hands, and the powers of mechanism by simplifying the process of manufacture also diminish the price of the article, bringing it thereby into general circulation and opening a more lucrative commerce to a nation by underselling the produce of foreign countries and so putting an end to all competition.

The true principle of public economy begins to be studied in every part of Europe, and we are making a slow but certain progress in improvement.

But if the rash spirit of innovation takes possession of the minds of those who govern mankind, if they will insist on bringing all things within a punctilious system of rules, they must not be surprised if their fondness for precision should terminate in a similar anarchy to that which has oppressed and ruined France.

XXVII

THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE

The decay of letters and philosophy during the progress of the French Revolution placed the French under the necessity of establishing some measures to restore the cultivation of science and literature. Thus the National Institute was eventually formed. The old Academies had been completely destroyed, their members banished, murdered, or dispersed.

[Sidenote: THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE]

The National Institute is designed to remedy this evil by once more collecting together the genius, talents and industry of France, and it belongs to the whole Republic and is fixed at Paris. It is composed of _one hundred and forty-four members resident in the capital_, and 144 Associates, taken from different parts of the Republic, together with 24 learned foreigners. Every preference in this arrangement is manifestly given to Paris, at the expense of the Departments.

The Departments, containing a majority of 30 to 1 compared with the metropolis, are never expected to produce more great men collectively than the latter. This is absurd, for every one knows that under the old Monarchy there were men scattered over the provinces often equal and in many instances far superior to the members of the Parisian Academies.

Montesquieu[1] was a member of the Academy of Bordeaux in 1716, and it was not till the year 1728 that he was admitted into the Académie Française. Indeed, an admittance into that famous society was often no evidence of supereminent merit. Genius had to contest against cabal, intrigue and Court favour; so that the _literati_ of Europe looked for great and estimable men in other Academies of France, such as Aix, Marseilles, Lyons, Bordeaux, &c.

The pre-eminence thus accorded to the Parisian _savans_, who are in general a gang of the vilest ruffians in the world, is a marked insult to the rest of the Republic, and proves that to rule France it is only necessary to be master at Paris. For the sake of this city, France, as well as foreign countries, has been laid under contribution and pillaged of whatever transportable monuments of art and genius they possessed. Had it been possible, the triumphal arch at Orange, the bridge of Gard, the amphitheatre at Nismes would have been removed here to gratify the fancy of the Parisian rabble of philosophers and legislators.

The law by which the learned men of a single city were placed on a level with those who people the whole of a vast country was made by the very men who afterwards became self-elected members of this _miscalled_ National Institute. It is no trivial matter to be one of the 144 resident in Paris. It leads to fame and fortune, to places and appointments, and it is the highest step on the ladder of philosophical ambition.

To return to the laws of the Institute, it is divided into three classes:

FIRST CLASS.--_Physical and Mathematical Sciences._

(1) Mathematics, (2) mechanical arts, (3) astronomy, (4) experimental physics, (5) chemistry, (6) natural history, (7) botany, (8) anatomy and zoology, (9) medicine and surgery, (10) rural economy and veterinary art.

SECOND CLASS.--_Moral and Political Sciences._

(1) Analysis of sensations and ideas, (2) morals or moral philosophy, (3) social science and legislation, (4) political economy, (5) history, (6) geography.

It will be observed that in this class there is no section for despised theology, which surely should have a foremost place therein.

THIRD CLASS.--_Literature and the Fine Arts._

(1) Grammar, (2) ancient languages, (3) poetry, (4) antiquities and monuments, (5) painting, (6) sculpture, (7) architecture, (8) music and declamation.

When the National Institute was about to be established a law was enacted (3rd Brumaire, year 4) by which the Directory were authorised to provide salaries for each member, and the five members of the Executive Directory were empowered to nominate the first 48 members, who _thus_ elected had power to choose the remaining 144 Associates.

In nominating the first 48, the Directors first elected each other, then their friends, and those friends nominated other friends in Paris and the Departments.

Every class of the Institute assembles twice in each decade; the assemblies are private, but each member is allowed to introduce a visitor.

The secretaries of each class assemble once a year to prepare a report of its labours, which is presented to the Institute, and whose president then writes to the Minister of the Interior to know when it shall please his consular majesty to give admission to his sacred person in order that they may present it.

[Sidenote: RULES OF NATIONAL INSTITUTE]

When that gala day arrives, the members of the Institute appear with clean shirts, dressed in their grand uniform, and neatly shaved. The First Consul receives them, habited in all his paraphernalia, and as gorgeously attired as any Emperor or King in Europe. Every member of the Institute receives 1600 livres (£60 sterling) per annum. Every member has a silver medal with the head of Minerva on one side and his name on the other, which serves as his passport into every place in which the Institute is concerned. The First Consul, who is so fond of stage effect that he will not allow an assembly of grave philosophers to think and act without a uniform, was graciously pleased to command one for the members of the Institute. The State dress consists of a black satin coat, waistcoat, and breeches, embroidered throughout with branches of olive in deep green silk, not _à la Française_.

The undress costume is similar, but only embroidered at the collar and cuffs. This regulation was signed and countersigned by the First Consul and the Minister of the Interior.

On the 5th Frimaire, year 10, the Institute decreed that on the death of a member the president, the senior of the two secretaries of each class, as well as the members of the section to which the deceased belonged, were, unless prevented by some unavoidable cause, to assist at his funeral. The procession departs from the National Palace of the Louvre at _noon precisely_, in order that the moment it arrives at the late residence of the deceased the funeral ceremony may immediately be despatched.

Formerly a hole was dug in the earth and the philosopher’s carcase quickly deposited therein, but since it has become the fashion to be a Christian the old service for the dead is to be revived. The Conservatory of Music are to execute a solemn dirge, and black crape is to be worn upon the left arm. An historical memoir of the deceased is to be made in the course of the year by the secretaries and read at a public sitting of the Institute, when the family of the dead member are to be seated in a distinguished place. The precision with which all these ceremonies are minutely marked out leaves room for regret that it has not been mentioned at what signal from the president the assembly shall begin to cry.

I ought, perhaps, to give a list of the members of this Institute, with details of their characters previous to and since the Revolution, and their respective claims to literary pre-eminence. Such a narrative would be interesting, as the greater part of them have rendered themselves less conspicuous in the world of letters than in taking a very active part in some of the most bloody tragedies of the Republic.

For instance: Bonaparte, Carnot,[1] Mouge,[1] le Blond,[1] Berthelet,[1] Foucroy,[1] Revellière,[1] Lepoux,[1] Cambacères, Merlin,[1] Talleyrand,[1] Roederer,[1] François de Neufchâteau, Chenier,[1] Thonin,[1] Mouette,[1] have all been known for their assassinations, robberies and atrocious crimes. Foucroy was the cause, for instance, of the murder of the immortal Lavoisier. All these ruffians and others space prevents my naming, furnish abundant matter for inquiry and reflection, but it is impossible to include such a length of biographies in a letter; but before I leave Paris I intend to procure sufficient authentic documents by which upon my return (should I escape in safety from the tyrant’s grasp) I shall be then enabled to drag these philosophical murderers and thieves out of their National Palace, strip them of their silken disguises, and expose them in all their naked deformity to the execration of mankind.

In vain do they flatter themselves that by the arts of a meretricious rhetoric they elude the vigilant pursuit of injured innocence and affronted justice, in vain do they suppose that they shall court foreign applause by associating with the learned of other countries. It is a disgrace and a dishonour to be favoured by the National Institute where a band of sanguinary ruffians pollute the halls consecrated to learning, science and wisdom. Whoever lives under a government where religion, morals and public freedom are revered, ought to reject their silver medal and _procès verbal_, as he would cast away from him food contaminated with poison.

If it be an honour to be elected a member of a society, learned, indeed, but fundamentally vicious and depraved, why not petition to be admitted to the Palace of Pandemonium?

The devils in hell are fully as knowing as the members of the Institute, and, for ought I know, not done greater evil to mankind. They are the fittest colleagues for such men, and not the upright and pensive cultivators of science and literature.

XXVIII

THE CENTRAL MUSÉE DES ARTS. THE GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE.

[Sidenote: MUSEUM OF THE LOUVRE]

When the French Republicans first took up arms, they protested to the world that they fought not for conquest, but to spread their beneficent doctrines of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity, and that wherever their victorious standards were spread, the liberty and property of nations should be respected. Their first campaigns were directed against their warlike neighbours who hovered round their frontiers; and when they succeeded in repelling the veteran troops of the continental Powers, they began a career of robbery, pillage, rapine and destruction, which has no parallel in the history of disciplined nations, nor even in that of predatory hordes of barbarians.

The principle on which the robberies of the French have been conducted has been to _aggrandise_ France by the utter _impoverishment_ of other countries.

After having demolished the monuments of the genius and industry of their own countrymen, they went forth to ransack other countries, and destroyed all they could not carry away with them. Whatever had been raised by the talents, the piety or the care of the lovers of science, arts and literature, became the object of their vandalism or their peculation. Their policy had no element but to divide in order to conquer, and so arrive at universal domination by universal confusion. Occupied constantly on the destruction of Europe in detail, they trampled under their feet Monarchies and Republics alike.

Every time I have paced along the galleries of the Louvre sentiments of hatred and indignation took possession of my breast. Amidst all the blaze of artistic beauty I never entered nor left without feelings of disgust.

I confess I received no gratification from all the Raphaels, Titians, and Correggios I saw there.

In their _proper places_ I could have gazed with transport upon these masterpieces, but I cannot look with pleasure on productions thus violently torn from their lawful owners.

Of all the countries which have been undone by French havock Italy has suffered the most, and its miseries are least known to the world. The French have literally exhausted upon that country the fecundity of rapine, cheating and fury. They have rendered themselves masters of its correspondence, and all we know now of the existence of that desolated country is through the frequent eruptions of a tyranny without remorse, of a powerless despair and of the accumulations of spoil which decorates the public exhibitions of Paris. The contributions of the French were nothing less than a general sack, the encyclopædia of their thefts forms a monument of curiosity.

[Sidenote: STOLEN PICTURES]

The barbarians who formerly overran Italy despised art, and neglected to take possession of such treasures. The fanatical Mussulman destroyed them as monuments of idolatry. But in our times Academicians, poets, orators, philosophers, members of the National Institute, have crossed the Alps to strip Italy of her talents, to force from her the labours of her children, the most sacred illustration of a people, a property which the laws of war among civilised nations has hitherto held to be inviolable until the present epoch, when a gang of savage sophists have replunged Italy into a darkness worse than any of the early ages of Europe.

Those who are ignorant of the methods by which a thief has realised an immense fortune may be forgiven for their admiration of his wealth and treasures, but the man who is acquainted with the villainy employed in such an accumulation is inexcusable should he lavish praises on objects in that thief’s possession. Therefore, with the knowledge that none of these pictures belong to France, and that they are all stolen goods acquired by fraud, injustice and murder, I could not coolly fix my eyes upon them nor repeat ecstacies of vulgar adulation.

No sooner have you entered the Gallery than you are presented with a catalogue of these paintings, in which the robbers do not blush to avow their robberies. The facetious rascals of the National Institute talk and write of the knavery with as much _sangfroid_ as they take a pinch of snuff.

The paintings are styled “Tableaux conquis en Italie, recueillis dans la Lombardie, à Bologne, Cento, Modêne, Parme, Plaisance, Rome, Venise, Vérone, Florence, Turin.”

With this register of pillage in your hand, you enter the Gallery containing the spoils of nations, and nearly every picture bears at the bottom an inscription declaring it to be a stolen article. Scarcely a page of the catalogue but contains such proclamations of theft as these: “Ces deux tableaux viennent de la Cathédrale de Plaisance, où ils pendoient aux deux coins du Sanctuaire. Ce tableau est tiré de la galerie de Turin. Ce tableau vient du Palais Pitti. Ce tableau est tiré du Palais Pontifical de Monte Cavallo à Rome. Ce tableau vient du Cabinet du ci-devant Roi de Sardaigne à Turin. Ce tableau, un des meilleurs qu’a produit Paolo Veronese, est tiré de l’église des Réligieuses de St. Zacharin à Venise. Ce tableau vient du maître autel de l’église de San Giorgio à Venise. Ce tableau est tiré de l’église de Santa Maria del Orto à Venise. Ce précieux et magnifique tableau que les artistes regardent comme un des chefs d’œuvres de Titian, le martyre de St. Pierre, vient de l’église San Giovanni e Paolo à Venise. Ce portrait vient du Palais du Prince Breschi à Rome.”

There is no end to this catalogue of iniquity, it fills at present three volumes, but much more will be added. I question if the Newgate Calendar for the last 100 years contains altogether a hundredth part of the impudent dexterity in the art of filching which the rogues of the National Institute present to us in these three little syllabuses of Republican iniquity.

Englishmen, happily shut out from the view of the sack of the continent by that sea which guards our honest little island, have no adequate idea of the indignant feelings of the wretched inhabitants of the wronged countries which the French armies have plundered. I have visited this gallery of paintings in company with some Italians of distinction; I perceived in their countenances a deep and fixed look of unutterable anguish and regret. Such a look that only the artists of Italy whose expatriated portraits hung around us could delineate.

May Heaven preserve our country from ever experiencing a similar stroke of humiliation and abasement! How should we Britons feel if one day in a later catalogue we read among these: “Notices sur plusieurs précieux tableaux recueillis par les Philosophes de l’Institut pour multiplier les jouissances du public. Ce tableau peint sur toile est tiré de l’autel de l’église cathédrale de Westminster. Ce vitre vient de King’s College à Cambridge. Ce tableau est tiré du Cabinet du ci-devant Roi d’Angleterre à Windsor. Ce tableau de Shakespeare vient de la bibliothèque de la librairie à Cambridge. Ce tableau de la mort du General Wolfe est tiré du cabinet de la ci-devant Reine d’Angleterre à Buckingham House. Cette statue vient du Cabinet de Milord Lansdowne. Ce tableau peint par Claude vient du cabinet de Milord Gwydir.”

Having expressed with candour what my sentiments have ever been when I visited the gallery of paintings in the Louvre, I now proceed to fulfil the important duty of an historian.

[Sidenote: MRS. COSWAY]

Mrs. Cosway, whose taste and skill are well known, is now occupied in copying all the paintings in the Gallery on a small scale, intending to execute later an enlarged account of them, together with the biography of their respective masters. She has already executed several compartments; and not all the fascinations of society nor the gaieties of the capital can allure her from the daily pursuit of the labour of her choice. I tell her the Gallery of the Louvre is her drawing-room, for when she is at work all the English gather around her. However, she loses no time, for she enters in conversation and paints also, and it is difficult to affirm in which she most excels.

The object of Mrs. Cosway is to represent, by etchings, all the pictures precisely as they are fixed in the Gallery. The Hon. Mr. E---- is struck with the undertaking, and he has appropriated a particular part of his house at H---- for the display of her works.

There is _one_ circumstance attached to all the public institutions of Paris on which I must bestow the highest commendation, they are open to the public _gratis_. I wish I could say the same of our excellent establishments at home. With the exception of the British Museum, I do not know of a single institution in Great Britain to which a native or a foreigner can be admitted without a fee. And these fees are generally exacted under so many circumstances of barefaced imposition that one cannot help feeling ashamed that such abuses should be tolerated, and that the officers of these establishments are permitted to exclude travellers who do not pay them gratuities for viewing these interesting and instructive collections.

The only qualification in Paris to visit museums or public institutions is to have your passport in your pocket--without it the porter at the gate will assuredly forbid your entrance.

Under the Monarchy, the Gallery of the Louvre alone was appropriated to the public, and contained a splendid collection of paintings. Now the whole palace is appropriated to National uses.

It is not only the repository of pictures, but also of antiquities; the National Institute and the Polytechnic Society designed to supply the Ancient Academy des Belles Lettres, hold their assemblies here.

The productions of living artists are exhibited here once a year, and _appartements_ are allotted free of expense to various artists and men of science. The museum is maintained in a high state of cleanliness and propriety; and the orderly conduct of the spectators, who are all admitted free of charge and without respect of persons, is greatly to be commended.

The great Gallery of the Louvre is not well adapted for the exhibition of pictures; it is too narrow in proportion to its length, and the windows which look out towards the Seine defeat the effect of those which look towards the Place du Carrousel. A great number of the paintings thus appear to be covered with a continual mist, and others are scarcely discernible, so that the principal effect of light and shade is destroyed.

In addition to this misfortune a number of the noblest masterpieces of the Italian School have been injudiciously retouched by the French artists and been rendered quite unnatural and in many instances ridiculous. The colouring of the parts defaced has been executed in such a bungling manner as to resemble a piece of patchwork. They have likewise injured a multitude of exquisite performances with a species of varnish, by which, when I have approached them in search of the beauties of the artists, I have been mortified by a vision of my own homely features. Things are often more spoilt by overdoing than by remaining stationary, and by the neglect of this maxim the French have ruined many of the finest pictures in their stolen collection.

XXIX

THE GALLERY OF ANTIQUITIES AT THE CENTRAL MUSEUM OF ARTS

[Sidenote: THE GALLERY OF ANTIQUITIES]

I cannot better begin the description of this Gallery than by quoting the declaration which preceded the catalogue of the statues, busts and bas-reliefs therein contained.

The preface is as follows:--

“The greater part of the statues exhibited in this Gallery are the fruits of the conquests of the army of Italy. They have been selected out of the Capitol and the Vatican by Citizens Barthélémy, Bertholet, Moitte, Monge, Thonin, Tinet--the commissioners appointed by the Government for that purpose. To the scrupulous care with which these artists and savans have packed up and transported them, we are indebted for the happy preservation of these glorious fruits of victory; and the distinguished choice they have made from among the masterpieces which Rome possessed, proves their knowledge and skill, and all lovers of the arts must owe them a debt of eternal gratitude.”

This account of the means by which they became masters of these exquisite pieces of art is worthy of its writers. They consider themselves worthy of credit for their perfidy and their predatory adventures.

But I have already sufficiently animadverted on the philosophical exploits of the National Institute, and will therefore now describe to the best of my abilities this Gallery, to which I paid particular attention.

It may appear strange, but I never felt equal disgust or distress at the sight of these statues to that excited in my mind by the magnificent gallery of paintings.

The herd of men flock to the gallery of paintings to indulge their eyes with the brilliant luxury of beauty, but in the hall of statuary very few admirers greet the trophies of French conquest.

Yet it contains more monuments of the capacity of men than all the pictures in the Louvre put together. Indeed, the Laocoon and the Belvidere Apollo alone, both of which incomparable statues are here, may be justly said to equal if not exceed in value all the pictorial tributes wrung from ravaged Italy.

In the court through which you pass to enter the Gallery are four colossal statues of slaves and the celebrated statue of Jupiter Hermes, all removed from Versailles to enrich Paris.

For the Revolution was made in Paris. The Republic was founded in Paris--the rest of France _was made_ for Paris--therefore it must be fleeced for the sake of Paris. In this way the patriotic members of the Institute continually reason.

Every article in the Gallery merits attention, but I will only enumerate a few while giving a general description of the various halls in their order.

“The Hall of the Seasons,” which is so named on account of the painted ceiling by Romanelli, representing the Seasons. This hall contains twenty-six figures, of which the most celebrated and beautiful are:--

A faun, reposing, and holding a flute (supposed to be a copy of the famous satyr of Praxiteles), stolen from the Museum of the Capitol at Rome.

A naked youth extracting a thorn from his foot, and a young faun of Parian marble, stolen as above.

Venus issuing from a bath of Pentelicon marble, stolen from the Museum of the Vatican.

Ariadne, stolen from the Belvidere of the Vatican. Septimus Severus, from Ecouen.

A colossal bust of Antoninus Pius and one of Lucius Verus, from the same place.

Augustus, stolen from the Cabinet of the Bevilacqua, at Verona.

We then enter the “Hall of Illustrious Men,” decorated by eight antique pillars of granatillo, plundered from the nave of the church of Aix la Chapelle.

[Sidenote: SPOILS FROM THE VATICAN]

Here are statues of Zeus, the Philosopher from the Capitol, Demosthenes, Trajan and a statue of Sextus, the uncle of Plutarch--all removed from the Vatican. From the Papal Museum are also statues of Menander, the Greek poet, and a fine Minerva of Pentelicon marble.

The next chamber is the “Roman Hall.”

The ceiling being ornamented with various subjects, taken from Roman history.

It contains twenty-nine statues, all bearing relation to the Roman people. Amongst them are:

The head of Scipio Africanus in bronze; the bust of Hadrian in the same metal, stolen from the Library of St. Mark’s at Venice. From the Capitol, the bust of Brutus; a Wounded Warrior[6] (this is a magnificent piece of work); Urania, sitting on a rock.

From the Vatican, Melpomene, Antoninus, and Venus at the bath, are the most striking figures.

And we now arrive at the “Hall of the Laocoon.”

This vast room is embellished with four beautiful columns of verde antique, taken from the Mausoleum, erected after the designs of Bulloin, of the famous Constable of France, Anne de Montmorency.

Each is a massive single block of the richest quality, about eleven feet high and half a yard in diameter.

In this hall are twenty-one figures, of which the first which demands attention is that wonder of the world and masterpiece of sculpture, “The Groups of the Laocoon,” executed by Agisander, Polydorus and Athenodorus. It surpasses all comment, and displays at once the perfection of sentiment, plan and composition. Some other statues, worthy of particular notice, in this hall, are a Thrower of the Disk; a Hermes, representing Tragedy; a statue of an Amazon, drawing her bow; and a colossal statue of a Triton, this latter discovered by our countryman Hamilton,[1] in the neighbourhood of Naples, and given by him to Pope Ganganalli. These are all, like the Laocoon, stolen from the Vatican.

The fourth compartment of the Gallery is termed the “Hall of Apollo,” ornamented with four superb pillars of red granite, stolen from a Cathedral in Italy. It contains twenty-seven statues, of which “The Apollo Belvidere,” that subject of delight to every tasteful eye, stands in a niche at the end of the hall--two sphinxes of oriental red granite, brought from the Vatican Museum, are placed on the steps which lead up to the statue of the Sun God. These steps and the platform on which the Apollo is fixed are of the most beautiful marble, and in the centre there are five squares of mosaic antique, representing animals in cars and other ornaments.

The pillars which ornament the niche were taken from the tomb of Charlemagne at Aix-la-Chapelle. The statue is preserved from too near approach by a handsome railing. The name of the sculptor of this statue is unknown. Giovanni Angelo di Montorsoli, pupil of Michael Angelo, restored the right arm and left hand, which were missing when the statue was discovered among the ruins of Antium.

It was fixed in the Belvidere of the Vatican by Pope Julius II., where for more than three centuries it excited the admiration of mankind, until, to use the language of the guide book provided by the Institute: “Un héros, guidé par la victoire, est venu l’en tirer pour la fixer à jamais sur les rives de la Seine.”

On the 16th Brumaire, year 9, the First Consul, Bonaparte, celebrated the inauguration of the Apollo by placing upon the pedestal of the statue the following inscription, engraved upon a bronze tablet:

“Le statue d’Apollon, qui s’élève sur ce piédestal, placé au
Vatican par Jules II., au commencement du XVI. siècle, conquise
l’an 5 de la République, par l’armée d’Italie,
Sous les ordres du Général Bonaparte,
A été fixée ici le 21 Germinal an VIII.
Première année de son Consulat,
Bonaparte, Ier Consul,
Cambacères, IIme Consul,
Lebrun, IIIme Consul.
Lucien Bonaparte, Ministre de l’Intérieur.”

[Sidenote: HISTORICAL TOMBS]

The thirty-six other statues, which decorate this hall, are all of great merit; a statue of Mercury, called the Belvidere Antinous, from the Vatican, is perhaps the finest and one of the most perfect remains of antiquity, this once stood by the Apollo in the Vatican Belvidere.

The Capitoline Venus is also exceedingly beautiful.

The sixth and last portion of this Museum is termed the “Hall of the Muses;” it contains twenty statues, every one of which was stolen from the magnificent gallery Pius VI. built as an addition or annex to the Vatican Museum. The members of the National Institute thus express themselves in the catalogue upon the contents of this hall:

“Since the revival of the arts, the admirers of antiquity have several times attempted to form collections or a series of the antique statues of the Muses; but none have proved so complete as that formed by the industry of Pius V., a collection which Victory has enabled us to transport to the National Museum.”

This chamber contains, besides the celebrated Nine Muses, heads of Bacchus, Hippocrates and a statue of the Cytherian Apollo, a Hermes and busts of Socrates, Virgil and Homer.

I have now mentioned the principal antiques contained in the six compartments of this Gallery, but were I to write a volume upon them I could give no adequate idea of their exquisite beauty and artistic merit.

XXX

MUSEUM OF FRENCH MONUMENTS

One of the earliest calamities which the intemperate zeal of her would-be reformers brought upon France was the entire confiscation of all ecclesiastical property, this property being placed at the disposal of the nation. Broken loose from the bonds of subordination, the people misinterpreted this decree, and in the effervescence of a wanton and licentious spirit demolished the sanctuaries of religion, persecuted their ancient pastors and disturbed the tranquil ashes of the dead.

The National Assembly was finally compelled to acknowledge its precipitate folly by ordering the committee which had charge of alienated property to take measures for the preservation of those monuments of art erected on the domains of the Church.

The municipality of the city of Paris nominated several literary men and artists who were to point out what books and monuments should be saved from destruction. These persons formed a “Commission des Monuments.” The desecrated convent “_des Petits Augustins_” was chosen for a deposit of sculpture and paintings and that of the “Capucins” in the Rue St. Honoré for books and manuscripts.

This was shortly before the actual and final downfall of the Monarchy. But when a few months later Paris was torn by strong convulsions and the Republic ushered in amidst shrieks of murder and falling ruins, it became the fashion to _talk_ of nothing but philosophy and regeneration, while the demon of havoc made his devastating rounds.

An era of uproar, confusion, fierce fanaticism and mental darkness overspread France.

Science and learning were perverted to the vilest purposes; incendiaries and murderers, wearing the masks of patriots and philanthropists, deluged France with blood.

A man of mild and unassuming manners, of spotless purity of principle, of general and profound knowledge, and of inflexible perseverance, devoted the labours of his life to collect and preserve from the general wreck the monuments of his country. This man is Monsieur Lenoir, the founder and director of the Musée des Monuments Français.

[Sidenote: WORK OF LENOIR]

This excellent man traversed France in every direction to save and preserve the precious evidences of his country’s former exploits. Examining the tombs of the dead, amidst crackling flames and temples crushing to atoms, he rescued much priceless worth from the tempest of destruction.

Both my wife and myself consider it one of the happiest events of our lives to have been introduced to M. Lenoir and his lady. Grave, silent, modest and pensive, his character and manner in speaking of his work is that of an affectionate son who collects with tender care the ashes of a murdered parent.

Monsieur Lenoir was for fifteen years the pupil of Doyen, by whom he was presented to the municipality of Paris as a proper person to act as conservator of the depôt of monuments, which by a decree of the Assembly, January 4, 1791, was established in the convent des Petits Augustins. He retained this post through all the anarchy and fury of the years which followed. In many cases he was able to arrest the hands of folly employed in beating down statues and tearing to pieces valuable pictures and destroying the finest bronzes.

“From the Abbey de St. Denis,” says M. Lenoir, “the interior of which the flames seem to have consumed from the roof to the bottom of the graves, I have saved the magnificent mausoleums of Louis XII., François I., Henri II., Turenne and many more. I have collected such of the precious remains that I could restore, and I am already able to display those of François I. and Louis XII. in all their splendour. Happy shall I be if I succeed in making posterity forget the ravages of vandalism.”

When we consider the light which monuments throw upon chronology and history, it is strange to hear M. Lenoir met with multiplied objections from artists (such as David) against his preservation and accumulation of the monuments of the Middle Ages--monuments which they explained were of no service to art. Monsieur Lenoir met their objections by affirming that their presence was necessary to complete his series, and he also justly observed that nothing tends more to give a just notion of any art than the view of its progress and the opportunity of comparing distances between rudeness and refinement.