網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

TRAFALGAR.

of Hartwel for the police of Paris. The pay of this lady was, I believe, a thousand francs a month. I do Commodore Sidney Smith, in his pamphlet on the not know how much the court of Hartwel gave her; subject of the death of Captain Wright, proved that the but if she received but little from that quarter, her sergrief which the capitulation of Ulm caused the prisoner, vices were afterwards more generously paid: she has had been completely dissipated by the news of the vic-at the present time five or six hundred thousand francs tory of the English fleet at Trafalgar. Agreeing on of revenue, gained during the first ten years of the this point with M. de Polignac, the Commodore admits restoration. that the news of the capitulation of Ulm and the battle of Trafalgar were known at Paris the same day--the 25th October, 1805.

The capitulation of Ulm was inserted in the Moniteur of the 25th of October; the combat of Trafalgar took place on the 21st. Could it have been known at Paris the 25th ?-and could Captain Wright have shown himself, the evening before his death, joyous and triumphant, in consequence of having learnt the defeat of the French fleet?

In a conference which the Duke of Rovigo had, after his return from exile, and his acquittal by the council of war of the first military division, with Louis XVIII, this Prince was informed of the means employed by the police of the imperial government to ascertain what passed at Hartwel during his residence at that place.

"Monsieur le Duc," said he to the former Minister, "how much did the police which you kept at Hartwel cost you?"

"Sire, it cost us from 120 to 150,000 francs."

"That was not too much; it is very near the calculation I had made. The Duke d'Aumont was in your interest, was he not?"

"That is a secret of state which I cannot reveal, without a formal order from your Majesty." "Speak frankly; I know almost as much on this subject as you do."

"Since your Majesty seems so well informed, I will not deny that the Duke d'Aumont wrote to us about twice a month."

"And for that you gave him -99

"As well as I remember, 24,000 francs a year."

"Twenty-four thousand francs! See, Monsieur le Duc, how necessary it is to distrust men !—he always told me 12,000 francs. It was probably to avoid paying my services as an author; for the letters that you received were all written by me."

The combat of Trafalgar, however, was known in France much sooner than it naturally would have been, but not until some time after the 25th of October. The news was received in this way: When the combat was ended, the Admiral, who succeeded Nelson in command, immediately despatched several light vessels to carry to England the news of the victory. One of these vessels, a brig, driven by tempestuous weather, was wrecked on the coast of France, about a league from the little harbor of Saint Valery. The sea was so rough, that all the exertions of the sailors of the port to extend assistance to the shipwrecked vessel, were, for a long time, fruitless. The hull of the vessel sunk below the surface; the officers and sailors, seeking refuge in the fore and main tops, could only look forward to certain death. Twelve hours had elapsed before the English brig, of which nothing could then be seen but the tops of the masts, could be boarded. But one person was saved; he was a midshipman in the royal navy, who, having succeeded in climbing to the top of the mainmast, fastened himself there, and remained in that position six hours, in spite of the wind and the waves which broke over him at every moment. This unfortunate young man was laid on the shore almost dead, while every one busied themselves in striving to restore him. After a half hour, during which all sorts of remedies were ap-anxiety as ever his title of member of the class of phyplied, he came to himself-his ideas and memory returned his eyes lighted up with great brilliancy--and suddenly assuming an attitude full of pride and exultation, he addressed his liberators these words, with an accent which it is impossible to describe:

GENERAL BONAPARTE,

A MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE.

When Emperor, Napoleon was a protector of all classes of the Institute, and preserved with as much

sical and mathematical sciences, section of mechanics, which he had obtained when only a general.

He was elected the 5th Nivose, 6th year, (26th December, 1797,) when, having returned from the army of Italy, after the treaty of Campo-Formio, he submitted

"The French navy has been annihilated at Trafalgar." to the Directory his plan of the Egyptian campaign.

THE POLICE OF HARTWEL.

The Duke of Rovigo, while Minister of Police, was informed of the presence at Paris of a woman of quite a distinguished name, sent by the little court of Hart

It was at the sitting of the 6th Nivose (27th of December), that General Bonaparte appeared, for the first time, at the Institute. For his début he was named, with Monge and M. Prony, member of a committee charged to examine a machine of M. Hanin, called a typographical seal.

Napoleon, before he had reached the power which he wel to act as a spy at the imperial court, to make over-afterwards attained, prided himself extremely on this tures to certain persons, and to keep open relations nomination. In Egypt, he signed his letters the "Genealready established with others. He caused her to be ral-in-Chief of the army of Egypt, Member of the Instiarrested, and brought to his house. This woman was tute." handsome, and the Duke of Rovigo found her facile; she had consented very readily to act as a spy at the imperial court for the princes of Hartwel, and, consequently, as readily agreed to act as a spy on the princes

When Consul, he often assisted at the sittings of the class of the Institute to which he belonged. These sittings were then held at the Louvre, to which he used to go directly from the Tuileries. On his entry, the pre

sidency was offered him, and the discussion, already | commenced, was resumed without interruption.

When Emperor, he no longer attended the Institute, but desired that his name should continue to figure at the head of all the lists of the members of the class of physical and mathematical sciences. The annual lists published from 1805 to 1815, always contained these words:

“Ah! ah! and does the Academy think that the soil of France is suited to the cultivation of the red-beet?" To answer that very simple question, M. Cuvier, like a true man of learning, entered into a geological disquisition on soil, from which he passed to the natural history of the red-beet. When he had arrived at a conclusion, the Emperor was no longer listening: the silence of M. Cuvier recalled him from his abstraction,

"The Emperor, nominated a member of the section and he replied: of mechanics the 5th Nivose of the year vi."

He required, when at Paris, that the accounting agent of the Institute, in his French dress, with his sword at his side, should come every month to the Tuileries, or St. Cloud, and bring for his signature the receipt-sheet, and place on his table the little gray paper bag, in which it is usual to send to the members of the Institute the amount of their monthly pay. The Emperor signed the receipt, and gave, as a present to the accounting agent, the hundred francs he had brought. Napoleon, when Emperor, exacted even of his oldest friends, that they should remember the distance which separated them; and yet he showed himself proud and flattered by a petition which he had just received from a member of the Institute, of the class of sciences, who addressed him in these words:

"Sire, and illustrious brother."

It has been said that the Emperor was of the number of the members of the Institute, turned out in 1815 by an ordinance of Louis XVIII, countersigned Vaublanc: it has been even added that his successor, named by ordinance, was M. Cauchy. This is a double error. M. Cauchy, certainly a sufficiently learned mathematician to have been elected by ballot, was named by ordinance, but in the place of Monge; and the Emperor did not leave his ancient prefect, M. de Vaublanc, the petty pleasure of depriving him of his place.

At the sitting of the 10th of April, 1815, M. LefévreGineau, the President, read a letter from Carnot, then Minister of the Interior, in these words:

"It is the wish of his Majesty, that the class should name a successor to the place which he occupies in the section of mechanics. His name will remain at the head of this division, as protector, with mention of the date at which he was elected a private member."

The balloting for the successor of the Emperor took place the 8th of May, 1815. M. Molard obtained the majority of votes. His nomination was approved by Napoleon the 15th of the same month.

[ocr errors][merged small]

When one understands a subject thoroughly, he loves to speak about it. M. Cuvier, the most learned man we have had in France for many years, was extremely fond of discoursing on scientific subjects, and sometimes spoke at great length. The Emperor, also well informed, though in a very inferior degree, was fond of hearing scientific discussions, provided always that they were brought, without too much preamble, to the solution of some problem.

One evening M. Cuvier was at the Tuileries; it was immediately after a sitting of the Academy of Sciences. "M. Cuvier," said the Emperor, "what have you done to-day at the Academy?"

"Sire, we were occupied with the red-beet."

"Very well, M. Cuvier; then does the Academy think that the soil of France is suited to the cultivation of the red-beet?"

M. Cuvier, thinking that some pre-occupation had distracted the attention of the Emperor, commenced his dissertation ab ovo, and continued it to its end. Napoleon, who had not requested so long an explanation, set himself to thinking of something else. When M. Cuvier had concluded, he addressed him in these words:

"I thank you very much, M. Cuvier. The first time that I see Berthollet, I will ask him if the soil of France is suited to the cultivation of the red-beet.

MICHAUD,

OF THE COMEDIE FRANCAISE.

I have remarked, that Napoleon, when Emperor, did not tolerate the slightest appearance of familiarity even on the part of those whom he had known and loved at an earlier period of his life. He never forgot services rendered him at a time when fortune had not yet favored him; but he was an Emperor, and wished every one to recollect it. Talma, into whose box at the theatre General Bonaparte often went, and at whose table, while a General, he was often a guest, found his reception by the Emperor the more kind in proportion as he appeared to forget the past. The Emperor made | Talma's fortune two or three times, without ever letting the great tragedian perceive that he found his expenses extravagant; but then Talma had formerly opened his purse to the young General when out of favor, and Napoleon thought it but just to repay, as an Emperor, the loans that had been made to himself as a General.

Michaud had also known General Bonaparte: I will not say that he had rendered him any service; a kindness generally costs something, and generosity was not the distinguishing quality of Michaud; but he was gay, witty, amusing, and, as such, was liked. The Emperor had preserved an agreeable recollection of his acquaintance with him; and if he did not admit him entirely, as he did Talma, to his intimacy, he, at least, showed himself generous and kind.

In 1809, the favor which Michaud had enjoyed up to that time, suddenly ceased. He received, however, on many occasions, rich presents; but he never appeared at the Tuileries, except with the actors of the Comédie Française, when regularly summoned. This species of disgrace was attributed by himself to the following circumstance:

Michaud had been named Director of the theatres of the court, as successor to Dazincourt: in this character he had superintended the representations given at Paris, at St. Cloud, and at Fontainebleau: in this, at least, consisted the official part of his duties. He had others which were not less agreeable. The princesses

of the imperial family were fond of playing in private] theatrical representations, and it was Michaud's duty to hear them recite their parts, and to direct the stage management of these exhibitions. The Emperor, when not too much employed, took pleasure in attending their rehearsals: he frequently even consented to fill the office of prompter. All went off very well if the parts were committed to memory, and the actors and actresses did not show themselves too gauches; but if otherwise, the Emperor never suppressed his impatience, and, after a few severe criticisms, generally ended by throwing the pamphlet containing the play at the head of the actor or actress, who showed any deficiency in memory or propriety of action.

"I have never given any lessons in declamation to the Emperor; he had no need of them; and, as for my part, I have often been very glad to copy his attitudes, and to profit by his advice. I have played Nero this evening; I have been frequently, and I may say, justly applauded. It is a part which I play well-of which I am master: it is to the Emperor that I am indebted for playing it well. He had come one evening to the representation of Britannicus. The next morning I went to the Tuileries; he was pleased to permit me often to approach him. 'I saw you play Nero, yesterday,' said the Emperor, observing me, and I think you are deceived in the character. Nero is an Emperor, it is true. If you had to represent him on a triumphal car, in the midst of senators, I could well conceive the air of grandeur which you attribute to him. But in Britannicus, Nero is paying his court to a young woman, and disputes with her mother. The scenes are those of pri

One can easily imagine that the imperial court, thus travestied to a stage for comic representations, would necessarily lose much of its dignity; and that it would require a good deal of caution for one not to forget the titles of sire, your majesty, or imperial highness. Mi-vate life; and there is no occasion to hoist an Emperor chaud contained himself as well as he could; but he did not always succeed in confining himself within those respectful bounds which the master of the place, even then, exacted. Michaud took great quantities of snuff; and snuffers well know how difficult it is for lovers of tobacco to see a pinch taken at their side, without stretching out the hand in the direction of the open box. In the course of the rehearsals Michaud found himself very often near the Emperor, who took several pinches every minute. In a moment of distraction, and obeying an impulse entirely mechanical, Michaud happened to introduce his fingers into the snuff-preciated the justness of these reflections, and I was led, box of the Emperor. Nothing more was necessary. Napoleon first discontinued his visits to the rehearsals; afterwards the rehearsals themselves ceased, and the princesses no longer played their private comedies.

The imprudent actor thus lost in a moment the best part of his duties.

A LESSON IN DECLAMATION,

It has been said and repeated, that Talma was in the habit of giving the Emperor lessons in declamation, and that he taught him to study his attitudes, and to ennoble his manner, when about to appear in any great ceremony. Talma never gave him lessons of any kind; but, on the contrary, received them from him, and even in the tragic art. I will state here, by the way, that Talma loved Napoleon as one loves God; he never spoke, without the liveliest emotion, of one who had been his benefactor, after having been his friend. When Talma, at the conclusion of one of those parts, which required such profound study, and such long meditation, came to rest himself in the dressing room of the theatre, he almost invariably fell into a fit of drowsiness, unless the conversation turned on the Revolution, or the Emperor; these two words had the power of immediately arousing him. He would then speak, and with a wit and charm that no one can describe.

One evening he had played Nero in Britannicus. The representation was over, and he was resting himself in the dressing-room, waiting the announcement of his carriage; some one spoke of the famous lessons in declamation which it was said he had given the Emperor. Talma replied quickly;

upon a pedestal, to make him utter what you have said yourself a hundred times. An Emperor has not, simply because he is an Emperor, the less a wife, a mistress, a mother, &c.; and when he wishes to speak to his wife, to his mistress, to his sister, he does not clothe himself in his imperial costume, that he may remain an emperor; he does not address them a pompous harangue, to ascertain if they are well. In thus mounting us on stilts, you would make one believe Emperors were not men. Reflect on this, and in ten days I will call for Britannicus, and go to see you play.' I had long ap

in consequence, to introduce those innovations in the tragic art, which were so long censured, but which are at length approved. When the Emperor spoke to me, I still sacrificed to the bad taste of the times; his councils were an encouragement to free myself from all human respect. I played Nero as I had comprehended the part-as the Emperor comprehended it. The first time I was only applauded by him; but the public at last understood it, and suffered itself to be more affected, in proportion as I appeared to make fewer efforts to obtain that result."

After a momentary silence, Talma resumed-"I have given, in the course of my life, very few lessons in declamation. I have sometimes aided, with my advice, young players in whom I perceived promising talents. Moreover, I am convinced that the dramatic art is not to be taught. To speak accurately, I never gave any such lessons but on one occasion, and it was under these circumstances:

"I received, one day, the visit of a young Russian, who was particularly recommended to me; he was of high birth, and possessed a great fortune. After a few words of politeness, he asked me if I would consent to give him a few lessons in declamation. I replied that it was not my custom, and that I would not have time to do so. He insisted with much earnestness, and, at the moment that I saw him about to make me offers of money, I interrupted him, by saying-'I will give you no lessons, but come and see me, and, if you wish, we will converse on tragedy, literature, and the art of oratory.'

"This young man had singularly pleased me; he expressed himself with a warmth and energy which gave me a high opinion of his intelligence. He return

6

ed, and I commenced by offering to read; I took up a tragedy, and read two or three scenes. That is very fine,' he said, but I wish to hear you recite something else.' My library was open; he went to it, and brought me a volume of Tacitus, pointing with his finger to a harangue to a Roman army. 'You understand,' he said, 'I do not intend myself for the stage; but I belong to a country which, a long time enslaved, is beginning to break its chains. They have inoculated us with liberty, in making us breathe the air of France; sooner or later a terrible revolution will break out in Russia, where heretofore there have been only revolutions of the palace. With this conviction, a man who feels that he has spirit and energy, ought to prepare himself for his part, and I am studying mine. I wish to know how to speak; I wish to obtain from you the secret of moving the mass.'

"Come, come, we have not a minute to lose; they are about to begin."

"No, certainly, I will not go; I would dream of it for six weeks.”

"What a child you are! One should see a little of every thing in this world. I assure you it is very curious."

And Lekain, seizing his friend's arm, led him on in spite of himself. They reached the Place de Grève in company, and at the words, "let this gentleman pass— he is an amateur !" the ranks opened before Lekain, and closed against Desfontaines, with whom none of those employed about the Place were acquainted.

Lekain, feeling that he had lost the arm of Desfontaines, turned back, and beheld his friend separated from him by a line of soldiers. "Let this gentleman pass," said the tragedian, "he is the executioner of

"I saw him frequently afterwards; he subsequently Orleans." returned to Russia."

Talma, in this conversation, had pronounced a Russian name which I forgot almost immediately. Afterwards I received the details of the conspiracy which broke out at St. Petersburgh on the death of Alexander; in reading over the names of three superior officers who had been condemned to death and executed, one of them struck me particularly; in reading it, I imagined that I still heard the word pronounced by Talma.

LEKAIN.

Talma was fond of speaking of Lekain, and it was from him that I heard the particulars I am about to recite.

Lekain was a great amateur of executions. He never omitted any opportunity of seeing a man hung, broken on the wheel, or quartered. This celebrated tragedian was so well known at the Place de Grève, that the first of the executioner's assistants, who observed him, was accustomed to make a sign to his comrades and the soldiers of the guard, saying-"let this gentleman pass he is an amateur !" And Lekain, who could not claim the privilege of the nobles, of standing on the scaffold during executions, was admitted, without difficulty, within the enclosure surrounding it.

The Parliament of Paris had condemned a man to be broken alive on the wheel. The day of execution had arrived, and Lekain was going, in great haste, to the Place de Grève, not wishing, as he said, to be absent at the raising of the curtain, and desiring to see every thing, from the first preparations to the final stroke that the executioner was accustomed to give the patient, after he had separately broken all his limbs.

On the way he met, by accident, one of his most intimate friends, Desfontaines, a mild, modest man, very much esteemed as a man of letters, and to whom we are indebted for a translation of Virgil in prose, and two or three tragedies, even the titles of which have been long forgotten.

At this revered name the ranks were again opened, and Lekain, seizing hold of Desfontaines, drew him towards the scaffold, and there, like a true cicerone, explained the particular use of each instrument of torture.

Desfontaines, to his great displeasure, was forced to witness all the details of the execution. When terminated, he retired with Lekain, greatly distressed in his mind and feelings.

“I am going to play at Fontainebleau,” said Lekain, on leaving him. "They are about to represent a new piece at the Comédie Française this evening; you will much oblige me by writing me, after the performance, if the play has succeeded. On carrying your letter to the carriages of the court, you will find some one to take charge of it "

"I will do so."

Desfontaines returned home. The words "executioner of Orleans," the title which had been so unexpectedly given him, could not get out of his head. He thought of it till night; it followed him even to the theatre: it was with difficulty that he could pay attention to the performance.

The piece was successful. As soon as the author was named, Desfontaines hastened to quit the theatre, wrote a note, and carried it to the stand whence the carriages of the court set off. Only one remained, which was intended for the Prince of Condé ; the door was open, and the Prince was already preparing to enter, when Desfontaines stopped him, and requested that he would, on arriving at Fontainebleau, have a letter, which he desired to entrust to him, sent to Lekain. "Very willingly, sir," replied the prince; "but from whom?"

"From his intimate friend."
"His intimate friend, Mr. -?"

The Prince waited for a name, which Desfontaines, distracted, sought in vain; at last the unfortunate designation of the morning again got possession of his mind.

"His intimate friend," replied he, "the executioner

"Come with me," said Lekain, "I wish you to see a of Orleans." very curious exhibition."

"What is it?"

He immediately quitted the place. The Prince was at first astonished at this singular intimacy between the "An execution! a man is about to be broken on the celebrated actor and an executioner; but as he saw wheel; it is a thing that one must see." nothing physically impossible in such a friendship, he Desfontaines at first only replied by a gesture of ceased to think about it, until, on his arrival at Fontainebleau, he had occasion to send the letter to its ad

horror.

dress. A servant was sent to inform Lekain that the Prince of Condé desired to speak to him. Lekain came immediately.

"Here, sir, is a letter which a person who calls himself your intimate friend, charged me to have delivered to you."

"I ought to inform you, gentlemen, who the person is to whom you speak. I am the executioner of Paris. I have married my daughter to the son of one of my professional brethren, and we are celebrating the marriage."

At this announcement, the young gentlemen hesi

“Ah, yes! I have the honor to thank your highness. tated a moment; but quickly resuming their gaiety, It is in fact from one of my best friends."

"Is he, indeed, your intimate friend?" "Undoubtedly, my lord."

and smiling at the idea of being able to say, in the salons of Versailles,-" we have danced at the house of the executioner of Paris," they replied, "Sir, we

"Permit me, then, to say that you choose your are delighted to form your acquaintance in this place. friends in singular professions."

Your tone and manner reconcile us at once to one

"But, my lord, he is a very distinguished literary man." whose title, we must confess, cannot always be pro"A literary man! in truth?" nounced without shuddering."

"Yes, my lord, we are indebted to him for some highly esteemed translations-even for some tragedies." "Tragedies! tragedies!-say then that he has executed the dénouement."

"Yes, my lord, the dénouement, and the other parts also." “The devil! I did not know that France was so happy as to possess a literary executioner." "How! an executioner, my lord ?"

As soon as they were introduced, the young nobles hastened to engage themselves to the handsomest women in the room, and to commence the dance.

M. de Lally, affected, without knowing why, remained alone near the master of the house, and commenced interrogating him.

"You do not yourself, sir, act as executioner ?"
"Not generally-I have aids; I only assist them.

"Yes! I asked the gentleman who he was? he But should the person condemned be a great noble—if replied, the executioner of Orleans."

At this moment Lekain recalled the events of the morning; he was unable to restrain his bursts of laughter, and had the greatest difficulty in explaining to the Prince the circumstances that gave rise to so ridiculous a mistake.

it were you, sir, for example, I should regard it as a duty, as an honor, to act myself.

M. de Lally forced a smile, and shortly withdrew. Fifteen years afterwards, almost to the very day, this same executioner cut off the head of M. de Lally. Should you at this day go into the street des Marais,

The Prince of Condé amused the whole court with in the rear of the Diorama, and knock at the door of a the recital of the adventure.

M. DE LALLY,

AND THE EXECUTIONER OF PARIS.

There are many extraordinary coincidences in actual life. M. de Lally, before going to seek in India the command which terminated so fatally for him, was, while at Paris, a young man of elegant appearance, gallant, thoughtless, devoted to pleasure, and full of riotous mirth, as a great name permitted one to be with impunity.

One night, M. de Lally and some boon companions, after a drinking frolic, traversed the streets of the capital, seeking to amuse themselves at the expense of such of the lower classes as they could find at that late hour. Suddenly, in the little street of Saint Jean, generally so quiet, they heard the music of a party of dancers. Looking up, they discover the windows of an apartment in the third story brilliantly illuminated. There it is, they exclaimed, at the same moment: they are dancing-let us go up and join them. No sooner said than done. They ring at the door; a man with a frank and open countenance receives them.

"Sir," said M. de Lally to him, "we are gentlemen; we are very fond of dancing. Chance has brought us into your part of the city. We heard music, and were unable to resist the wish to ask you to permit us to join in your amusements. Do not refuse us; I will guarantee you shall have no cause to repent of your politeness."

house of a handsome appearance, without a number, you will be received by a man whose person very much resembles that of Louis XVI; he will accost you politely, and reply to your questions without the least repugnance. He will show you his library; for he amuses himself a great deal with literature. If you ask him, he will tell you that he would give half his fortune, very lawfully acquired, for the abolition of the punishment of death.

Without requiring to be much pressed, he will show you his museum,—a little guillotine in mahogany, and a large cutlass. The guillotine is the first model of this instrument ever made; the cutlass is that with which the gentlemen, who, under the ancien régime, enjoyed the privilege of not being hung, were decapitated. After having showed you a large gap at the edge of the cutlass, he will tell you:

"In the time of my father, the nobles of the court had the right of remaining on the platform of the scaffold during executions. When M. de Lally had his head cut off, a young noble accidentally struck against my father's arm, turned aside the stroke, and the blade was broken against a tooth."

THE DUCHESS OF C*****
NOW DUCHESS OF D****.

There lived, about forty years since, an old Duke, whose principality, in the event of his dying without heir, was to revert to the crown of Russia. This old Duke had passed sixty years of his life in a state of

"Very willingly, gentlemen; but before entering, constant hostility against the Emperor and the Russian you must be informed who it is you visit."

"Of what importance is that! Your language proves that you have been well educated; we think we shall not be out of our sphere in your house."

government. He was without children, and saw with despair the moment approach, when his death would be the means of enriching those he so cordially detested.

VOL. III.-49

« 上一頁繼續 »