did not appear to feel it so deeply as we had anticipated; and of him, individually, they were more disposed to speak in terms of ridicule than of indignation. "Il est parti pour l'ile d'Elbe (said they)—bon voyage!" It was obvious that public affairs, even in those critical moments, occupied much less of their attention than of persons of the same rank in England: their spirits are much less easily depressed; and it was easy to see that their domestic affections are less powerful. The men shewed much jealousy of the allied troops: said they were superior to the French only in numbers; and often repeated, that one French soldier was equal to two Russians.
Although the old men and women whom we saw in the villages were generally in the most abject condition, yet the labourers employed in the fields appeared nearly as well dressed as the corresponding class in England; their wages were stated to be, over most of the country, from one franc to 25 sous a-day, and in the immediate neighbourhood of Paris, to be as high as two, or even three francs. In some places, we saw them dining on bread, pork, and cyder; but the scarcity of live stock was such, that it was impossible to suppose that they usually enjoyed so good a fare. The interior of the cottages appeared, generally, to be ill furnished.
Every village and town through which we passed between Boulogne and Paris contained a number of the allied troops. At Beauvais, a town remarkable for its singular appearance, being almost entirely built of wood, and likewise for the beauty of its cathedral, the choir of which is reckoned the finest in France, we were first gratified with the sight of some hundreds of Russians, horse and foot, under arms. These troops were of the finest description, and belonged to the corps of the celebrated Wigtenstein.
We enquired of many of the lower people, in the towns and villages through which we passed, concerning the conduct of the allied troops in their quarters, and the answers were almost uniformly—from the men, "Ils se comportent bien;" (frequently with the addition, "mais ils mangent comme des diables:")—and from the women, "Ils sont de bons enfans." We had very frequent opportunities of remarking the truth of the observation, that "women have less bitterness against the enemies of their country than men." The Parisian ladies adopted fashions from the uniforms of almost all the allied troops whom they saw in Paris; many of them were exceedingly anxious for opportunities of seeing the Emperor of Russia, and the most distinguished leaders of the armies that had conquered France; and those who were acquainted with officers of rank belonging to these armies appeared, on all occasions, to be highly flattered with the attentions they received from them. The same was observable in the conduct of the lower ranks. In the suburbs of Paris, and in the neighbouring villages, where many of the allied troops were quartered, they appeared always on the best terms with the female inhabitants, and were often to be seen assisting them in their work, playing at the battledore and shuttlecock with them in the streets, or strolling in their company along the banks of the Seine, and through the woods of Belleville or St. Cloud, evidently to the satisfaction of both parties. Much must be allowed for the national levity of the French; yet it may be doubted, whether the officers and soldiers of a victorious army are ever, in the first instance, very obnoxious to the females, even of a vanquished country.
CHAPTER II.
PARIS—THE ALLIED ARMIES.
To those whose attention had been long fixed on the great political revulsion which had brought the wandering tribes of the Wolga and the Don into the heart of France, and whose minds had been incessantly occupied for many months previous to the time of which we speak, (as the minds of almost all Englishmen had been), with wishes for the success, and admiration of the exploits, of the brave troops who then occupied Paris, it may naturally be supposed, that even all the wonders of that capital were, in the first instance, objects of secondary consideration. It was not until our curiosity had been satisfied by the sight of the Emperor Alexander, the Duke of Wellington, Marshal Blucher, Count Platoff, and such numbers of the Russian and Prussian officers and soldiers, as we considered a fair specimen of the whole armies, that we could find time to appreciate the beauties even of the Apollo and the Venus.
The streets of Paris are always amusing and interesting, from the numbers and varieties of costumes and characters which they present; but at the time of which we speak, they might be considered as exhibiting an epitome of the greater part of Europe. Parties of Russian cuirassiers, Prussian lancers, and Hungarian hussars; Cossacks, old and young, from those whose beards were grey with age, to those who were yet beardless, cantering along after their singular fashion—their long lances poised on their stirrups, and loosely fastened to their right arms, vibrating over their heads; long files of Russian and Prussian foragers, and long trains of Austrian baggage waggons, winding slowly through the crowd; idle soldiers of all services, French as well as allied, lounging about in their loose great coats and trowsers, with long crooked pipes hanging from their mouths; patroles of infantry parading about under arms, composed half of Russian grenadiers, and half of Parisian national guards; Russian coaches and four, answering to the description of Dr. Clarke, the postillions riding on the off-horses, and dressed almost like beggars; Russian carts drawn by four horses a-breast, and driven by peasants in the national costume; Polish Jews, with long black beards, dressed in black robes like the cassocks of English clergymen, with broad leathern belts—all mingled with the Parisian multitude upon the Boulevards: and in the midst of this indiscriminate assemblage, all the business, and all the amusements of Paris, went on with increased alacrity and fearless confidence. The Palais Royal was crowded, morning, noon, and night, with Russian and Prussian officers in full uniform, decorated with orders, whose noisy merriment, cordial manners, and careless profusion, were strikingly contrasted with the silence and sullenness of the French officers.
It is fortunately superfluous for us to enlarge on the appearance, or on the character of the Emperor Alexander. We were struck with the simplicity of the style in which he lived. He inhabited only one or two apartments in a wing of the splendid Elysee Bourbon—slept on a leather mattress, which he had used in the campaign—rose at four in the morning, to transact business—wore the uniform of a Russian General, with only the medal of 1812, (the same which is worn by every soldier who served in that campaign, with the inscription, in Russ, Non nobis sed tibi Domine); had a French guard at his door—went out in a chaise and pair, with a single servant and no guards, and was very regular in his attendance at a small chapel, where the service of the Greek church was performed. We had access to very good information concerning him, and the account which we received of his character even exceeded our anticipation. His well-known humanity was described to us as having undergone no change from the scenes of misery inseparable from extended warfare, to which his duties, rather than his inclinations, had so long habituated him. He repeatedly left behind him, in marching with the army, some of the medical men of his own staff, to dress the wounds of French soldiers whom he passed on the way; and it was a standing order of his to his hospital staff, to treat wounded Russians and French exactly alike.
His conduct at the battle of Fere Champenoise, a few days before the capture of Paris, of which we had an account from eye-witnesses, may give an idea of his conduct while with the armies. The French column, consisting of about 5000 infantry, with some artillery, was attacked by the advanced guard of the allies, consisting of cavalry, with some horse-artillery, under his immediate orders. It made a desperate resistance, and its capture being an object of great importance, he sent away all his guards, even the Cossacks, and exposed himself to the fire of musketry for a long time, directing the movements of the troops. When the French squares were at length broken by the repeated charges of cavalry and Cossacks, he threw himself into the middle of them, at a great personal risk, that he might restrain the fury of the soldiers, exasperated by the obstinacy of the resistance; and although he could not prevent the whole French officers and men from being completely pillaged, many of them owed their lives to his interference. The French commander was brought to him, and offered him his sword, which he refused to accept, saying, he had defended himself too well.
The wife and children of a General who had been with the French army, were brought to him, and he placed a guard over them, which was overpowered in the confusion. The unfortunate woman was never more heard of, but he succeeded in recovering the children, had a bed made for them in his own tent,