Personal Sketches of His Own Times, Vol. 2 (of 3)

37

When I first saw Mrs. Jordan’s abode at St. Cloud, it was on a dismal, chilly winter’s day, and I was myself in corresponding mood. Hence perhaps every cheerless object was exaggerated, and I wrote on the spot the above description. I have again viewed the place: again beheld with melancholy interest the sofa on which Mrs. Jordan breathed her last. There it still, I believe, remains; but the whole premises have been repaired, and an English family has now one wing, together with an excellent garden, before overgrown with weeds: the two melancholy cypress-trees I first saw upon the little terrace yet remain. The surrounding prospect is undoubtedly very fine; but I would not, even were I made a present of that mansion, consent to reside in it one month; – in winter, not one night!

38

He proposed, and superficially effected, a reconciliation between me and Lord Castlereagh: it had no good practical effect for me, but occasioned a very important episode in my history, which I may hereafter mention, though not in the present work.

39

An ancient law still appears among the statutes of Ireland to prohibit the natives of that country from using the words Crum-a-boo, and Butler-a-hoo, as being the watchwords of two most troublesome hostile factions, which kept, at the period of the prohibition, the whole nation in a state of uproar. In my mind, a revival of that salutary enactment would not be amiss just now. A similar case (as regards the existing state of things) may be easily made out; and, as we lawyers say, “like case like rule.” As the statute is still upon our books, there is a precedent at hand, and it will only be necessary to amend it by changing the two terms Crum-a-boo and Butler-a-hoo, into Ascendancy-a-boo and Emancipation-a-hoo! The penalty for raising these cries might be the treadmill; and there can be little doubt that so wholesome a measure would speedily tranquillise the country, and save a good deal of rope, some anatomising, and the turning religion into a subject for debating societies.

40

I allude here more particularly to the clerical justices of Ireland. I believe I only coincide with some of the first English lawyers of this day, in maintaining that clergymen should confine themselves to spiritual and charitable duties, in doing justice to which ample occupation would be afforded them.

41

I lately met rather a noted corporator of Dublin in Paris. Of course I did not spare my interrogations as to the existing state of things; and in the course of conversation I asked why, after the king’s visit to Dublin, and his conciliatory admonitions, the corporation still appeared to prefer the Boyne Water and King William? “Lord bless you, Sir Jonah! (replied the corporator) as for the wather, we don’t care a rap dam about that; but if we once gave up ould King William, we’d give up all our plisures! Only for the ‘glorious mimory’ we would not have a toast now to get drunk with – eh! Sir Jonah? ha! ha! ha!” To humour the corporator, I did not hesitate to join in the hearty laugh which he set up in satisfaction at his own waggery.

42

In the years 1815 and 16, the very frequent quarrels between the French and English gave rise to a curious embarrassment. The French would only fight with the sword, the English with the pistol; it was impossible to please both parties: however the French soon put the matter into a course of equality. Schools to teach pistol-firing were established in divers parts of Paris: the best “point-blankers” were provided. Each student paid a small fee for ten shots and proper instructions: they began by firing at a large baby; first, at his body, then his head, and at length at his eye. The young Frenchmen soon became the very best shots I ever saw: even “Sligo” now need not be ashamed of them. Hence quarrels have grown far less frequent; indeed rare, but generally fatal: that accounts for it.

43

There were others, but I knew them not. One mysterious person I was then well acquainted with. I have for several years past lost sight of him; and never could find out who he was. He was clever, intelligent, and actively friendly: obviously not rich, and as obviously not poor. – I should be glad to see him again.

44

I have often thought that the Mameluke who had always been retained by Napoleon about his person had some very deep reason for his ultimate desertion; and to this moment that circumstance appears to me to leave just grounds for a suspicion that his fidelity had long been shaken.

45

One of the devices to prevent the accumulation of petty larceny, in the court of Common Pleas of Ireland, was very amusing. Lord Norbury’s register, Mr. Peter Jackson, complained grievously to his lordship that he really could not afford to supply the court with Gospels or Prayer-books, as witnesses, after they had taken their oaths, were in the constant habit of stealing the book! “Peter,” said Lord Norbury, “if the rascals read the book, it will do them more good than the petty larceny may do them mischief.” – “Read or not read,” urged Peter, “they are rogues, that’s plain. I have tied the book fast, but nevertheless they have contrived to loosen and abstract it.” – “Well, well!” replied my lord, “if they are not afraid of the cord, hang your Gospel in chains, and that perhaps, by reminding the fellows of the fate of some of their fathers and grandfathers, may make them behave themselves.” Peter Jackson took the hint: provided a good-looking, well-bound New Testament, which he secured with a strong jack-chain that had evidently done duty, and well, before the kitchen-fire, and was made fast to the rail of the jury gallery. Thus, the holy volume being gibbeted, had free scope to swing about and clink as much as it chose, to the great terror of witnesses, and good order of the jurors themselves.

46

Another observation I cannot but make on this subject. – As events have turned out, Napoleon only sat down on the throne of France to keep it for the Bourbons. Had he remained a republican, as when we acknowledged and made peace with him, the names of the whole family of Louis would still have appeared on the pension list of England.

47

I have read with pleasure many parts of “Napoleon’s Second Reign,” by Mr. Hobhouse. Though I do not coincide with that gentleman in all his views of the subject, (differing from him in toto as to some,) I admit the justice of a great portion of his observations, and consider the work, on the whole, as a very clever performance. In several matters of description and anecdote he has anticipated me; and I really think has treated them with as much accuracy, and in a much more comprehensive manner, than I should, or perhaps could have done. Mine in fact is but a sketch – his a history. In some matters of fact he appears to have been imperfectly informed: but they are not errors of a sufficiently important nature to involve any charge of general inaccuracy. I myself kept an ample diary of the events of the Hundred Days, (of so much of them at least as I spent in Paris,) and until the re-entry of Louis; and in fact subsequently, though less regularly. From these documents I have extracted what I now publish; but the whole may perhaps hereafter appear in its original shape.

I cannot but express my regret that Mr. Hobhouse did not remain in Paris until after Napoleon’s return from Belgium, when there was a far wider and fairer field presented for the exercise of his pen. I really conceive it will be a loss to literature if he does not recur to that period (materials cannot be wanting): take up his own work where he finished, and continue it until the evacuation of Paris by the allied forces. The events of that interval are richly worth recording; and it would fill up what is, as yet, nearly a blank in the history of Europe.

48

The writer of that letter, whose real politics I was extremely doubtful of, but which I afterward perceived were unfixed and speculative, lived to become an ultra loyalist. He was a British subject, and a bigot in every thing: his prejudices pro or con were invincible. He died long since the first edition of this book was published.

49

I visited the spot a few days subsequently, and found that noble hall, which had been totally lined by the finest mirrors, without one remaining. I never saw such useless and wanton devastation as had been committed. I learned that it was the Cossacks who broke all the mirrors, looking for money behind them.

50

Since the first edition of this work, most unexpected events have taken place in the state of England and her relative situation with the continent. The admirable policy of Canning has opened the eyes of Europe, and supplanted the despotism of the Holy Alliance by principles of a liberal and enlightened nature. The first practical effect of this has been seen in Greece. The battle of Navarino has done more toward exciting cordiality between the French and English people than any person can suppose, who has not witnessed its extraordinary effects in France, both on the people and the government.

51

These words were used to me by Mr. Secretary Cook, at the moment, in Paris. But the truth was, our generals and diplomatists then on the spot knew but little and cared less about the fine arts or belles lettres.

52

Nothing could be more hostile than the feelings of the French were, at that period, to the allies; – the Prussians they hated inveterately; the English next in proportion. Their detestation of the Prussians remains still in full vigour, and, indeed, daily increases: their animosity to the English is extinguished. The French clearly see that both interest and pleasure are the result of a friendly intercourse with us, and I think it is cementing fast, and ought to be cultivated by the respective governments. They are a fine people. England and France never should be enemies: there is world enough for both: united, they might command Europe as far as Smolensko; that is the “Rubicon Russe.” The liberal policy of Mr. Canning’s government made an incredible and most rapid impression on the French nation: the old and savage principle that England and France were natural enemies is totally at an end: they may be occasionally political, but not natural adversaries.

I have never seen popular gratification more strong or more general than that of the French on hearing of the battle of Navarino; nor have I ever yet seen a feeling of generous liberality and growing friendship more pure and unequivocal than was evinced by the French military and people at the cordiality with which their fleets and ours mingled in battle. Their having been led to victory by an Englishman, so far from creating jealousy, delighted them.