Travels in France during the years 1814-15. Patrick Fraser Tytler

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СКАЧАТЬ while, in the farthest distance, the towers of St. Denis, and the heights of Paris, form an irregular outline on the verge of the horizon. It is a scene exhibiting the most beautiful aspect of cultivated nature, and would have been the fit residence for a Monarch who loved to survey his subjects' happiness: but it was deserted by the miserable weakness of Louis XIV., because the view terminated in the cemetery of the Kings of France, and his enjoyment of it would have been destroyed by the thoughts of mortal decay.

      Versailles, which that monarch chose as the ordinary abode of his splendid Court, is less favourably situate for a royal dwelling, though the view from the great front of the palace is beautifully clothed with luxuriant woods. The palace itself is a magnificent building of great extent, loaded with the riches of architectural beauty, but destitute of that fine proportion and lightness of ornament, which spread so indescribable a charm over the Palace of the Louvre. The interior is in a state of lamentable decay, having been pillaged at the commencement of the revolutionary fury, and formed into a barrack for the republican soldiers, the marks of whose violence are still visible in the faded splendour of its magnificent apartments. They still shew, however, the favourite rooms of Marie Antoinette, the walls of which are covered with the finest mirrors, and some remains of the furniture are still preserved, which even the licentious fury of the French army seems to have been afraid to violate. The gardens on which all the riches of France, and all the efforts of art, were so long lavished, present a painful monument of the depravity of taste: but the Petit Trianon, which is a little palace built of marble, and surrounded by shrubberies in the English style, exhibits the genuine beauty of which the imitation of nature is susceptible. This palace contains a suite of splendid apartments, fitted up with singular taste, and adorned with a number of charming pictures; it was the favourite residence of Maria Louisa, and we were there shewn the drawing materials which she used, and some unfinished sketches which she left, in which, we were informed, she much delighted, and which bore the marks of a cultivated taste.

      We frequently enquired concerning the character and occupations of this Empress, at all the palaces where she usually dwelt, and uniformly received the same answer:—She was everywhere represented as cold, proud, and haughty in her manner, and unconciliating in her ordinary address. Her time was much spent in private, in the exercise of religious duty, or in needle-work and drawing; and her favourite seat at St. Cloud was between two windows, from one of which she had a view over the beautiful woods which clothe the banks of the river, and from the other a distant prospect of the towers and domes of Paris.

      Very different was the character which belonged to the former Empress, the first wife of Bonaparte, Josephine: She passed the close of her life at the delightful retreat of Malmaison, a villa charmingly situated on the banks of the Seine, seven miles from Paris, on the road to St. Germain. This villa had been her favourite residence while she continued Empress, and formed her only home after the period of her divorce;—here she lived in obscurity and retirement, without any of the pomp of a court, or any of the splendour which belonged to her former rank—occupied entirely in the employment of gardening, or in alleviating the distresses of those around her. The shrubberies and gardens were laid out with singular beauty, in the English taste, and contained a vast variety of rare flowers, which she had for a long period been collecting. These shrubberies were to her the source of never-failing enjoyment; she spent many hours in them every day, working herself, or superintending the occupations of others; and in these delightful occupations seemed to return again to all the innocence and happiness of youth. She was beloved to the greatest degree by all the poor who inhabited the vicinity of her retreat, both for the gentleness of her manner, and her unwearied attention to their sufferings and their wants; and during the whole period of her retirement, she retained the esteem and affection of all classes of French citizens. The Emperor Alexander visited her repeatedly during the stay of the allied armies in Paris; and her death occasioned an universal feeling of regret, rarely to be met with amidst the corruption and selfishness of the French metropolis.

      There was something singularly striking in the history and character of this remarkable woman:—Born in a humble station, without any of the advantages which rank or education could afford, she was early involved in all the unspeakable miseries of the French revolution, and was extricated from her precarious situation only by being united to that extraordinary man, whose crimes and whose ambition have spread misery through every country of Europe: Rising through all the gradations of rank through which he passed, she everywhere commanded the esteem and regard of all those who had access to admire her private virtues; and when at length she was raised to the rank of Empress, she graced the imperial throne with all the charities and virtues of a humbler station. She bore, with unexampled magnanimity, the sacrifice of power and of influence which she was compelled to make: She carried into the obscurity of humble life all the dignity of mind which befitted the character of an Empress of France; and exercised, in the delightful occupations of country life, or in the alleviation of the severity of individual distress, that firmness of mind and gentleness of disposition, with which she had lightened the weight of imperial dominion, and softened the rigour of despotic power.

      The Forest of Fontainbleau exhibits scenery of a more picturesque and striking character than is to be met with in any other part of the north of France. It is situated 40 miles from Paris, on the great road to Rome, and the appearance of the country through which this road runs, is for the most part flat and uninteresting. It runs through a continued plain, in a straight line between tall rows of elm trees, whose lower branches are uniformly cut off for firewood to the peasantry; and exhibits, for the most part, no other feature than the continued riches of agricultural produce. At the distance of seven miles from the town of Fontainbleau, you first discern the forest, covering a vast ridge of rocks, stretching as far as the eye can reach, from right to left, and presenting a dark irregular outline on the surface of the horizon. The cultivation continues, with all its uniformity, to the very foot of the ridge; but the moment you pass the boundaries of the forest, you find yourself surrounded at once with all the wildness and luxuriance of natural scenery. The surface of the ground is broken and irregular, rising at times into vast piles of shapeless rocks, and enclosing at others small vallies, in which the wood grows in endless beauty, unblighted by the chilling blasts of northern climates. In these vallies, the oak, the ash, and the beech, exhibit the peculiar magnificence of forest scenery, while, on the neighbouring hills, the birch waves its airy foliage round the dark masses of rock which terminate the view. Nothing can be conceived more striking than the scenery which this variety of rock and wood produce in every part of this romantic forest. At times you pass through an unbroken mass of aged timber, surrounded by the native grandeur of forest scenery, and undisturbed by any traces of human habitation, except in those rude paths which occasionally open a passing view into the remoter parts of the forest. At others, the path winds through great masses of rock, piled in endless confusion upon each other, in the crevices of which the fern and the heath grow in all the luxuriance of southern vegetation; while their summits are covered by aged oaks of the wildest forms, whose crossing boughs throw an eternal shade over the ravines below, and afford room only to discern at the farthest distance the summits of those beautiful hills, on which the light foliage of the birch trembles in the ray of an unclouded sun, or waves on the blue of a summer heaven.

      To those who have had the good fortune to see the beautiful scenery of the Trosachs in Scotland, of Matlock in Derbyshire, or of the wooded Fells in Cumberland, it may afford some idea of the Forest of Fontainbleau, to say that it combines scenery of a similar description with the aged magnificence of Windsor Forest. Over its whole extent there are scattered many detached oaks of vast dimensions, which seem to be of an older race in the growth of the Forest—whose lowest boughs stretch above the top of the wood which surrounds them—and whose decayed summits afford a striking contrast to the young and luxuriant foliage with which their stems are enveloped. When we visited Fontainbleau, it was occupied by the old imperial guard, which still remained in that station after the abdication of Bonaparte; and we frequently met parties, or detached stragglers of them, wandering in the most solitary parts of the Forest. Their warlike and weather-beaten appearance; their battered arms and worn accoutrements; the dark plumes of their helmets, and the sallow ferocious aspect of their countenances, suited the savage character of the scenery with which they were surrounded, and threw over СКАЧАТЬ