On my arrival at Bourdeaux I proceeded to the Hôtel de Funal, on the Chartrons, which commands a fine and extensive view up the Garonne. I had formerly visited this city, when “commerce proudly flourished in the State;” the river was then covered with a forest of masts the whole length of the Chartrons, which extends four miles in the form of a crescent, and its quays presented a scene of bustle and activity never to be forgotten. What a contrast did it now offer! The few ships in the river were unrigged and their hulls rotting; and a miserably dirty sloop of war displayed the imperial colours as a guard ship, on board which, however, all the ceremonial and etiquette of a man of war seemed to be enforced. Not a boat in activity, except those that ply on the Dordogne and Garonne for passengers; in short, the port and the quays evinced a total stagnation of business.

Hearing that M. Crochard was in the hotel, I paid him a visit, and received from him instructions as to the most agreeable way of living at Bourdeaux. I ordered my dinner according to his advice, commencing with a dish of oysters, which are here of a very fine quality, and found the Sauterne, which by prescription is the only wine drank with these fish, deserving of its celebrity. It may be useful to some of my readers, whose appetites are feeble, to know that oysters are an excellent whetter, taking them immediately before dinner, and not exceeding a dozen at the most, with a small proportion of lemon juice squeezed into each. –– In the evening I accompanied Monsieur and Madame Crochard to the theatre, to see the Médecin malgré lui of Molière, which was followed by a ballet; but it being Saturday, which is the worst day in the week for the receipts of the theatre, the house was very thinly attended.

February 1. In the morning I strolled about the town, and as Bourdeaux is one of the best places in France to get equipped à l’Anglaise, I called at a tailor’s to order some clothes, of which I stood much in need. I also visited a coach maker’s repository, having some idea of purchasing a carriage, but the assortment was chiefly confined to cabriolets, which did not suit me. Like all his countrymen, the coach-maker neglected his business, pour causer, and instead of an eulogium on his carriages, entertained me with a violent philippic against the commercial measures of the moment; and certainly the daily bankruptcies of the first houses in the country, in consequence of the decrees of Buonaparte, are sufficient causes for the complaints of the mercantile class.

In the evening I again went to the theatre, which was now brilliantly attended, the Sabbath being the day of amusement as well as of rest from labour in France. The piece was Cendrillon, [sic] taken from the story so well known to children of the Little Glass Slipper. The music was in general light and cheerful, and among the airs was the “bon voyage à Monsieur du Molet,” at this moment a favourite popular tune throughout France, and of the same stamp as those airs which in England get possession of all classes for a few months, until some fresh nonsense supersedes them; such are Nancy Dawson, the Grinder, Yankee Doodle, &c. to which airs many add verses of their own composition.

The carriage which conveyed Cindrellon to the ball was drawn by real ponies,  and the fat coachman and lackeys came out of a hole on one side of the stage, intended to denote their metamorphosis from rats; the machinery was indeed superlative, and the whole had an admirable effect. The concluding piece was Montano et Stephano. Bourdeaux at this time possessed Mesdames Clairville and Folleville, with Mortelli, all superior performers in the grand opera. In the petit opera it had Mesdames Begran and Lorraine, as first dancers. Of the men Ferdinand was considered the first, and Chou Chou the second; the former was engaged for the opera at Vienna. It is said there is much more difficulty in finding good performers for the comedy and petit opera than for the grand, for which there are always abundance of candidates. The salary of the first men dancers, in the petit opera, is ten thousand francs a year.

In the course of the following day (Feb.2) I visited several parts of the town, and engaged an English party to dine at the Hôtel du Prince, ci-devant Hôtel d’Angleterre, a name which the proprietor found it advisabe [sic] to change in the present government mania against whatever bears any relation to our country, but which he means to restore when this frenzy ceases. Our dinner was uncommonly good, and the wine so delicious, that several of the party who had long been obliged to put up with the wretched Spanish trash, did such credit to the Bourdeaux, that its effects soon began to appear in their merry pranks, which astonished the people of the house, who were not at all accustomed to the freaks of an English drinking party. Indeed a Frenchman, who is ten times more volatile when sober than an Englishman, becomes stupidly serious as the liquor mounts. This trait of national character is doubtless owing to the independent ideas instilled into us from the cradle, and which gives to every individual a peculiarity of manner and of mind. All Frenchmen, on the contrary, resemble each other; being unused to think for themselves, their conversation is made up of quaint sayings and hackneyed bons mots, stupid beyond conception. The sayings of a great man, who has the reputation of possessing de l’esprit, are repeated to satiety. In short, the manners, dress, and address of a Frenchman are equally disgusting, with the exception of the few remains of the old noblesse, who retain the polished manners of their order, so totally opposite to those of the parvenus of the present day.

February 3. In the morning I waited in uniform on General Boisvin, the Commandant de Place, and was shewn into a room by a servant; here I waited some time, and no General appearing, I again sent the servant to announce me, and to inquire if it was convenient for the General to receive me, adding, that my visit was merely of ceremony, and that I had nothing particular to say. On his appearance he seemed surprised, not having been informed by the servant who I was, and the uniform of a British general officer seemed to have an imposing effect; besides, I assumed a distant and dignified air, which made him perceive that I was displeased at being kept waiting, for which, he blundered out an apology as well as his abilities would admit. On retiring he had, however, the civility to attend me to the carriage.

Having disencumbered myself of my uniform, I called on some of my acquaintances; and also on Monsieur Lynch, the Mayor of the city, descended from an Irish family, and of most gentlemanly manners. From him I went to visit Monsieur Pierre Pierre, the commissary of police, a personage of no small consequence in a French town, and whose good will it is necessary for all strangers, like myself on sufferance only, to conciliate. He immediately told me the number of bottles we had drank the evening before, with the whole particulars of our conversation, and appeared extremely proud of his espionnage; for he seemed to have the vanity to think, that because he received information of whatever passed in all companies, public or private, he thence derived as much consequence as if he had been admitted to them. To humour him, I expressed my astonishment at the correctness of his information, although I was very sure that he received it from an American doctor, who by making himself useful to all the English passing through Bourdeaux, was always invited to their parties; and although it was well known that he was employed by the police, it was advisable to keep on good terms with him, as a denunciation, however false, would probably have been productive of a lodging in a cachot, without any investigation; besides, he was capable of being extremely useful to a stranger, knowing every thing and every body in Bourdeaux.

After paying several other visits, I dined off a boiled leg of mutton and turnips, a dish I had not seen for so long a time, that I almost fancied myself in England. At dinner I met with Captain Geils of the 3d guards, Captain Reynolds of the 83d, and a quarter-master of the 4th, all taken in Spain, and the two former severely wounded. As they were very inquisitive about affairs in Spain, and the wine being excellent, we made a late sitting.

February 4. Strolling through the streets in the forenoon, I observed a very pretty girl standing at a shop door, whom, pour passer le temps, I accosted with a compliment on her beauty, which she received as most pretty girls do, and more particularly French grisettes, as if it was only her due. Soon perceiving that I was an Englishman, she launched into an eulogium on the nation, but at the same time observing that we had faults, of which not the least was our neglect of the beau sexe; then changing the subject with abrupt vivacity, she observed that my coat was rather tarnished, and recommended its being scowered, which her father, whose trade it was, would speedily perform. I allowed her to shew me into a back apartment; where the old gentleman was at work, to whom I promised to send the coat as soon as I got another from the taylor, this being the only one I at present possessed. “Tenez,” replied he, “en voici un qui vous ira à mere veille;” and though the cut was rather outré, I put it on and left him mine, “to come out,” as he expressed it, “entirely new!” From the repeated assurances of the father and daughter that the coat fitted me à merveille, I thought I might pass without notice; but I had scarcely quitted the shop when I met with three English gentlemen, who burst into a horse-laugh at my costume; and, it being Carnival time, observed, “that I was already drest for the masquerade.” Although I joined in the laugh, I did not choose to expose myself to a repetition of it, and on reaching the hotel immediately sent for my coat, but was told that it was in the tub: and the taylor not having finished either of those I had ordered, I was under the necessity of confining myself to the house for the rest of the day. As our officers had taken up their quarters at a hotel opposite, and were in the article of dress even worse off than myself (having only the old torn regimentals on their backs), I invited them to keep me in countenance, and we passed the day together in playing at piquet and laughing at each others dress. In the evening I sent to desire the company of my friend the scowerer, who immediately arrived, and afforded me much amusement. Knowing the character of this description of Frenchmen, I proposed to send an excellent supper to his house, in order to have the pleasure of passing the evening with him and his lovely daughter, with which proposition he immediately complied, and retired to make the necessary preparations. I shortly followed him to his apartments, which were very neatly furnished. The young lady was very entertaining, and the old gentleman so complaisant as soon to retire, and leave me to enjoy her fascinating conversation till late in the evening. I afterwards learnt that this man had acted a conspicuous part in the revolutionary committees, and during a part of that blood-stained period was the terror of Bourdeaux.

February 5. The next morning, according to appointment, I went, accompanied by the American doctor as Cicerone, to inspect the curiosities of Bourdeaux.

We first visited the military hospital, in which were several English officers, particularly a Mr. Grant, of the 24th regiment, who had been badly wounded at the battle of Talavera. He was in the same ward with several French officers; for in the French service an officer who reports himself sick is obliged to go immediately to the hospital, which effectually prevents their attempting to evade their duty by pretending illness: and it would be well if some strong regulation was adopted in our service, to prevent the numberless abuses which take place in this respect.

In the course of our walk we passed a very fine Roman triumphal arch, disfigured by modern ornaments, and on inquiring of my companion, (who in whatever regarded the things or people of Bourdeaux was a perfect Asmodeus) he informed me that the arch had been erected to Trajan, but that the modern decorations were attached to it when Buonaparte was at Bourdeaux, it being expected that he would pass under it, which he however declined; whether from a modest diffidence with respect to his equality with the Roman Emperor, or as some people said, from the conviction of his own superiority, which caused him to despise this kind of half homage, I cannot undertake to decide.*

* I afterwards understood the real cause was its not having been erected from the foundation expressly for himself.

Bourdeaux formerly the capital of Guienne, and at present the chief town of the department of the Gironde, is considered in the first class of French cities, and contains upwards of one hundred thousand inhabitants. It had formerly an university and an academy of arts and sciences, a court of admiralty, &c. In 1642, it was granted a parliament, by Louis XI. Its public establishments at present are, a lyceum, the most magnificent theatre in France, and a mint. It is the residence of a prefect, and has a criminal tribunal and a tribunal of appeal, for the departments of Charente, Dordogne, and Gironde.

I this morning accompanied Monsieur Cabanis to his country seat, about two leagues from Bourdeaux, which is pleasantly situated, commanding a fine and extensive view, but greatly neglected. He informed me, that the want of a market for the produce, reduced the value of the vineyards to less than the expences of their cultivation, and that he would gladly let his house and domain rent free, on condition of keeping the vineyards in order. In many of the walks I observed snares for taking woodcocks, and one got entangled while I was there.

It being Sunday the theatre was crowded as usual, and I must confess I am not so rigid as to see any thing contrary either to religion or good morals, in attending this amusement on the Sabbath. In our Protestant countries Sunday is a day of moping tiresomeness, yet surely we may observe with Sterne, “that the Great Father of all does not expect us to vex and shorten a life, short and vexatious enough already; that he who is infinitely happy cannot envy us our enjoyments, or that a Being, so infinitely kind, would grudge a mournful traveller the short rest and refreshments, necessary to support his spirits through the stages of a weary pilgrimage; or that he would call him to a severe reckoning, because in his way he had hastily snatched at some little fugacious pleasure, merely to sweeten this uneasy journey of life, and reconcile him to the ruggedness of the road, and the many hard jostlings he is sure to meet with.”

The entertainment this evening at the theatre, was, however, analagous to the day, for it was the story of Susannah and the Elders, metamorphosed into a pantomime. The two antient sinners attempt to accomplish their purpose on the chaste damsel, while she is in the bath, but being foiled, they denounce her guilty of a faux-pas, and wickedly swear that they found her under a tree in an awkward situation. On this evidence she is condemned, and about to be executed, when the angel Gabriel descends and advises the judges to examine each old man separately, when their stories not agreeing, the damsel is released, and her accusers are sentenced to be stoned to death. The music of this entertainment was exquisite, the scenery superb, and the descent and ascent of the Archangel very well managed. Indeed it was impossible not to admire the ingenuity with which so serious a subject was brought on the stage in the shape of a pantomime. A Mademoiselle Byrom acted Susannah, who appeared a chaste actress, at least on the stage. A melo-drama succeeded the pantomime. This is a new species of theatrical entertainment, composed of a mixture of comedy, opera and pantomime, and is at present quite the rage in France.