Previous to reaching this town, and about two leagues from Metz, we passed a Roman aqueduct, noticed by Gibbon in his History of the Roman Empire, together with that of Segovia in Spain, as being the two most perfect Roman constructions to be found in Europe. By this canal, which extends near one thousand two hundred yards across an extensive valley, forming a communication between two hills, the water was formerly conveyed to the public of Metz. Though several of the arches are broken, the pillars all remain entire, and the whole forms an imposing and fine ruin.

From Pont à Mousson to Nancy the country is extremely picturesque, being finely diversified by hills and vallies, well wooded and watered. The extreme heat of the day induced us to halt and refresh ourselves at a little village about two miles from Nancy, where we met with a neat public house, which reminded us of those of our own country. The landlord soon discovering we were English, entered freely into conversation on the passing events, and told us that he considered England as the greatest nation in the world, from the immense exertions she made since the French revolution, to preserve the balance of power in Europe.

The mention of the revolution led him to enter into the sufferings of the neighbourhood during that period. From the door of his house, he pointed out six magnificent country seats, formerly inhabited, during a great part of the year, by their noble owners, who disseminated throughout the country the cheerfulness of opulence, content and prosperity; now, on the contrary, a gloomy melancholy is remarked in every countenance, and it is easy to perceive that sullen discontent, which dares not vent itself in words; “in short,” said our landlord, “ one would suppose that the natural disposition of the people was entirely changed. Instead of the splendid equipages which formerly rolled in every direction, no other carriage is now to be seen, but a creeping diligence, or a miserable one horse cabriolet, while the châteaux have become the property of the revolutionary parvenus, who entirely neglect them, or of scélérats, who have acquired possession of them by the most infamous means.”

Near our inn, a handsome bridge of cut stone crossed the Moselle, which river, after serpentizing for some distance, disappears from the view, in a picturesque wooded valley. The landscape in general was extremely pleasing, and recalled to mind many passages in Goldsmith’s Deserted Village, which though not always entirely applicable to the scene before us, had a sufficient resemblance to make us dwell on it with pleasure.

We entered Nancy through a very handsome arched gate, which terminated a promenade planted with trees, and having a row of buildings on the left. Several Spanish officers, prisoners of war, (for whom Nancy is a dépôt) were on this walk; and amongst them, I easily recognized the Duke of Grenada, by the description I had heard of him. Though it is probable the greatest part of this nobleman’s estates in Valencia, are in the hands of the French, he still draws large sums from Spain, of which unfortunately he does not make the best use; for being an extreme bigot, instead of relieving his unfortunate countrymen in captivity, his wealth is chiefly squandered in donations to the priests who surround him, and who have still sufficient influence to persuade him, that giving to the Church is lending to God, and that he is thereby laying up for himself a treasure in heaven.

We put up at the Aigle Impérial, an extensive, convenient, and well conducted hotel, where we got an excellent dinner and good wines. In the evening we received a visit from Monsieur Duchard and another gentleman; with the former I had formed some acquaintance at Verdun, where he paid several visits during our races, which took place once a fortnight. I had several horses on the turf there myself, and ran them for large sums with various success, winning considerably at first, but leaving off a loser.

The following morning we waited on the general officer commanding at Nancy, to shew our permission from Baron de Beauchene, for making this tour. As the General had been an officer in the antient regime; I expected to find in him the manners of a gentleman, but was disappointed; nor did I wonder at it when I learnt that he had deserted the cause of his sovereign, and received his promotion from the revolutionists. It would appear that this class of rogues, being apprehensive that they might be suspected and sacrificed for not going far enough, generally exceed all others in atrocious and inhuman acts.

The room into which we were introduced to this wretch was filled with officers, conscripts, and peasants, with whom he was occupied. When our passports were presented to him, he fell into a rage not to be described; struck the table violently with his hand, stamped and made frightful grimaces, and gave vent to his passion in low and unbecoming invectives against the English, whose insolence he knew how to curb, and that if the Emperor was of his mind, he would exterminate the whole race from the face of the earth. Such observations I of course thought unworthy of notice; and looking at the little deformed wretch who talked of exterminating us, with an expression of contemptuous pity rather than of resentment, I disdainfully walked out of the room, like a king in a tragedy. The aide-de-camp followed and begged me to return; to which I replied, that “he could not suppose I would enter again into the company of a madman, for whose conduct nothing but absolute insanity could be pleaded in excuse.” This fellow, for he is unworthy the title of officer, is named La Coste; he positively ordered us to quit Nancy that moment, writing on the back of our passport, that he acknowledged no permissions but the minister’s for prisoners to quit the department of their dépôt. This order we however did not think proper to obey, but remained till next morning. A moment’s consideration might have shewn him, that if there was any impropriety in allowing us as prisoners to visit Nancy, it was the Baron de Beauchene he should have addressed and not us, and that his conduct could not tend to injure any one but himself, in thus shamefully disgracing the situation and rank in which he was placed.

On my return to Verdun I wrote to the Baron de Beauchene on the subject, and took care that the contents of my letter should be made known to M. La Coste. In the course of the day we visited whatever was worthy of notice in Nancy, which is one of the handsomest towns in France, the chief place of the department of the Meurthe, and has a population of thirty thousand inhabitants. It is divided into the old and new town; the former has little to recommend it except a circus, round which were placed in niches the statues and tombs of the princes of Lorraine, but which were mutilated and demolished by the barbarous revolutionary fanaticism of a regiment of Marseillois which passed through the town in 1793. In the new town, the houses are fronted with hewn stone, and are very elegant and regular, and the public buildings magnificent amongst the latter is the cathedral, a superb gothic edifice; the Place Impériale, formerly Place Royale, in which is a triumphal arch; the Hôtel de Ville; the Palais de Justice, and the Exchange. The public walks in the centre of the town are also extremely grand. Most of these beauties it owes to Stanislaus, who, when a second time deprived of the crown of Poland, received from France the Duchies of Lorraine and Bar. The memory of this prince, whose benevolence acquired him the merited title of le Bienfaisant, is still revered by the Lorrainese; and his monument, which had been preserved during the revolution by its removal to the lyceum, has since been replaced in the cathedral. Stanislaus owed his elevation to the throne of Poland, to his happy countenance and air of grandeur, which gained him the esteem and friendship of Charles XII., who obliged the Poles to elect him for their king. The Battle of Pultawa, in 1709, having overturned the power of Charles, Stanislaus was obliged to quit Poland, and cede the crown to his rival Augustus; supported by Russia. Stanislaus lived retired in Alsace until 1725, when Louis XV. married his daughter; and on the death of Augustus in 1733, hoping to remount the throne, he repaired into Poland, but his competitor, the electoral prince of Saxony, prevailed over him, and by the treaty of 1736 Stanislaus was to preserve the empty title of King of Poland, and retain the duchies of Lorraine and Bar, during his life; which was terminated, by the unhappy accident of his robe de chambre taking fire, in 1766.

Before the revolution Nancy was one of the gayest and most flourishing towns of France. It was the winter resort of the English families from Spa, and the chief nobility of Lorraine resided during the summer at their chateaux in the vicinity. Having lost both these sources of opulence and gaiety, it is now equally poor and dull. Its manufactures, consisting chiefly of coarse woollen, paper, candles, and earthenware, are insignificant, and do not find their way out of the department.

The handsome buildings of the ancient university are now occupied by a lyceum, in which is a good gallery of pictures. Here is also a public library of fifty thousand volumes, a cabinet of natural history, and a botanic garden, with above four thousand indigenous and exotic plants. All these establishments are open to the public as well as to the students of the lyceum, and render Nancy one of the most literary and instructive towns of France.

Having seen every thing worthy of notice in the town, we proceeded to dine, by invitation, with M. Duchard, where a select and well bred company was assembled; which, with the comforts of an excellent dinner, finished the day in the most agreeable manner.

The following morning we set out, and arrived at Metz, where we found an invitation to dine the following day with the Prefect. At this dinner were collected above eighty persons, consisting of the chief authorities of Metz, and the heads of the academies of Metz and Nancy, who had been called hither on some subject of public discussion. The dinner was sumptuous, and we received all possible attention from the company; which was indeed carried so far, as to remain at table after the ladies had withdrawn, in compliance to our English custom; for which reason, also, Port and Madeira were set before us. Many of the party had emigrated to England during the revolution, and hence the conversation turned upon the history of English families, and their connexions in France. This subject afforded me an opportunity of noticing the number of English families, descended from or connected by alliance with those of Holland, Germany, Prussia, &c. which led to the idea, of one grand connexion throughout the continent; and I could not refrain from observing, “how much it was to be lamented that, instead of being cultivated, this connexion was every day declining, from the regulations enacted by the French Emperor, which prevented all commercial intercourse between the nations.”

On joining the ladies we passed through a superb suite of apartments, the centre one, in particular, being lofty, well proportioned, and magnificently furnished. This I learnt was the Salle de Réception, in which the Emperor received the public authorities, in his occasional visits to Metz. A full length picture of him, inimitably painted by David, and several well executed representations of battles, covered the walls.

Among the ladies was the Prefect’s daughter, Madame Seconde, the death of whose husband, an officer of engineers, killed in the memorable siege of Saragossa, had thrown her into a state of melancholy, which seemed to gain ground by time; and a delicate charming boy, her son, was now her only consolation. Her manners were gentle and engaging, and we conversed together for some time, when she suddenly rose, and apologized for abruptly quitting me by saying, that my having come so lately from Spain brought her misfortunes to her recollection, and unfitted her for society.

The Prefect was extremely fond of riding, and being seldom able to get any one at Metz to accompany him, as few Frenchmen ride either for pleasure or exercise alone, gladly accepted my offer of accompanying him, and we set off on a gravelled circular road, outside of the town, about half a mile in circumference. He was followed by what he called a jogquet Anglais, who was however more like any thing than an English jockey, his dress being a huge cocked hat with a gold loop and button, a pair of stiff hessian boots coming half way up his thighs, yellow breeches richly ornamented, and a silver laced jacket. The horse he rode shewing some blood, I observed to the Prefect that from his appearance he ought to have speed, of which I said I should be able to judge, as I had a stop watch, if he would order him to be galloped with dispatch round the circle. The jockey on receiving this order stuck his spurs violently into him, and soon quitting the course, performed a zig zag between the trees at full speed, so that I was apprehensive of his fate; but at length he reached the main road, which he pursued at full gallop until both horse and jockey disappeared from our sight. The Prefect was now au désespoir, I therefore rode on to gain tidings of them, in which not being successful, it was concluded they had fallen into the canal, and that both horse and man were drowned. On our return, however, we found they had reached home in safety, with no other damage than the loss of the cocked hat and a stirrup, both of which were recovered in the course of the day.

The following morning we returned towards Verdun, and on the road met many Spaniards who had entered the French service. On inquiring of some of them their inducement for joining the enemy of their country, they told us that nothing but the last necessity had forced them to it; that they had suffered for two years every species of persecution and hardship, being obliged to work, both winter and summer, on the canals up to their middles in water, with an insufficient allowance of the very worst provisions, and no clothing but the tattered rags in which they were taken; that a great number of their comrades had died; and that some of their officers setting the example, they had entered in despair. Their woeful appearance, indeed, was sufficient to convince us of the truth of the story: for, as Shakespeare observes of the apothecary in Romeo and Juliet,

I therefore condoled with them; commiserating and pitying, rather than condemning them, and sharing with them the small sum which remained in my pocket.