The plan however soon became evidently for the Allies to act on the defensive, either until their force was assembled, or with the intention of harassing the French troops, and increasing (if possible) their discontent. We heard of the surrender of Bourdeaux, as well as that of Lyons; and judging, from the small space of territory in Napoleon’s possession, either for the advantage of conscription or for levying taxes, we had the secret consolation to know that his career, from such a diminution of resources, must very soon terminate. The people, moreover, refused paying taxes, and neither officer, soldier, or civil magistrate, received pay.
The prisoners, of which there were about seventy thousand in the neighbourhood, were billeted on the inhabitants of villages, who were forced to find them in every thing, and they were of no farther expense to the state. At length the account arrived of the downfal of Paris, an event scarcely to be credited, were we to judge from the resolutions of its inhabitants, and their declaration so shortly before, on Napoleon’s departure for the army, “that before the Allies should enter Paris a rampart should be made of the bodies of its citizens.” As to this wonderful rampart, and the change which so suddenly took place in the general sentiments of the French nation, it is so recent on the minds of every person, that there can be no necessity for mentioning further particulars. Paris was apparently, however, considered of no consequence by the Buonapartists, as the Emperor could retire and defend the banks of the Loire.
The interruption of communication with Paris was of short duration, for Napoleon did not long survive the loss of his ci-devant capital; and most anxiously indeed did we all look for his downfal, not only as the means of obtaining our personal liberty, but for the rescue of France and of Europe from the dominion of a tyrant, that at one time had contrived to rivet chains so firm as to secure the persons of the French inhabitants, and render them subservient to his tyrannical and frantic exploits; and by the means of artifice, treachery, and fraud, had so far got possession of men’s minds, as to make them his accomplices, or the instruments by which he either executed, or attempted to carry into execution, deeds that Frenchmen, now that they have leisure or time for reflection, must shudder at the idea of, and be ashamed to consider that they had so long been the slaves and the dupes to the despotic will of such a ruffian.
I had a country house some miles distant from the town of Gueret, over a bad road, having ravines, rivers, woods, and morasses to pass previous to arriving there; and in such a place, it may be presumed I was removed from the source of intelligence or of news, unless I went into the town. One Sunday evening, having invited some friends to pass two or three days in the country, a strange event took place. While drinking our wine after dinner, three of the wine glasses broke spontaneously in pieces, and the wine ran about the table and on the floor; the clock, which before had struck tolerably correct, now struck two hundred and sixteen; the screech-owls, of which there were abundance in the neighbourhood, made a hideous noise, and appearances were altogether so strange, that I observed there must either have been an earthquake, or some most extraordinary event had taken place. Our imaginations, from being wound up to the highest pitch of conjecture and anxiety, to devise a cause for such strange occurrences, were soon set at rest by a most violent rapping at the door, which proved to be an express, that brought us the agreeable and wonderful intelligence of Napoleon’s abdicating the throne, and the extraordinary change such an event has since created on the civil and political system of the world.
My companions had no objection to a cheerful glass of wine, and I brought forth the best the cellar could produce, of which we drank copiously to “the success of Old England,” with the chearing and delightful prospect of once more visiting our long absent native country and our friends.
On the following day I went into the town of Gueret; the English were elated to madness; white cockades were soon exhibited by them; but the Prefect, who had been strongly attached to Napoleon, would make nothing known; and the event was altogether so sudden and so wonderful, that one half of the inhabitants could not believe it, and were afraid to spew symptoms of joy, however rejoiced they might inwardly feel.
Our midshipmen became riotous, and the imperial eagles which were exhibited in various parts of the town, as signs and emblems of Napoleon’s omnipotence, were soon destroyed. A confirmation of the good news was coming into the town continually, although the Prefect was obstinate. On the following day we formed a party to go to the play. The players were Bourbonists, or assumed that character; and although the Mayor and many of the authorities had not received intelligence regularly from the Prefect, they mounted the white cockade; the players came forward also in white cockades.
One of them had obtained a very large croix de St. Louis, and appeared in the formerly much respected character of an old French officer. He was loudly applauded but the musicians, who unfortunately could not play the tune of “God save the King,” which possibly they had never heard of, were saluted from all quarters with so sharp a fire of apples and other missiles for their ignorance, that they were forced to seek their safety in flight.
The playhouse now exhibited a scene of friendly riot, confusion, and noise; the French and English mutually crying out “vivent les Anglois, vivent les François,” and complimenting each other, so that the parts of the play were totally changed, the spectators or audience assuming the character of actors, while, vice versa, the actors became spectators.
An old French General, with a large hooked nose, met with great attention, from his having a croix de St. Louis and a conspicuously large white cockade; his appearance was quite a caricature, yet he created additional interest in the English, by his crying out, “vivent les Anglois! vivent nos libérateurs!” An Irish officer next seemed to attract notice, and to supersede the old General by his sudden appearance in the house. The first words he uttered were, “nous sommes libres, b––e; arrah, blood and wounds, boys, is there none of you who can sing God save the King?” –– and after a short pause, “then, by Jasns,” says he, “since that is the case, I must sing it myself.” He accordingly jumped on the stage from the upper row of boxes, and was getting forward tolerably well with his song, when poor Pat suddenly disappeared in the prompter’s hole, to the vast entertainment of the audience; for, it may be presumed, he never calculated on the possibility of such a hole being placed nearly in the middle of the stage: It had however a good stage effect, and as he received no very material damage from his fall, he re-appeared and got through the song, supported by so many discordant voices and notes, as to leave the French musicians and actors much at a loss to know the real composition of English music.
A great many prisoners from the several dépôts marched through Gueret, having been liberated on the restoration of the Bourbons. They had been in sad distress, for want of money to forward them on their way, as the mode adopted by the French government was of a very economical nature; for they turned them loose without giving them any clothing, or paying any arrears that were due.
The poor fellows, after their long confinement, were naturally delighted, and never inquired or examined into consequences; so with a light heart and chearful disposition they proceeded for the nearest harbour, which was Bourdeaux, without a farthing to support them. My duty was to supply them with money and shoes, as far as I could procure them; but, as persons of their description are not in general very provident, they mostly drank out the money and sold the shoes. When elated with liquor they conceived all Frenchmen indiscriminately had been the authors of their long captivity and misfortune, the windows therefore of the inhabitants suffered severely; scarcely a pane of glass remaining unbroken in the town of Gueret. The interference of gend’armes, or military, was useless, as they could not be brought to act; and indeed they would have had little chance: yet as it was necessary to have a battle of some kind, they were obliged to fight among themselves. My old landlord informed me he had seen thirty-seven regular pitched battles, and asked me if this was really the usual mode of deciding differences of opinion in England? “But,” says he, “what astonished me most was, their friends, instead of separating the combatants, encouraged them.” He also gave a half-finished description of a bottle-holder, but both the name and the character were so novel and extraordinary to him, that he was perfectly at a loss to know what to make of it.
A gend’arme whom I afterwards met, well known among the English by the name of Black George, informed me he imagined that he had acquired some knowledge of the English character, after nearly eleven years constant study and experience; but must now confess himself equally as ignorant as when he commenced his studies.