A Visit to the Monastery of La Trappe in 1817 Part 6

At the death of his father, who left an immense fortune to be divided between Mons. Ledru and his two maiden sisters, he took possession of the estate at Fontenay-aux-Roses, from whence he had been cruelly banished when a boy, and which the unkindness of his parent had never after permitted him to enter. Fortune, which had hitherto played a wayward and capricious game with him, had not yet ceased her freaks.

In removing a mirror from over a chimney-piece which required an alteration, he discovered a prodigious treasure that had been concealed there by his father! With that generosity and n.o.bleness of character, which make him esteemed and beloved by all his acquaintance, and adored by the whole commune over which he presides, he instantly sent for his sisters and divided it with them. His wife did not long survive this last event, and since her death he has continued to reside at Fontenay-aux-Roses with his sisters, where he exercises his authority with mildness; and by constant acts of beneficence and charity, is justly styled, "Le Pere de Fontenay!"

Between Fontenay-aux-Roses and Paris, to the right of the road, is the village of Gentilly, whose numerous guinguettes are much frequented by the Parisians in fine weather. It being a holyday we met crowds of well dressed citizens, in all sorts of vehicles, driving towards it.

An interesting circ.u.mstance had been related to me of the cure of this village, M. Detruissart; and on asking permission to visit his rural habitation, I found the story to be true. His garden, which is not above half an acre, has been laid out with such art and ingenuity, as to give an idea of considerable extent, and to add to the charms of this little spot, which he calls his "bonheur," there are a variety of inscriptions of his own composition; over an arbour of vines is the following:--

MA SOLITUDE.

Loin des mechans, du bruit, des tempetes du monde, Sous un simple berceau dont la treille est feconde, Sous un modeste toit, dans de rians jardins, Dessines, eleves, cultives par mes mains....

C'est dans ces lieux cheris que s'ecoule ma vie Dans une paix profonde, une tranquillite Qui sans cesse rappele a mon ame ravie Le temps de l'age d'or et ma felicite: Mais, quelque doux qu'il soit, mon sort est peu de chose; Car enfin, apres tout, je dois mourir bientot!

Ne ressemblons-nous pas a la feuille de rose Qui paroit un instant et qui seche aussitot!

It was in the practice of the moral conveyed by these lines, and in the pursuit of literature, and constant acts of charity, that Mons.

Detruissart pa.s.sed his life, which was rewarded by the esteem and affection of all his paris.h.i.+oners, of which they gave a remarkable proof on the 4th of July, 1815, when the Prussian troops took post at Gentilly, from whence they had driven the French the preceding evening into Paris.

The poor cure, with many other of the inhabitants, sought refuge in the capital, leaving his house at the mercy of the enemy, who commenced plundering in all directions; the humble and modest appearance of M. Detruissart's cottage not attracting their notice, it remained untouched, when a single word from any of the inhabitants would have devoted it to ruin; but such was their esteem for him, that at his return he found every thing as he had left it.

I entered Paris, leaving Bicetre to my right, by the barriere d'Enfer, after one of the most agreeable and interesting journeys I ever performed.

CHAP. IX.

ENVIRONS OF PARIS--PERE LA CHAISE--CASTLE OF VINCENNES--AND CHATEAU OF ST. GERMAIN--ITS FOREST AND VICINITY.

Prior to the revolution, the French, like most other European nations, were in the practice of depositing their dead in churches and cemeteries within the most populous towns, in compliance with those precepts of evangelical doctrine which recommend us unceasingly to reflect on death; and hence originated a custom which cannot but be attended with most pernicious consequences to health, when we reflect that the decomposition of human bodies is productive of putrid exhalations, and consequently pregnant with the causes of contagious disorders. It is indeed surprising that some regulations have not hitherto been adopted in England regarding the interment of the dead, from the example of other countries.

In the year 1793, a decree was pa.s.sed by the National a.s.sembly, to prevent burying in churches, or in church-yards, within the city of Paris. Since which period, there have been three places selected in its immediate neighbourhood for that purpose--Montmartre, called "Le Champ du Repos"--Vaugirard, and Pere La Chaise.

Quitting the Boulevards, at the extremity of the Boulevards Neufs, eastward of the city, and pa.s.sing through the Barriere d'Aulnay, I arrived at the Pere La Chaise. At the entrance, through large folding gates, is a s.p.a.cious court-yard, having at one angle the dwelling of the Concierge, or Keeper. The enclosure contains one hundred and twenty acres, on a gently rising ground, in the centre of which stands the ancient mansion constructed by Louis XIV. for his confessor, Pere la Chaise, the celebrated Jesuit, who, with Madame de Maintenon, governed France. Rising above the thousands of tombs which surround it, it displays itself a wrecked and mouldering monument of ancient splendour, and the mutability of human affairs! This spot became afterwards a place of public promenade and great resort, from the beauty of its position overlooking all Paris; and though so often the scene of festivity and pleasure, now presents to the eye of the beholder a mournfully interesting sight of tombs and sarcophagi, intermixed with various fruit trees, cypress groves, the choicest flowers, and rarest shrubs.

From the rising ground, above the building of Pere La Chaise, a most delightful view displays itself. The city of Paris appears to stand in the centre of a vast amphitheatre. The heights of Belleville, Montmartre, and Menilmontant, in the west. To the east, the beautiful plain of Saint-Mande, Montreuil, and Vincennes, with the lofty towers of its fortress.--The fertile banks of the river Marne, are on the North, and in the South, the horizon encircles Bicetre and Meudon.

The various tombs are placed without order or regularity: they are mostly enclosed with trellis work of wood, sometimes by iron railing; and consist of a small marble column, a pyramid, a sarcophagus, or a single slab, just as may have suited the fancy or the taste of the friends of the departed.--Some surrounded with cypress, some with roses, myrtles, and the choicest exotics; others with evergreens, and not unfrequently a single weeping willow, with the addition of a rose tree!

This intermixture of the sweetest scented flowers and fruit trees, in a burying ground, among the finest pieces of sculptured marble, with evergreens growing over them, in the form of arbours, and furnished with seats, cannot fail to produce in the mind of the person who views it for the first time, peculiar and uncommon feelings of domestic melancholy, mingled with pleasing tenderness.

Who could be otherwise than powerfully affected, as I was, by the first objects that presented themselves to me on entering the place?--A mother and her two sons, kneeling in pious devotion at the foot of the husband's and the father's grave! At a short distance, a female of elegant form, watering and dressing the earth around some plants at her lover's tomb!--not a day, and seldom an hour, pa.s.ses, but some one is seen either weeping over the remains of a departed relative, or watching with pious solicitude the flowers that spring up around it.

Among the many interesting objects that presented themselves at my first visit, was the tomb of Abelard and Helose, which had not long since been removed from the convent of the Augustins, where I had seen it in 1815.

At a little distance, to the left of the former, was the burial place of Labedoyere. The fate of this brave and unfortunate officer is well known; his youth, and misled zeal, have procured him a sympathy which his fellow sufferer Marshal Ney did not find, and did not merit.

In the centre of a square plot of ground enclosed with lattice work, is erected a wooden cross, painted black. Neither marble, nor stone, nor letters, indicate his name. Two pots of roses, and a tuft of violets, alone marked the spot, which is carefully weeded. There is something more affecting in all this simplicity, something, in my mind, that goes more directly home to the heart, than in the most splendid monument or the most studied eulogium. As we came suddenly up we saw two females clad in deep mourning, weeping over it; at each arm of the cross was suspended a garland of flowers; we were about to retire again immediately, from the fear of disturbing their melancholy devotions, when the concierge, with a brutality indescribable, rushed forward, and removing the garlands, threw them among the shrubs at a considerable distance. The friend who accompanied me, after searching, recovered one of the garlands, and with more gallantry perhaps than policy, immediately replaced it, and reproaching the keeper with his unmanly conduct, vowed vengeance if he dared to interrupt the ladies, again, when bowing to them we retired.

As we were about to quit the place some time after, we were arrested by two gendarmes, and it was not till after a detention of some hours, and a long discussion between the police officers who had been summoned to attend, and being threatened to be sent to the Conciergerie prison, that we were allowed to depart.

The following words were engraved on a plain marble slab that covered the remains of Marshal Ney.

CI GIT LE MAReCHAL NEY DUC D'ECHLINGEN PRINCE DE MOSCOWA DeCeDe le 7, Decembre, 1815.

The grave of the Marshal, as well as that of Labedoyere, when I again visited the spot, had been stripped of every thing, and the railing around them removed so as to prevent any one from discovering the place of their interment.

The monument of Madame Cottin, the author of Elizabeth and of Mathilde, is, like her writings, simple and affecting!-Surrounded by a trellis work in the form of an arbour, planted with rose trees, stands a pillar of the whitest marble, highly polished, inclining forwards, and engraved with:

ICI REPOSE Marie-Sophie Risteav Veuve de J.M. Cottin Decedee le 25 Aout.

1815.

Near this is the tomb of the esteemed and celebrated poet Delille, the "Songster of the Gardens," as the French term him. The monument is enclosed in a small garden, planted with the choicest flowers and shrubs: it is of white marble, of large dimensions, and approached by an _allee verte_. The door leading to the vault is of bra.s.s, with emblematical figures in relief: above the entrance is inscribed in letters of gold.

JACQVES-DELILLE.

The linden tree, intermixed with various evergreens, form an interesting and beautiful bouquet around it.

Beyond this, to the right, are the tombs of Gretry the composer, Fourcroy the great chemist, Fontenelle, Boileau, Racine, and of Mademoiselle Raucourt, the celebrated actress, to whom the bigotry of the clergy refused burial in consecrated ground in 1815! a circ.u.mstance which gave rise to much clamour and dissatisfaction. It is surprising, that after such events as have been experienced in France, the folly of denying the right of consecrated ground to a comedian should have been persevered in, _after the restoration_ of Louis XVIII!

Close to the tomb of Mad'lle Raucourt, is one, which for its affecting simplicity and modesty, struck me very forcibly: in a little garden of roses and lilies, and amidst some tufts of mignonette which appeared to have been newly watered, stood a plain marble column, with the words as represented in the annexed sketch--an accacia shaded it from the sun's rays. In 1814, when the Allies approached Paris, this height, like the others commanding the capital, was fortified, and occupied by the students of the Polytechnical School, who defended it with great gallantry. The walls were perforated with holes for the musketry: the marks are still visible where they have been since filled up. On the 30th of March, 1814, this position was vigorously attacked, with great slaughter on both sides: the a.s.sailants and the a.s.sailed fell in heaps, and it was not until the chief part of a Prussian corps, (that afterwards carried it by a.s.sault) had been annihilated, that the brave youths gave way.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The tomb of my early friend and brother officer, the brave and unfortunate Captain Wright, who was murdered in the Temple, is in the cemetery of Vaugirard. I had searched for it in vain at Pere la Chaise, where it was reported he had been buried. It has on it the following inscription, written to his memory by his companion in arms, and in imprisonment, the gallant Sir Sidney Smith:

HERE LIES INHUMED JOHN WESLEY WRIGHT, BY BIRTH AN ENGLISHMAN, CAPTAIN IN THE BRITISH NAVY

Distinguished both among his own Countrymen and Foreigners For skill and courage;

To whom, Of those things which lead to the summit of glory, Nothing was wanting but opportunity:

His ancestors, whose virtues he inherited, He honoured by his deeds.

Quick in apprehending his orders, Active and bold in the execution of them;

In success modest, In adverse circ.u.mstances firm, In doubtful enterprises, wise and prudent.

Awhile successful in his career; At length a.s.sailed by adverse winds, and on an hostile sh.o.r.e, He was captured;

And being soon after brought to Paris, Was confined in the prison called the Temple, _Infamous for midnight murders_, And placed in the most rigid custody:

But in bonds, And suffering severities still more oppressive, His fort.i.tude of mind and fidelity to his country Remained unshaken.

A short time after, He was found in the morning with his throat cut.

And dead in his bed:

He died the 28th October, 1805, aged 36.

To be lamented by his Country, Avenged by his G.o.d!