Monday, the 13th.—This has been a day of much agitation; a courier has arrived, and the intelligence he brings is as bad as possible. Every thing is lost. The Count d'Artois harangued his troops, and the answer they made, was a universal shout of Vive l'Empereur. The Prince has been obliged to return to Paris; Bonaparte has entered Lyons without the slightest opposition, and is now on his march to the capital. We have just been informed, that the Duc d'Angouleme is expected here this evening or to-morrow. The guarde nationale has been paraded upon the Cours, and a proclamation, exhorting them to continue faithful to the King, read aloud to the soldiers. We hear them rapturously shouting Vive le Roi; and they are now marching through the streets to the national air of Henrie Quatre. Every house has displayed the white flag from its windows.
Thursday, the 16th.—We have determined now to run the risk of travelling across the country to Bourdeaux, trusting to embark from that town for England. I have visited Marseilles, and find that there are no vessels in that port; and in the present uncertain state of Italy, it would be hazardous attempting to reach Nice. Bonaparte, we hear, is near Paris, and is expected to enter that capital without opposition; but we now receive no intelligence whose accuracy can be relied on, as the couriers have been stopt, and all regular intercourse discontinued. The preparations, for the arrival of the Duc d'Angouleme, continued till this morning; and in the evening we witnessed his entry into Aix: It was an affecting sight. At the gate of the town, he got out of his carriage, mounted on horseback, and rode twice along the Cours, followed by his suite. The common people, who were assembled on each side of the street, shouted Vive le Roi, Vivent les Bourbons, apparently with enthusiasm. The attention of the Duke seemed to be chiefly directed to the regiments of the line, which were drawn up on the Cours. As he rode along, he leant down and seemed to speak familiarly to the common soldiers; but the troops remained sullen and silent. No cries of loyalty were heard amongst them—not a single murmur of applause. They did not even salute the Duke as he past, but continued perfectly still and silent. In the midst of this, we could hear the sobs of the women in the crowd, and of the ladies, who waved their handkerchiefs from the windows. As he came near the balcony where we and our English friends were assembled, we strained our voices with repeated cries of Vive le Roi. He heard us, looked up, and bowed; and afterwards, with that grateful politeness, the characteristic of the older school of French manners, he sent one of his attendants to say, that he had distinguished the English, and felt flattered by the interest they took in his affairs. Although it was positively asserted by our French friends here, that Marseilles was in the greatest confusion; and that on account of the prevalence of the report of the English having favoured the escape of Bonaparte, all our countrymen were liable to be insulted; I yet found the town perfectly tranquil. Massena, I heard, had sent for some troops from Toulon; and the 3000 national guards employ themselves night and day, in shouting Vive le Roi. We shall leave Aix to-morrow morning, taking the route to Bourdeaux.
Friday, the 17th of April.—Our leaving Aix this morning was really melancholy. French friends, hearing of our approaching departure, flocked in to bid us farewell. They were in miserably low spirits, deploring the state of their unhappy country, weeping over the fate of their sons and husbands, who had marched with the national guard in pursuit of the ex-Emperor; and full of fears as to the calamities this might bring upon them. You are happy English, said they, and are returning to a loyal and secure country, and you leave us exposed to all the calamities of a civil war.
After a long day's journey, we have at last arrived at Orgon, at seven in the evening. There has been little travelling on the road to-day. The country has nearly the same aspect as in November last. The only difference is, that the almond trees are in full blossom, and some few other trees, such as willows, &c. in leaf; the wheat is about half a foot to a foot high: The day was delightfully mild; and as we drove along, we met numberless groups of peasants who lined the road, and were anxiously waiting for their Prince passing by. The road was strewed with lilies, and the young girls had their laps filled with flowers as we passed. As we past, they knew us to be English, and shouted Vive le Roi.
We are now in Languedoc, but as yet I cannot say that it equals, or at all justifies Mrs Radcliffe's description: Flat and insipid plains of vignoble or wheat. However, there is here, as every where in France, no want of cultivation. Napoleon had commenced, and nearly finished, a very fine quay and buttresses between the two bridges of boats. That man had always grand, though seldom good views. The walls of the inn here were covered with a mixture of "Vive le Roi!" and "Vive Napoleon!" this last mostly scratched out. National guards in every town demanded our passport. These men and the gens-d'armes are running about in every direction. No courier from Paris arrived here these three days. This looks ill. The houses are better in appearance than in Provence. The country very productive: Potatoes the finest I have seen in France.——Distance 34 miles.
Sunday, 19th.—We left Nismes at six o'clock this morning, and breakfasted at Lunel, where they appear to be full of loyalty. It was a subject to us of much regret, that more time was not allowed us to examine a magnificent Roman amphitheatre, half of which is nearly entire, although the remaining part is quite ruinous. The troops in the town were drawn up on the parade, expecting the Duke d'Angouleme. We received a small printed paper from an officer on the road, containing the information last received from Paris, which secured us a good reception at the inn. The people were delighted to procure a piece of authentic intelligence, (a thing they seldom have); they flocked round us, and upon their entreaty, I gave them the paper to carry to the caffèe. In the inn we found a number of recruits for the army forming by the Duke d'Angouleme; it is said that he has already collected at Nismes nineteen hundred men, all volunteers. The country does not improve in romantic beauty as we advance in Languedoc; but what is better, the cultivation is very superior; large fields of fine wheat. There seems to be all over the south the same want of horned cattle; horses also are very scarce and very bad:—milk never to be had unless very early, and then in small quantity. No land wasted here. All the houses about Montpellier are better than near Aix, and we even saw some neat country seats, a circumstance almost unknown in all the parts of France where we have hitherto been. The olive trees are here much larger and finer than in Provence; but the country, although covered with olives, vines, and wheat, is flat, ugly, and insipid. The instruments of agriculture are even inferior to those in Provence, which last are at least a century behind England. The plough here is as rude as in Bengal, and is formed of a crooked branch of a tree shod with iron. As we approached near Montpellier, the appearance of the country began to display more beautiful features. The ground is more varied, the fields and meadows of a richer green, a distant range of hills closes in the view, and the olive groves are composed of larger and more luxuriant trees. Nearer to the town, the country is divided into small nursery gardens, which, although inferior to those in the environs of London, give an unusual richness to the landscape. We arrived at Montpellier at six o'clock, and from the crowd in the town, found much difficulty in procuring an hotel.
Monday, 20th April.—We have better news to-day; letters from the Duke d'Angouleme announce that the whole conspiracy has been discovered, and that Soult (Ministre de Guerre) and several other generals have been arrested. In consequence of which, it is expected that the plans of the conspirators will be in a great measure defeated. The French change in a moment from the extreme of grief to the opposite, that of the most extravagant joy. To-day they are in the highest spirits;—but things still look very ill. No courier from Paris for these last four days. The ex-Emperor still marching uninterruptedly towards that city, yet no one can conceive that he will succeed, now that the King's eyes are open;—his clemency alone has occasioned all this—he would not consent to remove the declared friends of Napoleon.
We passed this day at Montpellier; but were prevented by the intense heat of the sun from seeing as much of the environs as we could have wished. The town is old and the streets shabby; but the Peyroue is one of the most magnificent things I ever saw. It is a superb platform, which forms the termination of the Grand Aqueduct built by Louis XIV. and commands a magnificent extent of country. In front, the view is terminated by a long and level line of the Mediterranean. To the south-west the horizon is formed by the ridge of the Pyrenees; while, to the north, the view is closed in by the distant, yet magnificent summits of the Alps. Immediately below these extends, almost to the border of the Mediterranean, a beautiful paysage, spotted with innumerable country seats, which, seen at a distance, have the same air of neatness and comfort as those in England. At the end of this fine platform, is a Grecian temple, inclosing a basin, which receives the large body of water conveyed by the aqueduct, and which empties itself again into a wide basin with a bottom of golden-coloured sand. The limpid clearness of the water is beyond all description. The air, blowing over the basin from a plain of wheat and olives (evergreens in this climate), has a charming freshness. The Esplanade here is also a fine promenade, although the view which it commands is not so fine as that from the Peyroue. The manufactures of Montpellier are, verdigris, blankets and handkerchiefs; little trade going on. The climate is delightful, though now too warm for my taste. Every thing is much farther advanced here than at Aix. They have some very pretty gardens here, though nothing equal to what we see every day in England. The botanical garden is very small. We start to-morrow at six for Beziers, where we expect to find water carriage to Toulouse.