Paris As It Was and As It Is
F >>
Francis W. Blagdon >> Paris As It Was and As It Is
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 | 10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30 |
31 |
32 |
33 |
34 |
35 |
36 |
37 |
38 |
39 |
40 |
41 |
42 |
43 |
44 |
45 |
46 |
47 |
48 |
49 |
50 |
51 |
52 |
53 |
54 |
55
But what cannot fail to excite your astonishment and that of every
thinking person, is, that, in the midst of these executions, in the
midst of these convulsions of the state, in the midst of these
struggles for power, in the midst of these outcries against the
despots of the day, in the midst of famine even, not artificial, but
real; in short, in the midst of an accumulation of horrors almost
unexampled, the fiddle and tambourin never ceased. Galas, concerts,
and balls were given daily in incredible numbers; and no less than
from fifteen to twenty theatres, besides several, other places of
public entertainment, were constantly open, and almost as constantly
filled.
P. S. I am this moment informed of the arrival of Lord Cornwallis.
[Footnote 1: The ratio between the English fathom and the French
toise, as determined between the first astronomers of both countries,
is as 72 to 76.734.]
LETTER XIV.
_Paris, November 10, 1801._
On the evening of the 8th, there was a representation _gratis_ at all
the theatres, it being the eve of the great day, of the occurrences
of which I shall now, agreeably to my promise, endeavour to give you
a narrative. I mean the
NATIONAL FÉTE,
IN HONOUR OF PEACE,
_Celebrated on the 18th of Brumaire, year X_,
_the anniversary of_ BONAPARTE'S
_accession to the consulate_.
Notwithstanding the prayers which the Parisians had addressed to the
sun for the preceding twenty-four hours,
"----_Nocte pluit totà, redeunt spectacula mane_,"
it rained all night, and was still raining yesterday morning, when
the day was ushered in by discharges of artillery from the saluting
battery at the _Hôtel des Invalides_. This did not disturb me; I
slept soundly till, about eight o'clock, a tintamarre of trumpets,
kettle-drums, &c. almost directly under my window, roused me from my
peaceful slumber. For fear of losing the sight, I immediately
presented myself at the casement, just as I rose, in my shirt and
night-cap. The officers of the police, headed by the Prefect, and
escorted by a party of dragoons, came to the _Place des Victoires_,
as the third station, to give publicity, by word of mouth, to the
Proclamation of the Consuls, of which I inclose you a printed copy.
The civil officers were habited in their dresses of parade, and
decorated with tricoloured sashes; the heads of their steeds, which,
by the bye, were not of a fiery, mettlesome race, being adorned in
like manner.
This ceremony being over, I returned not to bed, but sat down to a
substantial breakfast, which I considered necessary for preparing my
strength for the great fatigues of so busy a day. Presently the
streets were crowded with people moving towards the river-side,
though small, but heavy rain continued falling all the forenoon. I
therefore remained at home, knowing that there was nothing yet to be
seen for which it was worth while to expose myself to a good wetting.
At two o'clock the sun appeared, as if to satisfy the eager desire of
the Parisians; the mist ceased, and the weather assumed a promising
aspect. In a moment the crowd in the streets was augmented by a
number of persons who had till now kept within doors, in readiness to
go out, like the Jews keeping Easter, _cincti renibus & comedentes
festinantur_. I also sallied forth, but alone, having previously
refused every invitation from my friends and acquaintance to place
myself at any window, or join any party, conceiving that the best
mode to follow the bent of my humour was to go unaccompanied, and,
not confining myself to any particular spot or person, stroll about
wherever the most interesting objects presented themselves.
With this view, I directed my steps towards the _Tuileries_, which,
in spite of the immense crowd, I reached without the smallest
inconvenience. The appearance of carriages of every kind had been
strictly prohibited, with the exception of those belonging to the
British ambassador; a compliment well intended, no doubt, and very
gratifying when the streets were so extremely dirty.
For some time I amused myself with surveying the different
countenances of the groups within immediate reach of my observation,
and which to me was by no means the least diverting part of the
scene; but on few of them could I discover any other impression than
that of curiosity: I then took my station in the garden of the
_Tuileries_, on the terrace next the river. Hence was a view of the
_Temple of Commerce_ rising above the water, on that part of the
Seine comprised between the _Pont National_ and the _Pont Neuf_. The
quays on each side were full of people; and the windows, as well as
the roofs of all the neighbouring houses, were crowded beyond
conception. In the newspapers, the sum of 500 francs, or £20
sterling, was asked for the hire of a single window of a house in
that quarter.
Previously to my arrival, a flotilla of boats, decked with streamers
and flags of different colours, had ascended the river from
_Chaillot_ to this temple, and were executing divers evolutions
around it, for the entertainment of the Parisians, who quite drowned
the music by their more noisy acclamations.
About half after three, the First Consul appeared at one of the
windows of the apartments of the Third Consul, LEBRUN, which, being
situated in the _Pavillon de Flore_, as it is called, at the south
end of the palace of the _Tuileries_, command a complete view of the
river. He and LEBRUN were both dressed in their consular uniform.
In a few minutes, a balloon, previously prepared at this floating
_Temple of Commerce_, and adorned with the flags of different
nations, ascended thence with majestic slowness, and presently took
an almost horizontal direction to the south-west. In the car attached
to it were Garnerin, the celebrated aëronaut, his wife, and two other
persons, who kept waving their tricoloured flags, but were soon under
the necessity of putting them away for a moment, and getting rid of
some of their ballast, in order to clear the steeples and other lofty
objects which appeared to lie in their route. The balloon, thus
lightened, rose above the grosser part of the atmosphere, but with
such little velocity as to afford the most gratifying spectacle to an
immense number of spectators.
While following it with my eyes, I began to draw comparisons in my
mind, and reflect on the rapid improvement made in these machines,
since I had seen Blanchard and his friend, Dr. Jefferies, leave Dover
Cliff in January 1785. They landed safely within a short distance of
Calais, as every one knows: yet few persons then conceived it
possible, or at least probable, that balloons could ever be applied
to any useful purpose, still less to the art of war. We find,
however, that at the battle of Fleurus, where the Austrians were
defeated, Jourdan, the French General, was not a little indebted for
his victory to the intelligence given him of the enemy's dispositions
by his aëronautic reconnoitring-party.
The sagacious Franklin seems to have had a presentiment of the future
utility of this invention. On the first experiments being made of it,
some one asked him: "Of what use are balloons?"--"Of what use is a
new-born child!" was the philosopher's answer.
Garnerin and his fellow-travellers being now at such a distance as
not to interest an observer unprovided with a telespope, I thought it
most prudent to gratify that ever-returning desire, which, according
to Dr. Johnson, excites once a day a serious idea in the mind even of
the most thoughtless. I accordingly retired to my own apartments,
where I had taken care that dinner should be provided for myself and
a friend, who, assenting to the propriety of allowing every man the
indulgence of his own caprice, had, like me, been taking a stroll
alone among the innumerable multitude of Paris.
After dinner, my friend and I sat chatting over our dessert, in order
that we might not arrive too soon at the scene of action. At six,
however, we rose from table, and separated. I immediately proceeded
to the _Tuileries_, which I entered by the centre gate of the _Place
du Carrousel_. The whole facade of the palace, from the base of the
lowest pillars up to the very turrets of the pavilions, comprising
the entablatures, &c. was decorated with thousands of _lampions_,
whence issued a steady, glaring light. By way of parenthesis, I must
inform you that these _lampions_ are nothing more than little
circular earthen pans, somewhat resembling those which are used in
England as receptacles for small flower-pots. They are not filled
with oil, but with a substance prepared from the offals of oxen and
in which a thick wick is previously placed. Although the body of
light proceeding from _lampions_ of this description braves the
weather, yet the smoke which they produce, is no inconsiderable
drawback on the effect of their splendour.
Nothing could exceed the brilliancy of the _coup d'oeil_ from the
vestibule of the palace of the _Tuileries_. The grand alley, as well
as the end of the parterre on each side and the edges of the basins,
was illuminated in a style equally tasteful and splendid. The
frame-work on which the lamps were disposed by millions, represented
lofty arcades of elegant proportion, with their several pillars,
cornices, and other suitable ornaments. The eye, astonished, though
not dazzled, penetrated through the garden, and, directed by this
avenue of light, embraced a view of the temporary obelisk erected
on the ridge of the gradual ascent, where stands the _Barrière de
Chaillot_; the road on each side of the _Champs Elysées_ presenting
an illuminated perspective, whose vanishing point was the obelisk
before-mentioned.
After loitering a short time to contemplate the west façade of the
palace, which, excelling that of the east in the richness of its
architecture, also excelled it in the splendour of its illuminations,
I advanced along the centre or grand alley to the _Place de la
Concorde_. Here, rose three _Temples_ of correct design and beautiful
symmetry, the most spacious of which, placed in the centre, was
dedicated to _Peace_, that on the right hand to the _Arts_, and that
on the left to _Industry_.
In front of these temples, was erected an extensive platform, about
five feet above the level of the ground, on which was exhibited a
pantomime, representing, as I was informed, the horrors of war
succeeded by the blessings of peace. Though I arrived in time to have
seen at least a part of it, I saw nothing, except the back of the
spectators immediately before me, and others, mounted on chairs and
benches, some of whom seemed to consider themselves fortunate if they
recovered their legs, when they came now and then to the ground, by
losing their equilibrium. These little accidents diverted me for the
moment; but a misadventure of a truly-comic nature afforded me more
entertainment than any pantomime I ever beheld, and amply consoled me
for being thus confined to the back-ground.
A lusty young Frenchman, who, from his head-dress _à la Titus_, I
shall distinguish by that name, escorting a lady whom, on account of
her beautiful hair, I shall style _Berenice_, stood on one of the
hindmost benches. The belle, habited in a tunic _à la Grecque_, with
a species of sandals which displayed the elegant form of her leg, was
unfortunately not of a stature sufficiently commanding to see over
the heads of the other spectators. It was to no purpose that the
gentleman called out "_à bas les chapeaux!_" When the hats were off,
the lady still saw no better. What will not gallantry suggest to a
man of fashionable education? Our considerate youth perceived, at no
great distance, some persons standing on a plank supported by a
couple of casks. Confiding the fair _Berenice_ to my care, he
vanished: but, almost in an, instant, he reappeared, followed by two
men, bearing an empty hogshead, which, it seems, he procured from the
tavern at the west entrance of the _Tuileries_. To place the cask
near the feet of the lady, pay for it, and fix her on it, was the
business of a moment. Here then she was, like a statue on its
pedestal, enjoying the double gratification of seeing and being seen.
But, for enjoyment to be complete, we must share it with those we
love. On examining the space where she stood, the lady saw there was
room for two, and accordingly invited the gentleman to place himself
beside her. In vain he resisted her entreaties; in vain he feared to
incommode her. She commanded; he could do no less than obey. Stepping
up on the bench, he thence nimbly sprang to the cask; but, O! fatal
catastrophe! while, by the light of the neighbouring clusters of
lamps, every one around was admiring the mutual attention of this
sympathizing pair, in went the head of the hogshead.
Our till-then-envied couple fell suddenly up to the middle of the leg
in the wine-lees left in the cask, by which they were bespattered up
to their very eyes. Nor was this all: being too eager to extricate
themselves, they overset the cask, and came to the ground, rolling in
it and its offensive contents. It would be no easy matter to picture
the ludicrous situation of Citizen _Titus_ and Madame _Berenice_.
This being the only mischief resulting from their fall, a universal
burst of laughter seized the surrounding spectators, in which I took
so considerable a share, that I could not immediately afford my
assistance.
LETTER XV.
_Paris, November 11, 1801._
What fortunate people are the Parisians! Yesterday evening so thick a
fog came on, all at once, that it was almost impossible to discern
the lamps in the streets, even when they were directly over-head. Had
the fog occurred twenty-four hours earlier, the effect of the
illuminations would have been entirely lost; and the blind would have
had the advantage over the clear-sighted. This assertion experience
has proved: for, some years ago, when there was, for several
successive days, a duration of such fogs in Paris, it was found
necessary, by persons who had business to transact out of doors, to
hire the blind men belonging to the hospital of the _Quinze-Vingts_,
to lead them about the streets. These guides, who were well
acquainted with the topography of the capital, were paid by the hour,
and sometimes, in the course of the day, each of them cleared five
louis.
Last night, persons in carriages, were compelled to alight, and grope
their way home as they could: in this manner, after first carefully
ascertaining where I was, and keeping quite close to the wall, I
reached my lodgings in safety, in spite of numberless interrogations
put to me by people who had, or pretended to have, lost themselves.
When I was interrupted in my account of the _fète_, we were, if I
mistake not, on the _Place de la Concorde_.
Notwithstanding the many loads of small gravel scattered here, with a
view of keeping the place clean, the quantity of mud collected in the
space of a few hours was really astonishing. _N'importe_ was the
word. No fine lady, by whatever motive she was attracted hither,
regretted at the moment being up to her ankles in dirt, or having the
skirt of her dress bemired. All was busy curiosity, governed by
peaceable order.
For my part, I never experienced the smallest uncomfortable squeeze,
except, indeed, at the conclusion of the pantomime, when the
impatient crowd rushed forward, and, regardless of the fixed bayonets
of the guards in possession of the platform, carried it by storm.
Impelled by the torrent, I fortunately happened to be nearly in front
of the steps, and, in a few seconds, I found, myself safely landed on
the platform.
The guard now receiving a seasonable reinforcement, order was
presently restored without bloodshed; and, though several persons
were under the necessity of making a retrograde movement, on my
declaring that I was an Englishman, I was suffered to retain my
elevated position, till the musicians composing the orchestras,
appropriated to each of the three temples, had taken their stations.
Admittance then became general, and the temples were presently so
crowded that the dancers had much difficulty to find room to perform
the figures.
Good-humour and decorum, however, prevailed to such a degree that,
during the number, of hours I mixed in the crowd, I witnessed not the
smallest disturbance.
Between nine and ten o'clock, I went to the _Pont de la Concorde_ to
view the fireworks played off from the _Temple of Commerce_ on the
river; but these were, as I understand, of a description far inferior
to those exhibited at the last National Fête of the 14th of July, the
anniversary of the taking of the Bastille.
This inferiority is attributed to the precaution dictated, by the
higher authorities, to the authors of the fireworks to limit their
ingenuity; as, on the former occasion, some accidents occurred of a
rather serious nature. The spectators, in general, appeared to me to
be disappointed by the mediocrity of the present exhibition.
I was compensated for the disappointment by the effect of the
illumination of the quays, which, being faced with stone, form a
lofty rampart on each embankment of the river. These were decorated
with several tiers of lamps from the top of the parapet to the
water's edge; the parapets and cornices of the bridges, together with
the circumference of the arches, were likewise illuminated, as well
as the gallery of the _Louvre_, and the stately buildings adjoining
the quays.
The palace of the Legislative Body, which faces the south end of the
_Pont de la Concorde_, formed a striking object, being adorned, in a
magnificent style, with variegated lamps and transparencies. No less
splendid, and in some respects more so, from the extent that it
presented, was the façade of the _ci-devant Garde-Meuble_, and the
corresponding buildings, which form the north side of the _Place de
la Concorde_, whither I now returned.
The effect of the latter was beautiful, as you may judge from the
description which I have already given you of this façade, in one of
my preceding letters. Let it suffice then to say, that, from the base
of the lower pillars to the upper cornice, it was covered with lamps
so arranged as to exhibit, in the most brilliant manner, the style
and richness of its architecture.
The crowd, having now been attracted in various directions, became
more penetrable; and, in regaining the platform on the _Place de la
Concorde_, I had a full view of the turrets, battlements, &c. erected
behind the three temples, in which the skilful machinist had so
combined his plan, by introducing into it a sight of the famous
horses brought from _Marly_, and now occupying the entrance of the
_Champs Elysées_, that these beautiful marble representations of that
noble animal seemed placed here on purpose to embellish his scenery.
Finding myself chilled by standing so many hours exposed to the
dampness of a November night, I returned to the warmer atmosphere of
the temples, in order to take a farewell view of the dancers. The
scene was truly picturesque, the male part of the groups being
chiefly composed of journeymen of various trades, and the females
consisting of a ludicrous medley of all classes; but it required no
extraordinary penetration to perceive, that, with the exception of a
few particular attachments, the military bore the bell, and, all
things considered, this was no more than justice. Independently of
being the best dancers, after gaining the laurels of victory in the
hard-fought field, who can deny that they deserved the prize of
beauty?
The dancing was kept up with the never-flagging vivacity peculiar to
this nation, and, as I conclude, so continued till a very late hour
in the morning. At half past eleven I withdrew, with a friend whom I
chanced to meet, to Véry's, the famous _restaurateur's_ in the
_Tuileries_, where we supped. On comparing notes, I found that I had
been more fortunate than he, in beholding to advantage all the sights
of the day: though it was meant to be a day of jubilee, yet it was
far from being productive of that mirth or gaiety which I expected.
The excessive dearness of a few articles of the first necessity may,
probably, be one cause of this gloom among the people. Bread, the
staff of life, (as it may be justly termed in France, where a much
greater proportion is, in general, consumed than in any other
country,) is now at the enormous price of eighteen _sous_ (nine-pence
sterling) for the loaf of four pounds. Besides, the Parisians have
gone through so much during the revolution, that I apprehend they
are, to a certain degree, become callous to the spontaneous
sensations of joy and pleasure. Be the cause what it may, I am
positively assured that the people expressed not so much hilarity at
this fête as at the last, I mean that of the 14th of July.
In my way home, I remarked that few houses were illuminated, except
those of the rich in the streets which are great thorough-fares.
People here, in general, I suppose, consider themselves dispensed
from lighting up their private residence from the consideration that
they collectively contribute to the public illumination, the expenses
of which are defrayed by the government out of the national coffers.
Several songs have been composed and published in commemoration of
this joyful event. Among those that have fallen under my notice, I
have selected the following, of which our friend M---s, with his
usual facility and taste, will, I dare say, furnish you an imitation.
CHANT D'ALLÉGRESSE,
_Pour la paix._
Air: _de la Marche Triomphante_.
_"Reviens pour consoler la terre,
Aimable Paix, descends des cieux,
Depuis assez long-tems la guerre
Afflige un peuple généreux,
Ah! quell' aurore pure & calme
S'offre à nos regards satisfaits!
Nous obtenons la double paline
De la victoire & de la paix._ bis.
_"Disparaissez tristes images,
D'un tems malheureux qui n'est plus,
Nous réparerons nos dommages
Par la sagesse & les vertus.
Que la paix enfin nous rallie!
Plus d'ingrats ni de mécontens,
O triomphe de la patrie!
Plus de Français indifférens._ bis.
_"Revenez phalanges guerrières,
Héros vengeurs de mon pays,
Au sein d'une épouse, d'un père,
De vos parens, de vos amis,
Revenez dans votre patrie
Après tant d'effrayans hazards,
Trouver ce qui charme la vie,
L'amitié, l'amour, et les arts._ bis.
_"Oh! vous qui, sous des catacombes,
Etes couchés au champ d'honneur,
Nos yeux sont fixés sur vos tombes,
En chantant l'hymne du vainqueur,
Nous transmettrons votre mémoire
Jusqu' aux siécles à venir,
Avec le burin de l'histoire,
Et les larmes du souvenir."_ bis.
SONG OF JOY,
_In honor of peace._
Imitated from the French.
To the same tune: _de la Marche Triomphante._
Come, lovely Peace, from heav'n descending,
Thy presence earth at length shall grace;
Those terrible afflictions ending,
That long have griev'd a gen'rous race:
We see Aurora rise refulgent;
Serene she comes to bless our sight;
While Fortune to our hopes indulgent,
Bids victory and peace unite.
Be gone, ye dark imaginations,
Remembrances of horrors past:
Virtue's and Wisdom's reparations
Shall soon be made, and ever last.
Now peace to happiness invites us;
The bliss of peace is understood:
With love fraternal peace delights us,
Our private ease, and country's good.
Re-enter, sons of war, your houses;
Heroic deeds for peace resign:
Embrace your parents and your spouses,
And all to whom your hearts incline:
Behold your countrymen invite you,
With open, arms, with open hearts;
Here find whatever can delight you;
Here friendship, love, and lib'ral arts.
Departed heroes, crown'd with glory,
While you are laid in Honour's bed,
Sad o'er your tombs we'll sing the story,
How Gallia's warriors fought and bled:
And, proud to shew to future ages
The claims to patriot valour due,
We'll vaunt, in our historic pages,
The debt immense we owe to you.
LETTER XVI.
_Paris, November 13, 1801._
Enriched, as this capital now is, with the spoils of Greece and
Italy, it may literally be termed the repository of the greatest
curiosities existing. In the CENTRAL MUSEUM are collected all the
prodigies of the fine arts, and, day after day, you may enjoy the
sight of these wonders.
I know not whether you are satisfied with the abridged account I gave
you of the GALLERY OF ANTIQUES; but, on the presumption that you did
not expect from me a description of every work of sculpture contained
in it, I called your attention to the most pre-eminent only; and I
shall now pursue the same plan, respecting the master-pieces of
painting exhibited in the great
GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE
This gallery, which is thirteen hundred and sixty-five feet in length
by thirty in breadth, runs north and south all along the quays of the
river Seine, and joins the _Louvre_ to the palace of the _Tuileries_.
It was begun by Charles IX, carried as far as the first wicket by
Henry IV, to the second by Lewis XIII, and terminated by Lewis XIV.
One half, beginning from a narrow strip of ground, called the _Jardin
de l'Infante_, is decorated externally with large pilasters of the
Composite order, which run from top to bottom, and with pediments
alternately triangular and elliptical, the tympanums of which, both
on the side of the _Louvre_, and towards the river, are charged with
emblems of the Arts and Sciences. The other part is ornamented with
coupled pilasters, charged with vermiculated rustics, and other
embellishments of highly-finished workmanship.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 | 10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30 |
31 |
32 |
33 |
34 |
35 |
36 |
37 |
38 |
39 |
40 |
41 |
42 |
43 |
44 |
45 |
46 |
47 |
48 |
49 |
50 |
51 |
52 |
53 |
54 |
55