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The progress of Paris and indeed the whole of France was retarded continually by famine, fourteen seasons of scarcity happening in the course of twenty-three years; in fact, from 843 to 899 such was often the state of desolation, that hunger impelled human beings to murder each other to feed upon the flesh of their bodies, which in many instances were sold, and bought with eagerness by those who were famishing with want. Unwholesome food caused thousands to be afflicted with a disease which was called the sacred fire, the ardent malady, and the infernal evil, the sufferers feeling as if they were devoured by an internal flame. To give some idea of the luxury of costume which existed in those days at Paris, it is but requisite to quote an address of Abbon the poet to the Parisians, written about the year 890, wherein hen observes: "An agraffe (a clasp) of gold fastens the upper part of your dress; to keep off the cold you cover yourselves with the purple of Tyre, you will have no other cloak than a chlamyde embroidered with gold, your girdle must be ornamented with precious stones, and gold must sparkle even upon your shoes, and on the cane which you carry. O France! if you do not abandon such luxurious extravagance, you will lose your courage and your country." Hugh Capet, who became king of France in 987, fixed his residence at Paris, thus again constituting it the capital of the kingdom, and his son and successor Robert, being a strict devotee, built and repaired several churches which had been greatly injured by the Normans, and Paris began in his reign to assume an appearance of improvement, which continued until it received a check from an ill-timed joke of Philippe the First, who made a satirical remark upon William the Conqueror of England having become rather unwieldy, which so provoked that choleric monarch that he laid waste a great portion of Philippe's dominions; when his progress was checked by his falling from his horse, which occasioned his death and thus delivered Philippe from a most powerful enemy. In the following reign, that of Lewis the Fat, learning began to make considerable progress, and the colleges of Paris to acquire a high celebrity, and amongst the professors whose reputation was of the highest, was Abelard, no one before having succeeded in attracting so many pupils. In 1118 he established a school in Paris, but from a variety of persecutions which he endured, he was frequently obliged to retire to different parts of France; his unfortunate attachment to Heloise is but too well known, and she ultimately became the abbess of a convent which Abelard founded at Nogent-sur-Seine, and which he called Paraclet. The number of pupils at one time are stated to have been three thousand, and he instructed them in the open air; it is also asserted that of his followers fifty became either bishops or archbishops, twenty cardinals, and one pope, Celestin II. In fact the fame of Abelard had arrived at such an altitude that he was the means of giving a new era to Paris, which was designated the city of letters; other professors became highly celebrated, and some authors pretend that the immense concourse of students who ultimately flocked to Paris, exceeded the number of the inhabitants, and there was much difficulty in finding the means of lodging them; how great must have been the anxiety for learning, as the masters were exceedingly brutal and imparted their knowledge to the pupil by the force of blows, which at length deterred many students from placing themselves under the charge of such preceptors. This extraordinary desire for obtaining education appears to have been almost a sudden impulse, as the immediate descendants of Hugh Capet could not read or write, but were obliged to make a mark as the signature to their edicts, whilst those who possessed that accomplishment were styled clerks. Although much brilliance was shed over the reign of Louis the Sixth by the learning of Abelard and the professors who followed him, yet soon after the barbarous custom was introduced of trial by combat; the idea might probably have been suggested by Louis having challenged Henry the First of England to decide their differences in a single encounter. Although Lewis the Fat was so bulky as to have obtained the cognomen by which he was always designated, he was one of the most active kings of France; constantly harrassed by perpetual wars with his neighbours and nobles, which he carried on personally and generally successfully, he first undertook the fortifying of Paris and is supposed to have constructed the greater and the lesser Chatelet, two towers on the opposite sides of the Seine, although many authors pretend that they were of a much more ancient date; he also built walls round a certain portion of the suburbs, which by that time had become part of Paris. It was said of Lewis VI, "He might have been a better king, a better man he could not." He died in 1137.
In the succeeding reign of Louis VII, surnamed the Younger, many privileges were granted to the Parisians which greatly increased the prosperity of the city; several public buildings were erected, amongst the rest an hospital which was the first ever built in Paris. But according to the descriptions of all authors who wrote at that period upon the subject, the streets were in a filthy condition in many parts of the city, and the names which have long since been changed were as dirty and indecent; some were absolutely ridiculous; as Did you find me Hard, Bertrand Sleeps, Cut Bread, John Bread Calf (alluding to the leg); the last still exists, as also Bad Advice, Bad Boys, etc. It was in this reign that the first crusade from France took place, and Louis VII was followed by 200,000 persons, and after various encounters with the Saracens, he owed his preservation to his own personal prowess; he was divorced from his Queen Eleanor, who afterwards married Henry II of England, and proved herself a detestable character in both kingdoms. Louis VII abolished one law which had long disgraced France, allowing the officers of the King on his arrival in Paris or other towns in his dominions, to enter any private house and take for the monarch's use such bedding or other articles of furniture as his Majesty might require. Louis also by force of arms compelled his nobles to desist from robbing the merchants, dealers, and the poor of their property. At this period the Fete des Fous, or feast of madmen was celebrated to its full extent, and anything more absurd, more farcical, or more irreverential cannot well be imagined. Dulaure, in his voluminous History of Paris, gives a most detailed account of this extraordinary mockery, of which I will give my readers a very brief abridgment.
On the first of January the clergy went in procession to the bishop who had been elected as the grand master of the fete, conducting him solemnly to the church with all the ecclesiastical banners usually borne on important occasions, amidst the ringing of bells; when arrived at the choir, he was placed in the episcopal seat, and mass was performed with the most extravagant gesticulations. The priests figuring away in the most ridiculous dresses; some in the costume of buffoons, others in female attire with their faces daubed with soot, or covered with hideous masks, some dancing, others jumping, or playing different games, drinking, and eating puddings, sausages, etc., offering them to the high-priest whilst he was celebrating high mass; also burning old shoes in the chalice, instead of incense, to produce a disagreeable scent; at length, elevated by wine, their orgies began to have the appearance of those of demons, roaring, howling, singing, and laughing until the walls of the church echoed with their yells. This was often carried on until they worked themselves up to a pitch of madness, and then they began boxing each other until the floor of the church would be smeared with blood; upon which most severe expiations were exacted from them; as, however, much has been shed in the cause of the church, it was not to be permitted that the holy sanctuary should ever be stained with aught so impure. The ecclesiastics at last quitting the church, got into carts filled with mud and filth, amusing themselves with flinging it upon the crowds who followed them in such streets as were wide enough for a cart to pass. It is conjectured that these festivities, with their nonsensical ceremonies, were of pagan origin, and probably the celebration of the Carnival is derived from the same source; many attempts were made to abolish so disgraceful a custom as the continuance of the Fetes des Fous, with the absurdities incidental to its revelries, but it was not until the Parisians became more enlightened that any monarch could succeed in its entire suppression.
In 1180 Philippe Auguste succeeded his father, and did more for Paris than all the works of his predecessors united; he reconstructed Notre Dame, and made it such as it now is with respect to the grand body of the building; but the variety of little chapels contained within it, and the elaborate workmanship, with the bas, mezzo and alto relievos with which it abounds, occupied two centuries. On the exterior of the building on the south side, about three feet and a half from the ground, is an inscription in raised letters nearly two inches long, and the date being perfectly distinct is 1257 written thus, MCCLVII. The two last characters have dropped, but the impression of them is clearly visible; the inscription itself is difficult to decypher, it is in Latin, and some of the letters are missing, others so curiously formed as to render them doubtful exactly as to their import. The greater part of the characters are Roman, the others resemble more the Saxon, yet are not quite so; at all events I recommend the inscription to the attention of the curious. A vast space, which is now covered with streets, commencing at the Rue des Saints Peres, and extending to the Invalids, consisted entirely of meadows, and was called the Pre aux Clercs, or the Clerks' Field, from the students and a number of young men who possessed some education, usually enjoying their recreations in this spot, but certainly not in the most innocent manner, in fact, the disorders committed in this privileged piece of ground, which the students considered as their own, were such as to be often named in history, and to have formed the subject of a favourite Melo Drama; it retained its character as being the scene of turbulence and disorder even to the time of Louis XIV.
Amongst other useful undertakings effected by Philippe Auguste was that of establishing markets with covered stalls, and he it was that first conceived the idea of paving Paris, which he partially effected, and surrounded the town with a wall, part of which is still standing in the Rue Clovis. Paris increased and flourished under his reign; he in fact did all that was possible to augment its prosperity, and amongst other measures he granted the utmost protection in his power to the students, knowing that the more the population of the city increased, the more flourishing was its condition; by such means he induced scholars to come in numbers from the most distant parts to study in the colleges of Paris, two of which he erected, as well as three hospitals; he also instituted many good laws, which protected the tradespeople and repressed the robberies and extortions of the nobles. But Paris was still subject to calamities, a flood having occurred from the overflowing of the Seine, which reached as high as the second floor windows of some houses. A great part of Paris was occupied with monasteries and convents, which with their gardens covered an immense space; in the course of time, however, the monks found it advantageous to dispose of their lands for the purpose of building dwelling-houses, and in the Revolution numbers were suppressed; and in some quarters of the city there are warehouses in the occupation of different tradesmen, which formerly formed part of the old monasteries. Many of the streets by their names still indicate the order of the convents by which they were occupied, as the Rue Blanc Manteaux (White Cloaks), Rue des Saints Peres (Holy Fathers), Filles de Dieu (Daughters of God), which now is one of the narrowest and dirtiest streets in Paris, and inhabited by daughters of a very different description. Such are the extraordinary changes which time effects. Philippe Auguste dying in 1223, was succeeded by his son Louis VIII, surnamed the Lion, whose short reign of four years was occupied by war, leaving no leisure for effecting any great improvement in Paris; but under his successor Lewis IX, styled Saint-Louis, much was effected, although his efforts were principally directed towards the erection of religious institutions, being much under the dominion of the priests, and naturally possessing a fanatic zeal. Churches at that period were too often but monuments of superstition for the celebration of mummery, for sheltering criminals, receptacles for pretended relics, and in fact instruments for maintaining the power of priestcraft. This same Saint Louis, so lauded by some authors, had some excellent notions of his own, and was very fond of practising summary justice, recommending to his nobles that whenever they met with any one who expressed any doubts regarding the Christian religion, never to argue with the sceptist, but immediately plunge their swords into his body.
Rhetoric at this period was a study much followed and admired, but the logic of Saint-Louis, I suspect, was the most forcible and best calculated to remove all doubts, having a great objection to language that was what some persons would style far too energetic; where an oath was suffered to escape, he ordered the intemperate orator's tongue to be pierced with a hot iron and his lips burnt; hence many of his subjects were compelled to endure that operation; but this was considered in those days all very saint-like. They had strange ideas in some instances, in days of yore, according to our present notion of words and things. Louis the First, surnamed the Debonnaire (the gentle), had his nephew Bernard's eyes bored out; this act was certainly very like a gentle man. Hugh the Great, so called on account of his splendid virtues, in the year 1014 thought it proper that he should be present at the burning of a few heretics, and his lady, with her ardent religious zeal, stepped forward and poked out the eye of her confessor, who was one of the victims, with her walking cane, before he was committed to the flames. Louis however had some redeeming qualities; he founded the Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, which still exists; he also enlarged and improved the Hotel Dieu, the principal hospital in those days, in which he even exceeded the munificence of his predecessor, Philippe Auguste, who published an ordonnance commanding that all the straw which had been used in his chamber should be given to the Hotel Dieu, whenever he quitted Paris and no longer wanted it; such overpowering kindness one would imagine must have had the effect of curing some of the invalids who were capable of appreciating the high honour conferred upon them, in being suffered to lie upon straw which had been trodden by royal feet. Saint Louis also founded the celebrated College of the Sorbonne, which is still existing, and maintains a high character; he also built the curious and interesting chapel adjoining the Palais de Justice, which is well worth the amateur's attention; he founded the Hospital of Les Filles de Dieu, for the purpose of reclaiming women of improper conduct. The Mendicant Monks, the Augustines, and the Carmes were established in France during his reign, and he founded the convents of the Beguines, Mathurins, Jacobins, Carthusians, Cordeliers, and several others of minor importance, in Paris, with the chapels attached to them; besides different churches with which I shall not tire my reader with recapitulating, as there are none of them now standing, except the chapel belonging to the Palais de Justice; he also added several fountains, contributing to the comforts of the Parisians, as well as embellishing their city. The number of churches which have been demolished in Paris within the last fifty years, exceeds the number of those which are now standing, many of them during the Revolution, which might have been expected; but an equal number under the Restoration in the reigns of Louis the Eighteenth and Charles the Tenth, who being rather devotees, one would have imagined might have been induced to repair and preserve all religious monuments, also highly interesting as specimens of the architecture of the different ages in which they were founded. Louis Philippe has better kept up the spirit of the restoration in having rescued from demolition the ancient and beautiful church of St Germain l'Auxerrois; which was to have been pulled down to make way for a new street, according to the plan projected by his predecessor; instead of which, it has been repaired with the greatest judgment, carefully preserving the original style of the building wherever ornaments or statues required to be renewed. Thus this noble edifice has been preserved to the public, which would not have been the case had the Revolution of the Three Days not occurred, as its doom was sealed prior to that period. In fact, since the accession to the throne of Louis Philippe, I do not believe that any church has been pulled down, though several others have been built, and others finished, which have greatly added to the embellishments of the city. The memory of Louis IX has ever been cherished as that of a Saint, and if a man be judged by the number of religious establishments he instituted, certainly he deserved to be canonised; but however grand may be the reputation of having founded and erected so many public monuments, yet when it is considered that numbers of the inmates of the different convents and monasteries erected by this Saint were obliged to demand alms from house to house, and of persons passing along the streets, it will be proved that the grand result of Saint Louis' operations was to fill Paris with beggars; although it certainly must be admitted that some of his other acts in a great degree compensated for those into which he was led by superstition and religious fanaticism: he was succeeded by his son Philippe the Bold in 1270, who suffered himself to be governed by his favourite, La Brosse, formerly a barber, in which it must be admitted that Philippe displayed rather a barbarous taste, which ended in his pet being hanged; his reign, however, was signalised by the establishment of a College of Surgeons, who were designated by the appellation of Surgeons of the Long Robe, whilst the barbers were styled Surgeons of the Short Robe; he also recalled the Jews, whom his father, after having persecuted in divers manners, banished and confiscated their property; amongst other indignities which were put upon them by Saint Louis, was that of forcing them to wear a patch of red cloth on their garment both before and behind, in the shape of a wheel, that they might be distinguished from Christians, and marked as it were for insult. In Philippe's reign, however, merit found its reward, no matter how low the origin from whence it sprang, and several authors, particularly poets, wrote boldly against the extreme hypocrisy which existed in the preceding reign, and literature made great progress.
In 1285 Philippe the Fair, so named on account of his handsome person, succeeded to the throne of his father; in his ardent thirst for money he changed the value of the coinage three times, and caused a riot which ended by his hanging twenty-eight of the conspirators at the different entrances of Paris, and had numbers of persons accused of crimes in order to have them executed that he might obtain possession of their property; thus hundreds were burned alive and tortured in various manners. One act, however, threw a degree of lustre on his reign, and that was the organisation of the Parliament at Paris, establishing it as a sovereign court, their sittings being held in the Palais de Justice, the residence at that period of the kings of France. For several succeeding reigns Paris appeared to make but little progress; some churches were built as also other establishments, but none which are now standing, except some portions of them which may have escaped destruction and are now in the occupation of different tradespeople. The government became exceedingly poor, and several measures were adopted in order to repair the finances of the state; amongst others, that of suffering serfs to purchase their emancipation, of which many availed themselves, but not sufficient effectually to replenish the exhausted treasury. For the same reason the property of the Lombards was confiscated, next recourse was had to the Jews, and even the exactions imposed upon them were inadequate to the wants of the nation. The succession of several weak kings had brought affairs into this state, when Philippe the Sixth of Valois crowned the misfortunes of the country by entering into a war with England, at a time when the funds of his kingdom were at the lowest ebb; constantly engaged in hostilities, he had not leisure or the means of attending to the welfare of the Parisians, and the disasters he encountered caused his reign to be remembered as a series of misfortunes. Several colleges, however, were founded in his reign; amongst others, that of the College des Ecossais (Scotch College) then in the Rue des Amandiers, but now existing in the Rue des Fosses St. Victor. It was first instituted by David, Bishop of Murray, in Scotland, but the present building was erected by Robert Barclay in 1662.
The College des Lombards was founded by a number of Italians, and was some years afterwards deserted, but in 1633 was given by the government to two Irish priests, and has from that period become an Irish seminary; and several other colleges, which have either been abandoned or their locality changed, and often united to other colleges, some of which are still existing. On the death of Philippe, John, surnamed the Good, ascended a throne of trouble in 1350, and encountered a succession of misfortunes of which Paris had its share; from the immense number of churches, monasteries, colleges, hospitals, and other public edifices, the wall which surrounded Paris, built by Philippe-Auguste, enclosed too limited a space to contain the houses of the increased population, which continued to augment, notwithstanding all the impediments which bad government could create. A more extended wall therefore became necessary to protect those inhabitants who resided beyond the limits of the first, and whose position was likely to be compromised by the position in which France was placed by the battle of Poitiers, by a band of ruffians called the Companions, who carried desolation wherever they appeared, and by what was termed La Jacquerie, hordes of peasants who were armed and levied contributions upon the peaceable inhabitants as they traversed the country, in groups too numerous to be withstood by the tranquil residents. The extension of the wall was erected under the superintendence of Etienne Marcel, called Prevot des Marchands; what might be termed Mayor or Chief Magistrate of the tradespeople, a man of extraordinary energy, which he exerted to the utmost for the benefit of his fellow citizens, and at this period first began the custom of putting chains at night across the streets as a measure of security, as notwithstanding that Paris was menaced on all sides by enemies from without, insurrections of the most violent nature took place within its walls, commencing on account of the Dauphin, who was governor of Paris and regent of the kingdom (in consequence of the imprisonment of his father John in England), issuing a coinage consisting of base metal which he was compelled to recall; but the fire-brand was kindled, other grievances were mooted, thirty thousand armed Parisians assembled headed by Etienne Marcel, who himself stabbed Robert de Clermont, Marshal of Normandy, and Jean de Conflans, Marshal of Champagne, in the presence of the Dauphin; but to save the latter from the fury of the people, Marcel changed hats with the Prince, thus affording him a passport, by causing him to wear a hat that bore the colours of the people, blue and red. After a tremendous slaughter, Marcel and his principal friends were themselves dispatched by the partisans of the Dauphin. During all these convulsions in the interior of Paris, it was surrounded on one side by the troops of the King of Navarre, whilst the forces of the Dauphin were hovering under the walls, the different parties skirmishing with each other, and all living upon the pillage and contributions levied on the inhabitants of the adjacent country.
Meantime famine thinned the population of Paris, cut off from any means of receiving provisions from without; but on account of the wall constructed by Marcel, Edward III of England found it impossible to make any progress in the siege, and having exhausted the country for some leagues of extent, was obliged to retreat for want of food to maintain his army. The scarcity of money was such in Paris at that period, that they were compelled to have a circulation of leather coin, with a little nail of gold or silver stuck in the middle; yet when John returned from his captivity in England, the streets were hung with carpets wherever he had to pass, and a cloth of gold borne over his head, the fountains poured forth wine, and the city made him a present of a silver buffet weighing a thousand marcs. At this period schools existed in Paris sanctioned by the government, when the pay for each scholar was so contemptible that they must have been for the use of the middle classes, whose means were very confined; they were called Petites Ecoles (Little Schools), and paid a certain sum for having the privilege to teach; the number in the reign of John was sixty-three, of which forty-one were under masters, and twenty-two under mistresses. In some of the streets of Paris it was the custom to have two large doors or gates, which were closed at night, and the names of several streets still bear evidence of that practice, as the Rue des deux Portes; the Rue des Deux-Portes-Saint-Jean, des Deux-Portes-Saint-Sauveur, etc.
During the reign of John, about 1350, a poem appeared, which contained advice as to the conduct ladies ought to observe who wished to act with propriety, and as my fair countrywomen are generally willing to listen to good counsel, no matter how remote the period from which it is derived, I cannot resist giving them the benefit of some of the recommendations of the sapient poet to the Parisian belles, some of which are certainly highly commendable. The verses were written by a monk, whose name I have forgotten.
"In walking to church never trot or run, salute those you meet upon the way, and even return the salutations of the poor; when at church it is not proper to look either to the right or the left, neither to speak nor to laugh out loud, but to rise to the Gospel and courteously make the sign of the cross, to go to the offering without either laughing or joking, at the moment of the elevation also to rise; then kneel and pray for all Christians; to recite by heart her prayers, and if she can read, to pray from her psalmody.
"A courteous lady ought to salute all in going out of church, both great and small.
"Those whom nature have endowed with a good voice ought not to refuse to sing when they are asked.
"Cleanliness is so necessary for ladies, that it is an obligation for them to cut their nails.
"It is not proper for a lady to stop in passing the house of a neighbour, to look into the interior, because people may be doing things that they do not wish others to know.
"When you go and visit a person, never enter abruptly, nor take any one by surprise, but announce your coming by coughing.
"At table, a lady should not speak nor laugh too much, and should always turn the biggest and the best pieces to her guests, and not choose them for herself.
"Every time a lady has drank wine she should wipe her mouth with the table-cloth, but not her eyes or her nose, and she should take care not to soil and grease her fingers in eating, more than she can possibly help." The reader must remember that forks were not used until the reign of Henry III. The author also cautions the ladies to be very careful not to drink to excess, observing that a lady loses talent, wit, beauty, and every charm, when she is elevated with wine; they are also recommended not to swear.
He continues: "Ladies should not veil their faces before nobles; they may do so when they are on horseback or when they go to church, but on entering they should show their countenances, and particularly before people of quality.
"Ladies should never receive presents from gentlemen of jewels or other things, except from a well intentioned near relation, otherwise it is very blameable.
"It is not becoming for ladies to wrestle with men, and they are also cautioned not to lie or to steal." Then follow certain instructions for ladies as to the answers they should make and the manner they should conduct themselves when they receive a declaration. I hope English ladies will be much edified by the above instructions. The cries of Paris at this period were constant and absolutely stunning; Guillaume de la Villeneuve observes that the criers were braying in the streets of Paris from morning to night. Amongst the vegetables, garlick was the most prevalent, which was then eaten with almost every thing, people being in the habit of rubbing their bread with it: the flour of peas and beans made into a thick paste was sold all hot; onions, chervil, turnips, aniseed, leeks, etc., a variety of pears and apples of sorts that are now scarcely known, except Calville, services, medlers, hips and other small fruits now no longer heard of; nuts, chesnuts of Lombardy, Malta grapes, etc.; for beverage, wine at about a farthing a quart; mustard vinegar, verjuice, and walnut oil; pastry, fresh and salted meat, eggs and honey. Others went about offering their services to mend your clothes, some to repair your tubs, or polish your pewter; candles, cotton for lamps, foreign soup, and almost every article that can be imagined was sold in the streets, sometimes the price demanded was a bit of bread. The millers also went bawling about to know if you had any corn to grind, and amongst those that demanded alms were the scholars, the monks, the nuns, the prisoners and the blind.
It was the custom in those days, when a person wished to be revenged upon another, to make an image of him in wax or mud, as much resembling as possible. They then took it to a priest and had it named after the person they wished to injure, with all the ceremonies of the church, and anointed it, and lastly had certain invocations pronounced over the unfortunate image. It was then supposed that the figure had some degree of identity with the prototype, and any injury inflicted upon it would be felt by the person they wished to harm; they therefore then set to work to torture it according to their fancy, and at last would plunge a sharp instrument into that part where the heart should be placed, feeling quite satisfied they had wreaked their revenge on their enemy. Sometimes persons were severely punished for the performance of this farce, and when any individuals experienced some great misfortune, they often imagined that it had arisen in consequence of their image having been made by their enemy, and maltreated in the manner described.
When Charles V ascended the throne in 1364, he soon began to display his taste for civilisation by collecting books to form a library in the Louvre, and rewarding merit, however humble the station of the individual by whom it was possessed; and although he received the reins of government at a period when France was surrounded with enemies, and her finances in a ruined state, such was the prudence of his measures that he completely retrieved her losses, and well earned the appellation he received of Charles the Wise; he built several churches, colleges, and hotels, none of which if standing are now appropriated to the purposes originally intended; he also had several bridges constructed, and embellished Paris with many edifices that were both useful and ornamental. But all his efforts were paralysed in the following reign of Charles VI, justly called the Simple, partly mad, partly imbecile, and coming to the throne at twelve years of age, every misfortune that might have been expected from a country surrounded by foreign enemies without, and torn by intestine broils within, happened in the fullest force. The English and the Burgundians united together in besieging Paris, which was ultimately entered by both their armies; what with riots amongst the Parisians, the intrigues of the Queen Isabeau de Baviere, the dissensions of the King's uncles, and the brigandage of the nobility who overran the country, never was a nation reduced to a more pitiable condition; yet some monuments were added to Paris even during this turbulent reign, the Church of St. Gervais being entirely reconstructed in 1420, and that of St. Germain l'Auxerrois so considerably repaired as to be almost rebuilt in 1425, besides several colleges, hospitals and bridges; companies of archers, cross-bow men and armourers were also established. Theatrical representations were first performed in this reign in the grand hall of the Hospital of the Trinity, Rue Saint-Denis, corner of the Rue Grenetat. The theatrical company styled themselves "Masters, Governors and Brethren of the Passion and Resurrection of our Lord." Under the reign of Charles VII, surnamed the Victorious, France regained all she had lost, and was much indebted for her success to the Maid of Orleans, and the gallant Dunois, who entered Paris and defeated the English who retreated to the Bastille and ultimately were allowed to retire to Rouen. But although more was effected in this reign for the prosperity and glory of France, Paris received no additions or embellishments: the King being wholly occupied in vanquishing the enemies of his country; his son Lewis XI, who is supposed to have conspired against the life of his father, ascended the throne in 1461; notwithstanding his reign was disturbed by a series of wars, he found time to occupy himself with useful institutions, and founded that of the first society of printers in Paris; he also established the School of Medicine, and the Post Office. Superstitious and cruel, he first used iron cages as prisons, then instituted the prayer styled the Angelus. Although he increased the power of France, his tyranny, injustice, dissimulation, and avarice caused him to be hated by his subjects. His successor Charles VIII was but thirteen when called to the throne in 1483, inheriting the few virtues without the many vices of his father, but showed much weakness in the administration of his affairs; in the early part of his reign Anne his mother was the person who principally governed as Regent, until he was of age, when he passed the rest of his life in war, but was so beloved that two of his servants died of grief for the loss of their master, who was surnamed the Affable. He was succeeded by his cousin Lewis XII in 1498, who obtained the title of Father of his People, certainly the most virtuous monarch that ever swayed the sceptre of France; he observed that he preferred seeing his courtiers laugh at his savings than to see his people weep for his expenses. The Hotel de Cluny and Le Pont (the bridge) Notre-Dame were constructed in his reign and are still standing; being the most ancient bridge in Paris. He died much regretted, in 1515, and all France felt deeply the loss of a monarch, whose measures were such as must have ensured the happiness of his people could he have been spared to have accomplished the good work he had begun.
Francis I, his great nephew, succeeded him and was considered the beau ideal of chivalry; he had been conspicuous for his accomplishments whilst Duke de Valois, although only twenty-one when he ascended the throne, upon which he was no sooner installed than compelled to quit his capital to oppose the enemies of France, leaving the management of the state to his mother Louisa of Savoy, who was not destitute of talent, but vain and intriguing, Francis, after performing prodigies of valour, and killing many foes with his own hand at the battle of Pavia, was taken prisoner and conveyed to Madrid. On returning to France he was received with the utmost joy by his subjects; in this reign the principles of protestantism were first promulgated and several persons were burnt for subscribing to the tenets of Luther. Francis was occupied constantly with war, from the commencement of his reign until the year of his death. He had many virtues but they were sullied by infidelity to his engagements, and his persecution of the protestants whom he sacrificed as heretics. Notwithstanding that his time was so much occupied by his enemies that a very short period of his reign was passed at Paris, he found means to embellish that city; the Church of St-Merri in the Rue St-Martin was built by his orders, precisely as it now stands, in the year 1520. The style is Sarrasenzic, much richness of sculpture is displayed, particularly over and around the middle door, well meriting the close attention of an amateur. At the same period were many of the churches now standing extensively repaired and nearly rebuilt, amongst which St. Eustache, St. Gervais, St. Jacques-la-Boucherie, of which the tower only remains, St. Germain-l'Auxerrois, etc., several colleges and hospitals were instituted, fountains and hotels erected, but scarcely any of them are now to be seen, or at any rate very few as constructed in their original form. He was succeeded by his son Henry II in 1547, who like his predecessors was constantly occupied with war, but gained one point, that of taking the last place which the English retained in France, being Calais, which surrendered to the Duke de Guise; after a reign of thirteen years Henry was killed at a tournament held in the Rue St-Antoine, by Montgomery, the captain of his guard. The cruelties of which he was guilty towards the protestants entirely eclipse whatever good qualities he possessed, which principally consisted in desperate courage with extraordinary prowess; he was also zealous in his friendships. According to Dulaure, that part of the Louvre which is the oldest, was built by Henry II from the design of Pierre Lescot. I have found other authors attribute the erection of a portion of the Louvre to Francis, but it appears that his son had all pulled down which was then standing, and had it built as it now remains, except the wing in which the pictures are exhibited, which is of a more recent date, and was not terminated until the time of Louis XIV. The augmentation of some few colleges and hospitals were the only acts of this reign from which any advantages to Paris were derived.
In 1559, at the age of sixteen, Francis II ascended the throne; his name is familiar to us as the first husband of the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots; his mother, Catherine de Medici, of infamous memory, took the reigns of government in her hands and wreaked all her fury upon the protestants. Francis, too young to have displayed any decided tone of character, expired in 1560; the persecution of the huguenots, as the followers of the Reformed Church were styled, seems to have exclusively occupied the whole time during this short reign, therefore no attention was devoted to the improving of Paris, which was next brought under the dominion of the young monster, Charles IX, or rather the continued reign of his sanguinary mother, Catherine, he being but ten years of age. The massacre of the night of St. Bartholomew is known to all. Charles certainly had some revulsive feelings on the subject, and several times would have given orders to stop it, but Catherine bade him assert the claims of heaven, and be the noble instrument of its vengeance, "Go on, then," exclaimed the King, "and let none remain to reproach me with the deed," and after all, when daylight appeared, he placed himself at a window of the Louvre, which overlooks the Seine, and with a carbine he fired at the unfortunate fugitives who tried to save themselves by swimming across the river. In his reign was built the Tuileries, he himself laying the first stone; it was intended for the Queen Mother, but Catherine did not inhabit it long, her conscience not permitting her to enjoy repose anywhere. Charles died a few months after the dreadful massacre of the protestants, a prey to all the pangs of remorse, and was succeeded in 1574 by his brother Henry III. Brought up in the same pernicious school, under the same infamous mother as his predecessor, little could be hoped from such a being; he was inclined, however, to be somewhat more tolerant than his brother, but was frightened into persecuting the protestants; his mother died at the age of seventy, goaded by the consciousness of the crimes she had committed; civil war raged during the reign of Henry, and he was obliged to quit his capital and join the protestants, whom he soon, however, betrayed; without energy to adopt any certain line of conduct, he balanced between the two parties of catholics and protestants, until both sects despised him, and at length he was stabbed by a fanatic friar, named Jacques Clement. Several convents and religious establishments were founded in his reign, amongst the rest the Feuillans, which was extensive and had a church attached, but in 1804 the whole was demolished, and on its site, and that of the monastery of the Capucins, were built the Rue Rivoli, Castiglione, and Monthabor, and a terrace of the gardens of the Tuileries is still called the Feuillans. The Pont Neuf was also built in this reign. In 1589, Henry IV, surnamed the Great, succeeded to the throne; he was of the house of Bourbon, and descended from Robert, the second son of Louis the Ninth. He was compelled to begin his reign by laying siege to his own capital, which was in the hands of his enemies, who defended it with 58,000 troops, and 1,500 armed priests, scholars and monks, and after three years' vain endeavours he was obliged to renounce the protestant religion, and conform to the catholic ceremonies, which produced a truce, and Henry at last entered Paris. By his mild and judicious conduct he regenerated the prosperity of France, and published the famous edict of Nantes in favour of the protestants, and acted with considerable wisdom under the difficult circumstances in which he was placed, by the intemperate zeal of the catholics and huguenots. At last, after many unsuccessful attempts upon his life, he was stabbed in his own carriage by Ravaillac, a religious fanatic, who conceived that the King was not sufficiently zealous in the cause of catholicism; he was regretted by every worthy character throughout his realms, for, although he had many of the faults common to men, yet he had such redeeming qualities that he well merited the title of Great. During his reign Paris was considerably embellished, the improvement of the city being with him a favourite object. The Hospital of Saint Louis was built by his orders, himself laying the first stone; it is still standing, and is generally filled with patients, who receive the most humane treatment. It is situated in the Rue Careme Prenant, near the Barriere du Combat. He established a manufactory of Persian carpets, on the Quai de Billy, No. 30.
The Rue and Place Dauphine, the Place Royale, which still exhibits a square of houses unaltered in style since the day they were built, owed their construction to his mania for building and passion for augmenting and improving his capital. Several other streets were extended and in part rebuilt under his reign, besides which he founded different institutions, had divers fountains and gates erected, as well as bridges, and some other public edifices, which having since disappeared or become the houses of individuals, workshops, warehouses, etc., it is not worthwhile to recapitulate them, as they cease to be objects of interest. Several theatres were established at this period for the first time, the performers having merely given representations in large rooms belonging to public buildings where they could get accommodation, particularly in the Hotel de Bourgoyne, in the Rue Mauconseil, which at last acquired the name of a theatre; but a company of Italians received such encouragement from Henry IV, that they were enabled, in a situation assigned them regularly, to establish a theatre in the Hotel d'Argent, Rue de la Poterie, corner of the Rue de la Verrerie. He was equally the patron of literature, and of the arts and sciences; the Tuileries and Louvre, under his directions, received the material and superintendence which was requisite for their completion, as far as the design extended at that epoch.
In 1610 Louis XIII, but nine years of age, became heir to the throne, and Marie de Medici, his mother and widow of Henry IV, was nominated Regent; her first act was to call into power all her husband's enemies, which consisted of her own favourites, through whom she governed, and when her regency ceased, her son followed her example and became the instrument of others, until the power of governing was exclusively acquired by Cardinal Richelieu, who devoted his extraordinary talents in a degree to the interests of his country, but more especially to the gratification of his vanity, and the promotion of his ambitious projects; descending to the extremes of injustice, dissimulation, and cruelty, to accomplish his object, he became the persecutor of Mary, who had raised him from comparative obscurity, and caused her exile, in which she died in poverty, which she certainly merited by her misconduct, but not by the instigation of her protege Richelieu. But with all his sins, he effected much good; he founded the Royal Printing establishment, the French Academy, also the Garden of Plants; he built the Palais-Royal and rebuilt the Church and College of the Sorbonne. In this reign more religious establishments were founded than in any preceding, amongst which were the Convent of the Carmes Dechausses, No. 70, Rue de Vaugirard, the monks of which possessed a secret for making a particular kind of liquid which is called Eau des Carmes, and is still in demand; the church and building belonging to the establishment are now standing, and were recently occupied by nuns. The Convent of Jacobins between the Rues du Bac and St-Dominique, with its Church, which still remains and is called St-Thomas d'Aquin, is well worth notice, and the monastery is now occupied by the armoury which is one of the most interesting sights of Paris. The Benedictines Anglaises, No. 269, Rue St-Jacques, was formerly occupied by English monks, who fled their country on account of some persecution in the reign of Henry VIII.
In 1674, Father Joseph Shirburne, the prior of monastery, pulled down the old building, and erected another in its place more commodious, also a church attached to it in which James the Second of England was buried, as also his daughter Mary Stuart. It has now become the property of an individual, and is at present occupied as a factory of cotton. The Oratoire in the Rue Saint-Honore, since devoted to protestant worship, was built in the year 1621 by M. de Berulle, since Cardinal, on the site of the Hotel du Bouchage, once the residence of Gabrielle d'Estrees, the favourite mistress of Henry IV. The Convent of the Capucins, situated in the Place des Capucins, at present an Hospital. Seminaire des Oratoriens, Rue du Faubourg Saint-Jacques, 254, now occupied by the Deaf and Dumb. College des Jesuites, at present College of Louis-le-Grand. Convent of Petits-Peres: the church of which still remains and is situated at the corner of the Rue Notre-Dame-des-Victoires. The Monk Fiacre, called a Saint, was buried in this church; thinking that his sanctity was a preservative against evil, they stuck his portrait on all the hackney coaches, which was the cause of their ever after being called Fiacre.
A further recapitulation of these establishments would only be tedious to the reader, particularly as they are now for the most part become private houses; suffice it to say, that in the reign of Louis XIII twenty monasteries were established at Paris. The nunnery of Ursulines; No. 47, Rue Sainte-Avoye, now a Jews' synagogue. The Convent of the Visitation of St. Mary, Rue Saint-Antoine, Nos. 214 and 216; the church, still standing, was built in 1632 after the model of Notre-Dame-de-la-Rotonde at Rome, and is called Notre-Dame-des-Anges. Another convent of the same order was built in 1623 in the Rue Saint-Jacques, Nos. 193 and 195, and is I believe still occupied by nuns, as it was so very recently. The convent of Filles-de-la-Madeleine, Rue des Fontaines, between the Nos. 14 and 16, which has now become a house of seclusion for women who have been convicted of offences. The Convent of the Annonciades Celestes or Filles Bleues, founded by the Marchioness de Verneuil, mistress of Henry IV, is now in spite of all its pompous titles a waggon office in the Rue Culture-Sainte-Catherine, No. 29. The Assumption, a convent for nuns, of which the church is still standing in the Rue Saint-Honore, between the Nos. 369 and 371, is remarkable for its large dome, but appears out of proportion with the rest of the building, which is otherwise not destitute of merit. The Val-de-Grace, a Benedictine Abbey, Rue Faubourg Saint-Jacques, between the Nos. 277 and 279. The Queen Anne of Austria founded the establishment in 1621; the church is still preserved in perfect order, and is of very rich architecture, too profuse in ornament. The rest of the building, once inhabited by Benedictine nuns, is now an asylum for sick or wounded soldiers, being a military hospital. Port-Royal, a convent for nuns, established in 1625 in the Rue de la Bourbe, is now a lying-in hospital. The Convent of the Filles de Sainte-Elisabeth; the first stone was laid by Marie de Medici in 1628, but was, like a multitude of others, suppressed in 1790, the church only remaining; it is situated in the Rue du Temple, between Nos. 107 and 109.
A Convent for Benedictine Nuns founded in 1636 in the Rue de Sevres, No. 3, being suppressed in 1778, was converted into the more useful purpose of an hospital, and as such it still remains. The Convent of the Filles de la Ste-Croix, situated No. 86, Rue de Charonne, was occupied as recently as 1823 by nuns; it was founded in 1639. The noble church of St-Roch, Rue St-Honore, was commenced as a chapel in 1587, and in 1622 was converted into a parish church, but was not entirely finished until 1740. It is now the church attended by the royal family, and is an object of interest to every one who visits Paris. The church of Ste-Marguerite was erected in 1625 in the Rue St-Bernard, Nos. 28 and 30, Faubourg St-Antoine, and is still attended by the inhabitants of that quarter. Maison de Scipion was founded in a street of the same name in the year 1622 by an Italian gentleman named Scipio Sardini, and is now the bakehouse for making bread for all the hospitals in Paris. Such were the principal edifices instituted in Paris, during the reign of Louis XIII, either as Convents, Monasteries, or Nunneries, with churches attached to them; I have cited the most conspicuous of those of which any vestiges remain, indicating their different localities, besides a number of hospitals, most of which I have stated; that of the Incurables certainly merits attention, it was founded in 1632 in the Rue de Sevres, and is now a refuge for those women of whom no hopes can be cherished of ultimate recovery. The Palace of the Luxembourg was one of the most important edifices erected in this reign by Mary de Medici whilst she was regent in 1615, in the Rue Vaugirard, at present the Chamber of Peers, after having served the purpose of a prison, for which a portion of it is still appropriated for criminals against the state; but with its large and beautiful gardens it merits a more detailed description, which will be given under the head of public monuments. The whole number of religious establishments of all descriptions built in the reign of Louis XIII, amount to forty-nine, besides many Bridges, Fountains, Hotels, Statues, etc., etc.; which altogether so augmented Paris that it became requisite to have another wall, affording the capital more extended dimensions, which was accordingly constructed. Notwithstanding all these improvements the streets of Paris were in a most filthy condition, constantly emitting a disagreeable odour; they were very narrow and the greater portion of them very ill paved, besides which they were infested with thieves, and complaints were continually arising against the hosts of pages and lackeys who insulted people in the streets, and were continually committing some disorders, both during the day and the night, when persons were frequently killed in the skirmishes that were constantly taking place. Ordinances and edicts were continually appearing, forbidding the pages and lackeys to wear arms, but all of no avail; when any one was arrested, he was rescued by his companions, and the officers of police sometimes killed. Louis XIII, ever feeble in mind, and probably in constitution, died at the age of 42; it was supposed from a premature decay.
The history of the reign of Louis the Fourteenth and those which follow to the present day are so well known to the English, that whatever I might state respecting them would only be to my readers a repetition of that of which they are already informed, as the continual wars for the last two centuries between England and France have brought the nations in constant contact; but prior to that period, even the most prominent events of the French history are but little known to the English, and in order to enhance the enjoyment of examining the old buildings in Paris, I conceived it necessary to give a slight sketch of the monarchs under whom they were erected, with the dates as accurately as could be ascertained, but consider that it would be useless to do so as regards those edifices constructed since the reign of Louis XIII, as they can only afford pleasure as regards their utility or beauty; as if not two hundred years old, the age of their date ceases to excite interest, although I shall describe them in due course. I have often been surprised that in all schools, although they give the history of Rome, of Greece, and of course of England, yet of France, which is the country the nearest to us, we are suffered to remain ignorant as to its history. We have all heard of the battles of Cressy, Poitiers and Agincourt, and remember that they were gained by the Edwards and Henry the Fifth, but few persons know anything about who were the French kings under whom they were lost; the only instances where the history of the French is brought to our minds, is when any connexion by marriage has occurred between the families of the sovereigns of the two nations.
CHAPTER IV.
Paris as it is, being a general survey of the place itself, its attractions, its demerits, the inhabitants, their manners to strangers, towards each other, their customs, and occupations.
I know no better means of obtaining a first general view of Paris and its inmates, than by taking a walk upon the Boulevards, I therefore will invite the reader to imagine himself promenading with me, we will begin at the Madeleine, and occupy a short time in surveying that noble and majestic building; it greatly reminds me of the Temple of Theseus, at Athens; it is perhaps one of the most perfect monuments, as regards its exterior, in Europe, the statues and sculpture are fine as to their general effect, but the lofty handsome pillars lose much of their beauty from the joins of the stones being too conspicuous, and having become black, the fine broad mass is cut up, and gives one an idea of so many cheeses placed one upon another, or rather they resemble the joints of a caterpillar: the interior is certainly most gorgeous, and at first strikes the beholder as a most splendid display of rich magnificence; but a moment's reflection, and instantly he feels how inconsistent is all that gilded mass and profusion of ornament with the beautiful and chaste simplicity of the exterior. I never can conceive that all that glitter of gold is in good keeping with the calm repose and dignity which ought to reign throughout a church. The Madeleine was begun in the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, and was intended for different purposes as it slowly progressed through the different reigns which have since occurred. Louis Philippe at length decided upon completing it with the energy that had ever before been wanting. Several public monuments had been suffered to remain dormant during the two preceding reigns, or their operations were carried on with so sparing a hand, that whilst a few workmen were employed at one end of a building, weeds and moss began to grow on the other. This pigmy style of proceeding was well-satirised during the reign of Charles X in one of the papers, which announced in large letters, "the workmen at the Madeleine have been doubled! where there was one, there are now two!" But soon after the present King came to the throne, capital was found, and the industrious employed. Thus much for this splendid work of art; let us turn round and look about us: Ah! see, there are the works of nature, how gay and cheerful those flowers appear so tastefully arranged in Madame Adde's shop, whilst she herself looks as fresh and healthy as her plants which are blooming around her; yet with that robust and country air she is a Parisian, but, as she justly remarked to me, she was always brought up to work hard, and as her labours have been well rewarded, health and content have followed. She and her flowers have already been noticed in Mrs. Gore's Season in Paris, who used to pay her frequent visits, for who indeed would go anywhere else who had once dealt with her, for what more can one desire than civility, good nature, reasonable charges, and a constant variety of the choicest articles; I therefore can conscientiously recommend all my readers who come to Paris, and are amateurs of Flora, to call now and then on Madame Adde, No. 6, Place de la Madeleine.
Now having contemplated the beauties of art and of nature, let us observe some animated specimens of her works: what a moving mass is before us, 'tis a merry scene, the laughing children running after, and dodging each other, rolling on the ground with the plenitude of their mirth, the neat looking bonnes (nursery maids) still smiling while they chide, the jovial coachmen wrestling on their stands and playing like boys together, but all in good humour, and content seems to sit on every brow, and even the aged as they meet, greet each other with a smile. How infectious is cheerfulness, when I have the blue devils I always go and take a walk on the Boulevards; and what makes these people so happy? is the natural question; because they are content with a little, and pleased with a trifle; then they are a trifling people is the reply. What boots it I would ask? happiness is all that we desire, and I persist that those are the best philosophers who can obtain happiness with the least means. But how the green trees, the white stone houses, the gay looking shops, the broad road with the equipages rolling along all contribute to heighten the animation of the scene. We are now at the Rue de la Paix; it is certainly a noble street, and we will turn down it to look at the statue of Napoleon on the column in the Place Vendome; the pillar, which was cast from the cannon taken from the enemies of France, is decidedly a work of extraordinary merit and beauty, and requires a good deal of study to appreciate the exquisite workmanship displayed in its execution. But if it were not for the reminiscences associated with the character of Napoleon, who could ever admire his statue on the top of the column, in a costume so contrary to all that is graceful and dignified; a little cocked hat with its horrid stiff angles, a great coat with another angle sticking out, the tout ensemble presenting a deformity rather than an ornament: however there he stands on the pinnacle of what he and men in general would call the monument of his glory, a memento of blood, of tears of widows and orphans. Could the names of those ruined and heart broken beings be inscribed upon it, whose misery was wrought by his triumphs, it would indeed tell a tale of woe. The Place Vendome, in which the column stands, has a very noble appearance, being a fine specimen of the style of building of Louis the Fourteenth, in whose reign it was erected; and he too fed his ambition with wholesale flow of blood, and with treasure wreaked from the hard earned labour of his subjects, and the abridgments of their comforts, but both were ultimately destined to chew the bitter cud of mortification, and however bright the sun by which they rose to imaginary glory, they were doomed to set in a starless night. But let us turn from these lugubrious images of war, and regain the Boulevards and enjoy the pleasure of beholding a peaceful people. Do not let us fail to observe that beautiful mansion at the corner of the rue Lafitte; it is called the Cite Italienne, and can only be compared to a palace, the richness of the carve-work surpassing any thing of the description throughout the whole capital; although it has recently become so much the mode to adorn their houses with sculpture, yet none have arrived at the same degree of perfection displayed in the Maison d'or: carved out on the solid stone is a boar hunt, which is really executed with considerable talent; to give an accurate description of all its beauties would much exceed the space I could afford it in justice to other objects; it is very extensive, and is I believe three houses united in one. I have understood that the sum total expended upon it was 1,600,000 francs, or 64,000l. But that my readers may form some idea of the interior, I recommend them to enter the Ancien Cafe Hardy, which is established as a Restaurant within this beautiful building, and however interested my countrymen may feel in all that is intellectual, yet at the same time they possess that much of the sensual, as to have a very strong predilection for a good dinner, of the quality of which few are better judges; but with them it is not only as regards the excellence of the viands, but also they have their peculiar tastes as to how and where it is served; knowing so well their ideas in this respect, I can recommend them with confidence to Messieurs Verdier and Dauzier, convinced that all their different fancies will be gratified. If they wish to be exclusive, to enjoy their meal tete-a-tete with their friend, they will find an elegant little apartment suited to their wishes; if they be three or four or more persons, they will still find they can be accommodated in such a manner that they may always imagine themselves at home; in fact there are about twenty apartments of different sizes, which are decorated in the most handsome style, yet all varying with regard to the pattern of the furniture, and all uniting an appearance of comfort and elegance, the sofa, chairs, and curtains of each little cabinet being of the richest silk, and the other decorations are consistently luxurious. The view from the windows presents all that can be imagined that is amusing and animating, overlooking the most agreeable part of the Boulevards, being that which is designated the Boulevard Italien, and is the most fashionable resort in Paris. By the aid of a calorifere, the whole establishment is heated to an agreeable degree of warmth, but for those who like to see a cheering blaze there are chimneys which afford them the means of having that indulgence. If they prefer dining in the public saloon, for the sake of seeing the variety of visiters by which it is frequented, they will find a most splendid apartment brilliantly fitted up, being entirely of white and gold, where every thing that is useful will be found, but always so arranged as to be rendered ornamental; in the elegant chandeliers by which the apartment is adorned, oil on a purified principle is burned; no attention in short has been omitted which could tend towards rendering the establishment an attraction for the English. I happened to be there when an apartment was arranged for a wedding party, and nothing could exceed the taste and elegance with which the table was disposed, presenting a perfect picture, where splendour and luxury abounded, but yet where a certain degree of consistency was preserved. With regard to the superior quality of the different delicacies which are provided, and the culinary talent displayed in their preparation, even Vatel himself might be more than satisfied. I have visited all the most celebrated Restaurants in Paris, and should certainly say, that for the good quality of the articles of the table, for the comfortable arrangements of the apartments, and attentive civility of the attendants, there is not any that can surpass the Cafe Hardy, although many there are which are infinitely more expensive. Continuing our walk upon the Boulevards, it is worthy of remark how richly some of the new houses in and about the Rue Richelieu are sculptured, so as to present the appearance of a succession of palaces, we next arrive at the Boulevard Montmartre, where the influx of people is the greatest: we pass by the Passage des Panoramas but do not enter it just now, although it contains some of the handsomest shops in Paris, but it is too crowded, we prefer keeping our course on the Boulevards where we can look about us at our ease and contemplate the physiognomies of the varied groups before us; let us halt a while at the Theatre des Varietes and remark with what eagerness numbers stop to scan the programme of the entertainments for the evening, amongst them are all ages, all classes, the common soldier, porter, and servant girl, all possessing a high idea of their judgment in theatrical affairs; passing on a little further the Theatre du Gymnase arrests the observer's notice, where Bouffe has so long displayed his comic powers, which certainly in my recollection have never been surpassed, and I doubt if they ever have been equalled; there is ever a chasteness in his acting, from which he never departs, and keeps the audience in a roar of laughter without ever having recourse to grimace or buffoonery.
The stupendous Porte (gate) St Denis next strikes the eye, and has a most imposing effect; it was built by Louis XIV in commemoration of his victories, as I have before stated; the bas-reliefs with which it is adorned represent pyramids, and colossal allegorical figures of Holland and the Rhine, the capture of Maestricht, the passage of the Rhine at Tolhuys, which with two lions are its most conspicuous ornaments. Whilst the mind is still occupied in reflecting upon this noble monument, another awakens attention at a short distance from the last; it is the Porte St-Martin, Boulevard St-Martin, which has been represented as a copy of that of St-Severus at Rome; it owes its erection to the same founder and was raised for the same purpose, that of publishing to posterity the fame of his victories; he is allegorically represented as Hercules defeating the Germans, the taking of Limburg, Besancon, etc. I shall not attempt to enter into a minute detail of these objects, it would only tire me to do so, and perhaps fatigue my reader still more; I shall therefore content myself by stating that, taken as a whole, it has an extremely fine effect. A few paces farther is the Theatre of the Porte St-Martin, which was never a fashionable resort, but has often produced me much entertainment, particularly when the celebrated Mademoiselle George afforded it the benefits of her talents; proceeding a few hundred yards distance, the Theatre of the Ambigu-Comique presents itself as worthy of remark; although of a minor rank, I remember being much amused at the long trains of persons waiting, according to the custom in France, at the doors of this Theatre for admission when a popular piece was played, called Nostradamus; as two persons can only pay at once no more are suffered to enter at a time; hence they form in pairs behind each other until they extend sometimes, the length of a furlong; they remain very quiet occasionally for hours, the first comers standing close to the doors, and as others arrive they regularly take their station behind the last persons of the queue, as it is styled. I remember an Englishman coming up when the tail had attained rather an inconvenient length, and he did not relish placing himself at the end of it, and endeavoured to slip into one of the joints as it was much nearer the door; but a gendarme, perceiving his drift, very unceremoniously marched him to the end of the queue, as precedence is allotted to persons in proportion as they arrive earlier or later and the most perfect order is by that means preserved; how much better is such an arrangement than that which prevails in England at the entering of the theatres, where physical strength alone gives priority, and the bigger the brute the sooner he enters, whilst screams and murmurs attest the treading upon toes, squeezing of ribs, etc.
The fountain of St-Martin in front of the Ambigu-Comique is one of the most beautiful objects in Paris; a handsome font rises in the middle from which the water falls in sheets of silvery profusion, whilst around, lions disgorge liquid streams which all unite in the grand basin; this sight is most beautiful to behold by the light of the moon. We next enter the Boulevard du Temple, where there is such a number of theatres and coffee-houses all joining each other, that there is really some difficulty of ascertaining which is the one or the other. The Theatre de la Gaiete, the resort principally of the middle or lower classes, is one of the most conspicuous, as also the Cirque Olympique, or Franconi's Theatre, where the performances resemble those at Astley's. There is always an immense crowd on these Boulevards amusing themselves around a number of shows; or playing or looking at various games which are constantly going forward, singers, musicians, conjurors, merry andrews, fortune tellers, orators, dancers, tumblers, etc., are all exerting their powers, to gain a little coin from the easily pleased multitude; these boulevards have in fact the appearance of a perpetual fete or fair, but the curious ideas that appear to me to have entered the heads of these people in the nature of their performances, are such as I should imagine none would ever have thought of but the French; nor any lower orders but of that nation could have been found to appreciate such singular exhibitions. One of this description particularly excited my notice; a man came up with another man in his arms and popped him down just as if he was a block; he had no sooner deposited his burden than he began a long harangue upon the talents of the individual whom he had just deposited before us, in acting a machine or automaton, he then to prove his assertion gave him a knock on the back of the head, when it fell forward just as if it had belonged to a figure made with joints; he then gave it a chuck of the chin so violent that it sent the head back so as to lean on the coat collar; at last he put it in its proper position, he then operated upon the arms and legs of the image actor in the same manner, and so perfectly lifeless did he appear, that many new comers who had not heard the introductory speech of the showman, absolutely thought that it was on inanimate figure made to imitate a man that was before them, as the orator always designated his piece of still life his mecanique, which means machine; in order to afford every one the benefit of a close examination, he lifted up his automaton, then flumped him directly opposite and close to the persons who formed part of the circle and whom he judged were most likely to throw a sou, bidding us observe that even the eye never winked and that there was not the slightest breathing perceptible, and in justice I must say I never saw an actor better play his part, for watch him as closely as you would there never was the least symptom of life visible. I had often before seen images made to imitate men, but never had till then seen a man imitate an image: a few paces farther was a man acting a variety of parts with extraordinary humour, an old nurse out of place, then a young lover entreating his mistress to have pity on him, next a man in a violent passion, presently, an epicure eating bonbons on the verge of the grave; the inexhaustible force of lungs, the incessant supply of words and ideas that many of them appeared to possess, to me was quite a matter of wonderment. At a short distance is a fort with cannon, whilst persons take a cross-bow and shoot at it; if they can hit one of the guns it naturally goes off; for the privilege of having a shot, a sou is paid if he do not hit the cannon, but if he succeed in so doing, he receives a sou; the reader may suppose that a miss takes place at the rate of about seven times to a hit; and after several young countrymen had been trying in vain, and had lost a good many pence, they began to grumble and declare that it was next to impossible to hit the cannon more than once in a hundred times, upon which the proprietor himself took the cross-bow and at the same distance as the others stood, hit the cannon five times running with the most perfect apparent ease, which certainly silenced the grumblers, but convinced them of their own awkwardness. My attention was next attracted by a pretty little building surrounded by moss and trees, at the top of a large glass globe which contained water with several gold and silver fish swimming in it, while some canary birds, who were sometimes perching on the house, the moss, or the trees, ever and anon flew to the bottom of the globe and were seen fluttering about amongst the fish, then ascend to their little building without having wetted a feather; the effect is very pretty and the deception is pleasing, inasmuch as the birds require no torturing tuition to perform their little parts; the secret consists in one globe being placed in another considerably larger, the outer being filled with water in which are the fish, whilst the inner wherein the birds are seen is dry and empty. A fortress where canary birds are again the performers is a sight which is extremely curious, as a proof of what these little creatures are capable of executing under the management of a master, where I fear gentleness has not only been exercised; a number of little cannon are placed to which the birds apply a substance at the end of a little stick which causes them to go off, when some fall and pretend to die and the victors advance with their muskets, and strutting about give you to understand that the fort is taken and that they are conquerors.
To recapitulate all the curious manoeuvres which are constantly going forward on the Boulevards would swell a volume, we will therefore pass on to the more retired parts, where the fine vistas of high trees have been spared the havoc of the Three Days; these once extended throughout the whole course of the Boulevards, but so many trees were cut down to form barricades, that those beautiful arches formed by rows of lofty elms, which were merely trained on the inner side, the outer being suffered to grow in the wild luxuriance of nature, are only now to be met with "few and far between." Near the spot where formerly stood the much dreaded Bastille, now rises to the view the column erected to commemorate the Revolution of 1830; inclining to the right, the Boulevards then lead to the Seine. In many parts of these delightful promenades, double rows of chairs are placed, and persons of the highest respectability come from different quarters and sit for hours in them, amused with observing the happy moving scene around them; the seats on the Boulevard Italien are often occupied by persons of fashion, who arrive in their equipages, then take chairs for an hour or two, whilst their carriages wait for them; the charge for each chair is one sou, but every one takes two, one for the purpose of resting the feet, and generally takes ices which are served from Tortoni's, long celebrated for the supply of that cooling refreshment. It is by night that the Boulevards are seen to the greatest advantage, the innumerable lights blazing from the different theatres, the lamps placed before the coffee-houses, the brilliant shops, the trees, the equipages, the sound of music and singing, the houses, which resemble palaces, the gilded cafes all united has the air of a fairy scene to any one brought suddenly upon them.
Some of the handsomest shops and coffee-houses are to be found on the Boulevards, and dwellings where many of the most respectable persons reside. There is always an humble traffic going on from an immense number of stalls, in which various commodities are sold, and although the assortment consists of a hundred different descriptions of articles, yet all are at one price, consisting of everything that can well be imagined, from a comb to a pair of bellows, the vender singing out the price with stentorian lungs, perhaps twenty-five sous, more or less, and as there is a great deal of opposition with these itinerant merchants, they often try who can cry out the loudest, and succeed in raising a terrific din, which amuses the mob, who consider that all is life and spirit as long as there is noise and fun going forward; these Boulevards, therefore, are just such as suit the Parisian lower classes. Those on the south side of the Seine are an exact contrast, most of them being so deserted, that in viewing the long lines of tall arched elms, with scarcely an individual moving beneath them, one could imagine that they were a hundred miles from any capital; but there is something pleasing in retiring to these lone green shades, when fatigued with the bustle and rattling noises of the city. The only individuals usually to be met with in these quiet Boulevards are now and then a nursery-maid with a child, an old lady of the gone-by school, and her female servant of the same era, who jog on at a slow and solemn pace as they moan over the good old times that are passed, and sympathise in expressions of horror at the vices of the present day; a tall thin battered looking beau, whose youth was passed in the last century, meets the antiquated pair, mutual salutations take place, the gentleman doffs his hat, and with a graceful sort of turn and wave of the hand, at the same time bows his body full half way to the ground, which, although rather stiffened with age, still retains a shadow of the elegance of former times. Madame makes a very pretty reverence, somewhat ceremonious, according to the flippant ideas of the present day, entreats Monsieur would put on his hat, would be in despair if he should catch cold; he obeys, is enchanted to see her look so well, but desolated to hear she has a little cold, and after expressing the most fervent hopes for her getting better, he takes his leave, having too good a notion of propriety to join the lady in her walk lest a liaison between them might be suspected. How different this worn-out remnant of the days of Louis the Sixteenth from la jeune France of the present day, when the usual greeting between the young men would be a nod of the head, "Bon jour, ca va bien?" adieu, and away, which is tantamount to "How do, quite well, good bye," and off; with a lady the abruptness would be a little softened, but any politeness that gives much trouble is quite at a discount with such young men of the present day in France. A solitary workman, a sentinel, and an old soldier, if near the Hospital of the Invalids, are probably the only persons you will usually meet on the southern Boulevards, except now and then I have seen a ladies' boarding-school thread its course beneath the thick foliage, whose mistress perchance selects a retired spot for giving her pupils a little air and exercise, removed from the gaze of the city throng.
Whatever pleasing impressions these shady retreats may have made upon the mind, on re-entering Paris they are soon dissipated; if by the public streets, the variety of noises which assail the ear, and the confusion of so many people bustling along upon a little bit of pavement not two feet wide, gives you plenty of occupation both to make your way, and get out of the way; when, compelled to give place to some lady, you descend from the narrow flags into the road, and whilst you are manoeuvring to escape a cart you see coming towards you, "Gare" is bawled out with stunning roar; you look round and find the pole of a coach within an inch of your shoulder, you scramble out of the way as fast as you can through mud and puddle, and are glad to clap your back against a house to make room for some lumbering vehicle, where the naves of the wheels stick out with menacing effect, happy to congratulate yourself that there is just room enough for it to pass without jamming you quite flat, and that you are quit of the danger at the expense of being smeared with a little mud from the wheel; this is the case in many of the streets in that part of Paris called the Cite, and others which cross from the Rue Saint-Denis to the Rue Saint-Martin and du Temple etc. Happily for my readers, it is not very probable that many of them will ever be called into those neighbourhoods, or if they be, it will probably be in a carriage, when they will not stand near the same chance of being crushed to death; but as I explore all parts and am thereby the better enabled to give a faithful picture of Paris, I consider it incumbent on me to inform my country people that there are such streets that they may better know how to enjoy Paris by keeping out of the way of them. To see Paris to the best advantage it is requisite to get up early, that is about three o'clock in the morning in the months of June or July, before any one is stirring; this indeed is pretty much the case with all cities, but particularly the French capital, because the streets being very narrow and crowded, you have not room to look up and look about. Paris in the old quarters at that hour, or in a bright moonlight when all are at rest, has the effect of a city composed of chateaux or castles joined together, the height of the houses, the great heavy porte cocheres, the castellated style of the attic windows and often projecting turrets, with the profusion of iron work, combine in giving a degree of gloom that appears to tell a tale of olden time, and many of the houses date as far back as Charles the Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh, which is coeval with our Henry the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth. There is one house of which the ancient staircase still remaining is as old as the year 1220; it is situated in the Rue du Four, near the Rue de la Harpe, and called the Maison Blanche, having been inhabited by the mother of Saint-Louis, but there is no doubt that the only part now standing that could have been built at that period is the staircase; in the same neighbourhood are many objects that would interest the antiquary, to which I shall hereafter allude. Paris is encircled by a double row of Boulevards, the north inner circle is that which is the most frequented; the outer circle runs all along the walls which encompass Paris, where the barriers are situated, of which there are fifty-six, all rather handsome buildings than otherwise, and no two of them quite alike. Many of the streets as you approach the farthest Boulevards of Paris have a very dull appearance, consisting in many instances of high walls and habitations separated from each other, with market gardens behind, but which cannot be seen from the street as they are all enclosed, and grass growing here and there in patches give them more the appearance of roads which have been abandoned than of inhabited streets. Some of the modern parts of Paris are extremely handsome and indeed all which has been built within the last five-and-twenty years. The Chaussee-d'Antin is the favourite quarter; there the streets are of a fair width and are well paved, and some very recently built are really beautiful, especially one just finished called the Rue Tronchet, just behind the Madeleine. The quarter round the Place Vendome is certainly one of the finest in Paris, and most decidedly the dearest. I know persons who pay fourteen thousand francs a year for unfurnished lodgings in the Place Vendome, that is 600l. a year; a whole house in a fashionable quarter of London may be had for the same money; indeed on the Boulevards, in some of the Passages and the most fashionable streets in Paris, shops let for more money than in any part of London; there is an instance of a single shop letting for 600l. per annum, and not one of particularly extensive dimensions, but situated on the Boulevard Montmartre, which is perhaps the best position in Paris. One of the greatest attractions is the Passages, something in the style of the Burlington Arcade but mostly superior; of these there are from twenty to thirty, so that in wet weather you may walk a considerable distance under cover. |
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