[In our vol. xii. we gave a few extracts from vol. i. of the _Memoirs of
Vidocq_, the principal agent of the French Police, until 1827; which
extracts we have reason to know were received with high _gout_ by most of
our readers. The second and third volumes of these extraordinary
adventures have just appeared, and contain higher-coloured depravities
than their predecessors. Some of them, indeed, might have been spared;
but as a graphic illustration of the petty thievery of Paris, the
following extract bears great merit:--]
I do not think that amongst the readers of these Memoirs one will be
found who, even by chance, has set foot at Guillotin's.
"Eh! what?" some one will exclaim, "Guillotin!"
Ce savant médecin
Que l'amour du prochain
Fit mourir de chagrin.
"You are mistaken; we all know the celebrated doctor, who ----;" but the
Guillotin of whom I am speaking is an unsophisticated adulterer of wines,
whose establishment, well known to the most degraded classes of robbers,
is situate opposite to the Cloaque Desnoyers, which the raff of the
Barriere call the drawing-room of la Courtille. A workman may be honest
to a certain extent, and venture in, _en passant_, to papa Desnoyers's.
If he be _awake_, and keep his eye on the company, although a row should
commence, he may, by the aid of the gendarmes, escape with only a few
blows, and pay no one's scot but his own. At Guillotin's he will not come
off so well, particularly if his _toggery_ be over spruce, and his
_pouch_ has _chink_ in it.
Picture to yourself, reader, a square room of considerable magnitude, the
walls of which, once white, have been blackened by every species of
exhalation. Such is, in all its simple modesty, the aspect of a temple
consecrated to the worship of Bacchus and Terpsichore. At first, by a
very natural optical illusion, we are struck by the confined space before
us, but the eye, after a time, piercing through the thick atmosphere of a
thousand vapours which are most inodorous, the extent becomes visible by
details which escape in the first chaotic glimpse. It is the moment of
creation, all is bright, the fog disappears, becomes peopled, is animated,
forms appear, they move, they are agitated, they are no illusory shadows;
but, on the contrary, essentially material, which cross and recross at
every moment. What beatitudes! what joyous life! Never, even for the
Epicureans, were so many felicities assembled together. Those who like to
wallow in filth, can find it here to their heart's content; many seated
at tables, on which, without ever being wiped away, are renewed a hundred
times a day the most disgusting libations, close in a square space
reserved for what they call the dancers. At the further end of this
infected cave there is, supported by four worm-eaten pillars, a sort of
alcove, constructed from broken-up ship timber, which is graced by the
appearance of two or three rags of old tapestry. It is on this chicken
coop that the music is perched: two clarinets, a hurdy-gurdy, a cracked
trumpet, and a grumbling bassoon--five instruments whose harmonious
movements are regulated by the crutch of Monsieur Double-Croche, a lame
dwarf, who is called the leader of the orchestra. Here all is in
harmony--the faces, costumes, the food that is prepared; a general
appearance is scouted. There is no closet in which walking-sticks,
umbrellas, and cloaks are deposited; the women have their hair all in
confusion like a poodle dog, and the kerchief perched on the top of the
head, or in a knot tied in front with the corners in a rosette, or if you
prefer it, a cockade, which threatens the eye in the same manner as those
of the country mules. As for the men, it is a waistcoat with a cap and
falling collar, if they have a shirt, which is the regulated costume;
breeches are not insisted on; the supreme bon ton would be an
artilleryman's cap, the frock of an hussar, the pantaloon of a lancer,
the boots of a guardsman, in fact the cast-off attire of three or four
regiments, or the wardrobe of a field of battle. The ladies adore the
cavalry, and have a decided taste for the dress of the whole army; but
nothing so much pleases them as mustachios, and a broad red cap adorned
with leather of the same colour.
In this assembly, a beaver hat, unless napless and brimless, would be
very rare; no one ever remembers to have seen a coat there, and should
any one dare to present himself in a great coat, unless _a family man_,
he would be sure to depart skirtless, or only in his waistcoat. In vain
would he ask pardon for those flaps which had offended the eyes of the
noble assembly; too happy would he be if, after having been bandied and
knocked about with the utmost unanimity as a greenhorn, only one skirt
should be left in the hands of these youthful beauties, who, in the
fervour of gaiety, rather roar out than sing.
Desnoyers's is the Cadran bleu de la Canaille, (the resort of the lower
orders;) but before stepping over the threshold of the cabaret of
Guillotin, even the canaille themselves look twice, as in this repository
are only to be seen prostitutes with their bullies, pick-pockets and
thieves of all classes, some _prigs_ of the lowest grade, and many of
those nocturnal marauders who divide their existence into two parts,
consecrating it to the duties of theft and riot. It may be supposed that
slang is the only language of this delightful society: it is generally in
French, but so perverted from its primitive signification, that there is
not a member of the distinguished "company of forty" who can flatter
himself with a full knowledge of it, and yet the "dons of Guillotin's"
have their purists; those who assert that slang took its rise in the East,
and without thinking for a moment of disputing their talent as
Orientalists, they take that title to themselves without any ceremony; as
also that of Argonauts, when they have completed their studies under the
direction of the galley sergeants, in working, in the port of Toulon, the
dormant navigation on board a vessel in dock. If notes were pleasing to
me, I could here seize the opportunity of making some very learned
remarks. I should, perhaps, go into a profound disquisition, but I am
about to paint the paradise of these bacchanalians; the colours are
prepared--let us finish the picture.
If they drink at Guillotin's they eat also, and the mysteries of the
kitchen of this place of delights are well worthy of being known. The
little father Guillotin has no butcher, but he has a purveyor; and in his
brass stewpans, the verdigris of which never poisons, the dead horse is
transformed into beef a-la-mode; the thighs of the dead dogs found in Rue
Guénegaud become legs of mutton from the salt-marshes; and the magic of a
piquant sauce gives to the _staggering bob_ (dead born veal) of the
cow-feeder the appetizing look of that of Pontoise. We are told that the
cheer in winter is excellent, when the rot prevails; and if ever (during
M. Delaveau's administration) bread were scarce in summer during the
"massacre of the innocents," mutton was to be had here at a very cheap
rate. In this country of metamorphoses the hare never had the right of
citizenship; it was compelled to yield to the rabbit, and the rabbit--how
happy the rats are!
* * * * *
Father Guillotin consumed generally more oil than cotton, but I can,
nevertheless, affirm, that, in my time, some banquets have been spread
at his cabaret, which, subtracting the liquids, could not have cost more
at the café Riche, or at Grignon's. I remember six individuals, named
Driancourt, Vilattes, Pitroux, and three others, who found means to
spend 166 francs there in one night. In fact, each of them had with him
his favourite _bella_. The citizen no doubt pretty well fleeced them,
but they did not complain, and that quarter of an hour which Rabelais
had so much difficulty in passing, caused them no trouble; they paid
like grandees, without forgetting the waiter. I apprehended them whilst
they were paying the bill, which they had not even taken the trouble of
examining. Thieves are generous when they are caught "i' the vein."
They had just committed many considerable robberies, which they are now
repenting in the bagnes of France.
It can scarcely be believed that in the centre of civilization, there can
exist a den so hideous as the cave of Guillotin; it must be seen, as I
have seen it, to be believed. Men and women all smoked as they danced,
the pipe passed from mouth to mouth, and the most refined gallantry that
could be offered to the nymphs who came to this rendezvous, to display
their graces in the postures and attitudes of the indecent Chahut, was,
to offer them the _pruneau_, that is, the quid of tobacco, submitted or
not, according to the degree of familiarity, to the test of a previous
mastication. The peace-officers and inspectors were characters too
greatly distinguished to appear amongst such an assemblage, they kept
themselves most scrupulously aloof, to avoid so repugnant a contact; I
myself was much disgusted with it, but at the same time was persuaded,
that to discover and apprehend malefactors it would not do to wait until
they should come and throw themselves into my arms; I therefore
determined to seek them out, and that my searches might not be fruitless,
I endeavoured to find out their haunts, and then, like a fisherman who
has found a preserve, I cast my line out with a certainty of a bite. I
did not lose my time in searching for a needle in a bottle of hay, as
the saying is; when we lack water, it is useless to go to the source of a
dried-up stream and wait for a shower of rain; but to quit all metaphor,
and speak plainly--the spy who really means to ferret out the robbers,
ought, as much as possible, to dwell amongst them, that he may grasp at
every opportunity which presents itself of drawing down upon their heads
the sentence of the laws. Upon this principle I acted, and this caused my
recruits to say that I made men robbers; I certainly have, in this way,
made a vast many, particularly on my first connexion with the police.
* * * * *