THE BASTILLE, PERE LACHAISE AND THE END
A Thoughtful Municipality--The Fall of the Bastille--Revolt
and Revolution--The Column of July--A Paris
Canal--Deliberate Building--The Buttes-Chaumont--A City of
the Dead--Pere la Chaise--Bartholome's Monument--The
Cimetiere de Mont Parnasse--The Country round Paris--What we
have Missed--Conclusion.
The Place des Vosges is close to the Place de la Bastille, which lies
to the east of it along the Rue St. Antoine. The prison has gone for
ever, but one is assisted by a thoughtful municipality to reconstruct
it, a task of no difficulty at all if one remembers with any vividness
the models in the Carnavalet or the Archives, or buys a pictorial
postcard at any neighbouring shop. The contribution of the pious city
fathers is a map on the facade of No. 36 Place de la Bastille, and a
permanent outline of the walls of the dreadful building inlaid in the
road and pavement, which one may follow step by step to the
satisfaction of one's imagination and the derangement of the traffic
until it disappears into cafes and shops. One has to remember,
however, that the surface of the ground was much lower, the prison
being surrounded by a moat and gained only by bridges. For the actual
stones one must go to the Pont de la Concorde, the upper part of which
was built of them in 1790.
The Bastille's end came in 1789, at the beginning of the Revolution,
on the day after the National Guard was established, when the people
of Paris rose under Camille Desmoulins and captured it, thus not only
displaying but discovering their strength. Carlyle was never more
scornful, never more cruelly vivid, than in his description of this
event. I must quote a little, it is so horribly splendid: "To describe
this Siege of the Bastille (thought to be one of the most important in
History) perhaps transcends the talent of mortals. Could one but,
after infinite reading, get to understand so much as the plan of the
building! But there is open Esplanade, at the end of the Rue
Saint-Antoine; there are such Forecourts, _Cour Avancee, Cour de
l'Orme_, arched Gateway (where Louis Tournay now fights); then new
drawbridges, dormant-bridges, rampart-bastions, and the grim Eight
Towers: a labyrinthic Mass, high-frowning there, of all ages from
twenty years to four hundred and twenty;--beleaguered, in this its
last hour, as we said, by mere Chaos come again! Ordnance of all
calibres; throats of all capacities; men of all plans, every man his
own engineer: seldom since the war of Pygmies and Cranes was there
seen so anomalous a thing. Half-pay Elie is home for a suit of
regimentals; no one would heed him in coloured clothes: half-pay Hulin
is haranguing Gardes Francaises in the Place de Greve. Frantic
Patriots pick up the grapeshots; bear them, still hot (or seemingly
so), to the Hotel-de-Ville:--Paris, you perceive, is to be burnt!
Flesselles is 'pale to the very lips'; for the roar of the multitude
grows deep. Paris wholly has got to the acme of its frenzy; whirled,
all ways, by panic madness. At every street-barricade, there whirls
simmering a minor whirlpool,--strengthening the barricade, since God
knows what is coming; and all minor whirlpools play distractedly into
that grand Fire-Maelstrom which is lashing round the Bastille.
"And so it lashes and it roars. Cholat the wine-merchant has become an
impromptu cannoneer. See Georget, of the Marine Service, fresh from
Brest, ply the King of Siam's cannon. Singular (if we were not used to
the like): Georget lay, last night, taking his ease at his inn; the
King of Siam's cannon also lay, knowing nothing of _him_, for a
hundred years. Yet now, at the right instant, they have got together,
and discourse eloquent music. For, hearing what was toward, Georget
sprang from the Brest Diligence, and ran. Gardes Francaises also will
be here, with real artillery: were not the walls so thick!--Upwards
from the Esplanade, horizontally from all neighbouring roofs and
windows, flashes one irregular deluge of musketry, without effect. The
Invalides lie flat, firing comparatively at their ease from behind
stone; hardly through portholes show the tip of a nose. We fall, shot;
and make no impression!
[Illustration: LA BERGERE GARDANT SES MOUTONS
MILLET
(_Louvre, Chauchard Collection_)]
"Let conflagration rage; of whatsoever is combustible! Guard-rooms are
burnt, Invalides mess-rooms. A distracted 'Perukemaker with two fiery
torches' is for burning 'the saltpetres of the Arsenal';--had not a
woman run screaming; had not a Patriot, with some tincture of Natural
Philosophy, instantly struck the wind out of him (butt of musket on
pit of stomach), overturned barrels, and stayed the devouring element.
A young beautiful lady, seized escaping in these Outer Courts, and
thought falsely to be De Launay's daughter, shall be burnt in De
Launay's sight; she lies swooned on a paillasse: but again a Patriot,
it is brave Aubin Bonnemere the old soldier, dashes in, and rescues
her. Straw is burnt; three cartloads of it, hauled thither, go up in
white smoke: almost to the choking of Patriotism itself; so that Elie
had, with singed brows, to drag back one cart; and Reole the 'gigantic
haberdasher' another. Smoke as of Tophet; confusion as of Babel; noise
as of the Crack of Doom!
"Blood flows; the aliment of new madness. The wounded are carried into
houses of the Rue Cerisaie; the dying leave their last mandate not to
yield till the accursed Stronghold fall. And yet, alas, how fall? The
walls are so thick! Deputations, three in number, arrive from the
Hotel-de-Ville; Abbe Fauchet (who was of one) can say, with what
almost superhuman courage of benevolence. These wave their Town-flag
in the arched Gateway; and stand, rolling their drum; but to no
purpose. In such Crack of Doom De Launay cannot hear them, dare not
believe them: they return, with justified rage, the whew of lead still
singing in their ears. What to do? The Firemen are here, squirting
with their fire-pumps on the Invalides cannon, to wet the touchholes;
they unfortunately cannot squirt so high; but produce only clouds of
spray. Individuals of classical knowledge propose _catapults_.
Santerre, the sonorous Brewer of the Suburb Saint-Antoine, advises
rather that the place be fired, by a 'mixture of phosphorus and
of oil-of-turpentine spouted up through forcing-pumps': O
Spinola-Santerre, hast thou the mixture _ready_? Every man his own
engineer! And still the fire-deluge abates not: even women are firing,
and Turks; at least one woman (with her sweetheart), and one Turk.
Gardes Francaises have come: real cannon, real cannoneers. Usher
Maillard is busy; half-pay Elie, half-pay Hulin rage in the midst of
thousands.
"How the great Bastille Clock ticks (inaudible) in its Inner Court
there, at its ease, hour after hour; as if nothing special, for it or
the world, were passing! It tolled One when the firing began; and is
now pointing towards Five, and still the firing slakes not.--Far down,
in their vaults, the seven Prisoners hear muffled din as of
earthquakes; their Turnkeys answer vaguely.
"Wo to thee, De Launay, with thy poor hundred Invalides! Broglie is
distant, and his ears heavy: Besenval hears, but can send no help. One
poor troop of Hussars has crept, reconnoitering, cautiously along the
Quais, as far as the Pont Neuf. 'We are come to join you,' said the
Captain; for the crowd seem shoreless. A large-headed dwarfish
individual, of smoke-bleared aspect, shambles forward, opening his
blue lips, for there is sense in him; and croaks: 'Alight then, and
give up your arms!' The Hussar-Captain is too happy to be escorted to
the Barriers, and dismissed on parole. Who the squat individual was?
Men answer, It is M. Marat, author of the excellent pacific _Avis au
Peuple_! Great truly, O thou remarkable Dogleech, is this thy day of
emergence and new-birth: and yet this same day come four years--!--But
let the curtains of the Future hang."
After some hours the deed is done and Paris re-echoes to the cries "La
Bastille est prise!" "In the Court, all is mystery, not without
whisperings of terror; though ye dream of lemonade and epaulettes, ye
foolish women! His Majesty, kept in happy ignorance, perhaps dreams of
double-barrels and the Woods of Meudon. Late at night, the Duke de
Liancourt, having official right of entrance, gains access to the
Royal Apartments; unfolds, with earnest clearness, in his
constitutional way, the Job's-news. '_Mais_,' said poor Louis, '_c'est
une revolte_, Why, that is a revolt!'--'Sire,' answered Liancourt, 'it
is not a revolt,--it is a revolution.'"
That was July 14th, 1789; but it is not the July that the Colonne de
Juillet in the centre of the Place celebrates. That July was forty-one
years later, not so late but that many Parisians could remember both
events. July 27th to 29th, 1830, the Second Revolution, which
overturned the Bourbons and set Louis-Philippe of Orleans in the siege
perilleux of France. Louis-Philippe himself erected this monument in
memory of the six hundred and fifteen citizens who fell in his
interests and who are buried beneath. Their names are cut in the
bronze of the column, on the summit of which is the beautiful winged
figure of Liberty.
Beneath the vault of the Colonne, and immediately beneath the Colonne
itself, runs the great canal which brings merchandise into Paris from
the east, entering the Seine between the Pont Sully and the Pont
d'Austerlitz. At this point it is not very interesting, but from the
Avenue de la Republique, where it re-emerges again into the light of
day, and thence right away to the Abattoirs de Villette, it is very
amusing to stroll by. The Paris _Daily Mail_, which in its eager
paternal way has taken English and American visitors completely under
its wing, is diurnally anxious that its readers should make a tour of
these abattoirs. But not I. That a holiday in Paris should include the
examination of a slaughter-house strikes me as a joyless proposition,
putting thoroughness far before pleasure. But the _Daily Mail_ is like
that; it also does its best on the second and fourth Wednesdays in
every month to get its compatriots down the Paris sewers. And I
suppose they go. Strange heart of the tourist! We never think of
penetrating either to the sewers or the slaughter-houses of our native
land; we have no theories of sewers, no data for comparison; we love
the upper air and the sun. But being in a foreign city we cheerfully
give the second or fourth Wednesday to such delights.
Having taken the _Daily Mail's_ advice and visited the abattoirs
(which I have not done), one cannot do better than return to Paris by
way of the canal, sauntering beside it all the way to the Rue Faubourg
du Temple, where one passes into the Place de la Republique and the
stir of the city once more. The canal descends from the heights of La
Villette in a series of long steps, as it were (or, to take the most
dissonant simile possible to devise, like the lakes at Wootton), built
up by locks. Idling by this canal one sees many agreeable phases of
human toil. Many commodities and materials reach Paris by barge, and
it is on these quais and in the Villette basin that the unloading is
done; while the barges themselves are pleasant spectacles--so long and
clean and broad--very Mauretanias beside the barges of Holland--with
spacious deck-houses that are often perfect villas, the wife and
children watering the flowers at the door.
One quai is given up wholly to lime. This arrives in thousands of
little solid sacks which stevedores whiter than millers transfer to
the carts, that, in their turn, creak off to disorganise the traffic
of a hundred streets and provoke the contempt of a thousand drivers
before they reach their destined building, on which the workmen have
already been engaged for two years and will be engaged for two years
more. There is no hurry in constructional work in Paris--except of
course on Exhibitions, which spring up in a night. The same piece of
road that was up in the Rue Lafayette for some surface trouble in a
recent April, I found still up in October. But they have the grace,
when rebuilding a house in the city, to hide their deliberate
processes behind a wooden screen--such a screen as was opposite the
Cafe de la Paix, at the south-east corner of the Boulevard des
Capucines, for, it seems to me, years.
If, however, one is walking beside the canal in the other direction,
up the hill instead of down, one will soon be nearer the Victoria Park
of Paris, the park of the east end, than at any other time, and this
should be visited as surely as the abattoirs should be avoided:
unless, of course, one is a well-informed or thoughtful butcher. We
have seen the Parc Monceau; well, the antithesis of the Parc Monceau,
which has no counter-part in London, is the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont.
Both are children's paradises, the only difference in the children
being social position. The Parc des Buttes-Chaumont is sixty acres of
trees and walks and perpendicular rocks and water, the special charm
of which is its diversified character, rising in the midst to an
immense height made easy for carriages and perambulators by a winding
road. It has a deep gorge crossed by a suspension bridge, a lake for
boats, a cascade, and thousands of chairs side by side, touching,
lining the roads, on which the maids and matrons of La Villette and
Belleville sew and gossip, while the children play around. The parc
was made in the sixties: before then it had been a waste ground and
gypsum quarry--hence its attractive irregularities. How wonderful the
heights and cathedral of Montmartre can appear from one of the peaks
of the Buttes-Chaumont, Mr. Dexter's drawing shows.
The Buttes-Chaumont is the most easterly point we have yet reached;
but there is another parc more easterly still awaiting us, not unlike
the Buttes-Chaumont in its acclivities, but unlike it in this
particular, that it is a parc not of the living but the dead. I mean
Pere Lachaise. Pere Lachaise! What kind of an old man do you think
gave his name to this cemetery? Most persons, I imagine, see him as
white-haired and venerable: not twinkling, like Papa Gontier, but
serene and noble and sad. As a matter of fact he was a pere only by
profession and courtesy. Pere Lachaise was Louis XIV.'s fashionable
confessor (Landor has a diverting imaginary conversation between these
two), and the cemetery took its name from his house, which chanced to
occupy the site of the present chapel. The ground was enclosed as a
burial ground as recently as 1804, which means of course that the
famous tomb of Abelard and Heloise, to which all travellers find their
way, is a modern reconstruction. The remains of La Fontaine and
Moliere and other illustrious men who died before 1804 were
transferred here, just as Zola's were recently transferred from the
cemetery of Montmartre to the Pantheon, but with less excitement.
Pere Lachaise cannot be taken lightly. The French live very
thoroughly, but when they die they die thoroughly too, and their
cemeteries confess the scythe. There may be, to our thinking, too much
architecture; but it is serious. There is no mountebanking (as at
Genoa), nor is there any whining, as in some of our own churchyards.
Death to a Frenchman is a fact and a mystery, to be faced when the
time comes, if not before, and to be honoured. On certain festivals of
the year there are a thousand mourners to every acre of Pere Lachaise.
The natural entrance is by the Rue de la Roquette, but it is less
fatiguing to enter at the top, at the new gate in the Avenue du Pere
Lachaise, and walk downhill; for the paths are steep and the cemetery
covers a hundred acres and more. The objection to this course is that
one loses some of the sublimity of Bartholome's _Monument aux Morts_
at the foot of the mountain on which the chapel stands. This monument
faces the principal entrance with the careful design of impressing the
visitor, and its impact can be tremendous. We approach it by the
Avenue Principale, in which lies Alfred de Musset, with the willow
waving over his tomb and his own lines upon it.
And then one enters seriously upon this strange pilgrimage among names
and memories. Chopin lies here, his music stilled, and Talma the
tragedian; Beaumarchais and Marechal Ney; Cherubini and Alphonse
Daudet; Balzac, his pen for ever idle, and Delacroix; Beranger, who
made the nation's ballads, and Brillat-Savarin, all his dinners eaten;
Michelet, the historian, and Planquette, the composer of _Les Cloches
de Corneville_; Daumier, the great artist who saw to the heart of
things, and Corot, who befriended Daumier's last years; Daubigny and
Rosa Bonheur, Thiers and Scribe; Rachel, once so very living, and many
Rothschilds now poorer than I.
[Illustration: LE MONUMENT AUX MORTS
A. BARTHOLOME
(_Pere la Chaise_)]
Paris has other cemeteries, as we know, for we have walked through
that of Montmartre; but there is also the Cimetiere de Montparnasse,
where lie Sainte-Beuve and Leconte de Lisle, Theodore de Banville,
master of _vers de societe_, and Fantin-Latour, Baudelaire (lying
beneath a figure of the Genius of Evil), and Barbey d'Aurevilly, the
dandy-novelist. There are also the cemeteries of Passy and Picpus, but
into these I have never wandered. Lafayette lies at Picpus, which is
behind a convent in the Rue de Picpus, and costs fifty centimes to
see, and there also were buried many victims of the guillotine besides
those whose bodies were flung into the earth behind the Madeleine.
* * * * *
All the space at my disposal has been required by Paris itself; and
such is the human interest that at any rate in the older parts clings
to every stone and saturates the soil, that I do not know that I
have had any temptation to rove beyond the fortifications. But that
of course is not right. No one really knows the Parisians until he
sees them in happy summer mood in one of the pleasure resorts on the
Seine, or winning money at Enghien, or lunching in one of the
tree-top restaurants at Robinson. We have indeed been curiously
unenterprising, and it is all owing to the fascination of Paris
herself and the narrow dimensions of this book. We have not even been
to St. Denis, to stand among the ashes of the French kings; we have
not descended the formal slopes of St. Cloud; we have not peeped into
Corot's little chapel at Ville d'Avray; we have not seen the home of
Sevres porcelain; we have not scaled Mont-Valerien; we have not taken
boat for Marly-le-Roi; we have not wandered marvelling but weary amid
the battle scenes of Versailles, or smiled at the pretty fopperies of
the hamlet of the Petit Trianon. We have not known the groves either
of the Bois de Vincennes or the Bois de Meudon.
Much less have we fed those guzzling gourmands, the carp of Chantilly,
or lost ourselves before the little Raphael there, or the curious
Leonardo sketch for La Joconde, or the sweet simplicities of the
pretty Jean Fouquet illuminations, particularly the domestic
solicitude of the ladies attending upon the birth of John the Baptist;
less still have we forgotten the restlessness and urgency of Paris
amid the allees and rochers of the Forest of Fontainebleau, and the
still white streets of Barbizon, or even on the steps of the chateau
where the Great Emperor, thoughts of whom are never very distant--are
indeed too near--bade farewell to his Old Guard in 1814.
Greater Paris, it will be gathered, is hardly less interesting than
Paris herself; and indeed how pleasant it would be to write about it!
But not here.
Of Paris within the fortifications have I, I wonder, conveyed any of
the fascination, the variety, the colour, the self-containment. I hope
so. I hope too that at any rate these pages have implanted in a few
readers the desire to see this beautiful and efficient city for
themselves, and even more should I value the knowledge that they had
excited in others who are not strangers to Paris the wish to be there
again. To do justice to such a city, with such a history, is of course
an impossibility. What, however, should not be impossible is to create
a gout.
INDEX
ABATTOIRS, the, 312.
Abbaye-aux-Bois, 160.
Abelard, 315.
Advocates and barristers, 24.
Alvantes, Duchesse d', 45.
Angelo, Michael, 102.
Anne of Austria, 297.
Antoinette, Marie, 20, 21, 71, 215, 216.
Apollon, Galerie d', 248.
Arbre-Sec, Rue de l', 288.
Arc de Triomphe, 114, 142-45, 302.
Archives, the, 64, 65.
Arenes, the, 187.
Aristocratic homes, 62, 145, 158.
Arnold, Matthew, quoted, 267-69.
Artagnan, D', 288.
Arts et Metiers, Musee de, 258.
Astruc, 178.
Attila the Hun, 190.
Aurevilly, B. d', 317.
Austerlitz, 214.
Ave-Maria, Rue de l', 297.
BAEDEKER, 215, 261, 301.
"Bagatelle," 146.
Bal Bullier, 179.
Balloons, 51.
Balzac, 159, 178, 194, 260, 304, 316.
Banville, T. de, 178, 317.
Barbizon School, 100, 103-6.
Bard, Wilkie, 235.
Barristers and advocates, 24.
Barry, the St. Bernard dog, 208.
Bartholome, 316.
Bartholomew, St., Massacre of, 23, 286.
Barye, the sculptor, 60, 245.
Bassano, 89.
Bastien-Lepage, 177.
Bastille, the, 72, 306-12.
Baudelaire, Charles, 56, 104, 317.
Beauharnais, Josephine, 45, 158, 174.
Beaumarchais, 316.
Beaumaris, Madame de, 297.
Beaux-Arts, Palais des, 150.
Beggars in Paris, 263.
Bellini, 91.
Benefices, 231, 232.
Beranger, 258.
Bergere, Cite, 250.
Berlioz, 178, 225, 269.
Bernard, Saint, 52.
Bernhardt, 251.
_Besieged Resident, the_, 210-13.
Besnard, 302.
Bibliotheque de Mazarin, 166.
---- Nationale, 247.
Bievre, the river, 186, 187.
Bigio, 88.
Billiards in Paris, 220-22.
Birague, Rue de, 299.
Birds, the charmer of, 127-30.
Birrell, Mr. Augustine, 15.
Blanche, 177.
---- Rue, 260.
Bodley, Mr., 200.
Boilly, 71.
Bois de Boulogne, the, 145-49.
Bol, 93.
Bone, Mr. Muirhead, 24, 67.
Bonheur, Rosa, 317.
Bonington, 92, 98, 102.
Bonnat, 303.
Bons Enfants, Rue des, 286.
Bookhunters, 17, 18.
Bookstalls in Paris and London, 14-18.
Borssom, 98.
Botticelli, 79, 80, 89.
Bottin, 154.
Boucher, 70, 99.
Bouland, 176.
Boulevardiers, 219, 239.
Boulevards, Grands, 218, 219.
Bourse, the, 248, 249.
Boverie, 285.
Brillat-Savarin, 316.
Brisemiche, Rue, 75.
Browning, 304.
Bruant, Aristide, 271, 303.
Building in Paris, 313.
Buridan, 180.
Buttes-Chaumont, Parc, 264, 314.
CABARETS artistiques, 270, 271.
Cabman, the singing, 2.
Cabmen in Paris, 240-42.
Cafe de la Paix, 227-43.
Cafes, 227, 228.
---- night, 273-75.
Cain, M. Georges, 160, 200.
Canals, 313.
Capel Court, 249.
Capucines, Boulevard des, 220-24, 273.
Caran d'Ache, 271.
Carlyle, 178.
---- quoted, 37-41, 116-21, 134-37, 138-40, 279-81, 284, 285,
307-11.
Carnavalet, Musee, 61, 69-74.
Caro-Delvalle, 177.
Carolus-Duran, 176, 178.
Carpeaux, 110, 225.
Carriere, 105, 176, 177, 302.
Carries, 151.
Carrousel, Arc de, 117-21.
Cartoons in the street, 249.
Cartouche, 294.
Caxton, William, quoted, 57, 59, 189-91, 253-55, 289.
Cazin, 152, 175, 176.
Cemeteries in Paris, 315-17.
Cerrito, 226.
Cerutti, 245.
Champions of France, 221.
Champs-Elysees, 141, 142.
Chanoinesse, Rue, 52.
Chantilly, 318.
Chardin, 70, 95, 99.
Charlemagne, Passage, 298.
Charles X., 300.
Charmer of birds, the, 127-30.
Chateaubriand, 159, 160.
Chauchard Collection, 106.
Chaudet, 110.
Chauffeurs in Paris, 242, 243.
Chaussee d'Antin, Rue de la, 245.
Chavannes, Puvis de, 152, 181, 190, 193, 295.
Cherubini, 226.
Chifflart, 302.
Childeric, 190.
Chopin, 143, 178, 245, 251, 316.
Christianity in Paris, 190.
Church music, 289.
Churches--
Blancs-Manteaux, 67.
Madeleine, 188.
Pantheon, 188-96.
Petits Peres, 249.
Sacre-Coeur, 262.
St. Elizabeth of Hungary, 64.
---- Etienne-du-Mont, 193, 196-98.
---- Eugene, 251.
---- Eustache, 40, 289.
---- Germain du Pre, 163.
---- ---- l'Auxerrois, 286-88.
---- Jacques-la-Boucherie, 293.
---- Joseph de Carmes, 178.
---- Julien le Pauvre, 185.
---- Merry, 76.
---- Nicholas-des-Champs, 77.
---- Paul and St. Louis, 298.
---- Roch, 278-81, 283.
---- Severin, 185.
---- Sorbonne, 181.
---- Sulpice, 163.
"Ciel," 270.
Cigars in Paris, 223.
Cimetieres in Paris, 264, 266-70.
---- du Nord, 266-70.
Claque, the, 233.
Clarac collection, 110.
Claude, 91, 98.
Clichy, Boulevard, 270.
Clocks in Paris, 22.
Clotilde, 190.
Clouet, 97.
Clovis, 190.
Cluny, Musee de, 181-84.
Coligny, 286.
Colonna, Vittoria, 89.
Colonne de Juillet, 311, 312.
Commune, the, 27, 115, 124, 217, 258, 264, 278, 285.
Compas d'Or, the, 5, 6.
Comte, 181.
Concierge, the, 230.
Conciergerie, the, 19-23.
Concorde, the Place de La, 132-40.
---- Pont de la, 307.
Conservatoire, the, 251.
Constable, 92.
Coquelin, 251, 259.
Corday, Charlotte, 216.
Corot, 99, 103, 105, 178, 317.
Correggio, 88, 91, 95.
Cosimo, Piero di, 90.
Cour du Dragon, 161.
Coustou, 110.
Couture, 105.
Coyzevox, 110.
Curiosity shops, 159.
_DAILY MAIL_ in Paris, 312.
Dalou, 151, 175, 259.
Dammouse, 176.
Dancing halls, 272.
Dante, 185, 187.
Daubigny, 105, 317.
Daudet, Alphonse, 142, 316.
Daumier, 152, 302, 317.
David, 99, 101, 194, 195.
---- Madame, 152.
---- G., 95.
Da Vinci, Leonardo, 81-87, 318.
Death and the French, 95, 315.
Decamps, 103, 105.
Degas, 175.
Delacroix, 100, 104, 106, 178, 298, 316.
Delair, Frederic, 199-201.
Delaroche, 164.
Delibes, 226, 269.
De Musset, 56, 282, 316.
De Neuville, 177, 270.
Denis, Saint, 253.
Desmoulins, Camille, 171, 284, 285.
Devils of Notre Dame, 51, 52.
Dexter, Mr., as a tipster, 148.
---- ---- his conception of Paris, 24.
Diaz, 105.
Dickens, Charles, 304.
Diderot and the pretty bookseller, 17.
Dobson, Mr. Austin, 15, 178, 184.
Dogs in Paris, 207-9.
---- cemetery, the, 208, 209.
Donizetti, 226.
Dore, 303.
Dou, 93.
Drouot, Rue, 246, 247.
Dubois, 175, 193.
Duel, a famous, 300.
Dufayel, Maison, 264-66.
Dumas, Alexandre, 62, 93, 178, 300, 303, 304, 305.
---- ---- fils, 24, 104.
Duncan, Isidora, 153.
Dupre, 106.
Duerer, 95.
Dutch School, the, 94, 95, 153.
Dutuit collection, 150, 153.
ECONOMY in Paris, 291, 292.
Eiffel Tower, the, 50.
Elizabeth, Madame, 216.
Elocutionist, the, 203.
Elysee, the, 276.
---- de Montmartre, 272.
"Enfer," 270.
Enghien, 318.
English and French, 141, 227-40.
Estrees, Duchesse d', 158.
Etoile, Place de l', 142-45.
Eustache, Saint, 290.
Execution of Louis XVI., 134-37.
---- ---- Robespierre, 138-40.
Eyck, J. van, 95.
FABRIANO, 96.
Fairs in Paris, 147, 153.
Falguiere, 161.
Fallieres, President, 252.
Fantin-Latour, 104, 176, 302, 317.
Faubourg Saint-Honore, Rue du, 276.
---- Poissoniere, Rue du, 252.
Ferronnerie, Rue de la, 293.
Fete de St. Genevieve, 197.
Figuier, Rue, 297.
FitzGerald, Edward, quoted, 73, 282.
Flandrin, 163, 176.
Flinck, 93.
Flower markets, 218.
Fontainebleau, 318.
Fouquet, Jean, 318.
Fragonard, 99.
Francois I., 86, 87, 89, 248.
Francois-Miron, Rue, 297.
Francoise-Marguerite, 262.
Francs-Bourgeois, Rue des, 61, 68, 74.
Fremiet, 114, 153, 175, 179, 193, 205.
French, the, 29.
---- and English, 141, 227-40.
---- Revolution, 37-41, 116-21, 134-37, 138-40, 279-81, 284, 285,
307-11.
GALLAS, the, 206.
Gambetta monument, 126.
Gare de Lyon, 3.
---- du Nord, 3, 209.
---- St. Lazare, 3.
Garnier, Charles, 225.
Gautier, 270.
Genee, 270.
Genevieve, St., 188-92, 196, 197, 255.
Genlis, Madame de, 159.
Germain, Saint, 286-88.
Ghirlandaios, the, 90, 95.
Gibbon, 245.
Giotto, 90, 129.
Gladstone, 271, 302, 304.
Goat-herd, the, 292.
Gold and silver, 111.
_Golden Legend, The_, 57, 59, 189-91, 253-55, 289.
Goncourts, 270.
Goujon, Jean, 110.
Gounod, 143, 226.
Grand Cafe, 220.
Grandpre, Louise de, quoted, 35-37, 42-44.
Grands Boulevards, 218, 219.
Granie, 177.
Grenelle, Rue de, 158.
Greuze, 99.
Greve, Place de, 293.
Grevin, the Musee, 246.
Grolier, 247.
Gronow, Captain, quoted, 171-73.
Guides, 224.
Guillotine, the, 133-40.
HABENECK, 226.
Halevy, 270.
Halles, the, 290-92.
---- des Vins, the, 201.
Hals, 95.
Haraucourt, M. Edmond, 183.
---- ---- translated, 257.
Harpignies, 152, 176, 177.
Haussmann, Boulevard, 216, 247.
---- Baron, 122, 123.
Heine, Henrich, 142, 194, 266-69.
Heloise, 52, 315.
Henley, W. E., 178.
Henner, 151, 302.
Henri II., 299.
---- IV., 12, 13, 35, 112, 264, 278, 293, 294, 300.
Herold, 226.
Heyden, van der, 95, 98.
Hippodrome, 271.
His de la Salle collection, 80, 95, 101.
Hobbema, 95, 153.
Hoffbauer, 70.
Horloge, the, 22.
Hospital of the Trinity, 256.
Hotel de Ville, 294-96.
---- ---- ---- Rue de l', 296.
---- ---- Sens, 296.
---- des Monnaies, 167-69.
Houdon, 110.
Hugo, Victor, 25, 32, 48, 124, 153, 189, 298, 300-5.
---- Georges, 302.
Huysmanns, quoted, 187.
Hyacinthe, Pere, 47.
ILE de la Cite, 9-30.
---- St. Louis, the, 54-60.
Imprimerie Nationale, 68.
Ingres, 80, 95, 100, 163, 164.
Innocents, Square des, 293.
Institut, the, 166.
Invalides, Hotel des, 154-57.
Isabey, 106, 226.
Italiens, Boulevard des, 245, 273.
JABACH, 87.
Jacqueminot, Ignace, 195.
Jardin d'Acclimatation, 202, 205-7.
---- des Plantes, 201-5.
Jena, 214.
Jeraud, 110.
Joan of Arc, 114, 153, 160, 193.
"Joconde, La," 81-87, 318.
Joke, the one, 29, 238, 275.
Joseph, Frere, 298.
Josephine, the Empress, 45, 158, 174.
Jouy, Rue de, 297.
KARBOWSKI, 152.
Key, sign of the, 162.
LABLACHE, 226.
Labouchere, Mr., quoted, 210-13.
Lachaise, Pere, 315-17.
Lafayette, 317.
---- Rue, 277, 314.
Laffitte, Jacques, 245.
---- Rue, 245.
La Fontaine, 315.
Lamartine, 303.
Lamb, Charles, 285, 286.
---- Mary, 17.
Lancret, 99.
Landor quoted, 91.
Lang, Mr. Andrew, 178.
Latin Quarter, 179-81.
Latude, 71-73.
Lauder, Harry, 235.
Laurens, 295.
Law, John, 76.
Le Brun, 99.
Le Courtier, 175.
Lecouvreur, Adrienne, 158, 164.
Legros, 104, 175, 176.
Le Nain, 97.
Leno, Dan, 235.
Lepage, Bastien, 302.
Le Sidaner, 177.
Letter-boxes, 223.
Lippi, Fra Filippo, 90.
Lisle, Leconte de, 317.
Livry, Emma, 226.
Liszt, 226.
London and bookstalls, 14.
---- ---- Paris, 14, 24, 27, 129, 146, 154, 201, 219, 227-40, 238,
249, 273, 290-92.
Longchamp, 146-49.
Lotto, 91.
Louis-Philippe, 121, 123, 140, 144, 312.
Louis, Saint, 10, 27, 35, 47, 56-60, 65, 180.
---- XII., 248.
---- XIII., 87, 300.
---- XIV., 87, 297, 315.
---- XV., 133, 188, 248.
---- XVI., 36, 65, 115, 133, 215, 311.
---- XVIII., 46, 125, 215.
Louvre, Musee du, 78-113.
Lowell, J. R., quoted, 85.
Loyola, 263.
Lucas the failure, 221.
Luini, 80, 88, 91.
Luxembourg, the, 173-79.
Luxor column, the, 132, 140.
Lyons mail, the, 296.
MADELEINE, the, 188, 214-18.
Mainardi, 90.
Malibran, 225.
Manet, 100, 104, 152, 176.
Mantegna, 91, 95.
Marais, the, 61-77.
Marat, 71, 195.
Marcel, Etienne, 295.
Marguery, 252.
Marie Antoinette, 20, 21, 71, 215, 216.
Marius, 221.
Marly le Roi, 318.
Martin, Saint, 257, 258.
Martyrs, Chambre de, 159.
---- Rue des, 260.
Massacre of Swiss Guards, 115-21.
Massacre of St. Bartholomew, 23, 286.
Masse, Victor, 226.
Masson, Frederic, 246.
Maupassant, Guy de, 143.
Mazarin, 247, 297.
---- Rue, 276.
Medals and their designers, 169.
Medicis, Catherine de, 115, 287, 288, 293, 299.
---- fountain, the, 173.
---- Marie de, 141, 294.
Meilhac, 270.
Meissonier, 106, 176.
Memling, 95, 99.
Meryon, Charles, 23, 24, 51, 303.
Messina, Antonello di, 91.
Metsu, 95.
Meudon, 318.
Meyerbeer, 226.
Mi-Careme, 217, 218, 273.
Michel, Georges, 70.
Michelet, 316.
Millet, 100, 103, 106.
Mint, the Paris, 167-69.
Mirabeau, 194, 245, 289.
Moliere, 60, 170, 282, 283, 297, 315.
Monceau, Parc, 142, 143, 314.
Monet, 175.
Money, bad, in Paris, 168.
Monnaies, Hotel de, 167-69.
"Monna Lisa," 81-87, 318.
Mont de Piete, the, 66.
---- Parnasse, Cimetiere, 317.
---- Valerien, 318.
Montesquieu, Rue, 286.
Montgomery, Captain, 294, 299.
Montmartre, 245, 254, 260-75.
Montorgeuil, Rue, 5, 250.
Moreau collection, 103.
---- Musee, 261.
Morgue, the, 54, 55.
Mottez, 177.
Motto, Yama, 302.
Moulin-de-la-Galette, 272.
---- Rouge, 271.
Moulins, Le Maitre de, 97.
Mousseaux, 226.
Murger, Henri, 178, 180, 270.
Murillo, 92.
Musee de l'Armee, 154-57.
---- ---- Arts et Metiers, 258.
---- Carnavalet, 61, 69-74.
---- Cernuschi, 143.
---- de Cluny, 181-84.
---- du Conservatoire, 251.
---- Grevin, 246.
---- Guimet, 144.
---- du Louvre, 78-113.
---- de Luxembourg, 174-79.
---- Moreau, 261.
---- de l'Opera, 225, 226.
Musees des Jardin des Plantes, 204, 205.
Music in Paris, 289.
---- Hall, the, in Paris, 234, 235.
Musical trophies, 225, 226, 251.
Musset, Alfred de, 56, 282, 316.
Mystery plays, 256.
NAPOLEON and the Arc de Triomphe, 144.
---- ---- ---- end of the Revolution, 279-81.
---- ---- ---- Madeleine, 214.
---- ---- ---- Old Guard, 318.
---- ---- ---- Pantheon, 188.
---- ---- ---- statue of Henri IV., 13.
---- ---- ---- Vendome column, 278.
---- at St. Sulpice, 163.
---- his coronation, 44-46.
---- ---- early palaces, 174.
---- ---- interest in art, 112, 113.
---- ---- iron bridge, 166.
---- ---- relics, 154-57.
---- ---- second funeral, 157.
---- ---- tomb, 157.
---- ---- two Arcs, 124, 125, 126.
---- in two pictures, 101.
---- meets Josephine, 246.
---- relics at the Carnavalet, 73.
---- III., 46, 122, 123.
---- ---- rebuilds Paris, 122.
Neant, Cabaret de, 270.
Necker, 245.
Newspapers in France, 27-30.
New Year's Eve, 273.
New York, 129.
Ney, 316.
Night cafes, 273-75.
Nodier, Charles, on the book-hunter, 18.
Notre Dame, 11, 26, 31-53.
OFFENBACH, 269.
Olivier, Pere, 46.
Olympia Taverne, 220.
Opera, the, 48, 225.
Ostade, 98.
PAGANINI, 225, 251.
Pailleron, 143.
Painting, modern, 149.
Paix, Cafe de la, 227-43.
---- Rue de la, 277.
Palais de Justice, the, 24-26.
---- des Beaux-Arts, 150, 164, 165.
---- Royal, the, 283.
Palma, 91.
Pantheon, the, 188-96.
Pari-Mutuel, the, 147, 148.
Paris and balloons, 51.
---- ---- beggars, 263.
---- ---- Christianity, 190.
---- ---- economy, 291, 292.
---- ---- its aristocratic quarters, 62, 158.
---- ---- ---- billiard saloons, 220-22.
---- ---- ---- bird's-eye views, 145.
---- ---- ---- cemeteries, 315-17.
---- ---- ---- civic museums, 69-74.
---- ---- ---- clocks, 22.
---- ---- ---- dogs, 207-9.
---- ---- ---- early history, 9, 10.
---- ---- ---- fickleness, 216, 245.
---- ---- ---- flats, 162.
---- ---- ---- Mint, 167-69.
---- ---- ---- mobs, 32.
---- ---- ---- newspapers, 27-30.
---- ---- ---- restaurants, 7.
---- ---- ---- Royal Academy Schools, 164, 165.
---- ---- ---- royal palaces, 11.
---- ---- ---- Salons, 149.
---- ---- ---- sculpture, 126, 127.
---- ---- ---- stations, 1, 2.
---- ---- ---- statuary, 178.
---- ---- ---- two Zoos, 201.
---- ---- ---- views, 196, 264.
---- ---- ---- waiters, 238.
---- ---- late hours, 273.
---- ---- London, 14, 24, 27, 154, 201, 219, 227-40, 238, 249,
273, 290-92.
---- ---- the play, 28.
---- ---- ---- post, 223, 224.
---- ---- ---- ship, 48.
---- as Meryon saw it, 23, 24.
---- fairs, 153.
---- from Notre Dame, 11, 48, 49.
---- ---- the Eiffel Tower, 50, 51.
---- in the small hours, 273-75.
---- pleasure of entering, 1-4.
---- under siege, 209-13.
Parisian, the, his provinciality, 130.
Pascal, 198, 247, 293.
Passy, Cimetiere de, 317.
Pasteur, 160.
Pater, Walter, quoted, 82-84.
Pawning in Paris, 66.
Peacocks, the, 202-4.
Pere Lachaise, 264, 315-17.
---- Lunette, Le, 173.
Perugino, 91.
Picard, 177.
Picpus, Cimetiere de, 317.
Pigalle, Rue, 110, 260.
Pinaigriers, the, 198.
Planquette, 316.
Pointelin, 152.
Pol, Henri, 90, 127-30.
Police of Paris, the, 19, 240.
Pompadour, Madame la, 283.
Pompeii, treasures of, 110, 111.
Pompes Funebres, 251.
Pont au Change, the, 22.
---- Alexandre III., 153.
---- de la Concorde, 307.
---- Neuf, 12.
Porte Maillot, 149.
---- St. Denis, 253-56.
---- St. Martin, 256.
Post, the, in Paris, 223, 224.
Pot, 153.
Potter, 95.
Poussin, 91, 98.
Prefecture de Police, the, 18.
Print shops, 170.
Procope, Cafe, 171.
Prud'hon, 70
Puget, 110.
QUAI des Celestins, 60.
Quasimodo, 25, 48.
Quatre-Septembre, Rue du, 277.
RABELAIS, 297, 298.
Rachel, 301, 317.
Racine, 198.
Raeburn, 92.
Ramly, 110.
Raphael, 87, 88, 91, 92, 102, 318.
Ravaillac, 293, 294.
Reason, Goddess of, 39, 41.
---- the Cult of, 37-41.
Reaumur, Rue, 277.
Recamier, Madame, 101, 159, 160,245.
Religion advertised, 252.
Rembrandt, 91, 92, 93, 151, 248.
Renan, 270.
Renaudon, 27.
Renoir, 175.
Republic, Third, 124.
Republican palace, a, 294.
Republics in statuary, 259.
Republique, Place de la, 259.
Restaurants, 6-8, 147, 173, 199-201, 244, 252, 286.
Restoration, the, 123-25.
Reveillon, 244, 273.
Revolution, the, 33, 65, 71, 87, 113, 133-39, 178, 246, 259,
279, 281, 284, 285, 289, 300, 307-11.
---- of 1830, 296, 311, 312.
Revue, the, 235, 236.
Richelieu, 181, 284, 298, 300.
---- Rue de, 247, 282, 283.
Riding schools, 206.
Rivoli, Rue de, 277.
Robespierre, 138-40, 278.
Robinson, 318.
Rochefoucauld, Rue, 260.
Rodin, 174, 175, 177, 195.
Roland, Madame, 18, 71, 245.
Roman remains in Paris, 8, 31, 182, 187.
Romney, 99.
Rossini, 225, 226.
Rothschild collection, 111.
Rougemont, Cite, 251.
Rousseau, J. J., 106, 193.
Rubens, 91, 93, 94, 95.
Rude, 110.
Ruggieri, 289.
Ruisdael, 95, 152.
SACRE-COEUR, the, 245, 262.
St. Antoine, Rue, 297-99.
---- Bartholomew, Massacre of, 23, 286.
---- Cloud, 318.
---- Denis, 189, 215, 318.
---- ---- Rue, 255, 256.
---- Dominic, 47.
---- Francis, 129.
---- Genevieve, 188-92, 196, 197, 255.
---- Germain, 189.
---- Honore, Rue, 277-86.
---- Martin Priory, 257.
---- ---- Rue, 76, 257.
---- Merry, 75.
---- Peter, 75.
Sainte-Beuve, 317.
---- Chapelle, 26, 27.
Saints-Peres, Rue, 159, 276.
---- the mothers of, 190.
Salis, Rodolphe, 271.
Salons, the, 149.
Samson, the headman, 137, 139.
Sand, George, 178, 303.
Sargent, 152.
Sarto, Andrea del, 91.
Scheffer, 100.
Scribe, 317.
Sculpture in Paris, 78, 106-10, 126, 127, 178, 259.
Seine, the, 14.
Sens, Hotel de, 296.
Sevigne, Madame de, 73, 301.
Sevres, 318.
Sewers, the, 312.
Shaftesbury Avenue, 277.
Shaw, Mr. Bernard, 166.
Sicard, the Abbe, 178.
Siege of 1870, the, 210-13.
Sisley, 152, 175.
Soitoux, 259.
Solario, 91.
Sorbonne, the, 179-81.
Steinlen, 152, 176, 271, 302.
Sterne, Laurence, 16, 163.
Stockbrokers in Paris, 249.
Stoppeur, the, 162.
Street life in Paris, 236-43.
Streets, favourite, 250, 276, 277.
Student life, 180.
Suresnes, 149.
Swiss Guards, 115-21, 216.
TABARIN, Bal, 272.
Tailors, political, 249.
Talma, 316.
Temple, the, 63.
Tennyson, 304.
Terburg, 95, 102, 153.
Terra-cottas, 110.
Thackeray, 157, 294, 304.
Thames, the, 14.
Thaulow, 177.
Theatre, the first, 256.
---- the, in Paris, 232-34.
Theatres, 28, 282.
Themines, the Marquis de, 200.
Thiers, 317.
---- collection, 102.
Thomas, Ambroise, 143, 269.
Thomy-Thierret collection, 105, 106.
Tiber, the, 109.
Tintoretto, 89, 91.
Tissot, 177.
Titian, 88, 89, 91.
Tortoni, Cafe, 171-73.
Tour d'Argent, the, 199-201.
---- Saint-Jacques, 293.
Traffic, 240.
Trajan, 290.
Triomphe, Arc de, 114, 142-45, 302.
_Tristan und Isolde_, 292.
Troyon, 70, 105, 106.
Tuileries, the, 114-31.
UCCELLO, 90.
Uzanne, Octave, on the booksellers, 15, 16.
VALOIS, Rue, 285.
Van de Velde, 153.
---- Dyck, 94.
Vasari, quoted, 85, 86.
Veber, 152.
Velasquez, 88, 101.
Vendome, Place, 277, 278.
Venus of Milo, 107.
Verdi, 226.
Vermeer, 95.
Veronese, 88, 89.
Versailles, 318.
Vestris, 226.
Viarmes, Rue de, 288.
Victor Hugo, Avenue de, 305.
Vierge, 152, 302.
Views in Paris, 11, 48-50, 145, 196, 262.
Villebresme, Vicomte de, 297.
Ville d'Avray, 318.
---- Hotel de, 294-96.
---- ---- ---- Rue de l', 296.
Vincennes, 318.
Vinci, 81-87, 95, 318.
Virgin, the, and the Bird, 42-44.
Voisin's, 7.
Vollon, 70, 177.
Volney, Rue, 252.
Voltaire, 71, 166, 194, 195.
Vosges, Place des, 299.
WAITERS, 238.
Wallace, Sir Richard, 146.
Watteau, 70, 95, 99, 178.
Waxworks in Paris, 246.
Weenix, 98.
Weerts, 181.
Weyden, Roger van der, 95.
Whiff of Grapeshot, the, 279-81.
Whistler, 104, 177.
Wiertz, 261.
Willette, 271, 272.
Winged Victory, 78, 79, 87.
Women in Paris, 219, 239, 291.
ZIEM, 151.
Zola, 194, 315.
Zurbaran, 92.
ABERDEEN: THE UNIVERSITY PRESS