WAYS AND MEANS OF COMMUNICATION
The means of communication in and about Paris in former days was but a
travesty on the methods of the "Metropolitain," which in our time
literally whisks one like the wings of the morning, from the Arc de
Triomphe to the Bois de Vincennes, and from the Place de la Nation to the
Trocadero.
In 1850 there were officially enumerated over twenty-eight hundred
boulevards, avenues, _rues_, and passages, the most lively being St.
Honore, Richelieu, Vivienne, Castiglione, de l'Universite,--Dumas lived
here at No. 25, in a house formerly occupied by Chateaubriand, now the
Magazin St. Thomas,--de la Chaussee d'Antin, de la Paix, de Grenelle, de
Bac, St. Denis, St. Martin, St. Antoine, and, above all, the Rue de
Rivoli,--with a length of nearly three miles, distinguished at its
westerly end by its great covered gallery, where the dwellings above are
carried on a series of 287 arcades, flanked by _boutiques_, not very
sumptuous to-day, to be sure, but even now a promenade of great
popularity. At No. 22 Rue de Rivoli, near the Rue St. Roch, Dumas himself
lived from 1838 to 1843.
There were in those days more than a score of passages, being for the most
part a series of fine galleries, in some instances taking the form of a
rotunda, glass-covered, and surrounded by shops with _appartements_ above.
The most notable were those known as the Panoramas Jouffroy, Vivienne,
Colbert, de l'Opera, Delorme, du Saumon, etc.
There were more than a hundred squares, or _places_--most of which remain
to-day. The most famous on the right bank of the Seine are de la Concorde,
Vendome, du Carrousel, du Palais Royal, des Victoires, du Chatelet, de
l'Hotel de Ville, Royale, des Vosges, and de la Bastille; on the left
bank, du Pantheon, de St. Sulpice, du Palais Bourbon. Most of these
radiating centres of life are found in Dumas' pages, the most frequent
mention being in the D'Artagnan and Valois romances.
Among the most beautiful and the most frequented thoroughfares were--and
are--the tree-bordered quais, and, of course, the boulevards.
The interior boulevards were laid out at the end of the seventeenth
century on the ancient ramparts of the city, and extended from the
Madeleine to La Bastille, a distance of perhaps three miles. They are
mostly of a width of thirty-two metres (105 feet).
This was the boulevard of the time _par excellence_, and its tree-bordered
_allees_--sidewalks and roadways--bore, throughout its comparatively short
length, eleven different names, often changing meanwhile as it progressed
its physiognomy as well.
On the left bank, the interior boulevard was extended from the Jardin des
Plantes to the Hotel des Invalides; while the "_boulevards exterieurs_"
formed a second belt of tree-shaded thoroughfares of great extent.
Yet other boulevards of ranking greatness cut the _rues_ and avenues
tangently, now from one bank and then from the other; the most splendid of
all being the Avenue de l'Opera, which, however, did not come into being
until well after the middle of the century. Among these are best recalled
Sebastopol, St. Germain, St. Martin, Magenta, Malesherbes, and others. The
Place Malesherbes, which intersects the avenue, now contains the
celebrated Dumas memorial by Dore, and the neighbouring thoroughfare was
the residence of Dumas from 1866 to 1870.
Yet another class of thoroughfares, while conceived previous to the
chronological limits which the title puts upon this book, were the vast
and splendid promenades and rendezvous, with their trees, flowers, and
fountains; such as the gardens of the Tuileries and the Luxembourg, the
Champs Elysees, the Esplanade des Invalides, and the Bois de Boulogne and
de Vincennes.
Dibdin tells of his _entree_ into Paris in the early days of the
nineteenth century, having journeyed by "_malle-poste_" from Havre, in the
pages of his memorable bibliographical tour.
His observations somewhat antedate the Paris of Dumas and his fellows, but
changes came but slowly, and therein may be found a wealth of
archaeological and topographical information concerning the French
metropolis; though he does compare, detrimentally, the panorama of Paris
which unrolls from the heights of Passy, to that of London from Highgate
Woods.
On the contrary, his impressions change after passing the barriers.
"Nothing in London," says he, "can enter into comparison with the imposing
spectacle which is presented by the magnificent Champs Elysees, with the
Chateau of the Tuileries _en face_, and to the right the superb dome of
the Invalides glistening in the rays of the setting sun."
Paris had at this time 2,948 "_voitures de louage_," which could be hired
for any journey to be made within reasonable distance; and eighty-three
which were run only on predetermined routes, as were the later omnibuses
and tram-cars. These 2,948 carriages were further classified as follows;
900 _fiacres_; 765 _cabriolets_, circulating in the twelve interior
_arrondissements_; 406 _cabriolets_ for the exterior; 489 _carrosses de
remise_ (livery-coaches), and 388 _cabriolets de remise_.
The _prefet de police_, Count Angles, had received from one Godot, an
_entrepreneur_,--a sort of early edition of what we know to-day as a
company promoter,--a proposition to establish a line of omnibuses along
the quais and boulevards. Authorization for the scheme was withheld for
the somewhat doubtful reason that "the constant stoppage of the vehicles
to set down and take up passengers would greatly embarrass other traffic;"
and so a new idea was still-born into the world, to come to life only in
1828, when another received the much coveted authority to make the
experiment.
Already such had been established in Bordeaux and Nantes, by an individual
by the name of Baudry, and he it was who obtained the first concession in
Paris.
The first line inaugurated was divided into two sections: Rue de
Lancry--Madeleine, and Rue de Lancry--Bastille.
It is recorded that the young--but famous--Duchesse de Berry was the first
to take passage in these "intramural _diligences_," which she called "_le
carrosse des malheureux_;" perhaps with some truth, if something of
snobbishness.
There seems to have been a considerable difficulty in attracting a
_clientele_ to this new means of communication. The public hesitated,
though the prices of the places were decided in their favour, so much so
that the enterprise came to an untimely end, or, at least, its founder
did; for he committed suicide because of the non-instantaneous success of
the scheme.
The concession thereupon passed into other hands, and there was created a
new type of vehicle of sixteen places, drawn by two horses, and priced at
six sous the place. The new service met with immediate, if but partial,
success, and with the establishment of new routes, each served by
carriages of a distinctive colour, its permanence was assured.
Then came the "_Dames Blanches_,"--the name being inspired by Boieldieu's
opera,--which made the journey between the Porte St. Martin and the
Madeleine in a quarter of an hour. They were painted a cream white, and
drawn by a pair of white horses, coiffed with white plumes.
After the establishment of the omnibus came other series of vehicles for
public service: the "_Ecossaises_," with their gaudily variegated colours,
the "_Carolines_," the "_Bearnaises_," and the "_Tricycles_," which ran on
three wheels in order to escape the wheel-tax which obtained at the time.
In spite of the rapid multiplication of omnibus lines under
Louis-Philippe, their veritable success came only with the ingenious
system of transfers, or "_la correspondance_;" a system and a convenience
whereby one can travel throughout Paris for the price of one fare. From
this reason alone, perhaps, the omnibus and tram system of Paris is
unexcelled in all the world. This innovation dates, moreover, from 1836,
and, accordingly, is no new thing, as many may suppose.
Finally, more recently,--though it was during the Second Empire,--the
different lines were fused under the title of the "Compagnie Generale des
Omnibus."
"_La malle-poste_" was an institution of the greatest importance to Paris,
though of course no more identified with it than with the other cities of
France between which it ran. It dated actually from the period of the
Revolution, and grew, and was modified, under the Restoration. It is said
that its final development came during the reign of Louis XVIII., and grew
out of his admiration for the "_elegance et la rapidite des malles
anglaises_," which had been duly impressed upon him during his sojourn in
England.
This may be so, and doubtless with some justification. _En passant_ it is
curious to know, and, one may say, incredible to realize, that from the G.
P. O. in London, in this year of enlightenment, there leaves each night
various mail-coaches--for Dover, for Windsor, and perhaps elsewhere. They
do not carry passengers, but they do give a very bad service in the
delivery of certain classes of mail matter. The marvel is that such things
are acknowledged as being fitting and proper to-day.
In 1836 the "_malle-poste_" was reckoned, in Paris, as being _elegante et
rapide_, having a speed of not less than sixteen kilometres an hour over
give-and-take roads.
Each evening, from the courtyard of the Hotel des Postes, the coaches
left, with galloping horses and heavy loads, for the most extreme points
of the frontier; eighty-six hours to Bordeaux at first, and finally
only forty-four (in 1837); one hundred hours to Marseilles, later but
sixty-eight.
[Illustration: GRAND BUREAU DE LA POSTE]
Stendhal tells of his journey by "_malle-poste_" from Paris to Marseilles
in three days, and Victor Hugo has said that two nights on the road gave
one a high idea of the _solidite_ of the human machine; and further says,
of a journey down the Loire, that he recalled only a great tower at
Orleans, a candlelit _salle_ of an _auberge en route_, and, at Blois, a
bridge with a cross upon it. "In reality, during the journey, animation
was suspended."
What we knew, or our forefathers knew, as the "_poste-chaise_," properly
"_chaise de poste_," came in under the Restoration. All the world knows,
or should know, Edouard Thierry's picturesque description of it. "_Le reve
de nos vingt ans, la voiture ou l'on n'est que deux ... devant vous le
chemin libre, la plaine, la pente rapide, le pont._" "You traverse cities
and hamlets without number, by the _grands rues_, the _grande place_,
etc."
In April, 1837, Stendhal quitted Paris under exactly these conditions for
his tour of France. He bought "_une bonne caleche_," and left _via_
Fontainebleau, Montargis, and Cosne. Two months after, however, he
returned to the metropolis _via_ Bourges, having refused to continue his
journey _en caleche_, preferring the "_malle-poste_" and the _diligence_
of his youth.
Public _diligences_, however, had but limited accommodation on grand
occasions; Victor Hugo, who had been invited to the consecration of
Charles X. at Reims, and his friend, Charles Nodier, the
bibliophile,--also a friend of Dumas, it is recalled,--in company with two
others, made the attempt amid much discomfort in a private carriage,--of a
sort,--and Nodier wittily tells of how he and Hugo walked on foot up all
the hills, each carrying his gripsack as well.
More than all others the "Coches d'Eau" are especially characteristic of
Paris; those fly-boats, whose successors ply up and down the Seine, to the
joy of Americans, the convenience of the Parisian public, and--it is
surely allowable to say it--the disgust of Londoners, now that their aged
and decrepit "Thames steamboats" are no more.
These early Parisian "Coches d'Eau" carried passengers up and down river
for surprisingly low fares, and left the city at seven in the morning in
summer, and eight in winter.
The following is a list of the most important routes:
Paris--Nogent-sur-Seine 2 days en route
Paris--Briare 3 " " "
Paris--Montereau 1 " " "
Paris--Sens 2 " " "
Paris--Auxerre 4 " " "
All of these services catered for passengers and goods, and were, if not
rapid, certainly a popular and comfortable means of communication.
An even more popular journey, and one which partook more particularly of a
pleasure-trip, was that of the _galiote_, which left each day from below
the Pont-Royal for St. Cloud, giving a day's outing by river which to-day,
even, is the most fascinating of the many _petits voyages_ to be
undertaken around Paris.
The other recognized public means of communication between the metropolis
and the provincial towns and cities were the "Messageries Royales," and
two other similar companies, "La Compagne Lafitte et Caillard" and "Les
Francaises."
These companies put also before the Parisian public two other classes of
vehicular accommodation, the "_pataches suspendues_," small carriages with
but one horse, which ran between Paris and Strasburg, Metz, Nancy, and
Lyons at the price of ten sous per hour.
Again there was another means of travel which originated in Paris; it was
known as the "Messageries a Cheval." Travellers rode _on_ horses, which
were furnished by the company, their _bagages_ being transported in
advance by a "_chariot_." In fine weather this must certainly have been an
agreeable and romantic mode of travel in those days; what would be thought
of it to-day, when one, if he does not fly over the kilometres in a
Sud--or Orient--Express, is as likely as not covering the _Route
Nationale_ at sixty or more kilometres the hour in an automobile, it is
doubtful to say.
Finally came the famous _diligence_, which to-day, outside the "Rollo"
books and the reprints of old-time travel literature, is seldom met with
in print.
"These immense structures," says an observant French writer, "which lost
sometimes their centre of gravity, in spite of all precaution and care on
the part of the driver and the guard, were, by an _Ordonnance Royale_ of
the 16th of July, 1828, limited as to their dimensions, weight, and
design."
Each _diligence_ carried as many spare parts as does a modern automobile,
and workshops and supply-depots were situated at equal distances along the
routes. Hugo said that the complexity of it all represented to him "the
perfect image of a nation; its constitution and its government. In the
_diligence_ was to be found, as in the state, the aristocracy in the
coupe, the _bourgeoisie_ in the interior, the people in _la rotonde_, and,
finally, 'the artists, the thinkers, and the unclassed' in the utmost
height, the _imperiale_, beside the _conducteur_, who represented the law
of the state.
"This great _diligence_, with its body painted in staring yellow, and its
five horses, carries one in a diminutive space through all the sleeping
villages and hamlets of the countryside."
From Paris, in 1830, the journey by _diligence_ to Toulouse--182 French
leagues--took eight days; to Rouen, thirteen hours; to Lyons, _par_
Auxerre, four days, and to Calais, two and a half days.
The _diligence_ was certainly an energetic mode of travel, but not without
its discomforts, particularly in bad weather. Prosper Merimee gave up his
winter journey overland to Madrid in 1859, and took ship at Bordeaux for
Alicante in Spain, because, as he says, "all the inside places had been
taken for a month ahead."
The coming of the _chemin de fer_ can hardly be dealt with here. Its
advent is comparatively modern history, and is familiar to all.
Paris, as might naturally be supposed, was the hub from which radiated the
great spokes of iron which bound the uttermost frontiers intimately with
the capital.
There were three short lines of rail laid down in the provinces before
Paris itself took up with the innovation: at Roanne, St.
Etienne-Andrezieux, Epinac, and Alais.
By _la loi du 9 Juillet_, 1835, a line was built from Paris to St.
Germain, seventeen kilometres, and its official opening for traffic, which
took place two years later, was celebrated by a _dejeuner de circonstance_
at the Restaurant du Pavillon Henri Quatre at St. Germain.
Then came "Le Nord" to Lille, Boulogne, and Calais; "L'Ouest" to Havre,
Rouen, Cherbourg, and Brest; "L'Est" to Toul and Nancy; "L'Orleans" to
Orleans and the Loire Valley; and, finally, the "P. L. M." (Paris-Lyon et
Mediterranee) to the south of France. "Then it was that Paris really
became the rich neighbour of all the provincial towns and cities. Before,
she had been a sort of pompous and distant relative"--as a whimsical
Frenchman has put it.
The mutability of time and the advent of mechanical traction is fast
changing all things--in France and elsewhere. The Chevaux Blancs, Deux
Pigeons, Cloches d'Or, and the Hotels de la Poste, de la Croix, and du
Grand Cerf are fast disappearing from the large towns, and the way of iron
is, or will be, a source of inspiration to the poets of the future, as has
the _postillon_, the _diligence_, and the _chaise de poste_ in the past.
Here is a quatrain written by a despairing _aubergiste_ of the little town
of Salons, which indicates how the innovation was received by the
provincials--in spite of its undeniable serviceability:
"En l'an neuf cent, machine lourde
A tretous farfit damne et mal,
Gens moult rioient d'icelle bourde,
Au campas renovoient cheval."
The railways which centre upon Paris are indeed the ties that bind Paris
to the rest of France, and vice versa. Their termini--the great
_gares_--are at all times the very concentrated epitome of the life of the
day.
The new _gares_ of the P. L. M. and the Orleans railways are truly
splendid and palatial establishments, with--at first glance--little of the
odour of the railway about them, and much of the ceremonial appointments
of a great civic institution; with gorgeous _salles a manger_,
waiting-rooms, and--bearing the P. L. M. in mind in particular--not a
little of the aspect of an art-gallery.
The other _embarcaderes_ are less up-to-date--that vague term which we
twentieth-century folk are wont to make use of in describing the latest
innovations. The Gare St. Lazare is an enormous establishment, with a
hotel appendage, which of itself is of great size; the Gare du Nord is
equally imposing, but architecturally unbeautiful; while the Gare de l'Est
still holds in its tympanum the melancholy symbolical figure of the late
lamented Ville de Strasbourg, the companion in tears, one may say, of that
other funereally decorated statue on the Place de la Concorde.
Paris, too, is well served by her tramways propelled by horses,--which
have not yet wholly disappeared,--and by steam and electricity, applied in
a most ingenious manner. By this means Paris has indeed been transformed
from its interior thoroughfares to its uttermost _banlieu_.
The last two words on the subject have reference to the advent and
development of the bicycle and the automobile, as swift, safe, and
economical means of transport.
The reign of the bicycle as a pure fad was comparatively short, whatever
may have been its charm of infatuation. As a utile thing it is perhaps
more worthy of consideration, for it cannot be denied that its
development--and of its later gigantic offspring, the automobile--has had
a great deal to do with the better construction and up-keep of modern
roadways, whether urban or suburban.
"_La petite reine bicyclette_" has been feted in light verse many times,
but no one seems to have hit off its salient features as did Charles
Monselet. Others have referred to riders of the "new means of locomotion"
as "cads on casters," and a writer in _Le Gaulois_ stigmatized them as
"_imbeciles a roulettes_," which is much the same; while no less a
personage than Francisque Sarcey demanded, in the journal _La France_,
that the police should suppress forthwith this _eccentricite_.
Charles Monselet's eight short lines are more appreciative:
"Instrument raide
En fer battu
Qui depossede
Le char torlu;
Velocipede
Rail impromptu,
Fils d'Archimede,
D'ou nous viens-tu?"
Though it is apart from the era of Dumas, this discursion into a phase of
present-day Paris is, perhaps, allowable in drawing a comparison between
the city of to-day and that even of the Second Empire, which was, at its
height, contemporary with Dumas' prime.
If Paris was blooming suddenly forth into beauty and grace in the period
which extended from the Revolution to the Franco-Prussian War, she has
certainly, since that time, not ceased to shed her radiance; indeed, she
flowers more abundantly than ever, though, truth to tell, it is all due to
the patronage which the state has ever given, in France, to the fostering
of the arts as well as industries.
And so Paris has grown,--beautiful and great,--and the stranger within her
gates, whether he come by road or rail, by automobile or railway-coach, is
sure to be duly impressed with the fact that Paris is for one and all
alike a city founded of and for the people.