_Early dinner.--Mante.--Frost.--Duke de Sully.--Approach the
Capital.--Norman Barrier.--Paris.--Hôtel de Rouen.--Palais Royal._
At day break, the appearance of the country in all directions was
delightful. The faint eastern blush of early morn, threw a mild,
refreshing light over the moist and dew-dripping scenery.
The spirit of our immortal bard, awaking from the bosom of nature,
seemed to exclaim--
------------Look love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds, in yonder east;
Night's candles are burnt out; and jocund Day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
About eight o'clock in the morning, we arrived at Mante, a picturesque
town, built upon a fertile mountain, at the base of which the Seine
flowed along, rippling against its many islands of beautiful poplars. At
this hour, upon our alighting at the inn, we found a regular dinner
ready, consisting of soups, meats, fowls, and confectionary. To the no
small surprise of the host, I expressed a wish to have some breakfast,
and at length, after much difficulty, procured some coffee and rolls.
The rest of the party, with great composure, tucked their napkins in the
buttonholes of their waistcoats, and applied themselves to the good
things before them, with very active address. What a happy race of
people! ready for every thing, and at all times; they scarcely know the
meaning of inconvenience.
In the midst of difficulty, they find accommodation; with them, every
thing seems in harmony. After paying thirty sols for my repast, a charge
which announced our approach to the capital, I walked on, and made my
way to the bridge over another winding of the Seine, at the bottom of
the town; which is a light, and elegant structure. The houses along the
sides of the river are handsome, and delightfully situated. The
principal church is a fine gothic building, but is rapidly hastening to
decay; some of its pinnacles are destroyed, and all its windows broken
in.
A small chapel, in the street opposite, which had an appearance of
considerable elegance, was converted into a slaughter-house. Embosomed
in woods, on the other side of the bridge, is a fine chateau, formerly
belonging to the count d'Adhemar; here, while enjoying the enchanting
prospect about me, I heard the jingling approach of our heavy diligence,
in which, having reseated myself, we proceeded upon a fine high road,
through thick rows of walnut, cherry, mulberry, and apple trees, for
several miles, on each side of which, were vineyards, upon whose
promising vintage, the frost had committed sad devastation. For a vast
extent, they appeared blackened and burnt up. It was said that France
sustained a loss of two millions sterling, by this unusual visitation.
In the course of our journey, I experienced in the conduct of one of our
two female companions, an occurrence, allied to that, which is related
by Sterne, of Madame de Rambouillet, by which he very justly illustrates
the happy ease, with which the french ladies prevent themselves from
ever suffering by inconvenient notions of delicacy.
A few miles from Mante, on the borders of the Seine, we passed one of
the venerable chateaus of the celebrated duke de Sully, the faithful,
able, and upright minister, of Henry IV of France, one of those great
geniuses, who only at distant æras of time, are permitted to shine out
amongst the race of men. Historians unite in observing that the duke
performed all the duties of an active and upright minister, under a
master, who exercised all the offices of a great and good king; after
whose unhappy fate, this excellent man retired from the busy scenes of
the world, and covered with time and honours expired in the
eighty-second year of his age in the year 1641, at his castle of
Villebon. The house is plain, and large. The grounds are disposed after
the fashion of ancient times.
As we approached the capital, the country looked very rich and
luxuriant. We passed through the forest of St. Germains, where there is
a noble palace, built upon a lofty mountain. The forest abounds with
game, and formerly afforded the delights of the chase to the royal
Nimrods of France. Its numerous green alleys are between two and three
miles long, and in the form of radii unite in a centre. The forest and
park extend to the barrier, through which, we immediately entered the
town of St. Germains, distant from Paris about twelve miles, which is a
large and populous place, and in former periods, during the royal
residence, was rich and flourishing, but having participated in the
blessings of the revolution, presents an appearance of considerable
poverty, and squalid decay. Here we changed horses for the last post,
and ran down a fine, broad paved, royal road through rows of stately
elms, upon an inclined plane, until the distant, and wide, but clear
display of majestic domes, awful towers, and lofty spires, informed us
that we approached the capital. I could not help comparing them with
their cloud-capped brethren of London, over whose dim-discovered heads,
a floating mass of unhealthy smoke, for ever suspends its heavy length
of gloom. Our carriage stopped at the Norman Barrier, which is the grand
entrance to Paris, and here presents a magnificent prospect to the eye.
The barrier is formed of two very large, and noble military stone
lodges, having porticoes, on all sides, supported by massy doric
pillars. These buildings were given to the nation, by the national
assembly in the year 1792, and are separated from each other, by a range
of iron gates, adorned with republican emblems. Upon a gentle declivity;
through quadruple rows of elms, at the distance of a mile and a half,
the gigantic statues of la Place de la Concorde (ci-devant, de la
Revolution) appear; beyond which, the gardens, and the palace of the
Thuilleries, upon the centre tower of which, the tricoloured flag was
waving, form the back scene of this splendid spectacle. Before we
entered la Place de la Concorde, we passed on each side of us, the
beautiful, and favourite walks of the parisians, called les Champs
Elysées, and afterwards, on our left, the elegant palace of the
Garde-meuble; where we entered the streets of Paris, and soon afterwards
alighted at the bureau of the diligences; from which place, I took a
fiacre (a hackney coach) and about six o'clock in the evening presented
myself to the _mistress_ of the hôtel de Rouen, for the women of France
generally transact all the masculine duties of the house. To this hotel
I was recommended by Messrs. G----, upon mentioning whose name, I was
very politely shown up to a suite of pleasant apartments, consisting of
an antiroom, bedroom, and dressing-room, the two latter were charmingly
situated, the windows of which, looked out upon an agreeable garden
belonging to the palace of the Louvre. For these rooms I paid the
moderate price of three livres a day. Here, after enjoying those
comforts which travellers after long journies, require, and a good
dinner into the bargain, about nine o'clock at night I sallied out to
the Palais Royal, a superb palace built by the late duke d'Orleans, who
when he was erecting it, publickly boasted, that he would make it one of
the greatest brothels in Europe, in which prediction he succeeded, to
the full consummation of his abominable wishes. This palace is now the
property of the nation. The grand entrance is from the Rue St. Honorè, a
long street, something resembling the Piccadilly of London, but
destitute, like all the other streets of Paris, of that ample breadth,
and paved footway, for the accommodation of pedestrian passengers, which
give such a decided superiority to the streets of the capital of
England. After passing through two noble courts, I entered the piazza,
of this amazing pile; which is built of stone, upon arches, supported
by corinthian pilasters. Its form is an oblong square, with gardens, and
walks in the centre. The whole is considered to be, about one thousand
four hundred feet long, and three hundred feet broad. The finest shops
of Paris for jewellery, watches, clocks, mantuamakers, restaurateurs[8],
china, magazines, &c., form the back of the piazza, which on all the
sides, of this immense fabric, affords a very fine promenade. These
shops once made a part of the speculation, of their mercenary, and
abandoned master, to whom they each paid a rent after the rate of two or
three hundred pounds sterling per annum. This place presents a scene of
profligate voluptuousness, not to be equalled upon any spot in Europe.
Women of character are almost afraid to appear here at noon day; and a
stranger would conceive, that at night, he saw before him, one third of
the beauty of Paris.
[8] Restaurateur is now universally used instead of traiteur.
Under the roof of this palace are two theatres, museums of curiosities,
the tribunate, gaming houses, billiard rooms, buillotte clubs, ball
rooms, &c., all opening into the gardens, the windows of which threw,
from their numerous lamps, and lustres, a stream of gay and gaudy light
upon the walks below, and afforded the appearance of a perpetual
illumination. At the bottom was a large pavilion, finely illuminated, in
which were groups of people regaling themselves with lemonade, and ices.
Upon this spot, in the early part of the revolution, the celebrated
Camille Desmoulins used to declaim against the abuses of the old
government, to all the idle and disaffected of Paris. It is said that
the liveries of the duc d'Orleans gave birth to the republican colours,
which used to be displayed in the hats of his auditors, who in point of
respectability resembled the motley reformers of Chalk Farm. From the
carousing rooms under ground, the ear was filled with the sounds of
music, and the buzzing of crowds; in short, such a scene of midnight
revelry and dissipation I never before beheld.
Upon my return to my hôtel, I was a little surprised to find the streets
of this gay city so meanly lighted. Lamps placed at gloomy distances
from each other, suspended by cords, from lofty poles, furnish the only
means of directing the footsteps of the nocturnal wanderer.