city and its improvements, as we Americans say, he will soon find that
Paris has been chiefly indebted for her grandeur to Henry IV., Louis
XIV., Napoleon, and Louis Philippe. Bridges, places, arches, and
fountains show how much Paris owes to these rulers. Of fountains there
are, I should think, nearly a hundred in the city, and some are
exceedingly fine. The Seine is not much of an affair. With us, it would
be only a muddy brook. Some of the bridges that span it are fine. I have
seen nothing in Paris more picturesque than the prospect from the Pont
Neuf. It is my favorite stand point. Off to the right are the towers of
Notre Dame, and the long line of old houses which tell of centuries upon
centuries since they were built; and on the left of the river are the
Hotel de Ville, St. Germain L'Auxerrois; and some of the most venerable
streets. From the bell tower of St. Germain the signal was rung for the
infamous massacre of the Protestants, on St. Bartholomew's eve, 23d of
August, 1572. In the Rue de l'Arbre sec, at No. 14, was Admiral Coligny
murdered on that occasion. It was formerly known as the Hotel Ponthieu,
but is to be demolished in a few weeks, to make way for improvements. We
felt a desire to see the spot where the Bastile formerly stood, and
which was destroyed by the mob in July, 1789, and the key of which is
now at Mount Vernon, having been sent as a present to Washington. This
was the theatre of the greatest resistance made by the insurgents in
June, 1848; and here, too, it was that the Archbishop of Paris met with
his death. On the site of the Bastile, Louis Philippe laid the
foundation of a column which commemorates the revolution of 1830. This
column is of bronze, and is one hundred and sixty-three feet high, in
addition to the pedestal of white marble, supported by immense granite
blocks. The diameter of the column is, I believe, twelve feet, and it
cost about twelve hundred thousand francs. There is no masonry in the
interior. The staircase is suspended, and the whole concern vibrates
with the passing breeze. I did not ascend, you may be sure. The
Corinthian capital, over which is a gallery with rails, is very
beautiful, and is the largest casting in bronze that is known--or,
rather, was, for I _think_ that the Amazon at the London Exhibition will
take the palm for size. On the globe which surmounts the pillar stands a
colossal gilt figure, which represents Liberty. On the bands which
encircle the pillar are the names of those who were killed in the
three days of July, amounting to fire hundred and four. All around and
beneath are interred the remains of these patriots.
[Illustration: Colonne de Juillet.]
We are going to take the Cemetery at Pere la Chaise for to-morrow's
excursion; and the rest of the day I must devote to letters home, as the
packet day is close at hand.
Yours,
WELD.
Letter 29.
PARIS.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
This morning, as we were taking a very comfortable breakfast at the
coffee-room of our hotel, and as I was reading Galignani's daily paper,
I found a person at the next table addressing me, in nasal twang,
"Stranger, is this fellow Galignani a reliable chap?" I assured him that
he passed for an authority. Laying down his paper on the table, he
pathetically described the tramp which the programme for the
sight-seeing of yesterday's paper had given him, and declared his
inability to keep up with the instructions for that day. Finding that he
was a character, I carried on the conversation; and he talked most
edifyingly to all in the room, as he spoke loud enough to be heard at
the very end. I inquired if he had been to London. His reply was, "I
reckon I have; why, I come on purpose to see the _Crystial_ Palace."
"Well, sir," I said, "and how did you like it?" "O, that exhibition is
some!" "And pray, sir, what did you think of the Greek Slave?" "There,
now, stranger, I takes it that where she were raised _cotton was
dreadful scarce."_ This, was too much and too good; and I think it is by
far the best thing I have heard about the exhibition. How the boys
managed to keep quiet, I know not; but they did as well as could be
expected. The room was thoroughly awake, and I resigned our countryman
to other hands.
After breakfast, we rode to the Cemetery of Pere la Chaise. This spot
has for centuries been celebrated for its beauty; and, for a period of
more than one hundred years, the Jesuits had a country residence here.
They had it early in the sixteenth century, or, perhaps, at the close of
the fifteenth. Louis XIV. made his confessor, Pere la Chaise, the
superior of the society; and in 1705 it was the head-quarters of
Jesuitism in France.
The present cemetery was consecrated in 1804; and the entire grounds are
walled in, and they are very nearly two hundred acres. You know how much
I admire Greenwood and Mount Auburn. Well, I still prefer them to this
Golgotha. The walks are some of them fine, but the tombs are too thick.
There is no regularity. It looks as though there had been a rain storm
of tombs and monuments, and they lie as they fell. This is the very
metropolis of death. Some of the monuments are elegant indeed, but often
their beauties are hidden. The most attractive spot to us was the
resting-place of "the bravest of the brave." Ney yet has no monument.
The tombs of Casimir Perrier, the Countess Demidoff, Abelard and
Heloise, General Macdonald, Lavalette, Gobert, Foy, Moliere, Laplace,
and Junot are some that pleased us most, and are exquisite specimens of
art. Many of these tombs have small rooms, with altars and glass doors.
Opposite the altar is a chair, and we saw several mourners in devout
attitude at the shrine of affection. I have heard from a Parisian of
great intelligence, and who has been connected with the city government,
that very nearly, if not quite, thirty millions of dollars have been
spent upon this cemetery. Of course, the expense of sculpture here has
been enormous, as the best talent of Europe has contributed to adorn the
spot, and perpetuate the memory of the departed.
On leaving this charnel-house of mortality, we drove to the Abattoir de
Popincourt, which is the largest in the city, and occupies six hundred
and forty-five feet by fire hundred and seventy. On entering, we found
four slaughter-houses, each standing alone. Here, too, are sheds for
four thousand sheep, and stables for four hundred oxen. There are also
four melting-houses. We also noticed a large building called the
_Triperie_, for preparing tripe and the feet of animals. The week we
were there the statistics of slaughter were as follows: Eight hundred
and seventy-two oxen, three hundred and fifty-six cows, seven hundred
calves, and two thousand eight hundred and seventy-five sheep. Nothing
of the sort can be kept cleaner than this establishment. The water ran
down every channel, and very little blood could be seen, or effluvia
noticed. When will New York have its _abattoirs_? No city in the world
needs such an auxiliary to health and comfort more than she does.
Perhaps the good people will call for one after a few more visitations
of cholera. There are four other similar establishments in Paris.
We had a nice ride home round the boulevards, and, stopping at the
consul's office, found a famous budget of letters and papers, and with
great pleasure we addressed ourselves to their contents. I am amused to
see how various are the demands made upon the time and services of a
consul. He needs to have the patience of Job; and if he answers
satisfactorily and authoritatively the questions which I have heard
propounded, he ought to have in his library the acts of every state
legislature in the Union. Marriage, death, removal of deceased
relatives from their places of sepulture, rates of interest, value of
stocks, condition of railroads, and statistics of all sorts have been
topics which I have heard laid before him for advice and opinion. Very
few men, however, possess more general knowledge of the United States
than our consul--Mr. Goodrich--does; and his kindness will lead him to
do all he can to satisfy the querist.
Yours, as ever,
J.O.C.
Letter 30.
PARIS.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
Yesterday we went to the Cirque, in the Champs Elysees. It is a very
large building, with sixteen sides, and behind is another spacious one
for the horses. The intention of the builder was to represent a Moorish
hall; and the pillars of iron are, with the panellings of the walls,
gilt and frescoed. The roof is very elegant, and the largest chandelier
in Paris is in the centre, blazing with I cannot tell you how many gas
lights. The circus will accommodate about six or seven thousand people,
and when we were there it was very nearly full. We paid two francs each,
and had the best seats. The performances were very good, and some quite
beyond any thing I had before seen. There was one feat that was really
great. They placed planks upon supporters, from the centre of the circus
up to the edge of the gallery, making an angle of about fifty feet.
Well, Charley, a fellow walked in with a ball, about three quarters of a
yard in diameter, and on this ball he trotted about on the ground for
perhaps two minutes; then he marches it to the foot of this plank, still
standing on it, and up he goes,--yes, he totes and coaxes the ball under
his feet, up, up,--till at last he stands on it on the gallery; and
then, did not the place ring again with applause? But then it is not
over; for down he comes the selfsame way--and that is the tug of war;
but he did it. This he did _backwards_, also, each way. I never saw any
thing before that would equal this, and I want to see him do it again
before we leave Paris. The horsemanship was very good. But there was one
fellow who threw himself into the very oddest attitudes you can fancy.
He looked, as he moved about on the earth, like any thing but a human.
We were all much amused with the audience. Entire families were there.
You could see parties coming in where there was no mistake about
grandfather and grandmother, father, mother, and all the children. It
seems that all classes here have a taste for amusement, and pursue it
with much earnestness. The audience behaved very well--every thing was
quiet. I noticed a great many well-dressed women who carried round
crickets to the ladies, for their feet, and for this they got a few
sous.
As we returned, we found, in the grounds through which we walked, scores
of establishments for juvenile amusement--stalls where there are
exhibitions of moving figures, and at which you may shoot with bow and
arrow by paying a small price. Not far from the Cirque we met with an
out-door concert, in a very tasty garden--the performers all occupying a
fine orchestra. The audience were seated at tables in the garden, taking
ice cream, lemonade, coffee, &c. Now and then one of the singers would
pass round and take up a collection.
This day we went to the Hippodrome, which is a very large enclosure,
nearly opposite the Triumphal Arch. This is no less than three hundred
and eighty feet in diameter, and will seat all of ten thousand persons,
who are under shelter, but the course-ground is open to the heavens.
This place is open from three to five during the warm weather, and is
under the same management as the Cirque. Our great object in coming was
to see the ball feat again, and also the skirmishes of some twenty
Arabs, who are here exhibiting their tactics. I never saw a more
reckless, savage-looking set of fellows than they were. Only one looked
like a venerable Arab--he did look patriarchal. They had several sham
attacks, and rode about shooting helter skelter, looking as if they
would enjoy the real thing much better. These fellows are said to be
some of the Algerine captives brought over by the French. Our friend Mr.
Hodgson, who lived so long in Turkey, and speaks Arabic, talked with
them, much to their surprise.
We have determined to leave Paris this week, and commence our journey
through Belgium, Holland, go up the Rhine, and take Switzerland on our
return to Paris--and perhaps we may leave to-morrow. I ought not to omit
saying that we have had a very pleasant Sunday in our own parlor here.
We did not feel much like going to the French church that morning; and
the doctor invited the Rev. Dr. Murray, Dr. Chetwood, Rev. Mr. Darling,
Judge Darling, Rev. Mr. Hovey, Mr. King, and some other friends to join
us, and have a religious meeting. It was a very interesting one, too.
Dr. Murray spoke about the state of France, the need the French had of
our Sunday, and how they could not be a free and happy people, and get
along without soldiers, till they had it. All the ministers took part;
and I shall not very soon forget that day; and then I think we all
thought a good deal about home, as each minister talked and prayed for
our families.
Our next letters will, I suppose, be from Brussels.
Yours, &c.,
GEORGE.
Letter 31.
BRUSSELS.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
The fine weather, and the advantage of having pleasant company, has
induced us to leave Paris and pursue our journey, leaving many things to
see in the great metropolis when we return. I forgot to tell you that in
Paris I had the pleasure to meet an English clergyman, a relative of
mine, who was there passing the honey-moon. This gentleman and his lady
joined our party; and we are now to go together as far as Antwerp,
certainly. We took the rail from Paris direct to Brussels,--a distance
of two hundred and thirty miles,--and passed through Amiens, Arras,
Douai, Valenciennes, Quievrain, St. Jemappes,--here King Louis Philippe,
with General Dumourier, in 1792, gained a battle over an Austrian army,
and so gained Belgium to France, little thinking that his son-in-law
would be its king,--Mons, Bruin le Compte, Halle, and so to Brussels. At
Quievrain we found the custom-house of Belgium, and the little river,
called Aunelle, is the boundary of the republic. Mons is a fine-looking
place, fortified strongly. The region is one entire coal field, and
there are many pits in operation. Ten miles from Mons Marlborough fought
the battle of Malplaquet, in 1709. When we passed, the town was in
great commotion with the trial of Count Bocarme and his wife for the
murder of her brother. She was by some means acquitted, but he was
convicted and executed by the guillotine.
As soon as we entered Belgium, we were struck with the improvement of
the lands. The small towns look remarkably thrifty, and every place
seems to speak of manufactures and industry.
At Brussels, we put up at the Hotel Bellevue, in the Place Royale. The
situation is good. In a large square, and in front of our hotel, is the
magnificent statue, in bronze, of Godfrey, Duke of Boulogne, the cast of
which we so admired as the Crusader, in the exhibition. In this square
Leopold was inaugurated King of Belgium.
Every traveller enters Brussels with expectation of pleasure. He has
heard that it is Paris in miniature; and then Byron has thrown around it
his witchery of song. I can see but a dull and dim resemblance to Paris.
Brussels, with its suburbs, which are quite large, has only a population
of one hundred and thirty thousand. The town is very clean, looks cosy,
and has some very beautiful edifices. But you come here full of fancy
about "Belgium's capital," "her beauty and her chivalry," and the
"windowed niche of that high hall," and you see at first only a plain,
good, comfortable town. However, there is quite enough of romance,
after all, in this same place; and when you traverse it thoroughly, you
find enough to call out deep interest; and before you leave it you are
much gratified, and, in all probability, feel desirous to see it again.
I like to be in places that have a history; and this Brussels has. Let
me tell you about this place. It stands on the brow of a high bill, and
the upper and lower towns are different affairs entirely. The summit is
covered with palaces, public buildings, boulevards, parks, &c, and the
lower part is in the valley of the River Senne. Brussels was a city in
709. In 976, the Emperor Otho held his court there; in 1044, it was
fortified and had seven gates; in 1405, a fire destroyed fourteen
hundred houses; and in 1549, it suffered from two earthquakes. But still
it grew and flourished under the dukes of Burgundy, and became famous
for tapestry, lace, and fire-arms. In the days of Charles V., the city
of Brussels was at its zenith. Philip II., his son, and his infamous
general, the Duke of Alva, ravaged this city and vicinage. The people
were fanatical, and the rulers cruel. In 1695, the city was besieged,
and four thousand houses destroyed by the bombardment. In 1794, Belgium
was annexed to France. After the battle of Waterloo, the Prince of
Orange was proclaimed sovereign of Belgium. In 1830, the revolution
displaced the Orange dynasty, and Belgium broke off from Holland; and
in 1831, the people chose Leopold for their king. The first thing I
wanted to see was the Hotel de Villa, which, many years ago, pleased me
exceedingly; and I think all our party have been delighted with it. This
is the noblest civil building in Belgium; it stands in a fine square,
and is a glorious specimen of the Lombardy Gothic school. The spire is
of open fretwork, and the sun shines through it. It has long been
esteemed as one of the most precious works of architecture in Europe.
The extreme height is three hundred and sixty-four feet, and it was
erected in 1444. On the spire is a gilt statue of St. Michael, seventeen
feet high, which turns with the wind. In front of this town hall Counts
Egmont and Horn were executed, under the eye of Alva; but they were
nobly avenged by William of Orange. At the head of a very steep and
narrow street stands a most imposing structure. It is the Cathedral
Church of St. Gudule. The foundation was laid in 1010. The front view is
very much like that of Notre Dame, at Paris. This church is occasionally
called St. Michael's in old writers, as it had a double consecration to
the archangel and Gudule. The interior of this cathedral is very
impressive, although the architecture is simple. The pillars supporting
the roof are massive, and must receive the admiration of all spectators.
There are brackets attached to them, on which stand finely-executed
figures of the Savior, the Virgin Mary, and the Apostles, executed by
the following renowned sculptors: Vandelyn, Quellyn, Tobias, and
Duquesnoy. The pulpit is regarded as the finest in Europe, and is the
most elaborate composition of sculpture in wood that is extant. It is
the work of the great Verbruggen, and was originally executed for a
Jesuit society at Louvain, in 1699. The art is exquisite, and far
superior to the taste which is exhibited. The pulpit represents the
expulsion of Adam and Eve from paradise by the angel. Death is seen in
pursuit of the guilty fugitives; and on the extreme summit is the Virgin
Mary, bruising the serpent's head with a cross. On the steps and
balusters are various beasts and birds; the owl, ape, and peacock are
conspicuous. We found preparations for a great church holiday, to be
observed the next day; and the Virgin Mary was gayly decked out in
embroidery, lace, and jewelry.
A monument to Count Merode, in a chapel, is a most exquisite production,
and was executed by Geefs. Here Charles V., in 1616, held a chapter of
the Golden Fleece. The restoration of this beautiful church has been
carefully attended to lately, and the new windows of painted glass are
very fine; but some of the old windows, by Weyde, are grand indeed.
In this church the famous sacramental wafers are placed away as relics
of inestimable value. Perhaps you recollect the story of the Jews who
purloined them, and profanely stuck the consecrated bread with knives;
when, lo, a miracle! blood came from the incision, and the unbelievers
were smitten down. Of course, they were taken, and tormented, and burnt.
This was at the close of the fourteenth century. The great celebration
of this Popish imposition of a miracle is kept up in July every year.
All one side of this noble building is a set of mean, low, one and
two-story shanties, which deface the appearance of the venerable pile.
While in the church, we saw vast numbers of boys and girls, who had come
to make their confession and prepare for their first communion, to take
place next day. We often saw in the streets of Paris and Brussels girls
dressed in white, with wreaths of flowers, and boys, with dresses that
looked as if they were bound to a wedding; these were young people going
to communion. The poor children in this church looked as funny on the
occasion, sitting and chatting, waiting for their turn to confess, as
the priest looked tired and indifferent.
We spent much of our leisure time walking in the noble park and gardens.
O, when shall we have in America such care taken of our few green spots,
in our great cities, as is here displayed? No lady can be more chary of
the order of her drawing-room than are the authorities at Brussels of
these beautiful promenades. Then, too, here are avenues of trees that
make you in love with the city as you enter it. I do wish all our towns
would raise committees of public-spirited men, who should undertake, by
voluntary contributions, or town action, to plant the roadsides that
form the entrances to these places. I was delighted, some months ago, to
hear that a few gentlemen at Haverhill, in Massachusetts, had banded
together for this purpose. Charley, if you live to take an active share
in the business of life, try and do something for the place you live in
that shall appear after you have gone; make the spot of your residence
better, because you have once lived in it. We are too selfish; we do not
fulfil our duty to those who are to come after us; we do not, even in
the matters of this present state, live up to the great law of our
being--"No man liveth to himself."
Leopold's Palace is exceedingly plain and unpretending for a royal
residence. It was originally composed of two wings, through which a
street ran its course; but they are now united by a central building,
with a handsome portico, having for its support six Corinthian pillars.
The edifice is about three hundred and ninety feet in length; and, while
the front is on the Park, the rear opens on an extensive garden. At the
opposite side of the Park is the Chamber of Representatives. In the
Park, and near to the Palace, is the prettiest glen and bit of miniature
wood I know of.
We found our accomplished representative, the Hon. Mr. Bayard, kind and
attentive. He lives in a charming part of the city; and his position
must be a pleasant one, having good society in the place, and near to
Paris.
Yours affectionately,
J.O.C.
Letter 32.
BRUSSELS.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
I like this city very much--it is so clean. The buildings in the upper
part of the town are new, and in pleasant contrast to the lower portion,
which looks so very old. I think, from walking about a great deal, that
there must be many English people here; for they carry their country in
their dress and manner. We spent a morning at the various shops, and
principally at the lace and print stores. We purchased some very
beautiful engravings, lithographs, and illustrated works, which will
remind us of our pleasant days in Brussels, and which I hope may amuse
our friends. The lacework executed here is uncommonly rich, and, you
know, is very famous; but, I am sorry to say, also very expensive. A
person may soon get rid of large amounts of money here. We made some
purchases for the ladies at home; but no doubt, if they had been with
us, the bills would have been heavier than they were.
The way we manage for getting money while we are travelling is by a
circular letter from Baring & Brothers. On this we are introduced to
houses in the great cities through which our route lies, and the letter
states our credit at London; then from these houses we obtain what we
need, and have each house indorse the amount; so that, as we go from
place to place, our financial position in London still appears. In
Brussels we found the banker, or, at least, his agent,--for whether the
banker or his clerk we did not know,--a perfect specimen of vulgarity
and rudeness. He was the most uncivil fellow that we have yet seen in
Europe. His most pleasant words were grunts, and his motions and
attitudes were almost threats. He looked like a Jew, but he acted like a
wild Arab; and his manoeuvres would have been a godsend to the comic Dr.
Valentine, if he had witnessed their display. His gray hairs did not
command respect; and what made his rudeness so hard to bear, was the
fact that nothing occurred to call it out. We probably met him at an
unhappy moment.
The Museum is in the old palace of the Spanish governors of the Low
Countries, and long before their day it was the ducal residence of the
Brabants. The building was begun in 1346, and completed in 1502.