of three-and-a-half hours, we made the bustling town of Boulogne,
which is prettily situated on the open sea-coast, at the head of a
small bay. On an eminence near the town, is a conspicuous monument,
commenced by Napoleon to commemorate his (intended) conquest of
England,(!) and completed by Louis XVIII., to commemorate Napoleon's
downfall!
* * * * *
WE sailed up between two long and excellent wood piers, filled with
expecting friends, porters, police, soldiers, custom-house officers,
etc., and stepping for the first time on the soil of Europe, at least
of the continent, I was escorted by a companion through the eager
crowd, amid the clamorous calls of the commissioners, 'Hotel du Nord?
Hotel D'Angleterre? Hotel D'Orleans? Portmanteau, Monsieur?' and all
in a strange tongue. What a jabbering! At a little bureau on the quay
our passports were received, and we were permitted to proceed without
any personal examination, the commissioner of our hotel (D'Orleans,)
taking charge of our luggage, which he 'passed' in an hour, without
giving us a word of trouble; but we soon found we were not to escape
vexations, for the seats in the diligences, had been engaged for
four days to come! This is especially provoking, in such a place as
Boulogne. But repining avails not.
This is the second of 'Le Trois Jours,' and the tri-colored flags
are displayed from every house in town, giving the streets a gay and
lively face. This is a remarkably clean and orderly place, and in
this respect forms a strong contrast to its rival, Calais. It is a
famous sea-bathing place, and during the summer, English residents
and visitors form one third of the whole population. Indeed, the town
is very _à la Anglaise_--more so, they say, than any other in France.
But still there is enough to remind a novice that he is really in
another country, in the old world. The military on the docks and in
every street; the poor women, bare-footed and bare-headed, performing
the labor of beasts of burthen, being in fact the public porters,
and thankful for the chance of carrying your luggage for a few sous;
the incessant jabbering in a strange tongue, (strange, alas! to me,)
'for even the children here,' as one sagely remarked, 'talk very good
French;' the streets without side-walks, and the picturesque figures
in them; the immense clumsy diligences, arriving and setting off in
cautious pace; the street harpists and music-grinders, (of which we
have abundant specimens,) etc. The hotels form about one-fourth of
all the buildings of the town, and are all crowded. Mine host has a
summer pavilion on the banks of the sea, commanding an extensive view
of the English coast, etc., and very similar to that at Rockaway,
(L. I.,) and to this we are sent in a barouche to dine at the _table
d'hôte_, in a large airy hall, which accommodates one hundred or
more. The company, being mostly English, seemed rather awkward in
this novel mode of dining; and there was no general conversation at
the table. My neighbour stared with astonishment when he found I was
not English, and still more so that I was an American, 'the first
he had ever seen;' and he looked as tickled as if he had seen an
ourang-outang. The shore before the pavilion is covered with little
bathing-cars, which are drawn into the water by horses, and there
is a handsome assembly-hall near by, for the bathers. After dinner,
walked up to the 'barriers,' or ramparts, which surround an elevated
part of the city, and serve both for fortification and a public
promenade. The view from them is very fine.
* * * * *
FRIDAY.--A rainy day, and the review and ceremonies in the church
are given up. Strangers at the hotels have been invited by the
mayor to a grand ball at the 'Salle du Spectacle,' or theatre, this
evening. A band of music at the pavilion at dinner. Went to the
theatre; great crowd, nine-tenths spectators; much like our Masonic
Hall balls, except that there is no room to dance. The élite of the
town displayed their best, but the majority were English. It was to
be _très selecte_, and has been the town-talk for a week; yet my
companion said, with great surprise, that of one of the prettiest of
the dancers he had bought his gloves. Made an appointment to meet him
at Amiens cathedral, at five A. M.
SATURDAY.--A most vexatious mistake of my own has lost me my seat
again, and I must endure idleness and ennui, in this purgatory,
twenty-four hours longer. Horrors! What _shall_ I do? Wandered into a
museum, and killed an hour. Bought 'Diary of Desennuyée.' Miserable
trash! Changed it for Mrs. Trollope's 'Paris and the Parisians;'
precious little better. The longest day I have known this two years.
* * * * *
AUGUST 31ST.--Found myself actually mounted on the _rotonde_ of a
French diligence, and proceeding, at the pace of six or seven miles
an hour, toward Paris. Splendid morning; and the roads are thoroughly
sprinkled by the late rain. The diligence has been recently much
modified, _à l'Anglaise_, and I perceived but little difference in
the mode or rate of travelling. This one has two outside rear seats,
or the _rotonde_; the _banquette_, over the conducteur's seat in
front; and the interior, divided into three apartments. The front
is called the _coupé_, and is the highest price. The conducteur is
a respectable personage, who overlooks the whole team, delivers the
passports, etc., and the fee to him, and the postilion, is always
regular, and paid in advance. (The fees to waiters at hotels in
France are always charged in the bills; so there is one annoyance
well rid of.)
The road to Paris, by Montreuil, Abbeville, and Beauvais, is
flat, stale, and unprofitable. There is little to be seen but
wheat-fields and pastures, and here and there a bit of a hut, with
the philanthropic announcement, 'Loge au pied et un cheval;' which
is equivalent, I presume, to the similar English establishments'
sign, 'Entertainment for man and horse.' Montreuil is an antique
and strongly-fortified town, entirely surrounded by a high wall,
and several out-posts. Here we stopped to dine. Abbeville, the
next, is the largest town on the route, and quite _continental_ in
its appearance. It was a fête-day, and the whole population were
amusing themselves in the streets, some with a dancing monkey, others
listening to a buffoon, or improvisatrice. Then we passed through
Airaines, Granvilliers, and Marseilles to Beauvais, famous for its
siege in 1472 by the Duke of Burgundy, which was raised by the heroic
Jean Hanchette, whose memory is still honored by an annual festival.
Here we took a good breakfast, for which our night ride had created
an excellent appetite. Passing then through the small villages of
Puiseux, Blaumont, Sur-Oise and Marseilles, we came to Saint Dennis,
the burial-place of the kings of France, and from thence proceeded
through a broad, straight, dusty avenue, to the capital, without
having any general view; and were set down at the bureaux of the
Messageries Royal, where our luggage was slightly examined, and I
was then escorted, by a young companion, to the Hotel De Lille et
d'Albion, opposite the Palais Royal. Dined at the table d'hôte,
with a company of thirty, all English. Got a cab and rode over one
of the bridges to find my quandam yankee doctor. Find it necessary
to be in earnest now about learning French. My ignorance is rather
awkward, but still it is not impossible to make myself understood;
and 'necessity is the mother of invention.'
* * * * *
AUGUST 2ND.--Hired a guide, or interpreter, to show me the
localities, and assist me in my business. In the city in general,
I am disappointed. The narrow, filthy streets, with gutters in the
centre, and without side-walks, and the antique and irregular
buildings, do not realize my notions of gay, elegant Paris. But the
extent and magnificence of the _public_ buildings, palaces, gardens,
parks, boulevards, etc., are enough to atone for the dirty streets.
The general view of the city, from one of the centre bridges, (the
atmosphere being wonderfully clear and transparent,) is grand and
imposing in the extreme. The luxurious and superb architecture of the
Louvre, Tuilleries, Luxembourg, and Palais Royal, and the _immense
extent_, as well as the great beauty and elegance, of the gardens
and parks, connected with these places, must astonish even the most
sanguine.
* * * * *
AUGUST 4TH.--Took lodgings with Dr. ---- in Rue D'Enfer, opposite the
garden of the Luxembourg, for three objects, namely: to have a guide
to the city; to learn French from him and the talkative landlady,
and for economy's sake, for I pay but seven and a half francs a week
for a snug room with attendance, in a good situation, and can have
breakfast (such as it is) for fifteen sous.[11]
6TH. Having disposed of most of my business, I commenced
'_lionizing_.' First, I walked over Pont des Arts, through the Louvre
and the Tuilleries, to the Garden of the Tuilleries, which, I need
not say, is laid out on a scale of great extent and magnificence,
and is profusely adorned with fine statues, and groups in bronze and
marble. The number and variety of the noble walks in this garden are
truly astonishing. And it is not less so, that the finest statuary
should be so liberally exposed to the public, without the least
guard or protection, and yet none of it is ever injured. Passed
through Place de la Concorde, (late Place Louis XVI.;) and the Champs
Elysées, where they were removing the lamps, etc., used in the late
fête of the three days; and walked up the broad and noble avenue to
the Arc de Triomphe, which was completed a few days since, and is one
of the most conspicuous, and most admired ornaments of the capital. I
will send you a printed description, which will save me a great many
words. Suffice it to say, that the most extravagant epithets will not
give you too high an idea of it. It is of white marble, adorned with
exquisite bas-reliefs, and is so immense in extent and height, that
from the Pont Neuf, about three miles distant, it is conspicuous far
above the tall trees of the Champs Elysées, and all the surrounding
objects.
* * * * *
RETURNED to the Louvre, and spent the forenoon in its celebrated
Musée and Gallery of Paintings. This gallery is one thousand three
hundred and thirty feet long, and would reach from Broadway to
Wooster-street! The ceiling is oval, and is elegantly gilded and
adorned. The perspective of the gallery is much like that of Thames
Tunnel, and the farther end appears to be only three or four feet
high. As to the paintings, I have marked in the catalogue those
which particularly struck me, and no farther description would be
worth while. The gallery of ancient sculpture is of course intensely
interesting, and contains one of the finest collections in the world.
(See Madame Starke.) Walked up to the Boulevards, which, with Rue
Rivoli, Rue Castiglione, and perhaps two or three others, are the
only streets which do credit to the city. The Boulevards are quite
modern; and when the trees are matured, and the building finished,
they will be much more beautiful than now. The Boulevard des Italiens
is the handsomest. In the Boulevard Conti, is the superb church of
_St. Madeline_, the interior of which is not yet completed. It is
like the _Bourse_, or Exchange, on the model of a Grecian temple,
and is built of white marble, surrounded with exquisite Corinthian
pillars, and ornamented with bas-reliefs. In the Place Vendome,
nearby, is the celebrated column (on the model of Trajan's,) erected
by Napoleon to commemorate his victories. What a gigantic mind was
Napoleon's! It is displayed as much in the monuments, edifices, and
public works, which he planned and executed, as in his ambitious
projects for the conquest of Europe. This column is made of cannon
taken in his battles, and you must see it, in order to understand the
difficulty as well as grandeur of such a project.
Returned to my room before dark; for recent examples have shown, that
it is not quite safe to be out alone, late in the evening, in the
streets of Paris. Several persons have been attacked and robbed, and
one or two killed, in this neighborhood, within a few days.
* * * * *
SUNDAY.--Went to St. Sulpice, which is ranked as the second church
in Paris, next to Notre Dame. It is Roman Catholic of course, for
there are but four or five Protestant churches in all Paris! The
front of St. Sulpice is very grand and imposing, but the rest is not
particularly so. The interior is spacious and lofty, but far less
elaborately finished and decorated than the cathedrals of England.
There are large niches around the walls, enclosed with a railing,
and adorned with fine paintings, an altar etc., which seemed to be
private or family chapels. Several companies of children, apparently
belonging to schools, were led into the church by priests in black
cloth robes. These priests were reading the service in various parts
of the church, and in the niches, to groups of ten or twenty; but the
principal one was before the grand altar, which was richly adorned,
and contrived for effect, which I cannot describe.
7TH.--Went to Versailles, where there was to be a grand review, etc.
The Doctor, a medical student, a New-Orleans gentleman, and myself,
took a hack together, and started off about eleven o'clock. All the
world had gone or were going; the vehicles of all sorts, from the
superb barouche of the nobility, to the go-cart of the market folks,
were innumerable. Rode along the Quai des Tuilleries and the Champs
Elysées. Passed Saint Cloud, the favorite residence of Napoleon, and
the scene of the bloodless revolution which gave him the government
of France. Near the palace, is a column for telegraphs, by which
Napoleon communicated with Paris. A certain light was a signal that
he would see nobody. Neither lord nor lady must approach.
ARRIVED at Versailles at one. Review just over! The palace here
is immensity personified. It can hardly be comprehended. From the
magnificent gardens, the view of it is superb. These gardens will
more than realize the most brilliant fairy scene of the Arabian
Nights. They extend _several miles_ in each direction; laid out with
the most perfect neatness and order; and this is their only fault.
There is too much trimming--too much exactness. If they were a little
more like the wild beauty of nature, they would please my eye as
well. Statuary, of all sorts, is liberally disposed throughout these
vast grounds; noble avenues intersect each other at half-angles
in the gardens and park; and in these the trees are so placed and
trimmed as to form a grand triumphal arch; while the squares between
are occupied by fountains, curiously devised, or by a bed of flowers.
'All the world and his wife' were there. Suddenly, there was a
pressing toward one of the grand avenues. It was to see the King
of Naples, who is now here on a visit to his aunt, the Queen of
the French. The king and the French queen were in an open car,
accompanied by two good-looking youths, about sixteen and eighteen,
(the Dukes of Nemours and Orleans,) and the two princesses, rather
pretty, and dressed with taste and marked simplicity. An elderly
gentleman, next to the King of Naples, was said to be his minister
or guardian, and he looks as if he needed one. He is a mustachioed,
dandyish-looking fellow, and stared through his quizzing glass in
a style quite amusing. The people took off their hats, as the car
passed, but there was not a whisper of applause or enthusiasm.
On our return, just as we stopped at the park of St. Cloud, the
French king's carriage came up, kept as close as a prison; and in
a few minutes, the queen and he of Naples arrived, and stopped in
the park to change horses; so we had a chance to scan them all very
closely. The queen might have been handsome once, but she certainly
is not now. She bowed repeatedly to some one by the carriage; but not
a word was uttered, which appeared very strange.
* * * * *
10TH.--My way to Galignani's reading-room, every morning, is through
the portico of the hall of the celebrated French Institute, over the
Pont des Arts, and through the quadrangles of the Louvre and Palais
Royal. What a world in miniature, (and not on a very small scale
either,) is this Palais Royal! A palace that would _cover two or
three of our squares_, in the heart of the city, was converted by
its proprietor, the late Duke of Orleans, into an immense bazaar;
the entrance from every part being from the interior court, which is
a long promenade of itself, adorned with rows of trees, fountains,
and gardens. The lower floor of the palace is divided into stores,
in the arcade fashion, in which are displayed every article, almost,
which can be imagined or desired, for use or ornament. The jewellers
are the most numerous. There are, I should think, at least three or
four hundred of these shops on the first floor, and they each rent
for four thousand francs per annum. The second floor is occupied by
cafés, reading-rooms and by gambling-establishments, or 'hells,' and
the upper stories by characters of all sorts, male and female. In
short, there is a specimen of every thing, good and bad, in this
Palais Royal; and even the bad is made so alluring and dazzling, that
altogether, it is no very difficult matter for an unwary novice there
to rid himself of his superfluous cash. The imposing _coup d'oeil_
of the palace and gardens you can imagine better from the prints,
than from any description.
Near the Bourse, is the Halle au Blé, an immense circular building,
the dome of which is nearly as large as that of the Pantheon at Rome.
* * * * *
IN my ramble to-day, I dropped into a church which I found to be
that of Saint Roch, one of the most beautiful in Paris. Like Saint
Sulpice, it has numerous private altars in the enclosures around the
walls, which are adorned with fine paintings. Near the main altar,
there is a representation of the sepulchre, made with real stones,
and roughly placed in the supposed manner of the original, and a
group of statuary, as large as life, representing the entombment.
It is so well done, that the credulous devotees who were kneeling
before it seemed to think it was reality. Near it is a representation
of Mount Calvary and the Crucifixion, not painted, but contrived to
produce a most singular effect.
In the aisle of Saint Roch, I met an English lady, and her three
daughters, whom I had seen at Boulogne. Having travelled with
the lady's husband, but not having been formally introduced, I
passed without speaking to them. The lady turned and spoke to me,
and politely invited me to call at her hotel. I mention this, as
proving that the English are not always so tenacious about formal
introductions as they have been represented.
* * * * *
TUESDAY, 9TH.--Walked before breakfast to the Jardin des Plants,
where botanical students have the privilege of studying all the
immense variety of specimens which are there displayed, in a garden
of three-fourths of a mile long. A small hill in the centre is
surmounted by a little bronze temple, from which there is a good
prospect. On this hill are two or three _Cedars of Lebanon_, which
are esteemed very rare and valuable; it is a beautiful tree, and
quite _oriental_. Beside the plants in this establishment, there is a
menagerie, a museum of botany and natural history, etc.
Visited the gallery of the Luxembourg, which is appropriated for
paintings and sculpture by living artists. It was a rich treat. See
catalogue. The garden of the Luxembourg is a beautiful promenade, but
not equal to that of the Tuilleries. Nothing can exceed the gayety
and brilliancy of the scene in these gardens at sunset, and early in
the evening, when the thousands are enjoying the cool refreshing air,
or admiring the fountains and statues. In the Tuilleries, a sculpture
in bronze has been lately put up, representing a lion crushing a
viper or serpent. It seems to attract much attention, as being
emblematical of a strong government putting down all insurrectionary
vipers.
Visited _Notre-Dame_. The interior architecture will not compare
with that of York Minster, and other English cathedrals, but it has
a lighter and more cheerful appearance. It is abundantly decorated
with paintings, some of which are very superior. A company of priests
were chanting in the choir, in the most doleful manner imaginable.
Ascended by four hundred steps to the top of the towers, from which
there is a fine view of Paris and the environs. The clearness of
the atmosphere renders the view much better than that from Saint
Paul's. The _Palais de Justice_, where the courts, etc., are held,
is near Notre Dame, on the Ile de Cité. The Court of Cassation are
now engaged in the trial of persons lately arrested for supposed
treasonable plots. Poor Louis Phillipe! thine is a throne of thorns!
Thou darest not show thyself in public, lest thy life should be
forfeited! Who does not envy thee! And yet, I have never learned that
the king has merited these attempts on his life. The government, in
spite of some severe laws, has been as liberal as the character of
the people would justify.
The _Bibliothèque du Roi_ contains eight hundred thousand volumes,
the largest library in the world. I noticed a work on the topography,
etc., of France, alone, in two hundred and nine large folio volumes!
Connected with the library, is an immense collection of prints, and
of antique medals, cameos, gems, etc. I saw the armour of the Duke
of Sully, Henry IV., and several of the French generals; manuscript
original letters of Racine, Molière, Bossuet, Boileau, Voltaire,
Fenelon, Rousseau, etc.; manuscripts written in the third, fourth,
and fifth centuries, beautifully illuminated; manuscripts in Turkish,
Arabic, Coptic, Egyptian, etc., and paintings from the ruins of
Thebes, probably done before Christ.
* * * * *
THE papers announced a review of the troops before the Tuilleries, by
the king, and the King of Naples, but it was changed to the Champs
Elysées, and the King of France was not present. He is said to be
very courageous himself, and it is only the urgent entreaties of
his family and his ministers which keep him so close. He wished to
have the review on the 29th, but they would not permit him. Just
as I was leaving the Garden of the Tuilleries, the king arrived in
a coach-and-six, preceded by a courier, and escorted by a party of
dragoons. He looked out of the carriage and bowed, and I had a good
opportunity to see him. The face was quite _natural_, and very much
like the prints.
This afternoon I visited one of the most curious and interesting
sights in Paris, the manufactory of the celebrated _Gobelin
Tapestry_, where those copies of the Cartoons of Raphael, exhibited
in New-York, were made. The operation appears perfectly simple, and
yet I cannot understand it. The picture to be copied is hung on
the wall behind the loom; the weaver sits with his back to it, and
works on the _back of the tapestry_. It is done entirely by hand,
and of course it is very slow work, six years being spent on one
piece. There are about ten or twelve rooms, some of them containing
two or three looms. Several of the pieces now on the looms are very
beautiful, and they are, therefore, very expensive. None but kings
and _millionaires_ can afford them. Annexed to the tapestry rooms,
there is a manufactory of carpets, of a most princely description,
uniting the thickness and durability of the Turkey carpets, with the
softness and elegance of the Wilton. The colors and patterns are
really superb. The carpets are always made in one piece. These, also,
are such as the most wealthy only can buy.
* * * * *