_Paris, November 11, 1801._
What fortunate people are the Parisians! Yesterday evening so thick a
fog came on, all at once, that it was almost impossible to discern
the lamps in the streets, even when they were directly over-head. Had
the fog occurred twenty-four hours earlier, the effect of the
illuminations would have been entirely lost; and the blind would have
had the advantage over the clear-sighted. This assertion experience
has proved: for, some years ago, when there was, for several
successive days, a duration of such fogs in Paris, it was found
necessary, by persons who had business to transact out of doors, to
hire the blind men belonging to the hospital of the _Quinze-Vingts_,
to lead them about the streets. These guides, who were well
acquainted with the topography of the capital, were paid by the hour,
and sometimes, in the course of the day, each of them cleared five
louis.
Last night, persons in carriages, were compelled to alight, and grope
their way home as they could: in this manner, after first carefully
ascertaining where I was, and keeping quite close to the wall, I
reached my lodgings in safety, in spite of numberless interrogations
put to me by people who had, or pretended to have, lost themselves.
When I was interrupted in my account of the _fète_, we were, if I
mistake not, on the _Place de la Concorde_.
Notwithstanding the many loads of small gravel scattered here, with a
view of keeping the place clean, the quantity of mud collected in the
space of a few hours was really astonishing. _N'importe_ was the
word. No fine lady, by whatever motive she was attracted hither,
regretted at the moment being up to her ankles in dirt, or having the
skirt of her dress bemired. All was busy curiosity, governed by
peaceable order.
For my part, I never experienced the smallest uncomfortable squeeze,
except, indeed, at the conclusion of the pantomime, when the
impatient crowd rushed forward, and, regardless of the fixed bayonets
of the guards in possession of the platform, carried it by storm.
Impelled by the torrent, I fortunately happened to be nearly in front
of the steps, and, in a few seconds, I found, myself safely landed on
the platform.
The guard now receiving a seasonable reinforcement, order was
presently restored without bloodshed; and, though several persons
were under the necessity of making a retrograde movement, on my
declaring that I was an Englishman, I was suffered to retain my
elevated position, till the musicians composing the orchestras,
appropriated to each of the three temples, had taken their stations.
Admittance then became general, and the temples were presently so
crowded that the dancers had much difficulty to find room to perform
the figures.
Good-humour and decorum, however, prevailed to such a degree that,
during the number, of hours I mixed in the crowd, I witnessed not the
smallest disturbance.
Between nine and ten o'clock, I went to the _Pont de la Concorde_ to
view the fireworks played off from the _Temple of Commerce_ on the
river; but these were, as I understand, of a description far inferior
to those exhibited at the last National Fête of the 14th of July, the
anniversary of the taking of the Bastille.
This inferiority is attributed to the precaution dictated, by the
higher authorities, to the authors of the fireworks to limit their
ingenuity; as, on the former occasion, some accidents occurred of a
rather serious nature. The spectators, in general, appeared to me to
be disappointed by the mediocrity of the present exhibition.
I was compensated for the disappointment by the effect of the
illumination of the quays, which, being faced with stone, form a
lofty rampart on each embankment of the river. These were decorated
with several tiers of lamps from the top of the parapet to the
water's edge; the parapets and cornices of the bridges, together with
the circumference of the arches, were likewise illuminated, as well
as the gallery of the _Louvre_, and the stately buildings adjoining
the quays.
The palace of the Legislative Body, which faces the south end of the
_Pont de la Concorde_, formed a striking object, being adorned, in a
magnificent style, with variegated lamps and transparencies. No less
splendid, and in some respects more so, from the extent that it
presented, was the façade of the _ci-devant Garde-Meuble_, and the
corresponding buildings, which form the north side of the _Place de
la Concorde_, whither I now returned.
The effect of the latter was beautiful, as you may judge from the
description which I have already given you of this façade, in one of
my preceding letters. Let it suffice then to say, that, from the base
of the lower pillars to the upper cornice, it was covered with lamps
so arranged as to exhibit, in the most brilliant manner, the style
and richness of its architecture.
The crowd, having now been attracted in various directions, became
more penetrable; and, in regaining the platform on the _Place de la
Concorde_, I had a full view of the turrets, battlements, &c. erected
behind the three temples, in which the skilful machinist had so
combined his plan, by introducing into it a sight of the famous
horses brought from _Marly_, and now occupying the entrance of the
_Champs Elysées_, that these beautiful marble representations of that
noble animal seemed placed here on purpose to embellish his scenery.
Finding myself chilled by standing so many hours exposed to the
dampness of a November night, I returned to the warmer atmosphere of
the temples, in order to take a farewell view of the dancers. The
scene was truly picturesque, the male part of the groups being
chiefly composed of journeymen of various trades, and the females
consisting of a ludicrous medley of all classes; but it required no
extraordinary penetration to perceive, that, with the exception of a
few particular attachments, the military bore the bell, and, all
things considered, this was no more than justice. Independently of
being the best dancers, after gaining the laurels of victory in the
hard-fought field, who can deny that they deserved the prize of
beauty?
The dancing was kept up with the never-flagging vivacity peculiar to
this nation, and, as I conclude, so continued till a very late hour
in the morning. At half past eleven I withdrew, with a friend whom I
chanced to meet, to Véry's, the famous _restaurateur's_ in the
_Tuileries_, where we supped. On comparing notes, I found that I had
been more fortunate than he, in beholding to advantage all the sights
of the day: though it was meant to be a day of jubilee, yet it was
far from being productive of that mirth or gaiety which I expected.
The excessive dearness of a few articles of the first necessity may,
probably, be one cause of this gloom among the people. Bread, the
staff of life, (as it may be justly termed in France, where a much
greater proportion is, in general, consumed than in any other
country,) is now at the enormous price of eighteen _sous_ (nine-pence
sterling) for the loaf of four pounds. Besides, the Parisians have
gone through so much during the revolution, that I apprehend they
are, to a certain degree, become callous to the spontaneous
sensations of joy and pleasure. Be the cause what it may, I am
positively assured that the people expressed not so much hilarity at
this fête as at the last, I mean that of the 14th of July.
In my way home, I remarked that few houses were illuminated, except
those of the rich in the streets which are great thorough-fares.
People here, in general, I suppose, consider themselves dispensed
from lighting up their private residence from the consideration that
they collectively contribute to the public illumination, the expenses
of which are defrayed by the government out of the national coffers.
Several songs have been composed and published in commemoration of
this joyful event. Among those that have fallen under my notice, I
have selected the following, of which our friend M---s, with his
usual facility and taste, will, I dare say, furnish you an imitation.