This building is destined for the reception of corn and flour: it was
begun in 1762, on the site of the ancient _Hôtel de Soissons_, which
was purchased by the city of Paris. In the space of three years, the
hall and the circumjacent houses were finished, under the direction
of the architect, CAMUS DE MEZIÈRE.
The circular form of this hall, the solidity of its construction, its
insulated position, together with the noble simplicity of its
decoration, perfectly accord with the intention and character of the
object proposed. Twenty-five arches, all of equal size, serve each as
an entrance. On the ground-floor are pillars of the Tuscan order,
supporting vast granaries, the communication to which is by two
stair-cases of well-executed design.
The court is covered by a cupola of one hundred and twenty feet in
diameter, forming a perfect semicircle, whose centre, taken on a
level with the cornice, is forty-four feet from the ground. The dome
of the Pantheon at Rome, which is the largest known, exceeds that of
the _Halle au Blé_ by thirteen feet only. This cupola is entirely
composed of deal boards, a foot in breadth, an inch in thickness, and
about four feet in length. It is divided into twenty-five lateral
openings, which give as many rays of light diverging from the
centre-opening, whose diameter is twenty-four feet. These openings
are all glazed, and the wood-work of the dome is covered with sheets
of tinned copper.
PHILIBERT DE L'ORME, architect to Henry II, was the original author
of this new method of covering domes, though he never carried it into
execution. As a homage for the discovery, MOLINOS and LEGRAND, the
architects of the cupola, have there placed a medallion with his
portrait. It is said that this experiment was deemed so hazardous,
that the builder could find no person bold enough to strike away the
shores, and was under the necessity of performing that task in
person. To him it was not a fearful one; but the workmen,
unacquainted with the principles of this manner of roofing buildings,
were astonished at the stability of the dome, when the shores were
removed.
No place in Paris could well be more convenient for giving a banquet
than the _Halle au Blé_; twelve or fourteen hundred persons might
here be accommodated at table; and little expense would be required
for decoration, as nothing can be more elegant than the cupola
itself.
Several periodical publications give a statement, more or less exact,
of the quantity of flour lodged in this spacious repository, which is
filled and emptied regularly every four or five days. But these
statements present not the real consumption of Paris, since several
bakers draw their supply directly from the farmers of the environs;
and, besides, a great quantity of loaves are brought into the capital
from some villages, famous for making bread, whose inhabitants come
and retail them to the Parisians.
The annual consumption of bread-corn in this capital has, on an
average, been computed at twenty-four millions of bushels. But it is
not the consumption only that it is useful to know: the most material
point to be ascertained, is the method of providing effectually for
it; so that, from a succession of unfavourable harvests, or any other
cause, the regular supplies may not experience even a momentary
interruption. When it is considered that Paris contains eight or nine
hundred thousand of the human race, it is evident that this branch of
administration requires all the vigilance of the government.
Bread is now reckoned enormously dear, nineteen _sous_ for the loaf
of four pounds; but, during the winter of 1794, the Parisians felt
all the horrors of a real famine. Among other articles of the first
necessity, bread was then so scarce, that long ranks of people were
formed at the doors of the bakers' shops, each waiting in turn to
receive a scanty portion of two ounces.
The consumption of flour here is considerably increased by the
immense number of dogs, cats, monkies, parrots, and other birds, kept
by persons of every class, and fed chiefly on bread and biscuit.
No poor devil that has not in his miserable lodging a dog to keep him
company: not being able to find a friend among his own species, he
seeks one in the brute creation. A pauper of this description, who
shared his daily bread with his faithful companion, being urged to
part with an animal that cost him so much to maintain: "Part with
him!" rejoined he; "who then shall I get to love me?"
Near the _Halle au Blé_, stands a large fluted pillar of the Doric
order, which formerly belonged to the _Hôtel de Soissons_, and served
as an observatory to Catherine de Medicis. In the inside, is a
winding stair-case, leading to the top, whither that diabolical woman
used frequently to ascend, accompanied by astrologers, and there
perform several mysterious ceremonies, in order to discover futurity
in the stars. She wore on her stomach a skin of parchment, strewn
with figures, letters, and characters of different colours; which
skin she was persuaded had the virtue of insuring her from any
attempt against her person.
Much about that period, 1572, there were reckoned, in Paris alone, no
less than thirty thousand astrologers. At the present day, the
ambulating magicians frequent the _Old Boulevards_, and there tell
fortunes for three or four _sous_; while those persons that value
science according to the price set on it, disdaining these two-penny
conjurers, repair to fortune-tellers of a superior class, who take
from three to six francs, and more, when the opportunity offers. The
TROPHONIUS of Paris is Citizen Martin, who lives at N° 1773 _Rue
d'Anjou_: the PHEMONOË is Madame Villeneuve, _Rue de l'Antechrist_.
Formerly, none but courtesans here drew the cards; now, almost every
female, without exception, has recourse to them. Many a fine lady
even conceives herself to be sufficiently mistress of the art to tell
her own fortune; and some think they are so skilled in reading
futurity in the cards, that they dare not venture to draw them for
themselves, for fear of discovering some untoward event.
This rage of astrology and fortune-telling is a disease which
peculiarly affects weak intellects, ruled by ignorance, or afflicted
by adversity. In the future, such persons seek a mitigation of the
present; and the illusive enjoyments of the mind make them almost
forget the real sufferings of the body. According to Pope,
"Hope springs eternal in the human breast,
Man never _is_, but always _to be_ blest."
At the foot of the above pillar, the only one of the sort in Paris,
is erected a handsome fountain, which furnishes water from the Seine.
At two-thirds of its height is a dial of a singular kind, which marks
the precise hour at every period of the day, and in all seasons. It
is the invention of Father Pingré, who was a regular canon of St.
Geneviève, and member of the _ci-devant_ Academy of Sciences.
While we are in this quarter, let us avail ourselves of the moment;
and, proceeding from the _Halle au Blé_ along the _Rue Oblin_,
examine the