Over the dial is a gilt group, representing Jesus Christ and the
Samaritan woman near Jacob's well, pourtrayed by a basin into which
falls a sheet of water issuing from a shell above. Under the basin is
the following inscription:
_Fons Hortorum
Puteus aquarum viventium._
These words of the Gospel are here not unaptly applied to the
destination of this building, which is to furnish water to the garden
of the _Tuileries_, whose basins were not, on that account, the less
dry half the year. The water is raised by means of a pump, and
afterwards distributed, by several conduits, to the _Louvre_ and the
_Palais du Tribunat_, as well as to the _Tuileries_.
In the middle, and above the arch, is a superstructure of timber-work
faced with gilt lead, where are the bells of the clock and those of
chimes, which ought to play every half-hour.
This tasteless edifice interrupts the view in every direction and as
it is far from being an ornament to the _Pont Neuf_, no one could now
regret its entire removal. Under the old _régime_, however, it was
nothing less than a government.
Among the functions of the governor, were included the care of the
clock, which scarcely ever told the hour, and that of the chimes,
which were generally out of order. When these chimes used to delight
Henry IV, it is to be presumed that they were kept in better tune. It
was customary to make them play during all public ceremonies, and
especially when the king passed.
"The _Pont Neuf_, is in the city of Paris what the heart is in the
human body, the centre of motion and circulation: the flux and reflux
of inhabitants and strangers crowd this passage in such a manner,
that, in order to meet persons one is looking for, it is sufficient
to walk here for an hour every day. Here, the _mouchards_, or spies
of the police, take their station; and, when at the expiration of a
few days, they see not their man, they positively affirm that he is
not in Paris."
Such was the animated picture of the _Pont Neuf_, as drawn by Mercier
in 1788, and such it really was before the revolution. At present,
though this bridge is sometimes thronged with passengers, it presents
not, according to my observation, that almost continual crowd and
bustle for which it was formerly distinguished. No stoppage now from
the press of carriages of any description, no difficulty in advancing
quickly through the concourse of pedestrians. Fruit-women, hucksters,
hawkers, pedlars, indeed, together with ambulating venders of
lottery-tickets, and of _tisane_, crying "_à la fraiche! Qui veut
boire?_" here take their stand as they used, though not in such
numbers.
But the most sensible diminution is among the shoe-blacks, who stand
in the carriage-way, and, with all their implements before them,
range themselves along the edge of the very elevated _trottoir_ or
foot-pavement. The _décrotteurs_ of the _Pont Neuf_ were once reputed
masters of the art: their foresight was equal to their dexterity and
expedition. For the very moderate sum of two _liards_, they enabled
an abbé or a poet to present himself in the gilded apartments of a
dutchess. If it rained, or the rays of the sun were uncommonly
ardent, they put into his hand an umbrella to protect the economy of
his head-dress during the operation. Their great patrons have
disappeared, and, in lieu of a constant succession of customers, the
few _décrotteurs_ who remain at their old-established station, are
idle half the day for want of employment.
These Savoyards generally practise more than one trade, as is
indicated by the _enseigne_ which is affixed, on a short pole, above
their tool-box.
LA FRANCE tond les
chiens coupe les chats
proprement et sa femme
vat en ville et en campagne
Change the name only, and such is, line for line, letter for letter,
the most ordinary style of their _annonce_. It is, however, to be
presumed, that the republican belles have adopted other favourites
instead of dogs and cats; for no longer is seen, as in the days of
royalty, the aspiring or favoured lover carrying his mistress's
lap-dog in the public promenades. In fact, the business of
dog-shearing, &c. seems full as dead in this part of Paris as that
of shoe-cleaning. The _artists_ of the _Pont Neuf_ are, consequently,
chop-fallen; and hilarity which formerly shone on their countenance,
is now succeeded by gloomy sadness.
At the foot of the _Pont Neuf_ on the _Quai de la Féraille_
recruiting-officers used to unfurl their inviting banners, and
neglect nothing that art and cunning could devise to insnare the
ignorant, the idle, and the unwary. The means which they sometimes
employed were no less whimsical than various: the lover of wine was
invited to a public-house, where he might intoxicate himself; the
glutton was tempted by the sight of ready-dressed turkies, fowls,
sausages &c. suspended to a long pole; and the youth, inclined to
libertinism, was seduced by the meretricious allurements of a
well-tutored doxy. To second these manoeuvres, the recruiter
followed the object of his prey with a bag of money, which he
chinked occasionally, crying out "_Qui en veut?_" and, in this
manner, an army of heroes was completed. It is almost superfluous
to add, that the necessity of such stratagems is obviated, by the
present mode of raising soldiers by conscription.
Before we quit the _Pont Neuf_, I must relate to you an adventure
which, in the year 1786, happened to our friend P-----, who is now
abroad, in a situation of considerable trust and emolument. He was,
at that time, a half-pay subaltern in the British army, and visited
Paris, as well from motives of economy as from a desire of acquiring
the French language. Being a tall, fresh-coloured young man, as he
was one day crossing the _Pont Neuf_, he caught the eye of a
recruiting-officer, who followed him from the _Quai de la Féraille_
to a coffee-house, in the _Rue St. Honoré_, which our Englishman
frequented for the sake of reading the London newspapers. The
recruiter, with all the art of a crimp combined with all the
politeness of a courtier, made up to him under pretence of having
relations in England, and endeavoured, by every means in his power,
to insinuate himself into the good graces of his new acquaintance.
P----, by way of sport, encouraged the eagerness of the recruiter,
who lavished on him every sort of civility; peaches in brandy,
together with the choicest refreshments that a Parisian coffee-house
could afford, were offered to him and accepted: but not the smallest
hint was dropped of the motive of all this more than friendly
attention. At length, the recruiter, thinking that he might venture
to break the ice, depicted, in the most glowing colours, the
pleasures and advantages of a military life, and declared ingenuously
that nothing would make him so happy as to have our countryman P----
for his comrade. Without absolutely accepting or rejecting his offer,
P---- begged a little delay in order to consider of the matter, at
the same time hinting that there was; at that moment, a small obstacle
to his inclination. The recruiter, like a pioneer, promised to remove
it, grasped his hand with joy and exultation, and departed, singing a
song of the same import as that of Serjeant Kite:
"Come brave boys, 'tis one to ten,
But we return all gentlemen."
In a few days, the recruiter again met Mr. P---- at his accustomed
rendezvous; when, after treating him with coffee, liqueur, &c. he
came directly to the point, but neglected not to introduce into his
discourse every persuasive allurement. P----, finding himself pushed
home, reminded the recruiter of the obstacle to which he had before
alluded, and, to convince him of its existence, put into his hand His
Britannic Majesty's commission. The astonishment and confusion of the
French recruiter were so great that he was unable to make any reply;
but instantly retired, venting a tremendous ejaculation.
[Footnote 1: By the Plan of Paris, it will be seen that the _Pont
Neuf_ lies at the west point of the Island called _L'Ile du Palais_,
and is, as it were, in the very centre of the capital.]