The Cholera in Paris.--Its frightful ravages.--Desertion of the city--My
determination to remain.--Deaths in the higher classes.--Unexpected
arrival and retreat.--Praiseworthy conduct of the Authorities.--The
Cholera caricatured!--Invitation from an English General.--Atmospherical
appearance denoting the arrival of the Cholera.--Lord Robert
Fitzgerald.--Dinner at the house of Madame de B----.
Dear ----,
We have had little to occupy us since my last letter, but the cholera,
which alighted in the heart of this great and crowded metropolis like a
bomb. Since the excursion on the frontiers last year, and our success in
escaping the quarantine, I had thought little of this scourge, until the
subject was introduced at my own table by a medical man who was among
the guests. He cautiously informed us that there were unpleasant
conjectures among the faculty on the subject, and that he was fearful
Paris was not to go unscathed. When apart, he privately added, that he
had actually seen a case, which he could impute to no other disease but
that of Asiatic cholera.
The next day a few dark hints were given in the journals, and, with
frightful rapidity, reports followed that raised the daily deaths to
near a thousand. The change in the appearance of the town was magical,
for the strangers generally fled, while most of the _habitués_ of the
streets in our immediate vicinity were soon numbered with the dead.
There was a succession of apple-women seated at the corners, between the
Rue St. Dominique and the Pont Royal, with whose faces I had become
intimate in the course of P----'s traffic, as we passed to and fro,
between the hotel and the Tuileries. Every one of these disappeared; the
last, I was told, dropping from her chair, and dying before those who
came to her aid had reached the nearest hospital.
One case, among multitudes, will serve to give you a faint idea of the
situation of Paris, at this moment of severe affliction. Returning from
a walk through the deserted streets one morning, I saw a small
collection of people around the _porte-cochère_ of our hotel. A
matchseller had been seized with the disease, at the gate, and was then
sustained on one of the stone seats, which are commonly used by the
servants. I had her carried info the court, and made such applications
as had been recommended by the faculty. The patient was a robust woman
of middle age, accompanied by her mother, both having come in from a
distant village, to raise a few sous by selling matches. In making the
applications, I had occasion to observe the means by which these poor
people sustain life. Their food consisted of fragments of hard dried
bread, that had been begged, or bought, in the course of their progress.
While two or three of us were busied about the daughter, the mother
knelt on the pavement, and, with streaming eyes, prayed for her child,
for us, and for herself. There was something indescribably touching in
this display of strong natural ties, between those who were plunged so
deep in misery. A piece of five francs was put into the hands of the old
woman, but, though she blessed the donor, her look was not averted an
instant from the agony depicted in her daughter's face, nor did she
appear conscious of what she possessed, a moment after. The carriers
from the hospital bore the sick woman away, and the mother promised to
return, in a day or two, to let me know the result. Not appearing, an
inquiry was made at the hospital, and the answer was, that they were
both dead!
In this manner some ten or fifteen thousand were swept away in a few
weeks. Not only hotels, but, in some instances, nearly whole streets
were depopulated. As every one fled, who could with convenience or
propriety quit the town, you may feel surprised that we chose to remain.
When the deaths increased to eight or nine hundred a day, and our own
quarter began to be visited, I felt it to be a duty to those under my
charge, to retire to some of the places without the limits of the
disease. The trunks were packed, the carriage was in the court, and my
passports were signed, when A---- was suddenly taken ill. Although the
disease was not the cholera, I began to calculate the chances of any one
of us being seized, myself for instance, in one of the villages of the
environs, and the helpless condition of a family of females in a foreign
country, under such circumstances. The result was a determination to
remain, and to trust to Providence. We have consequently staid in our
apartments through it all, although two slight cases have occurred in
the hotel, and hundreds around it.
The manner in which individuals known to us have vanished, as it were,
from before our eyes, has been shockingly sudden. To-day the report may
be that the milkman is gone; yesterday it was the butcher's boy; the
day before the poulterer, and presently a new servant appears with a
message from a friend, and on inquiring for his predecessor, we learn
that he is dead. Ten or fifteen cases of this sort have occurred among
those with whom we are in constant and immediate connexion.
The deaths in the higher classes, at first, were comparatively few, but
of late several of the most distinguished men of France have been
seized. Among them are M. Perier, the prime minister, and the General
Lamarque. Prince Castelcicala, too, the Neapolitan Ambassador, is dead,
in our neighbourhood; as, indeed, are very many others. There is one
short street quite near us, out of which, it is said, between seventy
and eighty dead have been carried. The situation of all this faubourg is
low, and that of the street particularly so.
Dr. S----, of North Carolina, who, with several other young physicians,
has done credit to himself by his self-devotion and application, brought
in the report of the appearance of things, once or twice a week, judging
of the state of the disease more from the aspect of the hospitals, than
from the published returns, which are necessarily and, perhaps,
designedly, imperfect. He thinks of the first hundred that were admitted
at the Hotel Dieu, all but one died, and that one he does not think was
a case of Asiatic cholera at all.
All this time, the more frequented streets of Paris presented, in the
height of the usual season too, the most deserted aspect. I have
frequently walked on the terrace of the Tuileries when there were not a
dozen others in the whole garden, and driven from my own hotel in the
Rue St. Dominique to the Place Vendôme without meeting half a dozen
vehicles, including _fiacres_ and _cabriolets de place_.
I was returning one day from the Rue de la Paix, on foot, during the
height of the disease, at the time when this gay and magnificent part of
the town looked peculiarly deserted. There was scarcely a soul in the
street but the _laquais de place_, the _garçons_, and the chambermaids
of the public hotels, that abound in this quarter. These were at the
gateways, with folded arms, a picture in themselves of the altered
condition of the town. Two travelling carriages drove in from the Rue de
Rivoli, and there was at once a stir among those who are so completely
dependent on travellers for their bread. "_On part_" was, at first, the
common and mournful call from one group to another, until the mud on the
carriage-wheels caught the attention of some one, who cried out "_On
arrive_!" The appearance of the strangers under such circumstances,
seemed to act like a charm. I felt no little surprise at seeing them,
and more, when a hand beckoned to me from a carriage window. It was Mr.
H----, of New York, an old schoolfellow, and a friend of whom we had
seen a good deal during our travels in Europe. He had just come from
England, with his family, and appeared astonished to find Paris so
deserted. He told me that Mr. Van Buren was in the other carriage. He
had chosen an unfortunate moment for his visit. I went to see the H----s
next morning, and it was arranged that they should come and pass the
succeeding day in the Rue St. Dominique; but they disappointed us. The
day following I got a letter from H----, dated Amiens, written on his
way to England! They had been imprudent in coming, and wise in hurrying
away from the frightful scene. I believe that Mr. Van Buren remained but
a day or two.
Although most of our acquaintances quitted the town, a few thought it
safer to remain in their own comfortable apartments, than to run the
hazards of travelling; for, in a short time, most of the north of France
was suffering under the same grievous affliction. The authorities
conducted themselves well, and there have been very many instances of
noble self-devotion, on the part of private individuals, the French
character never appearing to better advantage. In this respect,
notwithstanding the general impression to the contrary, I am inclined
to believe, after a good deal of inquiry, that Paris has acquitted
itself better than London. The French, certainly, are less disposed, as
a rule, to "hide their light under a bushel," than most other people;
but, on the spot and a looker-on, my respect for their feelings and
philanthropy has been greatly raised by their conduct during this
terrible calamity.
Notwithstanding the horror of the disease, some of the more prominent
traits of national character have shown themselves lately. Among other
things, the artists have taken to caricaturing the cholera! One gets to
be so hardened by exposure, as to be able to laugh at even these proofs
of moral obtuseness. Odd enough traits of character are developed by
seeing men under such trying circumstances. During one of the worst
periods of the disease, I met a countryman in the street, who, though
otherwise a clever man, has the weakness to think the democracy of
America its greatest blot. I asked him why he remained in Paris, having
no family, nor any sufficient inducement? "Oh," said he, "it is a
disease that only kills the rabble: I feel no concern--do you?" I told
him that, under my peculiar circumstances, I felt a great deal of
uneasiness, though not enough to make an unreflecting flight. A few days
afterwards I missed him, and, on inquiry, learned that he had fled. Some
_nobleman_ had died in our faubourg, when he and one of a fellow
feeling, finding a taint "between the wind and their nobility,"
forthwith beat a retreat!
During the height of the malady, an old English general officer, who had
served in India, and who was now residing near us, sent me an invitation
to dinner. Tired of seeing no one, I went. Here everything was as
tranquil as if we were living in the purest atmosphere in Europe. Sir
----, my host, observed that he had got seasoned in India, and that he
believed _good living_ one of the best preventives against the disease.
The Count de ---- came in just before dinner was announced, and
whispered to me that some twelve or fifteen hundred had been buried the
previous day, although less than a thousand had been reported. This
gentleman told a queer anecdote, which he said came from very
respectable authority, and which he gave as he had heard it. About ten
days before the cholera appeared, a friend of his had accompanied one of
the Polish generals, who are now in Paris, a short distance into the
country to dine. On quitting the house, the Pole stopped to gaze
intently at the horizon. His companion inquired what he saw, when,
pointing to a hazy appearance in the atmosphere, of rather an unusual
kind, the other said, "You will have the cholera here in less than ten
days; such appearances always preceded it in the North." As M. de ----
observed, "I tell it as I heard it."
Sir ---- did me the favour, on that occasion, to introduce me to a mild
gentleman-like old man, who greatly resembled one of the quiet old
school of our own, which is so fast disappearing before the bustling,
fussy, money-getting race of the day. It was Lord Robert Fitzgerald, a
brother of the unfortunate Lord Edward, and the brother of whom he so
pleasantly speaks in his natural and amiable letters, as "Plenipo Bob."
This gentleman is since dead, having, as I hear, fallen a victim to the
cholera.
I went to one other dinner, during this scene of destruction, given by
Madame de B----, a woman who has so much vogue, as to assemble, in her
house, people of the most conflicting opinions and opposite characters.
On this occasion, I was surprised to hear from Marshal ----, one of the
guests, that many believe the cholera to be contagious. That such an
opinion should prevail among the mass, was natural enough, but I was not
prepared to hear it from so high a quarter.
A gentleman mentioned, at this dinner, that the destruction among the
porters had been fearful. A friend of his was the proprietor of five
hotels, and the porters of all are dead!