without any other Retinue than what she had during her whole Journey.
Being in an Undress, she went strait to her Apartment, and sat down to
the Toilet; when she was dress'd, Word was brought to her, that the King
was arriv'd; who, in a few Moments after, made his Appearance, in a Mantle
of Gold Brocade, trimm'd with _Spanish_ Point of Gold, the whole enrich'd
with Diamonds. His Majesty, having saluted the Queen, walk'd the same
Instant towards the Chapel, and the Queen follow'd immediately after him,
supported by the Dukes of _Orleans_ and _Bourbon_: She was dress'd in a
Blue Velvet Gown, seeded with Fleurs-de-Lys of Gold; her Petticoat, and
the Tail of her Gown, were fac'd with Ermin, and adorned with Diamonds;
and her Royal Mantle, which was like her Gown, was held up by the
Princesses of the Blood. She had the Royal Crown on her Head; and 'tis
certain, that every thing about her was truly magnificent, and made a very
grand Appearance. The Chapel was adorn'd with a rich Suit of Hangings, of
blue Velvet, imbroider'd with Gold. The Elector of _Cologne_, the
Electoral Prince of _Bavaria_, now Elector, the Duke _Ferdinand_, and the
Bishop of _Freisingen_ and _Ratisbon_, were present _incognito_ at the
Ceremony. The Cardinal _de Rohan_ gave their Majesties the Nuptial
Benediction. The Queen happening to be out of Order during the Mass, the
Duke of _Bourbon_, who perceiv'd it, gave her some Balm-water, by which
her Majesty found immediate Relief.
After Mass was ended, they return'd in great Ceremony to the Queen's
Apartment; and soon after was the Royal Feast, when the Princes and
Princesses din'd with their Majesties. All this was very fine, but the
Room was so much too small, that they who were in it were ready to be
smother'd, and three-fourths of the People could not get in.
When the Feast was over, their Majesties chang'd their Apparel, and took
an Airing with the Royal Family in a Calash, round the great Canal,
preceded by all the Court Nobility, and the Officers of the King's
Houshold, and follow'd by the Ladies, in Coaches drawn each by Six Horses.
But 'tis certain, that in the whole, there was nothing more magnificent
than the Number of the Persons, and their Cloaths; for as to their
Equipages, they were very ordinary; there was not so much as one new
Coach, the Liveries were old, and the Nobility very sorrily mounted.
When the King and Queen were return'd to the Palace, there was a
Drawing-room; after which, their Majesties supp'd with the Princesses of
the Blood; and during the Supper, there was a Concert. When their
Majesties arose from Table, they went to the Windows, and saw the
Firework, and the Illumination in the Park; which was very much admir'd,
but really appear'd trifling to us _Germans_, who are accustom'd to see
Fireworks that cost immense Sums, and which are executed in a Manner that
surpasses every thing done elsewhere of the Kind. Thus ended all the
Rejoicings upon account of the King's Marriage. They say there were great
Illuminations and Bonfires also at _Paris_; but as I was at
_Fontainebleau_, I did not see them. 'Tis certain tho', that how much
soever the _French_ were pleas'd with the Marriage of their King, they
were in no very great Humour to rejoice at a Time when a Pound of Bread
cost eleven Sols, and few were they that had a Belly-full. 'Tis no
laughing Matter, when the Guts grumble. But I leave this long Digression,
and resume the Thread of my Narrative, by proceeding with the Description
of _Fontainebleau_.
This Royal Palace is accompanied with a fine Park, which, tho' not near so
much adorned as the Park of _Versailles_, has remarkable Beauties, not to
be met with in that. The great Canal is superb, and, generally speaking,
the Palace of _Fontainebleau_, with all that environs it, has much more of
the Air of a Royal Palace, than _Versailles_ and _Marly_. The Village or
Town of _Fontainebleau_, for I know not which to call it, is very well
built. Most of the Lords have great Houses here, where they put their
Equipages and Domesticks; it being the Custom at the Court of _France_,
for every Lord that belongs to the Court to be lodg'd in the King's
Palace; and the _French_ are so infatuated with this Practice, that a
Nobleman had rather be lodg'd in a Manger at Court, than in an Apartment
ever so commodious and magnificent, in his House at _Versailles_ and
_Fontainebleau_.
The Road from _Fontainebleau_ to _Paris_ is pav'd all the Way. There are a
great many fine Houses on it, particularly PETITBOURG, belonging to the
Duke _d'Antin_, to whom it came by Succession, from his Mother, the
Marchioness _Montespan_. Very great Buildings have been erected there
within these few Years, which have the Appearance of Magnificence and
Grandeur; not to mention the rich Furniture, the Pleasures of the Park,
and several other Things, so ingeniously chose, and so beautifully
dispos'd, as are infinitely delightful.
CHOISY, which belongs to the first Princess Dowager of _Conti_, Daughter
of _Lewis_ XIV. by Mademoiselle _de la Valiere_, is, to my thinking, one
of the finest Houses in the Kingdom. 'Tis built intirely in the modern
Taste, and stands by the River Side. The Apartments are richly adorn'd.
The Garden which belongs to it is spacious, and several Alleys are cut
out in it, which yield very fine Walks, and render _Choisy_ an inchanting
Place. Were I to mention all the other fine Houses to you that are upon
the Road, I should never have done. If you consult the _Delices de la
France_, you will find a large Account of all those Houses, as well as of
their Names and Situation. For my part, my Head akes so much at this
Instant, that 'tis impossible for me to add any more: But in a few Days,
you shall hear farther from me; and then I will give you some Account of
_Paris_: In the meantime, believe me to be always Yours intirely, _&c._
[Illustration]
LETTER XXXIX.
_SIR_, _Paris, April 1, 1732._
Don't imagine, that I am going to give you an exact Description of the
City of PARIS; for that would be an Undertaking to as little Purpose, as
it is beyond my Ability. PARIS has been so fully describ'd, and is so much
talk'd of, that most People know what Sort of Place it is, though they
have never seen it. Several Authors are so divided about the Antiquity of
PARIS, that I can say nothing positive to you upon this Head. _Cæsar_, in
his Commentaries, speaks very much in its Favour, and says, that in his
Time, this City was call'd _Lutetia_. The Learned differ also about the
Origin of this[41]Name; but I shall leave them to dispute this Matter as
long as they please, and assure them, that I am not concerned in their
Quarrel.
According to Father _Daniel_, PARIS was the Capital City of _France_, in
the Reign of _Clovis_, about the Year 507. But even then, PARIS was a
Place of very little Consequence; and, if it be duly consider'd, could not
be rank'd among the great Towns, before the Reign of _Philip Augustus_;
That Prince made it his Endeavour to embellish it, and added Buildings to
it, which at that Time were reckon'd very magnificent. Since his Reign,
PARIS has always been the Seat of the Kings, and has been continually
increasing in Grandeur and Beauty. But none of its Kings has contributed
so much to the Magnificence of PARIS, as the Prince who least resided in
it, I mean _Lewis_ XIV. who caus'd such Structures to be rais'd in it, as
are worthy of the greatest Monarch in the World. Of some of these Works, I
may hereafter give you a more particular Account.
The _French_ pretend, that no City in _Europe_ contains so many
Inhabitants as PARIS; but the _English_ say, the most populous is
_London_; yet, without the least Hesitation, I determine it for the latter
of the two Rivals. My Reason for it is this: At PARIS, eighteen or twenty
thousand People die every Year, and at _London_ twenty-three or
twenty-four thousand; tho' I don't dispute, but PARIS seems more populous:
For in the latter, every body is to be seen in the Streets, either on Foot
or in Coaches; whereas at _London_, Passengers are continually going up
and down the _Thames_; which River is seldom without carrying forty or
fifty thousand People, who, if diffus'd in the Streets, would make them
look fuller of People than those of PARIS. Besides, what makes the Capital
of _France_ appear to be more populous, is, that it has more Coaches and
Carts; whereas at _London_, one always sees Goods going up or down the
River; which is the Reason, that Carts are not so much in Use there: And
most of the Ladies, instead of Coaches, ride in Sedans. But a _Frenchman_
will tell me, you shall see five or six Families in one House at PARIS;
whereas at _London_, they are seldom two. To this I shall answer, that
'tis true, there are more Lodgers in the Houses of PARIS; but this stands
for nothing, and only proves, that there are more Houses at _London_. At
PARIS, there are many Hôtels, or great Houses, Convents, large Gardens,
public Squares, Quays, and a River that runs through the Middle; all which
takes up a great deal of Ground; and in several of the Suburbs, without
which PARIS itself is but a little Place, there are intire Marshes. But at
_London_,'tis quite otherwise, such Hôtels are uncommon there, and few
Houses there have Courts to them. They are all very much pent up, and many
a House at _London_ is not so big as the Halls in a great many of the
Hôtels at PARIS.
But what matters it, whether _London_ is bigger or less than PARIS? I
shall now speak of the latter, not as the biggest, but as the most
beautiful City in _Europe_. 'Tis reckon'd, there are in PARIS nine
hundred Streets, with above twenty thousand Houses, of which four thousand
have great Gates, and Courts to turn Coaches in. The Number of Inhabitants
amounts to above eighty thousand; in which must be reckon'd one hundred
and fifty thousand Domestics. There are at least twenty thousand Coaches,
and near one hundred and twenty thousand Horses for Carriages of all
Sorts, of which, one Year with another, ten thousand die. In fine, the
very Expence of the Lanthorns, which are lighted nine Months in the Year,
is computed at two hundred thousand Crowns at least. The common Revenues
which the City of PARIS produces, are said to amount at least to
twenty-eight Millions of Livres; a Sum, which, I believe, is not rais'd by
some Kingdoms.
PARIS enjoys all the Prerogatives that can be enjoy'd by the Capital of a
powerful Kingdom. This City has not only the Reputation of being the
Residence of Kings, but is the Seat of an Archbishop, a Parliament, an
University, an Intendant, a Governor, and of all the Sovereign Courts in
the Government. Its Metropolitan Church, which was heretofore no more than
the See of a Bishop, Suffragan to the Archbishop of _Sens_, is dedicated
to the Virgin _Mary_. St. _Denys_, who liv'd in the first Ages of
Christianity, is own'd to be its Founder, or at least its first Bishop.
Its first Archbishop was _Francis de Gondy_, who obtain'd that Dignity by
a Bull of Pope _Gregory_ XV. in 1622. since which Time there have been
seven Archbishops. Whoever is the Archbishop, has the Title of Duke of St.
_Cloud_, and in that Quality is both Duke and Peer of _France_. The
present Archbishop's Name is _N. N. de Vintimille_ of the Counts _du Luc_.
He succeeded _Lewis-Antony_, Cardinal _de Noailles_, and finds his Diocese
as disobedient to his Mandates, as it was to those of his Predecessor.
The good Prelate does all he can, to bring back his[42]stray'd Sheep; but
it seems as if most of the _Parisians_ know not what they would be at; and
indeed the greatest Number dispute about Matters, which they don't
understand. I find the Talk of all PARIS engross'd by two grand Subjects;
I mean grand for the _Parisians_, and, if I may venture to say it, for the
_French_ in general: For, to be plain, 'tis owing to the Want of something
else to talk of during a long Peace, that they busy themselves very
seriously about Things, which at other Times they would think unworthy of
their Attention. The one is the Affair of Father _Girard_ and _la
Cadiere_; the other, the pretended Miracles of the Abbé _Paris_. There is
nothing so base, with which Knavery and a furious Zeal can inspire a
Party, but what has been said and written on these Subjects. The Enemies
of the _Jesuits_ have[43]invented, that Father _John Baptist Girard_, a
Native of _Dole_ in _Franche Comté_, debauch'd one _la Cadiere_, who came
to him for Confession; they prevail'd on the young Woman to accuse him of
Crimes, the very Idea of which is shocking, and which the most resolute
Villain would not dare perhaps to be guilty of, much less Father _Girard_;
who, till accus'd of this Wickedness, had always _pass'd_ for an honest
Man, whose Conduct and Morals had been edifying in Places where he had
been, and particularly at _Toulon_, where nevertheless he is said to have
committed the most horrid Enormities. But _la Cadiere_ has recanted; and
the Parlement of _Aix_, before whom the Cause was pleaded, has declar'd
Father _Girard_ innocent. Yet the _Jansenists_ exclaim, and wish that the
King would cause the Members of that Parlement to be hang'd up, because
they could not in Conscience bring in Father _Girard_ guilty.
The following _Epigram_ is lately publish'd upon that Parlement:
_Pour avoir immolé le Fils du Tout-Puissant
+Pilate+ moins que vous nous parut detestable;
Il ne reçût point d'or pour punir l'Innocent,
Mais vous en recevez pour sauver le coupable._
_i. e._
_Pilate_, tho' he sacrific'd the Son of the Almighty, is even less
detestable in our Eyes than you; for he receiv'd no Gold to punish the
Innocent, but you take it to save the Guilty.
Or thus:
_Of Judges that in Judgment sit,
Whether incurs most Banns,
He that for Gold doth Vice acquit,
Or Virtue +gratis+ damns?_
_+Pilate+, who sacrific'd the Son
Of the Almighty Lord,
Because no Golden Bribe he won,
Is less than you abhorr'd._
Father _Girard_'s Adventure calls to my Mind a great Scandal of this
Nature, that happen'd in the fourth Century, on Occasion of a Lady's
Confession to a Deacon; which obliged the Patriarch _Nectarius_ to abolish
Auricular Confession throughout the _East_; as may be seen in the fourth
Tome of _Fleuri_'s _Ecclesiastical History_. This Author, in his Sixteenth
Tome, says, that in the twelfth Century there were Abbesses in _Spain_,
who preach'd, gave Blessings, and confessed Persons of both Sexes. If this
Practice was re-establish'd, there would be no Room to fear such Disorders
and Scandals as have happen'd in _Provence_.
The second Topic, which takes up a great deal of the _Parisians_
Conversation, is the pretended Miracles of the Sieur _Paris_, to whose
Tomb People flock as much as they could be suppos'd to do to the _Holy
Sepulchre_ itself. Curiosity drew me thither as well as others; and I
found such a vast Crowd of People, that 'twas with much ado I could get to
the Stone which covers the Saint of the Populace. While I was looking at
this Tombstone, I heard 'em cry behind, _Stand by, make Room there_; so
that I thought some Prince of the Blood was coming; but 'twas no more than
a mean-looking Fellow, who, with a very contrite Air, went and stretch'd
himself on the Tomb; where he had not lain many Moments, but I saw him
turn up the Whites of his Eyes, grind his Teeth, foam at the Mouth, and
twist his Body into such Postures, that he look'd more like one that had
the Devil in him, than the Favourite of a Saint. These Agitations lasted
as long as the Man had any Strength; after which he was carry'd off, and
I assure you, that when he was taken from the Tomb, he had a much more
sickly Look than when he came to it. Nevertheless the People bawl'd out,
_A Miracle!_ and I even heard it said, _Who can doubt one Moment, after so
manifest a Cure as this, that +Paris+ is a Saint!_
Such Miracles, as this that I have now related to you, are work'd here
every Day: One can't set a Foot into a House, without being entertain'd
with some new Story plac'd to the Accompt of the Abbé _Paris_; yet I
protest, that not one single Miracle has been prov'd: and M. _Herault_,
the Lieutenant-General of the Police, to whom all these Miracles are
reported, said, in my Hearing, that there was not one of them true; that
'twas a palpable Delusion; and that 'twas only tolerated, the better to
trace it up to its Source, and to undeceive the Populace; which, I
believe, will be no easy Matter, they are so much prepossess'd in Favour
of their Saint. The only Way would be for the Pope to canonise the Sieur
_Paris_, and then I am persuaded, that all the Devotees of this new Saint
wou'd abandon him, rather than be in the Holy Father's Mess. But here I
leave both Father _Girard_ and the Abbé _Paris_, though perhaps I shall
find an Opportunity of discovering all that I may hear of them to you,
when I think it worthy of your Regard; but I shall be far from troubling
you with every impertinent Tale that is reread about them; for I verily
believe, that all the Songs and Verses that are made upon them wou'd form
several Volumes: And it must be expected this Humour will last, till
something new starts up to drown both these Subjects of present
Conversation. I own to you, that I am very much in Pain to think what the
_French_ can have to amuse them after this is over; for their Genius is
such, that it must have something to work upon, tho' 'tis happy for them
that a mere Nothing suffices, and that such Nothing is always treated by
them as a serious Affair, and proves to them an inexhaustible Fund of
Something.
You ask me, how I employ my Time here? which is a Question that is not
very soon answer'd. My Amusements are of such various Kinds, that, to be
plain with you, I find myself at a loss to account for them. I should
often be very much puzzled to prove an _alibi_ of two Days. This Country
is my Centre, and PARIS is to me the Spring of Youth. Never was any
Reflection more mortifying to me, than the Thought that I am not in a
Condition to fix my Habitation here; for tho' I find Faults in the
_French_, as well as in all other Nations, yet I acknowledge they have a
thousand good Qualities; and I think them much more amiable at home than
they are abroad, where, be a Man ever so much prepossess'd in their Favour
upon other Accounts, he is surfeited with their eternal Criticisms, and to
hear them incessantly remarking, _They don't do so at +Paris+. You don't
see this in +France+_. Here they are polite, good-natur'd, humane, civil
and engaging; and a Foreigner, who can bring himself ever so little into
their Way of Thinking, Acting, and Speaking, will always be sorry to leave
them.
But I am not about giving you the Character of the _French_; what I am now
to acquaint you with is, how I live with them. In a very irregular Course
of Life, I aim at a certain Regularity: I rise very late, because I don't
go to Bed till Two or Three o'Clock in the Morning: When I am dress'd, I
go to some Cabinet of Curiosities, some Library, or to some Structure or
other, which, tho' I have seen perhaps an hundred times, I revisit with
Pleasure, because I always find some new Beauty in it. Such are the Hôtel
or Hospital of the _Invalids_, founded and built by _Lewis_ XIV. _Val de
Grace_, the Church which is the Repositary of the Hearts and Bowels of the
Kings and Princes of the Royal Family, and was founded by _Anne_ of
_Austria_, Mother to _Lewis_ XIV. the Choir of _Notre Dame_, adorn'd with
Marble and Brass by _Lewis_ XIV. to fulfill a Vow made by King _Lewis_
XIII. his Father; the _Louvre_, with all the Beauties it contains; and, in
fine, a Number of other stately Fabrics, which I don't mention or describe
to you, because a thousand Authors have already given a better Account of
them, than I am able to do. After having thus saunter'd away two or three
Hours, I return home to Dinner; for I rarely dine abroad: When I have
din'd, if I am alone, I read for an Hour or two; after which I go out,
either to make Visits, or else to take the Air. I often go to their Plays,
not only because I have a Taste that way, but to avoid Gaming; for you
can't go into a House, but they bring out the Cards. After the Comedy is
over, which I am forc'd, whether I will or not, to prefer to the Opera, I
go to some House, where there's no saying nay, but I must make one at
Quadrille, to ease me of my Money; for I know not what 'tis to win. I am
entertain'd with a good Supper, and then I join in a second Party at
Quadrille, and sometimes in a third; and go home at three o'Clock in the
Morning, with an empty Pocket.
This Itch for Gaming, which has infected the Generality of the _French_,
is look'd upon as one of the Plagues of the Nation. I can't imagine how
'tis possible for People, who can scarce stay a Quarter of an Hour in one
Place, but are generally restless where-ever they are, to sit five or six
Hours together in cutting and shuffling the Cards. 'Tis however a
necessary Evil, especially for a Foreigner, who must otherwise make a very
silly Figure, till he is quite initiated in the Customs of the Country.
The Ladies say of a Man who does not play, that he is a useless Piece of
Lumber; and the most flaming Lovers cease to make Love, as soon as Cards
are brought upon the Carpet.
There are some Houses however, where this Passion for Gaming is not quite
so prevalent; 'tis said too, that the Lawyers Houses are not so liable to
the Contagion; but I own, I am not conversant enough with them to know the
Difference. 'Tis certain, that at Court they play deeper than any-where,
and very many of the Nobility have impair'd their Fortunes, for the sake
of having the Honour to be one of a Party with the King. His Majesty
commonly plays at Lansquenet; the Party consists of twelve Cutters, who
set a _Lewis d'Or_ upon the Card. The King, and the principal Gamesters,
as the Count _de Tholouse_, the Duke _d'Antin_, the Duke _de Grammont_,
and the like, set two, and sometimes four _Lewis d'Ors_ upon a Stake. The
King is reckon'd to have the best Luck of all that play in the Queen's
Apartment: Any body that is well dress'd is admitted to make one of the
Company, which forms a great Court, tho' a mix'd Assembly. All the Ladies
sit round the Gaming-table, and the Men stand. The _French_ say, that
Gaming sets every body upon a Level. There's one _S. Remi_, who had been a
Lacquey first to the Marshal _d'Estrée_'s Lady, and then to the Duke of
_Bourbon_, who preferr'd him to be his _Valet de Chambre_, and at the
Queen's Arrival gave him a Post in her Majesty's Houshold, which he held
at the same time that he officiated as the Duke's _Valet de Chambre_: I
have seen this Man raise or fall the Mirth of the King's Company at
Pleasure; 'tis true, he does not cut; but he is at every Card, and makes
very good Pastime. At _Fontainebleau_, I heard him one Day bet the King
twenty _Lewis d'Ors_, upon his own Card against his Majesty's. The King
answer'd coolly, _No, Marquis_; which is a Nickname that his Majefty has
given him, and may nevertheless be transmitted to the Posterity of this
_S. Remi_, who is moreover Fop enough to be a Marquis.
This Medley of People at Play has been the Custom in _France_ at all
times. I remember to have heard the late Mother of the Regent say, That
when she went upon a time from _Versailles_, where she resided with the
King, to see her Husband, _Lewis_ XIV's Brother, who was gone to spend a
few Days at St. _Cloud_, she found him playing at Lansquenet with a dozen
Cutters, of whom she knew but two; and when the Game was out, she ask'd
her Husband, who the People were that he had been playing with: _They are
very honest Fellows_, reply'd the Prince, _good substantial Tradesmen of
+Paris+, who play well, and for a great deal of Money_. The old Lady gave
us moreover to understand, that she had not been at that time long in
_France_, and that she was so vex'd to find her Husband in such Company,
that she cou'd not forbear to upbraid him for it; but her Husband turn'd
it all off with a Laugh, and made her Answer, _That she had still a Spice
of the +German+ Haughtiness, but that it would wear off in Time_.