How to Enjoy Paris in 1842 Part 9

With respect to sculpture, it is so far more encouraged in France than in England, that of course the numbers who profess it are far more numerous in the former country, and there is a great deal of talent to be found amongst the present French sculptors, but perhaps not quite of the highest cla.s.s. I never have seen anything which I considered so beautiful as Bailey's Eve, and I doubt whether there are any of them who could produce a work equal to Gibson, or that could surpa.s.s c.o.c.kerill in the representation of a horse, still most of their statues which have been executed for the government, are certainly better than many of those which have been placed in different parts of London.

There is a great taste for sculptural subjects in general throughout Paris, numbers of houses which have been recently built are adorned with statues, and an immense variety of devices and ornaments of different descriptions, all of which afford employment for the young sculptor; in fact there exists now quite a mania for decoration, and those mansions which still remain of the middle ages present the same predilection for rich carve-work and elaborate ornament which is now revived, and undoubtedly it gives a very picturesque richness to the aspect of a city. As a department of sculpture I certainly must not omit to state to what a high degree the French have wrought the art of casting in bronze, and I am sure I shall be procuring my readers a treat in directing them to the establishment of M. De Braux d'Anglure, No. 8, Rue Castiglione; they will there find an infinite variety of very splendid subjects, some executed with the most exquisite delicacy, others in fine broad ma.s.ses, as animals the size of life, and some equestrian figures of the middle ages after the first masters displaying the full merit of the original designs. But that which is still more interesting is to visit M. De Braux's foundry, and atelier, No. 15, Rue d'Astorg, where he takes a pleasure in explaining the whole process requisite in casting the different objects, and showing them throughout the various stages through which they pa.s.s before they are completed. The French have brought this art to a high perfection, which it appears is facilitated by their having a peculiar sort of sand near Paris (which they cannot find elsewhere), particularly serviceable for the purpose of casting.

The orders which come from England for works in bronze is immense; whilst I was at M. de Braux's he was at work upon a bust of the Duke of Wellington, which was part of what was to be a figure the size of life, destined as a national monument (as M. de Braux understood) for some part of London. The great art which he now practises, is that of casting whole ma.s.ses at once, instead of small bits which were joined together according to the former method. Every amateur of the arts will find the highest gratification in viewing the number of interesting objects which present themselves in various forms at M. de Braux's atelier.

The shopkeepers and proprietors of coffee-houses, restaurants, etc., also have afforded much occupation to artists of moderate talent, having reliefs and paintings introduced upon their walls, that are by no means contemptible, and it is quite an amus.e.m.e.nt, in walking the streets of Paris, to observe to what an extent it is carried; many of the new houses in the most frequented thoroughfares, above the shops, are now so handsome that if they were appropriated for national purposes would be admired as public monuments, some of these may be remarked even in several of the narrow shabby streets, only (as already stated) they are compelled, by the Munic.i.p.ality, to build them a few feet farther back, to give greater width to the street. One of the beauties and attractions of Paris at the present period, is the Pa.s.sages, in which are to be found some of the most splendid a.s.sortments of every article which the most refined luxury can desire; of such a description are the Pa.s.sages des Panoramas, Saumon, Choiseul, Vero-Dodat, Vivienne, Opera and Colbert; in the latter is a Magasin de Nouveaute, styled the Grand Colbert, which peculiarly merits the attention, both of the amateur and the connaisseurs of such merchandise as will be found there displayed.

In Paris there are many establishments of this nature on the most colossal scales, even surpa.s.sing in extent the far famed Waterloo House, but in none is the public more honourably served, or treated with a greater degree of courtesy and attention, than at the Grand Colbert; the taste and discernment with which their stock is selected, does the highest credit to the proprietors, and their premises being arranged and decorated so as to resemble a Moresque temple, as the purchasers behold spread around them in gay profusion all the rich and glowing tints which Cashmere can produce, they may almost fancy that they are in some oriental Bazaar, where the costly manufactures of those climes are displayed for the admiring gaze of the delighted spectator. In the choice of silks is developed the beau ideal of all that the genius, art, and industry of Lyons can effect, which has been selected as regards the tints and designs, with an artistical tact. A great advantage of this establishment is that one partner is French, possessing that degree of taste for which his countrymen are so justly celebrated in all that relates to fancy goods, whilst the other partner is English, partaking of that truly national character which pries deeply into the worth and solidity of every article, before it is presented to the public. Thus far I can speak from experience, having for sixteen years been accustomed to purchase every thing I required at the Grand Colbert, either in linen, drapery, mercery, hosiery, lace, millinery, etc. The premises are entered from two different points, the Rue Vivienne, and the Rue Neuve-des-Pet.i.ts-Champs, of which streets it forms the corner.

The central position adds another recommendation to the stranger, being close to the Palais Royal, in a street communicating with the Bourse, and the most fas.h.i.+onable part of the Boulevards, but a few minutes' walk from all the princ.i.p.al Theatres, at the back of the Royal Library, and in fact in the midst of the most attractive and frequented parts of Paris. Whilst a long range of immense squares of plate gla.s.s not only have an ornamental appearance but have the effect of throwing so powerful a light upon the premises that every possible advantage may be afforded for the examination of the goods.

Just near this spot they are about to open a new street, which will be on the s.p.a.cious and handsome plan of those which have been recently constructed; many others are projected on the same system, and will have a most beneficial effect, in adding to the salubrity of the capital, by clearing away a number of little dirty lanes and alleys, hundreds of which have already been absorbed in the great improvements which have been effected in Paris within my recollection. The extensive projects which are in contemplation for the embellis.h.i.+ng of the city, would cost some hundreds of millions of francs to carry into effect, but could have been executed, had not so large a sum been required for the erection of the fortifications, which are proceeding, if not rapidly, at any rate steadily. Concerning their utility or the policy of such a measure, opinion is much divided, but the majority conceive that such circ.u.mstances as could render them necessary are never likely to arrive, as they consider that by keeping the frontiers always in the best state of defense, there never could be any fear of an army reaching Paris, as when it occurred under Napoleon, it was after the resources of France had been exhausted by a war of upwards of twenty years, an event that in all probability never could happen again, and that the immense outlay of capital might be applied to purposes so much more calculated to promote the welfare of the country. Others contend that supposing France to be a.s.sailed by three armies, and even that she be victorious over two of them, and it be not the case with the third, that force might march on Paris, which might be immediately taken if it were open as at present, whereas if fortified, the resistance it would be enabled to make would give time for either of the victorious armies to come to its relief.

Whilst a third party pretend that the fortifications are intended more to operate against Paris than in its defence; that in case of any formidable popular commotion the surrounding cannon can be pointed against the city and inhabitants, and any refractory bands that might be disposed to pour in from the province to join the factious could be effectually prevented entering Paris. Whatever may be the different opinions on the subject, every one must regret such a tremendous expense for almost a visionary object, whilst there is so much capital and labour required for increasing the facilities of communication by means of improved roads, ca.n.a.ls, or railways from the opposite points of the kingdom.

With respect to the ameliorations which have already been effected in Paris, one may say that wonders have been accomplished, particularly in regard to cleansing and paving the streets, and in all possible cases opening and widening every available spot of ground, whereby a freer air could be admitted. I cannot conceive how people formerly could exist in such dirty holes emitting horrible odours, of which there still remain too many specimens, wherein even the physical appearance of persons one would imagine certainly must be affected, yet I have often remarked in the midst of the narrowest and most unsightly looking streets of Paris, numbers of persons with fresh colours and having a most healthy appearance; it is true that there are now open s.p.a.ces in all quarters, from which a person cannot live more than about two hundred yards, the Boulevards encircling Paris, and the Seine running through it with its large wide quays, afford a free current of air all through the heart of the city, then there are such a number of s.p.a.cious markets, of _places_, or, as we call them, squares, and of large gardens, which all afford ample breathing room; whereas in London that is not the case, in many parts, such as the city end of Holborn, Cheapside, Cornhill, Leadenhall street, Whitechapel, etc., where you must go a long way to get any thing like fresh air. That part of Paris termed La Cite, was the worst in that respect, but such numbers of houses have been swept away round Notre-Dame, that they have now formed delightful promenades with trees and gravelled walks.

The French are extremely fond of anything in the shape of a garden, and you come upon them sometimes where you would least expect to find them at the backs of houses, in the very narrow nasty little streets to which I have alluded, but if they have no s.p.a.ce of ground in which they can raise a bit of something green, they will avail themselves of their balconies, their terraces, their roofs, parapets, and I have often seen a sort of frame-work projecting from their windows, containing flowers and plants. They evince the same partiality for animals, to whom they are extremely kind, and in several parts of Paris there are hospitals for dogs and cats, where they are attended with the utmost care. I was much amused the first time I heard of such an establishment; I went with a lady to pay a visit to a friend, and after the usual enquiries, the question of how is Bijou was added, in a most anxious manner: the answer was given with a sigh. "Oh! my dear, he is at the hospital," and then continued the lady in a somewhat less doleful tone, "but fortunately he is going on very well, and in another week we hope he will be able to come out." I thought all the while that they must be alluding to a servant of the family, who had been sent to the hospital, when the lady I had accompanied exclaimed, "Poor dear little creature." This somewhat puzzled me, and whilst I was pondering on what it could all mean, the other lady observed, "It is such a nice affectionate animal," and at last I found out it was a dog which excited so much sympathy.

I have also observed the same kind consideration towards their horses, and remember once seeing the driver of a cabriolet take off his great coat to cover his horse with it, and certainly at present I do not perceive any practical proof of what used to be said of Paris, that it was a "h.e.l.l for horses, and a heaven for women," and as to the latter case it is very evident that the females work much more than they do in England, particularly amongst the middle-cla.s.ses; accounts being strictly attended to in the course of their education, enables them to render most important aid in the establishments either of their husbands or brothers, to which they devote themselves with much cheerfulness and a.s.siduity, arising from the manner in which they are brought up. Indeed the general system observed in female boarding-schools in Paris is very commendable, and as there are numbers of the English whose circ.u.mstances will not permit of their residing in France, yet are extremely desirous that their children should acquire a perfect knowledge of the French language, I know not any service that I can render such persons more important than that of recommending a seminary, in which I can confidently state that they will not only receive all the advantages of an accomplished education, but also be treated with maternal care; of such a description is the establishment of Madame Loiseau. Having known several young ladies who had been there brought up, and hearing them always express themselves in the most affectionate manner of its mistress, whilst the parents added their encomiums to those of their children, I was tempted to pay Madame Loiseau a visit, that I might be empowered to recommend her establishment, by having the advantage of ocular demonstration added to that of oral testimony.

I have known several boarding-schools in my own country, but never any one which was superior in regard to the extreme of neatness and cleanliness, or possessing a more perfect system of regularity, which appears to prevail in that of Madame Loiseau; although mine was rather an early morning call, yet all was in the nicest order. The house, which is in the Rue Neuve de Berri, No. 6, just close to the Champs Elysees, the favourite quarter of the English, is most advantageously situated, facing a park, and at the back is a good sized garden, with shaded walks, well calculated for the recreation of the pupils, and there is besides a s.p.a.cious gymnasium, where the young ladies can always practise those exercises so much recommended for the promotion of health, when the weather will not permit of taking the air. The premises are so extensive, that different rooms are appropriated for different studies, the one for drawing, another for writing, several for music, etc., etc.; there is a chapel attached to the establishment, which is adapted to those who are of the Catholic persuasion, whilst the English Protestant pupils are sent with a teacher of their own country, either to the Amba.s.sador's or to the Marboeuf English chapel, both of which are near to the residence of Madame Loiseau. The masters for the different accomplishments are judiciously selected, and although much attention is devoted to enriching the minds of the pupils with the beauties of literature, and elegant acquirements, Madame Loiseau takes still more pains in instructing them in every social duty, towards rendering them exemplary, either as daughters, wives, or mothers. In case of any pupils proving unwell, apartments are appropriated to them, separated from the dormitories, where they receive the most a.s.siduous attention; baths are amongst other conveniences contained within the establishment. The table is most liberally supplied, and on those days which are observed as fasts by the catholics, joints are prepared for the protestants, the same as upon other days. The terms are moderate, proportioned to the advantages which are offered.

The physical appearance of the French strikes me as having undergone a considerable change; when I was a child, I can remember a host of emigrants who used to live mostly about Somers Town, and impressed me with the idea of their being tall and meagre, exactly as I was accustomed to see them represented in the caricatures; I remember particularly remarking that they had thin visages, hollow cheeks, long noses and chins, that I used to observe they were all features and no face, they had besides a sort of grouty snuffy appearance; of the females I have less recollection, except that I thought they looked rather yellow, and generally took snuff. When I came to France, therefore, I was very much struck with the change, particularly in the young men, whom I found with small features, and generally round faces, of the middle height, and well made, not so dark or so pale as I expected to find them. The same description applies to the females; there is not so much red and white as we are accustomed to see in England, nor the soft blue eye, nor flaxen nor golden hair, nor generally speaking such fine busts, and I know not why, but the French women have almost always shorter necks, but they have mostly very pretty little feet and ankles, and although their features may not be regular or handsome, taken separately, yet the ensemble is generally pleasing; their eyes are fine and expressive, and after all, in my opinion, expression is the soul of beauty. The female peasantry of France take no pains in guarding against the sun and wind, but merely wear caps, consequently get very much tanned, and look old very soon: whereas the Englishwomen preserve their appearance much longer by wearing bonnets, and particularly pokes, which effectually shelter the face. The sun also has more power in most parts of France, and the women work harder than in England, therefore cannot wear so well.

Proportioned to the price of provisions, wages are higher in France than in England; you cannot have an able bodied man in Paris, for the lowest description of work, for less than 40 sous a day, those who are now working at the fortifications have 50, that being the minimum, and if a person understand any trade, 3, 4, and 5 francs are the usual prices, and those who are considered clever at their business often get more.

But many a young man's advancement in life is impeded by the conscription; it often occurs that an industrious shopman, or artisan, has with economy saved some hundred francs, when he is drawn for the army, and glad to appropriate his little savings towards procuring him some comforts more than the common soldier is allowed; the troops generally are very quiet and orderly behaved, in the different towns where they are quartered, but the infantry have not a very brilliant appearance, having found small men so very active and serviceable in climbing the rocks, enduring fatigue, and braving all kinds of impediments, men two inches shorter than would have before been received, were admitted into the ranks, the consequence is that the regiments of the line now make but a poor display, as regards the height of the men, and indeed in their manner of marching, and carrying their muskets, some nearly upright others more horizontally, they have not a regular orderly appearance, like many of the other troops on the Continent; most of the largest sized men are taken up for the cavalry, and very well looking fellows they many of them are, particularly in the Carabineers, which, in regard to the height of the men, is a remarkably fine regiment, but might be much more so, if the government paid that attention which is devoted by other powers to the selections for their choice regiments; in the Carabineers there are men as much as six feet three, and four, and others as short as five feet ten, whilst in other regiments, such as the Lancers and Dragoons, they have here and there men above six feet, which if placed in the Carabineers, and those who were the shortest in that corps removed into the others, all those regiments would be improved, as being rendered more even, whilst the Carabineers would then be equal in appearance, with regard to the men, to any regiment in the world. With respect to the horses, it would be more difficult to render it as perfect as our Life Guards, and as to their bridles and equipments in general (except their regimentals) there is often an inequality and want of care and attention as to uniformity of appearance, but throughout all the French cavalry, the men have an excellent command over their horses. I have been at many grand reviews both in France and in England, and in the former I never saw a man thrown, whereas in the latter it has frequently occurred, either from the horse falling or other circ.u.mstances.

With regard to the French army in general, the effect is that of the men having individually a degree of independent appearance, or as if each man acted for himself, instead of being as one solid machine set in motion as it were by a sort of spring, which moving the whole ma.s.s, all the parts must operate together. The French infantry, in point of marching, are an exact contrast to the most highly disciplined troops of Russia and Prussia, who pretend to a.s.sert that they have regiments who can march with such extreme steadiness and regularity, that every man may have a gla.s.s of wine upon his head and not a drop will be spilt; attempt the same thing with a French regiment, and wine and gla.s.s would soon be on the ground, and in all their military proceeding there is an apparent slovenliness and irregularity, a want of closeness and compactness in their movements; with regard to outward appearance, the National Guard have the advantage on a field day, as there is a sort of _esprit du corps_ between the legions, which causes them to take great pains with regard to the _tenue_ of their respective battalions; but after all, the great force of the French army is _enthusiasm_, and that would be excited to a much greater degree in a war with England, than with any other power, because they have been so taunted by the English press, with the old absurd doctrine, viz., that one Englishman can beat three Frenchmen, and several papers lately raked up the battles of Cressy, Poitiers, Agincourt, etc., but the reply of the French is indisputable, that those successes were most efficiently revenged, when it is remembered that England was in possession of the whole of the provinces of Guienne, Normandy, great part of Picardy and French Flanders, some portions of which were under England for nearly 500 years, but that we were overcome in such a succession of battles, that ultimately we were beaten out of every acre we had left in France; Calais, which surrendered to the Duke de Guise, in the reign of Mary, being the last place which we retained. These of course, as historical facts, cannot be denied. But I certainly do consider that portion of the English press much to blame, in recurring to events so distant, for the purpose of wounding national feeling; the effect has been to provoke reply on the part of the French press, and in all the virulence of party spirit, in defending their country against the odium cast upon her, they have been led into some of the most illiberal statements which have had a very baneful effect upon many persons, in exciting an extreme irritation against England; but generally speaking, the French people, if left alone, do not desire war with the English; if it were only for the sake of their interests, it is natural for the French to wish for peace with England, as her subjects are amongst the most liberal purchasers of the produce of the soil and manufactures of France.

The party the most anxious for war with England, is the navy, and they bitterly feel the sting which goads within them, of their having been so beaten by our fleets, and pant for an opportunity to efface the stain which they certainly do feel now tarnishes the honour of their flag.

They consider, also, that the circ.u.mstances under which they were opposed to the forces of England, were so disadvantageous, that no other result could have been expected than such as occurred, as when the war broke out in 1793, France had not one experienced admiral in the service; all possessing any practical knowledge of naval affairs, being staunch adherents to the royal cause, had either quitted France, or retired from the navy, de Gra.s.se, d'estaing, Entrecasteux, d'Orvilliers, Suffren, Bougainville and several others. The consequence was, that the command of the fleets were given to men who acquitted themselves very ably in the management of a single vessel, but were not at all competent to the office with which the necessity of circ.u.mstances invested them, and although there were several encounters between the frigates of the two nations, in which the reputation of both were well sustained, yet of the power of so doing, the French were soon deprived, by Napoleon, who at one period in his ardour for military glory, sacrificed the navy, by taking from it the best gunners in order to supply his artillery; also the choicest and ablest men were selected wherever they could be found, to fill up the ranks of the army, which were being constantly thinned by the universal war which he was always waging with the greater part of Europe. The s.h.i.+ps were then manned with whatever refuse could be picked up, and a Lieutenant Diez told me, that the crew of the vessel to which he belonged was such, that they had not above twenty men who could go aloft, and had they met with an English vessel of the same size, they must have been taken without the least difficulty. But the officers in the present French navy know that the case is now very different, for the last twenty years the greatest attention has been devoted to that arm, which is candidly acknowledged on the part of our naval officers, of which I remember an instance at Smyrna, whilst dining at the English consul's with eight or ten of them, being the commanders of the s.h.i.+ps which composed the English fleet, then lying at Vourla, when the conversation falling upon the French navy, it was observed that nothing could be more perfect than its state at that period, every man, down to a cabin boy, knowing well his duty, and all the regulations and manoeuvres being carried on with such perfect order and regularity.

There are however some advantages which we still maintain, afforded by our foreign commerce being the most extensive, enabling us always to have a greater number of sailors, and generally speaking more experienced seamen, and a French naval captain who has seen a good deal of service, once observed that there was another point in which we had a superiority, and that was with respect to our s.h.i.+p's carpenters, which was particularly ill.u.s.trated in the combat at Navarin, as the morning after the action the English were far in advance of the French, with regard to the repairs which had been rendered necessary from the damages which had been sustained.

The French now have several officers who are experienced practical men, in whom the navy has great confidence, as, Admirals Duperre, Hugon, Rosamel, Lalande, Beaudin, Roussin, Bergeret, Mackau, Casey, etc., all of whose names have been before the public in different affairs in which they have created their present reputation. During the present reign, every means has been adopted to infuse within the minds of the French an interest for naval affairs, hence apartments have been fitted up in the Louvre, as before stated, with models, and representations of all connected with a s.h.i.+p, whilst the best artists have been employed to paint different naval actions, which have reflected honour on the French flag, and really I had no idea that they could have cited so many instances, in regard to encounters with our s.h.i.+pping, but on reference to James's Naval History, they will be found mainly correct, giving some lat.i.tude for a little exaggeration in their own favour, a habit to which I believe every nation is more or less p.r.o.ne. The government have certainly succeeded beyond their wishes, in engendering an extreme anxiety in the people with regard to the navy, which has just been elicited, in the singular anomaly of the opposition voting on the motion of M. Lacrosse a greater sum by three millions of francs for the navy than the minister demanded. With an eye also to the marine, Louis-Philippe has made some sacrifices to the promotion and extension of foreign commerce, and not without a considerable degree of success.

There is not at present any branch of art, science, or industry, that the French are not making great exertions to encourage, for that object many societies and companies are formed, of which I will state a few of the most important. There are four societies styled Athenaeum, the Royal, which is at the Palais-Royal, No. 2, devoted to literature, and three others at the Hotel de Ville for music, for medicine, and for the arts.

The Geographical Society, Rue de l'Universite, 23. Royal Antiquarian Society, Rue des Pet.i.ts-Augustins, No. 16. Asiatic Society, and for elementary Instruction, Agriculture, Moral Christianity, No. 12, Rue Taranne. Society for universal French Statistics, Place Vendome, 24. The Protestant Bible Society of Paris, Rue Montorgueil. Geological Society, Rue du Vieux-Colombier, No. 26. Philotechnic Society, No. 16, Rue des Pet.i.ts-Augustins. Philomatic Society, Entomological, and for natural History, No. 6, Rue d'Anjou, Faubourg St. Germain. Society for intellectual Emanc.i.p.ation, No. 11, Rue St. Georges, as also a variety of other medical, surgical, phrenological, etc., etc., a number of schools besides those I have already alluded to, veterinary, for mosaic work, technography, and other purposes.

Although I have observed that in great commercial undertakings, the French are very slow and cautious, yet they are progressing visibly; there are now thirty-four coal mines at work in various parts of France, belonging to different public companies more or less flouris.h.i.+ng, besides private enterprises, 16 more in agitation where coal has been found, and societies formed but not yet in active operation, and 15 now working in Belgium, of which the sharers are princ.i.p.ally French. There are twenty Asphalte and Bitumen companies. Thirty-five a.s.surance companies, between twenty and thirty railway ditto, about the same number for ca.n.a.ls and nearly as many for steam boats, and for bridges projected about 20, for gas, 14, for the bringing into cultivation the marshes and waste lands, 7, for markets, bazaars, and depots, 10, and for manufactures of gla.s.s, earthenware, soap and a variety of other things, there are about forty more public companies. These are such as now still offer their shares for sale; there are many others which have been for a length of time established, which no longer issue either advertis.e.m.e.nt or prospectus, but when enterprises of this kind are undertaken in France they generally succeed.

CHAPTER XI.

The Literature of the time being, princ.i.p.al authors. Music; its ancient date in France, performers, and singers.

Of the present state of literature in France, it is not possible to draw a very flattering picture; there is a good deal of moderate talent but certainly none that is transcendental, which remark may be applied to statesmen, orators, authors, artists, etc.; as to poetry there appears at present so little taste for it, and writers seem so thoroughly aware of its being the case, that they have too much good sense to attempt to obtrude it upon the public, and those who had obtained a certain reputation as poets seem to write no more. The works of de Lamartine certainly have many admirers, displaying a pleasing style of versification fraught with beautiful imagery, a happy arrangement of ideas enwreathed within the flowers of language, but little or no originality. As if himself conscious of that circ.u.mstance, he brought forth his Chute d'un Ange (the fall of an angel), which caused his own _fall_ at the same time; if his sole desire was to attain originality, he gained his point, but at the price of common sense; the majority of the public appear to have been of this opinion, and M. de Lamartine seems to have pa.s.sed from poetry to politics, being now one of the best and most conspicuous speakers in the Chamber of Deputies. A certain tone runs through M. de Lamartine's works, that leads one to infer he has deeply read and admired Lord Byron. M. Casimir Delavigne was a great favourite at one period; it might be my want of taste, or a deficiency in the knowledge of the French language sufficient to relish that cla.s.s of poetry, but certainly I found his works laboured and tedious, and could not in spite of all my efforts derive any pleasure from their perusal. The productions of Beranger are confined within a very small compa.s.s, but containing that which causes one to regret that his works are not more voluminous. The true nerve and genius of poetry, continually sparkling throughout his writings, as a patriotic feeling and a generous love of liberty formed the princ.i.p.al points in his character. The efforts to suppress that spirit which was attempted in the reign of Charles X called forth the powers of his muse, but since the accession of the present monarch to the throne, as all has been conducted on a more liberal system, his pen has lain dormant, which has disappointed all who have read and admired those effusions of a free and exalted mind, which he has at present published, and led to the hope that they would be continued. Of Victor Hugo's productions I need say but little, as they are so generally known in England, particularly his Notre-Dame de Paris, which has been dramatised under the t.i.tle of Quasimodo and acted at Covent Garden, as well as at other theatres, and few I believe there are who have not felt some sympathy for Esmeralda.

When Victor Hugo wrote this, the works of Sir Walter Scott I think were bearing upon his mind; his poems and dramatic pieces at one period created much sensation, and undoubtedly possess a certain tone of merit.

The Comte Alfred de Vigny is the author of one work which may be considered as a gem amongst the ma.s.s of publications which emanate from the French press of that nature; it is ent.i.tled, Cinq-Mars, an historical novel, which is decidedly one of the best and most interesting of any that have appeared either in England or in France for several years past; he has also written a tragedy on the subject of the unfortunate Chatterton, which at the time it came out excited a deep interest, but M. de Vigny, like many of the present literary characters in France, appears resting on his oars. Not so with Alexandre Dumas, whose prolific pen appears like himself to be ever active; what with travelling to different countries, then publis.h.i.+ng accounts of his wanderings, novels of divers descriptions, detached pieces, and dramatic productions, he must be constantly on the _qui vive_. There are very different opinions respecting his writings, they certainly possess a good deal of spirit, some of them considerable feeling, and are generally amusing. Of novel writers there are many, but unfortunately the bad taste prevails of introducing subjects in them that prevent their being read by females, with a few exceptions; those of Balzac are by no means devoid of merit and are exceedingly entertaining, and some there are which any one may peruse of Eugene Sue, who has lately been knighted by the King of the Netherlands; the same may be said, although of the latter description there exist but few. Those of Paul de k.o.c.k are well known in other countries as well as France; they are very clever and exceedingly amusing, but partake of the fault alluded to. As a female writer and translator, Madame Tastu may be cited as having produced works which do credit to her taste and judgment. Madame Emile de Girardin, well known as Delphine Gay, is a talented writer, but would have been more esteemed had she steered clear of political subjects.

Monsieur and Madame Ancelot both write tales and dramatic pieces, which are justly admired; but the author to whom the stage is most indebted is Scribe, who perhaps is one of the most mult.i.tudinous writers existing; his works completely made and sustained the Theatre du Gymnase, besides greatly contributing to the success of others. In consequence of their having been so much translated, and adapted to the English stage, they are almost as well known in one country as the other. M. Scribe is a man who is highly esteemed on account of his liberality to literary characters, and his extreme generosity to all who are in need of his aid. Of authors on more solid subjects there are not many who now continue to write, several of the most conspicuous having become completely absorbed in politics; of such a description is M. Guizot, whose works are generally known and admired, particularly his Commentaries on the English Revolution; partly a continuation of the same subject, it is stated he has now in preparation, but placed at the helm of the nation, as he now is, his time is too much occupied to be devoted to any other object than affairs of state, and his position is such as requires the exertion of every power of thought and mind to sustain, against its numerous and indefatigable a.s.sailants.

M. Thiers owes his success in life to his literary productions, and his talents as an author are universally admitted; his History of the French Revolution is as well known in England as in France, and generally allowed to be the best work upon the subject, but he is also so totally engaged in political affairs, that the public cannot derive much advantage from the effusions of his pen, as it is impossible that they can be very voluminous, when his time and abilities are so exclusively appropriated to a still more important object; but it is understood that it is his intention to afford the world the benefit of other works which are now in embryo. The same remarks may in a degree be applied to M.

Villemain, who has written upon literature, in which he has displayed considerable ability, but having become an active Minister of Instruction, of his publications there is at present a complete cessation. Nearly a similar instance may be cited in M. Cousin, who has written very ably upon philosophy and metaphysics, but as a peer of France, literature has been forced to succ.u.mb to politics, his talents also being directed into the latter channel. Amidst this general languor which seems to have come over France, with regard to the exertions of her most eminent authors, there are a few who occupy themselves with history, which now appears to be the most favourite study with those who devote their minds to reading; the very delightful work on the Norman Conquest, by M. Thierri, I trust is well known to many of my readers, or if not, I wish it may be so, as it cannot do otherwise than give them pleasure; he has written several other things, and amongst the rest Recit des Temps Merovingiens, which is highly interesting. A work of considerable merit, is l'Histoire des Ducs de Bourgogne, by Monsieur de Barante. M. Capefigue has published many historical productions, and amongst the rest a Life of Napoleon, which is perhaps one of the most impartial extant, and very interesting, as containing a sort of recapitulation of facts, without any endeavour to palliate such of his actions as stern justice must condemn. M. Mignet has also chosen the path of history, and has not followed it unsuccessfully; the foundation of his present prosperity consisting entirely in his writings, there are several other authors of minor note who have adopted the same course, but not any who have created any great sensation, or effected any permanent impression on the public.

The only living author whose name is likely to descend to posterity is that of Chateaubriand, who, although he has never been a writer of poetry, may be considered the greatest poet in France, as there is so much of imagination and of soul in his prose, so much of sublimity in his ideas, that the works in verse of his contemporaries appear insipid when compared to the wild flights of genius which ever emerge from his pen, yet when they are closely studied, and deeply sounded for their solid worth, it will be found that they consist merely of beautiful imagery, elegantly turned phrases, a sort of flash of sentiment, which catches the ear, but appeals not to the understanding, a gorgeous superstructure, as it were, without a firm foundation for its basis. As for example, in his preface to Attila, alluding to Napoleon, he observes "Qu'il etait envoye par la Providence, comme une signe de reconciliation quand elle etait la.s.se de punir." Which may be rendered thus: that Napoleon was sent upon earth by Providence as a sign of reconciliation, when she was fatigued with punis.h.i.+ng; this is certainly very pretty, but I will appeal to common sense, whether there was aught of fact to support such an a.s.sertion? Even those who were the most enthusiastic admirers of the martial genius of Bonaparte, could not partic.i.p.ate in the fulsome compliment paid to their hero by M. Chateaubriand; but when strictly scrutinized, all his works will generally be found of the same tissue; yet, as there is so often a wild grandeur in his conceptions and in his mode of expressing them, whilst they are arrayed in all the grace and beauty which language can bestow, his volumes will always find a place in every well-a.s.sorted library, when probably those of most of the other French authors of the present period will be consigned to oblivion, excepting such as have written upon history, which will always maintain their ground, as they are in a degree works of reference.

There are several very clever men who write for the newspapers, or what may be styled pamphleteers, amongst whom are Jules Janin, and Alphonse Karr; the latter publishes a satirical work called the Guepe, which possesses the talent of being very severe and stinging wherever it fixes. M. Barthelemy has written some poetry much in the same strain, which is rather pungent, but he latterly appears to have sunk into the same slumber which seems to have enveloped so many of the present literary men of France. M. Deschamps now and then produces some poetic effusions which are pleasing, and prove the author to be possessed of that ability which would induce a wish that his works were less brief and more frequently before the public. But taking all into consideration, this is by no means a literary era in France; the nineteenth century has not yet produced any such names as Montesquieu, Voltaire, Rousseau, and many others, who have shed a l.u.s.tre on the French name; there are no doubt many clever men still living who have written scientific works upon medicine, surgery, natural history, physiology, botany, astronomy, etc., whilst the names of De Jussieu and Arago, as eminent in the latter sciences, are known all over Europe, as well as many others who are celebrated in their different departments.

Although the present age is not fecund in the production of French genius as relates to the polite arts, yet there never was a period when there was more anxiety for their promotion, and now all cla.s.ses read; but the reading of the lower orders consists princ.i.p.ally of a political nature; the newspapers now however have what is called a _feuilleton_, which embraces many subjects, and appears to interest all; the criticisms on the theatrical performances are perused with much avidity, an extreme partiality for dramatic representations still forms a considerable portion of the French character, as also a general love of music, without being at all particular as to its quality; no matter how trifling it be, as long as there is any thing of an air distinguishable it will please. There are at present a host of composers in France whose fame will probably be not so long as their lives; Paris is inundated every year with a number of insignificant ballads which just have their day, and if perchance there should be one or more that are really clever amongst the ma.s.s of dross which comes forth, after a twelvemonth no one would think of singing it because it has already been p.r.o.nounced _ancienne_, and it is completely laid aside, and in a few years so totally cast in oblivion, that it cannot even be procured of any of the music-sellers, or anywhere else: this was the case with some delightful airs which appeared about ten years since, and which are now nowhere to be found, although once having excited quite a sensation. The French cannot certainly be considered as a musical nation, yet many of their airs are full of life, and quite exhilarating, whilst others have a degree of pathos which touches the heart; still none of their music has the nerve, the depth, the sterling solidity of the German, nor the elegance nor grace of the Italian. Yet some composers they have whose works will have more than an ephemeral fame, amongst whom may be cited Aubert, whose music is not only admired in France but throughout all Europe; another author of extreme merit is Onslow, whose productions are not so voluminous or so extensively known as those of Aubert, but possessing that intrinsic worth which will increase in estimation as it descends to posterity: the compositions of Halevy and Berlioz have also some degree of merit. But amongst the numerous productions which have emanated from the French composers for the last fifty years, one there is that for soul and grandeur stands unrivalled, and that is the Ma.r.s.eilles Hymn, or March, by Rouget de Lille; perhaps there exists no air so calculated to inspire martial ardour, and there is no doubt but that it had considerable effect upon the enthusiastic republicans in exciting them to rush into what they considered the struggle for liberty and honour; it appears to have been an inspiration which must have suddenly lighted upon the composer, as none of his works either before or since ever created any particular sensation. Although of far distant date, the old air of Henry IV must certainly be placed amongst the gems of French musical composition; there is a peculiar wildness in it, which gives it a tone of romance, and reminds one of very olden time, there is in it an originality, a something unlike anything else; the Breton and Welsh airs alone resemble it in some degree, and in both those countries they pretend that they are of Celtic origin. Music is of very ancient origin in France: in 554 profane singing was forbidden on holy days; in 757, King Pepin received a present of an organ, from Constantin VI; a tremendous quarrel occurred between the Roman and Gallic musicians, in the time of Charlemagne, and two professors are cited, named Benedict and Theodore, who were pupils of St. Gregory; but the most ancient melodies extant, and which are perfectly well authenticated, are the songs of the Troubadours of Provence, who princ.i.p.ally flourished from the year 1000 to the year 1300. Saint Louis was a great patron of music, so much so that in 1235 he granted permission to the Paris minstrels, who had formed themselves into a company, to pa.s.s free through the barriers of the city, provided they entertained the toll-keepers with a song and made their monkies dance. At that period they had as many as thirty instruments in use; the form of some of them are now totally lost. Rameau is the only French composer whose name and compositions may be said to have had any permanent reputation, which does not now stand particularly high out of his own country; Lulli, Gluck, and Gretry were not born in France, although it was their princ.i.p.al theatre of action. It remains to be proved whether the works of Boeldieu will stand the test of time, as also of those composers who are still living and are the most esteemed.

Much may be said of the French musical performers, who certainly may be considered to excel upon several different instruments, particularly on the harp, which all can testify who have ever heard Liebart. There are also a number of ladies to be met with in private society who play extremely well; the same may be said with regard to the piano-forte, but although there are many professors who astonish by their execution, yet they have not produced any equal to a Liszt or Thalberg; I have even amongst amateurs known some young ladies develop a lightness and rapidity of finger quite surprising, and far surpa.s.sing what I have generally met with in England (except with the most accomplished professors), but I do not consider that they play with so much feeling and expression as I have often found even with female performers in my own country, and which affords me a much higher gratification, as fingering is after all but mechanical, which may astonish, but will never enchant. On the violin they have produced some very fine players, as also upon other instruments, and the bands at their operas can hardly be too highly praised. But their music which has afforded me the most delight has been the performances of their first masters on some of their magnificent organs; on those occasions I heard the most exquisite feeling and expression displayed, and have known the most powerful sensations excited; this most superlative enjoyment I have experienced at the churches of Notre-Dame, St. Sulpice, St. Eustache, and St. Roch, but it happens only on particular and rare occasions, and it is difficult to find out when such performances will take place; sometimes it is announced in Galignani's paper but not always, and their sacred music is often most exquisite particularly that which is vocal.

In respect to singing, although the Conservatory of Music and the most talented masters give every advantage to the pupil of theory and science, yet they cannot confer a fine quality of voice where it has not been afforded by nature, and that deficiency I find generally existing with the French females; they will often attain an extreme height with apparent facility, and even will manage notes at the same time so low that no fault can be found with the compa.s.s of their voices, nor any lack of flexibility; their execution being perfectly clean and correct.

I have frequently heard them run the chromatic scale with extreme distinctness and apparent ease, and acquit themselves admirably in the performance of the most intricate and difficult pa.s.sages, all of which is the result of good teaching and attentive application of the pupil, but sweetness of tone exists not in their voices, which are generally thin and wiry; they want that depth and roundness which gives the swell of softness and beauty to the sound; hence there is generally a want of expression in their singing as well as their playing. Of course there are exceptions, and Madame Dorus-Gras may be cited as such, as well as many others, who have won the admiration of the public. The voices of the men are better, often very powerful, possessing extremely fine ba.s.s notes, but many of them have even still a horrid habit of singing their notes through the nose. I don't know whether it is that they regard their nasal promontory in the light of a trumpet, so considering it as a sort of instrumental accompaniment to their vocal performance, but although it is a practice which is wearing off, there is a great deal too much of it left. Nourrit had none of it, his voice was firm and sweet, and few men have I ever heard sing with so much feeling. Duprez is also a singer of no common stamp, and of whom any nation might be proud, and I have often met men in society sing together most delightfully, either duets, trios, or quartettos, and totally devoid of the nasal tw.a.n.g, or, as the reader will observe, delightful it could not be.

CHAPTER XII.

Instructions for strangers; remarks upon the feelings and behaviour of the lower cla.s.ses of the Parisians. Political ideas prevailing in Paris. Observations upon the present statesmen.

There are certain regulations to be observed at Paris which we are not accustomed to in our own country; on a stranger's arrival he is conducted to an hotel, either to that to which he is recommended, or he fixes upon one of which he hears the most extravagant praises from persons who attend with cards, and even throw them into the carriage before it stops; on whichever the traveller may make his selection the same plan is to be followed, make your arrangement as to price before you install yourself, either per day, per week, or per month; you may make your agreement to take your meals from the people of the hotel, or to send for it from a restaurateur, or to go and dine at one, as you may think proper; the latter plan is found the most agreeable for a stranger, as he sees more of the people by so doing, and can try several different restaurants, which he will find very amusing, and some of them, from the beautiful manner of fitting up, are well worth seeing; the prices vary from a franc to six or seven francs, according to their celebrity. Every hotel has a porter, to whom you must give your key whenever you go out, and then the mistress of the house is answerable for anything which may be missing, but if you leave your key in the door whilst you are absent, you cannot make any claim for whatever may have been lost; at night, on the contrary, after the gates are shut, when you retire to bed, and you let it remain outside, should anything be stolen, the mistress is accountable, as it is supposed that when all is closed in, everything is then under the safeguard of the porter, for whose conduct the mistress is considered liable. According to the style of the hotel in which you take up your abode, the porter will expect remuneration; at one that is moderate, and not in a first-rate situation, six sous a day is sufficient, but in most hotels about the fas.h.i.+onable quarters half a franc is the usual sum expected; for this your bed is made, your boots and shoes cleaned, as also your room, and your clothes brushed; they likewise take in messages or letters, and answer all enquiries respecting you, direct the visiters to your apartment, etc., but if you send them out anywhere, no matter how short the distance, they always charge at least ten sous for it; it is one of the dearest things I know in France, that of charging for every little errand or commission.

At some of the hotels there are commissioners who make offers of their services, to conduct strangers to different shops or warehouses, for the purpose of making their purchases, but too much reliance must not be placed on those gentry, as they often exact contributions from the shopkeepers for bringing travellers to their shops, when they naturally must charge so much the more upon the goods in order to pay the commissioner.

Tradesmen from London particularly are often misled in that manner, but in proceeding to such establishments as those I have stated, which are respectable wholesale houses, such as Messrs. Bellart, Louis, Delcambre, for lace, ribband, and silk, 2ter Rue Choiseul, etc., they will never be deceived; I will also add another establishment which has existed for many years and always conducted their business on equitable terms, being that of M. Langlais-Quignolot, No. 10, Rue Chapon, where he executes orders for London on a most extensive scale for net gloves, purses and reticules. He lives in the neighbourhood where many of the wholesale houses are situated, and would willingly inform any stranger of the most respectable in the different branches required. The different articles to be seen at M. Langlais' warehouse are got up in a most superior style and at prices so reasonable, that it is quite surprising when compared to the charges made for the same goods in London, where undoubtedly they have duty and carriage to pay. He has lately brought into vogue some most beautiful little purses called Rebecca, being exactly in the form of the pitcher with which she is represented at the well; their appearance is most ornamental, and although very small they distend so as to hold as much as most ladies would like to lose in an evening at cards. M. Langlais has already sent over numbers to London, which must now be making their appearance in Regent Street, but I recommend my countrywomen when at Paris to pay him a visit themselves, as he does not refuse a retail customer although his is a wholesale house; he has a most extensive a.s.sortment of all varieties of purses and net gloves and reticules, from which numbers of shops in Paris and London are supplied, and of course being the fountain head the articles may be procured on advantageous terms of M. Langlais.

There is one precaution I would recommend all travellers to adopt, and that is always to keep their pa.s.sports, about them; in case they happen to pa.s.s any exhibition or building that is open to a stranger on producing his pa.s.sport, it is well to be provided with it, or if he should meet with any accident, or that any casuality should occur, it will always be found useful. When you arrive at the port where you disembark in coming from England, your pa.s.sport is taken from you and sent on to Paris, and what is called a Carte de Surete is given you instead, for which you pay 2 francs; this you must give to the mistress of the hotel where you lodge at Paris, and she will procure your original pa.s.sport for you from the police, or if you choose you may go for it yourself, and save the charge of the commissioner who would be employed to fetch it. In returning to England, you take it to the English Amba.s.sador's to be signed, and from thence to the police for the same purpose, but only state that you are going to the port from whence you are to embark, as if you say that you are going to England they send you to the Minister of Foreign Affairs for his signature, where there is a charge of ten francs, which there is not the slightest necessity of incurring. I have been very often from Paris to London and never paid by following the plan I have stated, but for a permit to embark there is always 30 sous to pay, at the port on quitting the country.

In all the diligences throughout France the places are numbered, and he who comes first has the first choice, in which case most persons choose No. 1, but others who prefer sitting with their backs to the horses select No. 3; this excellent regulation prevents any kind of dispute about seats. If you have much luggage you are required to send it an hour or so before the coach starts, and in travelling by the Malle-Poste (or Mail) if your trunk be very large, and weighty, they will not take it, therefore you must ascertain that point when you take your place; it is always sent by a diligence which follows, but a delay is occasioned which sometimes proves inconvenient. The mails are dearer than the diligence, and some go eleven miles an hour.

With regard to posting, the price is 2 francs each horse for a miriametre or six miles and a quarter, and as many horses as there are persons in the carriage must be paid for; 15 sous is what should be given to the postillion, but most people give a franc. The posting is entirely in the hands of government, and where the horses are kept is not always an inn; but wherever it may be, printed regulations are kept to which the traveller may demand a reference, if he imagine its rules are not fulfilled. For 4 francs a book may be purchased which gives a most detailed account of every thing connected with posting; all the charges must be paid in advance. Coaches may be hired in Paris at from 20 to 30 francs a day, with which you may go into the country, but must be back before midnight. An excellent and most useful establishment will be found at No. 49, Rue de Miromenil, Faubourg St. Honore, called Etabliss.e.m.e.nt d'Amsterdam, where there are above 300 carriages constantly kept, either for hire, for sale, or for exchange; it is also a locality where persons may sell or deposit their carriages for any period of time they think proper, and can likewise have it repaired if required; they will besides find every description of harness and sadlery. Horses also are taken in to keep, or bought or sold. The establishment is most complete in all its appointments, is very extensive and kept in the most perfect state of order. There are some carriages amongst the immense variety that may thoroughly answer the purpose for travelling, which can be procured at extremely low prices, whilst others there are, very handsome and perfectly new, which are of course charged in proportion. The proprietors are extremely civil, and ever ready to show their premises to any visiter who may wish to see them.

A fiacre, or hackney coach, is 30 sous each course, for which you may go from barrier to barrier, which might be five miles; but if you only go a few yards the price is the same. If you hire it per hour the first is 45 sous and afterwards 30 sous; after midnight, 2 francs each course and 3 per hour; a few sous are always given to the coachman, which may be varied according to the length of the course. Chariots are 25 sous per course, 35 first hour, afterwards 30. Cabriolets 20 sous the course and first hour 35, afterwards 30; but as all these prices are subject to change with new regulations, it is not worth while to give any farther detail. The General Post-Office is in the Rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau, but there are other places where you may put in your letters for England, although not many if you wish to pay. In the exchange there is a box for receiving letters for all parts; and in the square to the left is an office where you can pay your letter, which is always 40 sous to London if it be not over weight. Whatever you bring over that is liable to pay duty at the custom-house, if you take it back with you on your return to England, on producing the articles and the receipt of what you have paid, you can reclaim whatever you have disbursed; this particularly applies to carriages and to plate, only you must not neglect to demand a receipt at the time you pay, and to take care of it, as I have known many instances of persons losing them, and then their reclamations are useless. I have never found them very severe in the custom-houses in France, but am convinced that the best plan on both sides of the water is to give your keys to the commissioner of the inn where you put up; by displaying no anxiety on the subject, the officers conclude that you have not any thing of importance, and will pa.s.s your things over more lightly than if you were present, as when witnesses are by they like to preserve the appearance of doing their duty strictly. I have seen some of the English bl.u.s.ter and go in a pa.s.sion about having their things tumbled about, as they expressed it, but it only makes matters worse. I have known the searchers in those cases to turn a large chest completely topsy-turvy, so that not a single article has escaped examination, and the whole has had to be re-packed. It is at best an unpleasant tax upon travellers, but it is always better policy to submit to it with a good grace.

The pa.s.sport is a grievance which is much complained of by Englishmen, and certainly it does appear an infraction on liberty, that it should not be possible to go from one part of the country to another, without having to obtain permission; but it has other advantages: a criminal in France can very seldom escape; by the regulations of the police it is almost impossible for them to evade detection, as wherever he sleeps his pa.s.sport must be produced, and every master or mistress of every description of lodging-house is bound to give an account of whatever stranger sleeps under their roof, to the police, and their officers; or the gendarmes, are authorised to demand the sight of the pa.s.sport of any person whom they may suspect. In England a pa.s.sport is not so necessary, because being an island the means of escape are not so easy, as they must either embark at some port or they must hire a boat on their own account, or enter into some proceeding which leads to discovery; and notwithstanding those obstacles to leaving the country, and the extreme vigilance of our police, felons do very often escape, and murders remain undiscovered, as those of Mr. Westwood, Eliza Greenwood, and many others. But those who are invested with authority in France sustain it with a more courteous demeanour than is the case in England, consequently it is less offensive. If your pa.s.sport be asked for, it is in a polite manner, whereas with the English, give the butcher or the blacksmith the staff of office as constable, and he exercises his brief authority very frequently in a manner which is not the most engaging. Although a _politesse_ and refinement of expression united with a s.m.u.tted face, tucked-up sleeves, an ap.r.o.n and rough coa.r.s.e hands, has something in it of the ludicrous, yet it softens the brutality to which uncultivated human nature is ever p.r.o.ne, but instances o