Paris in 1841
Gore, Mrs. (Catherine Grace Frances), 1799-1861 | Allom, Thomas, 1804-1872, ill
SS */«<* ■ -a\\^ • ?* Victorian 914.436 G661p 1842 - Joseph Earl and Genevieve Thornton Arrington Collection of 19th Century Americana Brigham Young University Library BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY 3 1197 21976 2249 /- ^z^ cJ WORCESTER. MASS. J PARIS 1841 By MRS. GORE. WITH TWENTY-ONE HIGHLY-FINISHED ENGRAVINGS, FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS, By THOMAS ALLOM, Esq. LONDON: LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS; LEA AND BLANCHARD, PHILADELPHIA ; AND FISHER AND CO. PARIS. 1842. LONDON : PRINTED BY J. IIADDON, CASTLE STREET, FINSBURY. UPB PREFACE. The following sketches, intended chiefly as an accompaniment to the spirited illustrations of Mr. A Horn and Monsieur Lami, embody the observa- tions of a long residence in that capital. Readers who are desirous of a more detailed description of its public monuments, should consult the work of Dulaure, a new edition of which has lately been published in numbers ; or an interesting History of the Antiquities of Paris, in three volumes, pub- lished some years ago by Messieurs Galignani. These works, however, bear no reference to the modern improvements and newly-erected monu- ments ; to introduce which to the English reader, is the especial purpose of the Picturesque Annual for 1842. CONTENTS. Page. Introduction 1 CHAPTER I. Rue de la Paix — Place Vendome — Rue de Rivoli — Gardens of theTuileries — Entrance of the Duchess of Orleans into Paris . . . .11 CHAPTER II. Domestic Life of the Court of France — Interior of the Palace of the Tuileries — Royal Fetes — A Bal Monstre 32 CHAPTER III. Gallery of Paintings of the Louvre  of Pictures — Gardens of the Palais Royal — Cafes and Restaurants — The Palace ....... fi"2 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. Palace of the Luxembourg — Chamber of Peers—  Boulevarts— Poite St. Denis . . . .80 CHAPTER VII. Hotel de Beaumarchais — Porte St. Antoine — Place Royal — Hotel de Sully — Hotel de Sens — Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers — The Temple . 97 CHAPTER VIII. Hotel de St. Aignan — Hotel des Archives — Hotel de Ville — Origin of Paris — Notre Dame — Hotel Dieu — La Morgue — Palais de Justice — Concier- gerie — Sainte Chapelle — Hotel Lambert 110 CHAPTER IX. Pont d'Austerlitz — Jardin des Plantes — La Pitie — Halle aux Vins — Palais de l'lnstitut — Ecole des Beaux Arts — St. Germain TAuxerrois — Halle aux Bles 133 CHAPTER X. Pont de la Concorde — Palais Bourbon — Chamber of Deputies— Place de Louis XV. — Elysee Bourbon 153 CHAPTER XI. The Champs Ely sees — Quartier Beaujon — Arc de l'Etoile — Champ deMars — Ecole Militaire — Hotel des Invalides .164 CHAPTER XII. Private Hotels of the Nobility — L'Abbaye — St. Germain des Pies — St. Etienne du Mont — Scotch College — Tomb of James 1L— Pantheon, or St. Genevieve — Gobelins — St. Sulpice 1G3 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER XIII. La Bourse — New Fountain in the Rue de Richelieu — Opera or Academie de Musique — Conservatoire— Bibliotheque Royale — Restaurants and Cafes-- Old and New Paris .206 CHAPTER XIV. Cemeteries of Pere la Chaise — Montmartre — Mont Parnasse — St. Catherine — Picpus — Inhumation of the Remains of Napoleon — Promenades . 222 CHAPTER XV. Fashionable Society — The Coteries of the Faubourg St. Germain and Chaussee d'Antin — Signature of a Marriage Contract — The Carnival — Expenses of Paris — Public Amusements — Literature . . .241 LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. Page. 1. Exterior of La Madeleine (Frontispiece).  7. Gardens of the Palais Royal . . . .69 8. Chambre des  Interior of  XV. . . . 159 17. Fountain in the Rue de Richelieu . . . 210  The Carnival ...... 255 PARI S. / INTRODUCTION. It has long been proverbially said, " Vedi Napoli, e poi mori f" " See Naples, and die ! ' as if no scene or city could thenceforward interest the attention. It might be said with equal justice, " See Paris, and live ! " To the hypochondriac, to the invalid, better advice could scarcely be given. The elasticity of the atmosphere, the dry- ness of the soil which forms a perpetual filter, and, above all, the clearness of sky produced by the consumption of wood instead of coal, unite to lend a cheeriness to the scene highly advantageous to the spirits. On first arriving in Paris, indeed, this perpetual glare, sunshine, stir, and joyousness, almost oppress B 2 INTRODUCTION. the new comer. He can scarcely conceive what makes the people around him so merry and so active about nothing. If an Englishman, he wants to pause for breath, in order to make up his mind, as in his own deliberative country, whether he be in the humour to be amused. He chooses to have the question of pleasure or no pleasure tried by jury, and will abide by the verdict ; or, if belong- ing to a higher order of society, would prefer to have a bill brought in for the better regulation of his powers of enjoyment, and passed through both houses of parliament, before he affixes his royal consent to be entertained. But at the close of a couple of days, even the surliest of John Bulls is irresistibly impelled to march with the joyous crowd ; and at the end of a week, finds himself wearing his cap and bells, and brandishing the bauble of folly, as giddily as the rest of the noisy throng. In other capitals, the stranger has to go in quest of amusement. In Paris, he cannot stir a step without coming in contact with the clashing cym- bals of the votaries of pleasure, Among the French, the goddess is not an exclusive, or recreation an aristocratic monopoly. They seem born with a disposition to bear the burthen of life graciously and gracefully, — nay, gratefully too ; for it is im- possible to be more sensitively alive to the enjoy- INTRODUCTION. 3 merits placed within their reach by the beneficence of Providence. Instead of sighing after impossi- bilities, ambitioning the splendours of the great, or the superfluous gauds of equipage and distinction, they content themselves with the more come-at-able enjoyment of a sunshiny day in the Champs Elysees, the Bois de Boulogne, or the public gar- dens of the city, refreshed with lemonade or iced water, and diverted by the facetiae of itinerant showmen. The aspect of a metropolis where the population is concentrated in the different stories of lofty mansions of ten floors, instead of being diffused through those mean and straggling streets in which the Londoner prides himself upon proclaiming that his house is his castle, his castle being the size of a mouse-trap, is necessarily lively and brilliant. In lieu of the long monotonous streets of our western and northern quarters of the town, those of Paris are animated and picturesque. Even the most aristocratic neighbourhood is interspersed with shops. The hotels of the nobility being secluded from the streets by means of a courtyard in front, and a garden in the rear, the ostensible frontage is usually occupied by gay magazins. Except in a very few old-fashioned streets of the Faubourg St. Germain, and the Marais, at all hours of the day a perpetual bustle is going on. ^ b 2 INTRODUCTION. To institute a more specific comparison between the population of London and Paris, take the neigh- bourhood of the English Exchange, and of the French Bourse, which may be estimated, in both capitals, the head quarters of the commercial world. In London, what plodding, care-worn, smoke-weazened faces ; in Paris, what keen, active, yet cheerful countenances ! Among the English, absorbed in the worship of the molten calf, it is plain that their chief pleasure in life is business; among the French, that their business is pleasure. The French seldom amass colossal fortunes, or make enormous bank- ruptcies; but contenting themselves with less, enjoy, even in their busiest days, their portion of the de- lectations of life. The gravest man among them is not ashamed to talk of the pleasures of a fete. Part of the business of their public functionaries, indeed, is to give entertainments; not, as in England, mere dinners to be devoured in solemn state among their solemn selves ; but balls and weekly parties for the centralization of the order of society to which they belong, and the promotion of the interests of com- merce. The carnival is a national observance ; not alone as the epoch for masquing or midnight balls, but for family enjoyment, — for the expenditure of a por- tion set aside from every private income expressly for recreation ; — a fillip given to the dulness of the INTRODUCTION. year, — a moral springtime, — producing the annual rejuvenization of the social qualities. The car- nival is of uncertain duration, as dependent upon moveable feasts ; commencing with advent, and terminating with the beginning of lent. It is not, however, till after the first of January — the grand festival of the French year — that the public festivi- ties of the carnival, such as masked balls, and royal or ministerial fetes, have their formal commence- ment. But the diversions of Paris do not expire on Shrove Tuesday with the carnival. It is always " fete ' with the French ! Some ever-recurring pretext of royal birthdays, or the feasts of the church, sanctifies the assumption of holiday attire, concerts in the open air, or dancing at the guin- guette. Nay, when even these are wanting, the very Boulevarts, or the ordinary promenade of the Champs Ely sees, present a semblance of pastime, such as English people hi England would prepare themselves ten days beforehand to enjoy ! One of the most remarkable peculiarities, con- nected with this tendency to enjoyment, is the domesticity with which it is connected. In humble life, a whole family issues forth for diversion ; the grey-headed grandfather, and infant in arms, being fondly included in the party. In summer time, they are to be seen in family groups, seated upon 6 INTRODUCTION. the grass among the broomy thickets of the Bois de Boulogne ; in winter, in the paradis, or upper gallery of some minor theatre. Even the meanest house having its porter or concierge in charge of the door, their property can be left without danger. English people, on the contrary, though apt to profess themselves models of domestic affection, rarely engage in parties of pleasure, without in- cluding mere acquaintances in the scheme. Their first idea, when about to visit some public monu- ment or place of diversion, is to " ask somebody ' to join them. In order to repair to a theatre, or race, or country excursion, they must always "make a party ;" and this effort of making a party often causes the pleasure itself to be postponed till too late. There is in fact a less genial spirit — a want of tendency to be amused — a lack of elasticity of nerve and muscle, among the smoke-dried or fog- saturated denizens of London ! The concentration of the city and population of Paris into a third of the extent of our own capital, is also the cause of bringing public places and the public buildings, which tend so greatly to its embel- lishment, within daily and hourly scope of admira- tion. The public edifices of London are scattered over so vast a surface, that people residing at the extremity of the West End are out of reach of the theatres, and totally uncognizant of the public INTRODUCTION. 7 monuments of the city ; and many persons live and die there, without having seen the ancient walls of the White Tower, or the beautiful church at Walbrook. In Paris, on the contrary, the finest structures — palaces, churches, galleries, bridges, columns, and arches of triumph — burst upon the eye at every turn. The beautiful Place de Louis XV., un- equalled in extent and decoration, is daily traversed on the way from the Boulevarts to the Faubourg St. Germain, or from the Tuileries to the Champs Elysees ; and it is impossible not to see and be struck by the impressive regularity of architecture in the Rue de Rivoli, the Place Vendome, and other noble streets ; or the still more picturesque irregularity produced by the ancient houses of the islands, and the pointed towers of the Conciergerie, as viewed from the Pont Royal, or the Pont des Arts. The munificence of the city of Paris, and the comparative liberality of the Chambers, combined with the active and enlightened spirit of the reign- ing family of France, have effected wonders for the capital during the last ten years. Paving, lighting, sewerage, and the laying down of water-pipes, — supplementary but indispensable advantages which had been too long neglected, — now tend to enhance the attractions of those noble national monuments, 8 INTRODUCTION. whose grandeur has never been disputed. In every quarter of the capital, improvements are still in active progress. All that was begun by Napoleon, with a view to public salubrity and comfort, is in process of completion by Louis Philippe ; and the magnificent structures of the museum at Versailles, the Madeleine, the Hotel de Commerce, the Hotel de Ville, the Ecole des Beaux Arts, and the Arc de l'Etoile, all completed under his auspices, will form memorable monuments of the reign of the Roi Citoyen. It is not alone sagacious suggestions, good wishes, or even aid from his private funds, which the King of the French bestows upon these public undertakings. At all hours, from daybreak till sunset, Louis Philippe may be met, sometimes on horseback, sometimes in a private equipage, ac- companied by his architect, or a single aide-de- camp, or even alone, minutely inspecting the pro- gress of the public works in the most remote quarters of the town ; such as the quays of the Arsenal, the monument to the memory of the heroes of July in the Place de la Bastille, or the conser- vatories and galleries of the Jardin des Plantes. Regardless of the numerous attempts to which his life has been exposed, or confiding in the singular interposition of Providence so often manifested in his favour, he exposes himself unarmed and un- INTRODUCTION. V guarded in the midst of the most disaffected quar- ters of Paris, the Faubourg St. Antoine, and the vicinity of the Hotel de Ville, while canvassing with Monsieur Fontaine those architectural details, in which no unprofessional man is better versed than the King of the French. Aware of the im- portance of these improvements as a means of employment for the working classes, Louis Philippe seems to consider that he bears a charmed life amidst the masons and sculptors, to whom his patronage and liberality have so long afforded the means of subsistence. Thanks, meanwhile, to these numerous attrac- tions, Paris has become more than ever the resort of foreign guests. It is not, like Vienna or Peters- burg, a city which people visit once in their lives, and return to no more. Every year brings forth some new monument to be admired, some new wonder to be canvassed. Another and another still succeeds. Scarcely were the raptures of the public expended on the arch of FEtoile, when the museum of Ver- sailles attracted hundreds of thousands of visitors ; and to the noble church of the Madeleine succeeds the Hotel de Ville and Hotel de Commerce on the 10 INTRODUCTION. Quai D'Orsay, — two of the finest edifices of modern Europe. It is the object of the present work to present a few of these novelties to the reader ; as well as to give a general picture of the habits and man- ners of Paris, under the auspicious reign of Louis Philippe. CHAPTER I. The Rue de la Paix — Place Vendome —Rue de Rivoli — Gardens of the Tuileries — Entrance of the Duchess of Orleans into Paris. The first object of the stranger visiting Paris, is to instal himself in one of the commodious hotels abounding in the quarters of the Tuileries. The Rue de Rivoli, the Place Vendome, or Rue de la Paix, afford the greatest advantages to English 12 RUE DE LA PAIX. travellers, as the centre of cheerfulness, opulence, and sociability. The vicinity of the gardens of the Tuileries and the Boulevarts insures a salu- brious atmosphere ; while, from any one of these localities, the eye is enchanted by continual move- ment, and the fluctuation of the gayest throng whose aspect ever put to flight the reveries of a votary of seclusion. But in every direction, the habits of Paris are fatal to reverie. Paris is the city of the present, as Rome of the past. Positive pleasures are too immediately within reach, to allow scope for the lofty musings which, in our own country, arise from the storied aisles and towers of Westminster Abbey, or the murky mysteries of the Tower. In Paris, all is sunshine, — all is progress, — all is life. You issue forth the morning after your arrival into the Rue de la Paix, and are startled by the elegance of its gay shops. Instead of exclaiming with the philosopher, " How many things are here which I do not want ! " you are tempted, by the brightness of the exposition, to say, " How many things are here of which, till now, I was ignorant of the existence ! " You behold in them the evidence of national prosperity. It is not till the necessities of life are fully satisfied, that people begin to think of these adornments ; and as re- gards their origination, it must be admitted tfiat RUE DE LA PAIX. 13 the world is indebted to Paris for the creation of half the more attractive superfluities of life. One can understand how, residing in such a city, Vol- taire was tempted to talk of " le super flu, chose si nScessaire ! " These gay and brilliant creations of luxury are in fact the evidence of centuries of civilization. Personal refinement has long been carried in Paris to so high a point of perfection, that their shops are required to display a redundant choice of novelties in the various arts of decoration. Their artizans have a wonderful faculty of invention. Half the designs adopted in the various cities of Europe, are composed in Paris. They are indif- ferent copyists, and slow to adopt the habits of other nations ; but their creative faculty is re- markable. It is probably on this account that the fickle goddess Fashion has so permanently fixed her abode in the French metropolis as to have it ac- counted her birthplace ; dating from its prismatic precincts those fluttering ukases which give the law to London, Petersburg, and New York. The Rue de la Paix, the connecting link be- tween the gay Boulevarts and the Tuileries gardens, is one of the widest and handsomest streets in Paris, and comprises many shops remarkable for the beauty of their frontage. This street was con- 14 PLACE VENDOME. structed at the early part of the present century, on the site of the gardens of the convents of the Capucins, Augustins, and others ; which, to the number of six, occupied the ground on which the streets of La Paix, Rivoli, Castiglione, and Mont Thabor, were commenced under the Directory, and completed by Napoleon. Of a far grander order of architecture, however, is the adjoining Place Vendome ; more ancient of date by upwards of a century, having been com- menced by Louis XIV. at the suggestion of his minister Louvois, on the site of the hotel and gar- dens purchased by the crown of the heirs of the Due de Vendome, the illegitimate son of Henri IV. and the belle Gabrielle. The original plans of the famous Mansart for its construction, were completed in the succeeding reign by the city of Paris, under the auspices of the adventurer Law, whose financial operations were carried on in the square. The first intention of the magnificent monarch was to create round the Place a succession of public offices, a royal library, besides residences for foreign ambas- sadors. Only a portion of the elongated octagon, however, was thus appropriated ; and the remainder became the property of private persons. The houses of the Place Vendome are uniform, ornamented with Corinthian pilasters and lofty roofs, pierced with richly ornamented lucarne win- PLACE VENDOME. 15 dovvs ; a projection in the centre of each side having* a Corinthian portico and pediment. Richly carved colossal masks form the key stones of the lower windows. It was first called the Place des Con quetes, then the Place Louis le Grand, eventually the Place Vendome ; and is frequently used for military parades and punishments, particularly for the monthly degradation of delinquents, — a brilliant and imposing spectacle. The colossal equestrian statue of Louis XIV. in bronze, which originally decorated the centre of the Place, was demolished by the populace on the terrible 10th of August of the first revolution. But the mutilated pedestal was suffered to remain till 1806, when Napoleon erected its present striking ornament, — a triumphal column in honour of his recent German campaign. This column is mo- delled upon that of Trajan, at Rome, but exceeds it in proportions by a twelfth; the total elevation being 130 feet, and the pedestal 21 feet high. The column, composed of 1200 pieces of cannon taken from the Austrians and Russians, is sculp- tured in rich bas-reliefs, representing the victories of the French army, from its departure from Bou- logne to the battle of Austerlitz ; and the pedestal is ornamented with bronze eagles and garlands of oak. This noble monument, designed by Baron De- non, was completed in 1810. A winding staircase 16 PLACE VENDOME. in the interior, of 176 steps, ascends to an external gallery, commanding a fine view of the city, and constantly visited by strangers. On the summit, was originally placed a bronze statue of the em- peror; which was with difficulty pulled down by the emissaries of the Bourbons, in 1814, and re- founded into the equestrian statue of Henri IV. on the Pont Neuf. During the epoch of the Restoration, it was replaced by a fleur-de-lis, and the drapeau blanc of the Bourbons. But one of the earliest measures of the present King of the French was to restore to this national monument the crowning trophy indispensable to its completeness, in the form of a new statue of Napoleon. On the 29th of July, 1833, the present bronze figure was inaugurated. It is the work of Seurre, and represents the emperor in the costume most familiar to the soldiery, the redingotte grise of his campaigns. The figure is eleven feet high ; and, has a life-like effect, when viewed under the brightness of the morning sun, approaching it from the gardens of the Tuileries. An old corporal, one of the relics of the grand armee, had the office of exhibiting the column to visitors, as " capitaine de la colonne" and furnishing the lantern necessary for the ascent. Great is the pride of the veteran when, on the anniversaries of great victories, or the birthday of the emperor, a PLACE VENDOME. 17 new collection of garlands of immortelles is thrown at the foot of the column. On some of these occa- sions, the whole palisades surrounding it are covered before daybreak with emblematical crowns; and no- thing is more common than to see a provincial or even peasant, on first arriving in Paris, make his offering to the colonne as an altar of national glory. On the other hand, like our own Monument, the column of the Place Vendome occasionally obtains a melancholy notoriety from the madness of some unfortunate person, intent upon committing suicide in a public manner. Precautions have, however, been adopted, to prevent the recurrence of these terrible catastrophes. The Place Vendome contains the public offices of the Chancellerie, Quartier General, and several others. The three best Hdtels garnis in Paris are also to be found there. But a more legitimate suc- cessor to the wealthy fermiers gSn6raux, by whom, in the first instance, its magnificent abodes were inhabited, is Monsieur Schickler, whose fine man- sion is one of the most complete and elegant in Paris. This gentlemen is also the proprietor of the once royal domain of Rambouillet. The Place Vendome may be cited as the Grosvenor Square of the French metropolis. But that the chief apartments of the Chancellerie, and other Hotels of note, look into the gardens and 18 RUE DE RIVOLI. spacious court-yards attached to them, it would form, perhaps, too noisy a residence, being one of the chief thoroughfares of the west end. The houses, however, recede from the carriage way ; which traverses the Place much as the Rhone the lake of Constance, leaving the rest of the area free. Immediately opposite to the column of the Place Vendome, at the extremity of the handsome Rue de Castiglione, whose noble arcades form a con- tinuation of those of the Rue de Rivoli, is one of the chief entrances to the gardens of the Tuileries, — the lungs of Paris, as Hyde Park of London. The palace of the Tuileries, of which the facade extends at one extremity nearly a thousand feet in length, forms the boundary of the garden, a mag- nificent avenue of chesnut trees leading straight from its majestic centre, the Pavilion de l'Horloge, through the Place de la Concorde, the Champs Elysees, and the Triumphal Arch, to the bridge of Neuilly, a distance of three miles. Nothing can exceed the beauty of the view from the palace over the gay parterres, springing fountains, and noble groves, up this noble avenue, embellished midway by the fine obelisk of Luxor, recently placed in the centre of the Place de la Concorde, and terminated, to the eye, by the Arch of Triumph. From the palace of the Tuileries no unsightly I m object meets the eye. To the right, extends the long and regular range of buildings of the Rue de Rivoli ; the upper extremity of which contains the Hotel de Finances, or Treasury ; to the left, a fine series of aristocratic residences, bordering the op- posite bank of the Seine, each having its garden sloping to the quay. But though these beautiful gardens present so princely an accessory to the pleasures of the palace, it is to the general inhabitants of Paris that their enjoyment is dedicated. — Open to the public 20 THE TUILERIES. from an early hour till sunset, when the gates, on account of their immediate vicinity to the palace, are closed for the night, at all seasons of the year, and on all days of the week, these gardens are thronged with promenaders. Every person in decent apparel, not carrying a burthen, is indis- criminately admitted ; some restriction being ne- cessary, as the chief entrance from the Place du Carrousel, a considerable thoroughfare, lies through the very hall of the palace, the doors of which are guarded only by a sentinel ; while the gardens themselves form the chief channel of communi- cation between the Faubourg St. Germain and that of St. Honore, the two most fashionable and fre- quented quarters of the city. There is scarcely a spot where French women, especially those of the middle class, are seen to greater advantage than in the garden of the Tuileries. Throughout the summer season, young mothers and their children may be found spend- ing nearly the whole day under the shade of its verdant avenues of lime and chesnut trees, tho- roughly occupied by their work or book ; unos- tentatious yet elegant in their dress, and graceful and orderly in their deportment. In that crowded promenade, not the slightest irregularity or depar- ture from decorum is ever perceptible. Every thing appears to be in accordance with the some- THE TUILERIES. 21 what formal and courtly character of the place. For the satire of Pope upon the gardens of the Duke of Chandos at Canons, might certainly be applied to the Tuileries. Grove nods at grove, each alley hath its brother, And half the platform just reflects the other. -A style out of place, however, in a private domain is strictly consonant with the majesty of a palace ; more especially with one of dimensions so colossal as the Tuileries. The architecture of that singular edifice belongs to no school or epoch, and is wholly irreconcileable with all received principles of taste. Yet it is so characteristic, so associated with his- torical reminiscences, and derives so strange a grandeur from the factitious vastness of proportion imparted by its three mezzonine stories — a gran- deur which the area in which it stands prevents from being noticed as it deserves, — that few visitors to Paris ever wished this curious relic of old France to be otherwise than it is. Stronger evi- dence of its elevation cannot be adduced, than to institute a comparison with the lofty mansions of the Rue de Rivoli approaching the Pavilion de Marsan ; which shrink into insignificance under the influence of the juxtaposition. The antiquities of the French capital are few 22 THE TUILERIES. in number, and so rapidly disappearing, that the Tuileries, though dating only from the sixteenth century, rank, like the church of St. Eustache, among its antiquated monuments. The greater part of the present structure belongs, however, to a later period than even the Renaissance, or revival of the arts. So lately as 1836, the foundations of the tile-kilns, from which this royal residence derived its name of the Tuileries, were discovered in the course of some excavations made under the palace. Francis I. was the original purchaser of these tile-fields, which were first used as a depository for rubbish, beyond the fortifications of the royal chateau of the Louvre. A small adjoining country house was presented by that sovereign to his mother, Louisa of Savoy, whose health was supposed to suffer from the unwholesome atmosphere of her palace of the Tournelles, in the marshy quarter of Paris, still called the Marais ; on the site of which palace the Place Royale was erected in the course of the following century. It was not, however, till the chateau of the Tuileries became the property of Catherine de Medicis, in 1564, that the present palace was commenced by Philibert Delorme and Bullet, the court architects ; and scarcely were the Pavilion de l'Horloge and the two adjoining wings completed, when the prediction of one of THE TUILERIES. 23 her Majesty's favourite astrologers bidding her "be- ware of St. Germain/' reminded the superstitious queen that her new palace was situated in the parish of St. Germain l'Auxerrois : from the tocsin of which church, indeed, proceeded the signal for the massacre of St. Bartholomew, commenced under her auspices. The works were accordingly aban- doned ; nor was it till the reign of Henri IV. that they were resumed by the celebrated Ducerceau, who erected the two lofty pavilions at either end, called the Pavilion de Flore and Pavilion de Marsan ; the chimneys of which probably over- top those of any other inhabited dwelling. The long gallery, uniting the palace with that of the Louvre, was also commenced by this king, and completed by his son Louis XIII. Under Louis XIV. little was done to the palace, in which he never resided, except a few alterations with a view of harmonizing the whole ; the archi- tecture of the various pavilions being strangely discordant, and rendering an attic story indispens- able, to bring the central buildings into a line with the new elevations. But the greatest improvement effected by Louis XI\ . for the Tuileries, was by clearing and level- ling the adjoining precincts ; forming a spacious courtyard, and causing the gardens to be planted by the famous Le Notre. A street intervened, at that c 2 24 TERRASSE DES FEUILLANS. period, between the palace and the gardens, which consisted of a sort of park, containing a pheasantry and a vineyard; the whole area consisting of about sixty-seven acres. The two terraces overarched with lime-trees, bordering the gardens towards the river and the Rue de Rivoli, were then created ; the latter leading to the royal riding school abutting on the convent of the Feuillans, in which were held the first sittings of the National Assembly during the revolution, and constituting the first royal appa- nage claimed as national property. It was along this terrace that the king and queen proceeded on foot, from the palace of the Tuileries, to place themselves under the protection of the nation, at the suggestion of Rcederer. The ditches and moats surrounding the gardens having been for the most part filled up, in accord- ance with the plans of Le Notre, three circular basins containing fine jets d'eau were formed in the three principal alleys ; and a prodigious number of mar- ble statues and vases, indispensable to the Italian style of decoration then in vogue, were ranged at intervals along the various walks and parterres, and on the borders of the magnificent grove of ches- nut trees which rises in the centre of the gardens. Round the principal basin are groups representing the rivers of France, by Coustou and other cele- brated sculptors ; and on the terrace adjoining MODERN SCULPTURE. 25 the palace, several fine figures cast in bronze after antique models. But the statues which at present chiefly attract the attention of strangers, are those works of modern sculpture placed there of late years by the present government ; consisting of the celebrated Spartacus and Cincinnatus of Foyatier — Prometheus on the Rock, by Pradier — Theseus killing the Minotaur by Sommariva — the soldier of Marathon, by Cortot — Pericles, by Debay — The- mistocles, by Lemaire, — and several others of more recent acquisition and unquestionable merit. Nothing can be more agreeable to the eye than the contrast between the whiteness of the marble of these beautiful productions, and the intense verdure of the lime-trees by which they are sur- rounded ; and it would be difficult to conceive a scene more brilliant than is presented, on a fine Sunday in June, by the spreading terraces fronting the palace, crowded with elegantly dressed wo- men and happy children, the fountains throwing up their silvery spray amid parterres of roses and geraniums, with the lofty heads of the grove of chesnut-trees opening to display a prospect several miles in extent, including the noble arch of l'Etoile. All is life and beauty, modified only by the dignity and order characterizing the purlieus of the courts of kings. The most fashionable part of the Tuileries during 26 LA PETITE PROVENCE. the winter season, is the Terrasse des Feuillans in summer, the Allee des Orangers, into which, about the middle of May, are removed from the orangerie of the palace the colossal cases contain- ing orange-trees, some of them three hundred years old, and of remarkable beauty. Round these trees, and in lines along the adjacent alleys, chairs are placed for hire throughout the summer season; occupied at most hours of the day by multitudes of gay groups, who sit engaged in social chat and contemplation of the loungers crowding the walk. While the royal family are at dinner, a military band, performing opposite to the Pavilion de l'Hor- loge, attracts the crowd of loungers in that direc- tion ; but later in the evening, they return to the fragrant Allee des Orangers, where a cafe for ices and refreshments, and a cabinet de lecture for the hire of newspapers, vary the diversions of the favoured spot. At the further extremity of the gardens, towards the Champs Elysees, is a sunny nook protected by the lofty wall of one of the terraces, known to invalids by the name of La petite Provence. Early in the spring, or late in the autumn, the benches of this warm retreat are frequented by nurses with infants in their arms, or elderly gentlemen encased in wadded douillettes, as the appropriate shelter of first and second childhood. JARDIN RESERVE. 27 The terrace adjoining the river, — presenting an animated view of the fine edifices skirting the oppo- site bank, and the reach of the Seine towards the suspension bridge and wooded shores of Passy, — is occasionally closed at certain hours of the day, to afford a secluded promenade to the royal family. It was here that the young king of Rome used to be drawn in a car by two sheep, during the ascen- dancy of Napoleon, and the Duchess of Orleans and her children frequently resort to the spot. Two small gardens, laid out in parterres, and bordered by a grassy fosse, completed since the revolution of 1830 immediately in front of the palace, obtained at one time the absurd name of the fortifications of the Tuileries ! The ostensible object of their creation was to secure a spot for exercise for the younger branches of the royal family ; but in truth, to increase the privacy of the lower range of apartments inhabited by the king, the windows of which were formerly accessible to the observa- tion of the loungers in the gardens. On summer evenings, the royal family frequently appear on the stone terrace of the first floor, forming a balcony to the Galerie de Louis Philippe, and enjoy a promenade during the performance of the band, to the great satisfaction of the assembled multitude ; and on occasion of the public concerts given on the king's birthday, the fetes of July, and other 28 GARDENS OF THE TUILERIES. rejoicings, under the windows of the palace, the public is admitted by tickets into the private gar- dens within the fosse, while the royal family occupy the balcony of the Pavilion de l'Horloge. Some portion of the charm universally ascribed to the gardens of the Tuileries, is unquestionably attributable to the climate, — the dry clear atmos- phere which, even in the heart of a populous city, places a bright blue sky over the flowing parterres and verdant tops of the chesnut trees, in which, from time immemorial, a colony of wood pigeons have built their nests, thoroughly domesticated among the gay groups of fashionable Parisians. But the animation of the scene arises far more from the frank unconcern of the persons assembled among the green alleys ; the children gathered into friendly groups for skipping or other youthful sports, their bonnets suspended among the branches of the trees ; while their parents sit en- grossed by books or work, regardless of the stir of the passing multitude. The reserve of English people deters them from following their own de- vices in a public promenade, even when their pur- suits are inoffensive as those which add an air of domesticity to the shady nooks of the gardens of the Tuileries. It is needless to enlarge upon the terrible scenes connecting the palace and gardens of the Tuileries ENTRANCE OF THE DUCHESS OF ORLEANS. 29 with the horrible epoch of the revolution. So little wisdom appears to be attained by the study of these great historical lessons, that there is as little profit as pleasure in enlarging upon their enormities. A more agreeable contemplation arises from the internal aspect of the old palace, under the present dynasty, and the events connecting it with their reign. Among these, may be cited the public entrance of the young Duchess of Orleans into the capital, immediately after her marriage. This brilliant solemnity, which chanced most auspiciously on a glorious day of the beginning of June, 1836, united together the whole population of Paris, which lined the noble road from the bridge of Neuilly to the palace gates, order being kept by the combined legions of the national guard. From the moment of passing the majestic Arc de l'Etoile, incessant cheers burst from innumerable throngs of well-dressed people, to salute the young princess, their future queen, seated in an open state carriage, at the right hand of Marie Amelie, so en- deared by her virtues to all classes of the people of France. Beside the carriage, mounted on a fine charger, rode the handsome young bridegroom ; and in succession followed the royal carriages, filled with the family, household, and court of Louis Philippe, in their uniforms of ceremony. This procession of about eighty carriages, hand- 30 PUBLIC ENTRANCE OF somely appointed, progressing for miles between lines of the national guard, under arms, and be- yond these lines crowds of well-dressed and joyous persons, formed a noble and exciting spectacle. On an occasion so auspicious to the. hopes of the nation, Louis Philippe decided that the young duchess should approach her future home right royally, through the grand avenue of the gardens ; and when, the king and his etat major on horseback having led the way, the carriages containing the royal bride and her train were seen winding round the marble basin, fronting the grand entrance from the Champs Elysees, whose jet d'eau freshened the sultry atmosphere, — the noble old chesnut trees embowering the spot being white with bloom, and the green limes displaying the pure verdure of a tardy spring, — it is impossible to conceive a more imposing coup d'ceil. Military bands were stationed at intervals, to salute the bride as she passed along ; and the gar- dens being opened for persons with tickets only, ten thousand well-dressed individuals, who had taken their seats at an early hour, rose to greet the Duke and Duchess of Orleans with joyous acclama- tions, and the waving of handkerchiefs. Tokens more auspicious could not have been presented either by art, nature, or human nature, by way of welcoming to Paris the princess who was to THE DUCHESS OF ORLEANS. 31 afford pledges for the stability of the throne of July, and confirm the domestic happiness of the reigning dynasty. The scene was calculated to survive for years in the memory of thousands. In the central alley of the garden of the Tuileries stands a chesnut tree, proverbial among the people as " Varbre du 13 Mars," from its having been in leaf on the arrival of Napoleon from Elba, and annually putting forth its leaves a fortnight earlier than the other trees of the garden. CHAPTER II. Domestic Life of the Court of France — Interior of the Palace of the Tuileries — Royal Fetes— A Bal Monstre. Whatever may be the differences of opinion con- cerning the political position of Louis Philippe as king of the French, not a dissentient voice will be raised against the assertion, that never did the roof of a palace extend over a more amiable, united, and enlightened family, than that which now fills and surrounds the throne. All that nature and educa- tion could effect to ornament so unpopular a station, has in this instance commanded the happiest results. The auspicious consequence of so bright an exem- plification of domestic virtue, has been the gradual conversion of many of the staunchest adherents of the Carlist cause, unable to withhold their support from a monarchy thus nobly represented. FAMILY OF LOUTS PHILIPPE. 33 At the period of Louis Philippe's accession, his sons and daughters were all unmarried, — many of them remarkable for their personal attractions, and all for their accomplishments and merit. Of his daughters, one has since ascended the throne of Belgium, and another, too early torn from her family, achieved the immortality of genius ; while his two elder sons have increased the royal circle by happy marriages ; and his younger ones are already acquiring professional distinctions. The excellent queen has had nothing in the destinies of her children to augment the cares of so thorny a position as the sovereignty of the French. The court of the Tuileries is consequently adorned with the enhancements of youth and beauty, in addition to the pomp and circumstance, its necessary inheritance ; and the private circle of their Majesties is as cheerful and unpretending, as their public life is dignified and imposing. Against the domestic character of the king and queen, not a syllable has ever been adventured by even the bitterest enemies of the royalty of July. The various branches of the royal family have their separate suites of apartments in the palace of the Tuileries ; which, having been apportioned dur- ing the reign of Louis XV. for the residence of different families of the nobility, as Hampton Court 34 ROYAL APARTMENTS. at the present time, is peculiarly adapted for the purpose. The apartments of the king and queen adjoin the Pavilion de Flore, and are entered by the old staircase of the palace, as in the time of Marie Antoinette, by whom they were partly inhabited. The queen, princesses, and younger princes, as well as Madame Adelaide, the sister of the king, also inhabit this wing ; while the state apartments of the opposite extremity, the Pavilion de Marsan, divided by the theatre and state apartments from the royal suite, are apportioned to the Duke and Duchess of Orleans. The private apartments of the king and queen, nearly in the same condition as in the time of the elder branch, are unosten- tatiously furnished, and contain a variety of pictures by modern French artists. The grand improvements, effected by his present Majesty at the Tuileries, have been in the state apartments. The magnificent staircase, for instance, which well deserves the Venetian appellation of " the giant's stairs," the splendid Galerie de Louis Philippe, and the completion of the Salle des Marechaux, will worthily record to posterity the sway of one by whom the pomps of royalty have been as regally upheld as by his more despotic predecessors. 