CHAPTER III.

Paris, October 23.
S EVERAL clays of rest have afforded me an oppor- tunity of musing over the changes which the last two weeks have brought; and all seems like a dream, the waking from which assures me that I am distantly separated from kindred and friends. And here, lest faithful memory should invoke all of the heart-joys left behind, I will omit their record, and substitute a simple quotation in praise of home :
44 There is a spot, — a quiet spot which blooms On Earth's cold, heartless desert;
It hath power to give a sweetness to the darkest hour !"
But what of Paris, this charming and beautiful city which boasts of so many places of interest and historic association?— as yet scarcely seen in the coup d'vcil cast over its immensity, but the one view of the Champs Elysces from our window is truly enchanting, leaving nothing to be wished for by the eye or mind.
This avenue is one mile and a quarter in length, shaded by trees and bordered with walks, from which diverge many little gardens and groves. The white stone dwellings, pavilions, and restaurants, combining with the natural attractions, afford the beholder a blended D*
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picture of city and country ; for in a moment or two after leaving the elegantly furnished apartment and gilded saloon, one can be upon the green lawn among the many hundreds of little children at play, or among the flower-beds and gushing fountains. What a lovely playground! how admirably adapted to children’s sports, and how varied the amusements ! First of all appears a miniature vehicle, drawn by four goats, which leaves the greensward for the broad avenue, attracting almost as much attention as the carriage of the Emperor. The little folks who pay for a ride are as happy as Kings and Queens are expected to be. Their joyous shouts, at least, attest it. Next is a revolving equestrian machine, and then an interrupted circle of boats and carriages, that go round and round to the workings of a crank, if not to the jingle of copper coins dropped by tiny, dimpled hands. The seats and chairs in the vicinity of all this sport are occupied from time to time by pedestrians who sit for hours in lazy indolence or grateful rest. A dreamy langour is produced by the atmosphere and the sunshine of this Elysium, and old age lives over again the happy days of childhood in the merry scene before his eyes. Who would not be a child again ? I almost envy the bonne as she siezes the trundling hoop and bids her charge follow on. At the boutiques or tiny shops (fancifully constructed of wood) which dot the groves here and there with a gay display of toys, are to be seen groups of purchasers. Every fond mamma seems eager to turn over her surplus sous to a noble boy or a pet daughter, on whom the vender of pretty things showers
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innumerable compliments, bestowing a gentle pat or a glance of admiration at long golden locks and beautiful blue eyes. How I wish that my own dear little ones, Corinne and Felicie, could take my place ! To them I dedicate every thought that comes to me in this happy spot! Opposite this scene of juvenile revelry, on the north side of the avenue, is the Palais de V Industrie, a magnificent building of stone with a glass roof, about seven hundred feet in length. The Universal Exposi- tion of 1855 was held there, but it is now used for the exhibition of paintings of modern artists. The groves in the rear of the edifice still preserve their verdure, the spring and summer blossoms being scarcely missed in the bushes of crimson holly and chrysanthemums of every hue. Rond Point , on this avenue, is a circular space ornamented with grass-plots and large fountains, whose waters fall in murmurings “ sweetly musical; ” In the heat of summer how refreshing must be such a wealth of spray! Thousands of superb equipages, from the gilded coach to the homely fiacre, are hurrying by to the Bois de Boulogne, or to the boulevards and streets where the shopping is to be done. How much of life all around— of elasticity of step and gladness of spirit ! We catch the fever of gaiety at once, or feel the exhila- ration of “je ne sais quoi,” — an elixir, or something with which Paris ever sets the pulses bounding and drives sad thoughts away. To almost every eye the pride and glory of the Champs Elysees is VArc de Triomphe de VEtoile, the superb monument erected under the Repub- lic and Empire in honor of France. Its erection is due
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to Napoleon I., that hero whose proud renown justly entitles him to chronicle in imperishable stone his valor- ous deeds and those of his countrymen. Of what ma- jestic beauty is. this arch, with its groups of colossal statuary, some of the figures measuring eighteen feet high ! The two groups facing the Champs Elysecs rep- resent the “ Genius of War encouraging warriors to ao- tion” and the “Coronation of Napoleon by Victory” Those facing the Bridge of Neuilly represent Peace and Resistance . Peace can be thus described : a warrior re- turning from battle is met by his wife and children, his sword being sheathed, as if in acknowledgment of an allegiance other than military. Resistance represents a young man defending his family from the invader. The wife, holding her dead child, implores the husband to tarry awhile ; but neither life with its dear behests, nor death in its sacred ties, has the power to repress his military ardor. On the northern side, above the arch, in sculpture unsurpassed, is the “Battle of Austerlilz” and on the southern is the “ Battle of Jemappes.” There arc also alto relievos of the “Taking of Alexandria, ’ the “Passage of the Bridge of Areola ” the “Surrender of Mustaphar Pacha at the Battle of Aboukir” and the “Death of General Marccau .” The freize surrounding the whole represents the French army departing for Italy, the presentation of flags and banners, and the re- turn of the victorious troops with trophies of war. The view from the top of this arch, one hundred and sixty feet high, gives us beautiful Paris in all its extent ; but the ascent of over two hundred steps is an exercise which
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one would not like to repeat often. Whilst the Arc de Triomphe terminates the Champs Elysees, the Palace of the Tuileries looms up, in its historic fame, at the other end. I acknowledge a feeling of discomfort in looking upon this palace, the scene of so many cruel events. Its origin is cotemporaneous with the crimes of Catherine de Medicis, of which none was more conspicuous than the St. Bartholomew massacre; and then the bloody stain of the Revolutions is deep-dyed on its records. It would seem that its brightest and most redeeming fame comes of recent years, since it became the residence of the present Imperial family — the fair and lovely Empress, who is pronounced to be as good and charita- ble as she is beautiful ; the Emperor, bearing through- out the world the appellation of a great man ; and the little Prince, who may one day shape the destinies of France.
The Place de la Concorde , which separates the gardens of the Tuileries from the Champs Elysees , is a magnifi- cent open square, presenting as its central boast the tall obelisk of Luxor, the gift of Mahoramed Ali, Pasha of Egypt, to the French government. Its sides are covered with hieroglyphics which many will vainly endeavor to interpret. It marks the scene of bloody tragedies, tliat evoke a loathing of such an age of butchery, for there it w’as that Louis XVI. and his unfortunate consort were guillotined. The sorrows of poor Marie Antoinette live not only in history, but in the hearts of all creatures who are not dead to justice and mercy. As we stand in this grand square, now named Place de la Concorde , be-
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cause white-winged Peace is brooding over it and cast- ing her happy reflex on all things around, our minds naturally revert to those dark days when this same spot, then called Place de la Revolution , was shadowed with the gloom of death — was rife with the execution of some of the noblest spirits of France. There are eight large statues representing the principal cities in France, as an encircling guard to this beautiful Place ; and two foun- tains of colossal dimensions, whose basins are fifty feet in diameter. The designs are aquatically carried out in spouting dolphins held by mermaids.
Whilst descanting upon the beauties and attractions of the Champs Elysees by day, let us not forget its charms at night, when lighted by its myriad lamps. It is an earthly meteoric display, when to the gas-lights are added those of the thousand carriages which seem never to desert the avenue. The effect produced is that of fire- flies gemming the ground, and the constant scintillations or sparks of light might challenge the stellar firmament. But this is a sacrilegious simile ; for after all, how dim and dark must every light of earth be, compared with that starry region which to our vision suggests the ex- haustless brightness of the inner heaven !
October 27. — These last few days have fled in “ circling dance,” whirling me around in social pleasures, in that friends have discovered me and extended a welcome so cordial, as to dispel the thought of meeting in “ greeting cold, the stranger’s palm in foreign land.” Mr. and Mrs. E. H. Pendleton, of Cincinnati, gave a handsome
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dinner-party at their apartments, on the Champa Ely sees) the guests comprising some of the most agreeable Ameri- can sojourners in Paris, among whom were Gen. and Mrs. Darling, of New York, and Mr. Hunt, of Louisiana, re- cently married to a Baltimore belle, the daughter of a talented lawyer of that city. My escort to dinner was an intelligent gentleman, Dr. Robinson, U. S. Consul to Port Mahon, Spain. During the hours of sparkling wit and sentiment, a gallant cavalier remarked that Parisian dinners a la mode consisted of food fit for angels ; and that the ladies who partook thereof seemed for the time being to lose their mortal identity, and to shine as with light from the upper spheres. But, if we were angels on this occasion, our wings were slow to bear us off from the bright scene, for it was midnight ere we had flown. Mrs. Gilman, of New York, also gave a dinner, and we unexpectedly met there Mr. Tebbetts, of Boston, who seemed gratified to encounter familiar faces. I have often heard this pleasure described by those who have " met by chance ” in a foreign land.
Much might be said in praise of the French for the tasteful and decorative manner in which they prepare a dinner ; the garnished dishes (the graceful serving of the same), the exquisite flowers and luscious fruits. The dessert embraces fruits of all kinds — oranges (Sicily), pomegranates, peaches, pears and grapes. It is like wandering in a garden with the privilege of unlim- ited choice. As for the grapes at this season, they are so plentiful that even beggers might buy, the insignificant price of them bearing a marked contrast
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with what one has to pay in New York ! In fullest satisfaction I hail the land of vineyards ! France is not only beautiful in her rich clusters of this fruit, but famous for the extracts manufactured therefrom, and with which her people fill high the glass, in utter repu- diation of the “ cup of cold water.” Many of us, how- ever, as true •Americans, cannot renounce the latter, and although exceedingly fond of the grape, can still proudly say, “ We need no vine our country's hills to brighten,” while majestic streams and sparkling rills are ours. The flowers, too, are beautiful and profuse. Nearly every salon or some portion of a house is adorned with jardi- nieres, pots of fuschia, carnation-pink, or other plants exhaling sweet perfume. Does not the sight of a little fragrant flower among objects of art, however rich and costly, turn our thoughts from “ gilded toys ” to God, the author of this humble though sweetest gift to man ?
***** This is my birthday anniversary, and, although I am far from home, it brings more than one kind wish that the hour-glass of Time may ever wear for me a bright garland of joy! A portion of this after- noon was devoted to a promenade in the Tuileries gar- den with little Alice May Norton. She is just four years of age — a miniature picture of beauty, with bright eyes, rosy cheeks, flaxen hair, and plump little figure arrayed in white embroidered skirt and violet ccinture. It is indeed a delight to contribute to the enjoyment of chil- dren appreciative of beautiful scenes and possessed of enquiring minds. How well they sometimes reason against our own matured intelligence, and how many
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busy thoughts range through their young brains ! An illustration of the above surprised and interested me : Upon approaching the obelisk of Luxor the query was made, “ What is that tall pillar ?” whilst sundry other questions led me to mention the sad fate of Marie An- toinette. Instantly the child’s face darkened, and with some feeling she said, “And where is the pretty French Queen now ?” I responded, “ We hope that she is in heaven.” “ Well, what did God say to her there ?” “ Tliat her sorrows were ended, and hereafter she would be happy with Him and His angels.” “ Then, what answer did she make to God?” Here I became puzzled at the swift-corning queries, and remarked rather at ran- dom, “ She said she was very happy to be received by God.” Just at the close of my sentence came her quick retort, “No, she didn’t, for how could she talk when she had no head ? ”
The garden of the Tuileries abounds in trees, and among them are interspersed statues of bronze and mar- ble. Seats are to be found everywhere, for which com- fort you pay a few sous. The vigilant eye of an old woman observes every new-comer, and notes every de- parture. Of course, she has help when the grounds are crowded, but her eye is far-seeing at all times, and the pockets of her apron are evidently made to receive large deposits. It is a generally admitted fact in this city, that small change has no abiding-place, as it disappears in the continual pour-boirc. Very true, the drain upon the finances is small, but its frequent repetition becomes an annoyance to the newly-arrived traveler. We stopped E
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at the large basin to feed the swans with some bread pro- cured for that purpose, and then walked leisurely on to the private garden of the Imperial family, which was thrown open to promenaders. It is situated immediately be- neath the palace windows. The building loses some of its sombre aspect in the flower-beds laid out under its very shadow, Flora holding her court amid a variety of bright and beautiful tints ; and this outside Queen could well dispute the palm with Eugenie and all her royal train. *****
10 P. M. — I have just left the salon, where, in listen- ing to the rough experience of an American sojourner, I first learned the demerits of the French servants. Mr.
G told me his modest and amiable little wife had
been summoned before a juge de paix to combat in feeble French the voluble tongue of an uncompromising diable of a cook. The cuisine is generally the “ bone of con- tention,” but as it and the larder are so necessary to a comfortable existence, la belle Americaine must often sub- mit to imposition, and bow to the yoke with impreca- tions heavy on her tongue.
October 29. — We have been to that fairy-land of beauty, the Bois de Boulogne . It furnishes a wide field for the artist, and poets might write of it in enraptured verse. Every portion of this world-renowned park re- veals natural and artistic beauties, making it an Eden with no delight forbidden or limited, it being thrown open alike to royalty and the masses. The finely graded roads that thread it in every direction are usually crowded
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with magnificent equipages ; and some of the finest horses in the world are to be seen there. The Emperor and Empress go, with a military escort, in a coach drawn by four or six horses, two of which are mounted by postil- lions. Their carriage is generally followed by one con- taining several ladies of the Imperial household. The opportunity to see their^majesties is always very fa- vorable, as the main avenue during the afternoon is too crowded to admit of fast driving. Some American snobs or would-be noblemen assume a pretentious right to State-carriages, etc., recalling the shoddy per- formances of Central Park, New York. The display of coroneted coaches, with coachmen and footmen in tight knee-breeches, flesh-colored hose, shoe-buckles and gay cockades, is quite bewildering ; and so much is there of the aristocratic swell and dignity, that a plain American who witnesses the scene for the first time, sinks back in his hired vehicle, feeling his utter insignificance Be- sides the personages of title and rank, there is another class of society that unfortunately wields an influence too great to pass unnoticed — the gay demi-monde , who woo deceitfully, and barter the pearl of chastity for daz- zling gold.
But the Bois itself, without bright eyes, gay voices, swift horses or sound of wheels, is a ravishing picture with its lakes, cascades, arbors, bowers, flowering vales, shady groves, and shrubbery touched, as it were, by “ emerald fingers.”
1 saw that portion of the Park called Longchamps waked into triple life and beauty on the occasion of the
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review of the French troops by Napoleon and the Em- peror of Austria. The day was propitious in a bounteous flood of sunshine, which made the very air shimmer with its glow. Mrs. McCauley, of California, with her young and interesting daughter, called for me in an open carriage. I was thus persuaded to leave our balcony at home, which had been decorated with American flags, and whither some friends (the wives of a half-dozen U. S. naval officers) had repaired for a good view of the passing troops. The spectacle at Longchamps was most brilliant ! The soldiers, numbering many thousands, drawn up in line on a perfectly level plain — the glitter of sabres in the sunlight — the blending of colors in the different regiments— the presence of the crowned heads mounted on superb chargers — the Empress and mite — the stands for Ministers of the government, and the can- opied tribune filled with gaily-dressed ladies — made up the cliarming tout ensemble . France might well be proud of her soldiers, whose manoeuvres elicited universal ad- miration. The chasseurs were particularly attractive.
The sound of the bugle, besides inspiriting martial airs, the vociferous cheering of the people, and the usual excitement of a crowd, evoked some military enthusiasm
from little George McC , who, with heart beating
time to the music, left our company to stroll around, much to the dissatisfaction of an anxious mamma. Sev- eral timesboth coachman and footman were sent in pursuit of him, and they found it difficult to discover his where- abouts or entice him back. At one time he was found lodged in a high tree, regardless of the danger of breaking
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his limbs, and shouting to the glory of France.; and at another, hidden away in a clump of bushes with some lolling Zouaves.
Upon our arrival at the Bois , very fortunate were we in securing a fine position, the coachman having driven to a high knoll of ground overlooking Long champs, where, through an opening in the foliage, was wit- nessed what will be a life-memory. At various times cavalrymen passed on the narrow roadside, and gave the command to “move off!” As long as they re- mained iu sight we bowed understanding^, and made a feint at leaving, but as soon as they had departed we remounted the seats, and enjoyed our lorgnettes again. Many persons in the passing carriages looked enviously at our position, yet were forced to continue on, not hav- ing the assurance and pertinacity of our American party. The review was ended at five o’clock. The hours which brought fatigue to the troops wore away too rapidly to suit our wishes, and particularly those of little George, the coachman and footman, the two latter having once served iu the army. With the disbandment of the sol- diers, the mass of people departed from the scene in furious haste, as if a hostile army were at their heels. The avenues and walks were literally blocked up, and the cockers practiced a successful manoeuvre by whipping their horses to a brisk trot in order to elude the gen - darmes, who in thundering tones were ordering them to follow certain routes. In a spirit of opposition, we passed the gates of the Bois , and after leaving the A venae de V Impend rice, deemed it best to turn into the side E*
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streets, thus avoiding the Champs Elysees until within sight of home. As we were about to enter that avenue a gendarme , with a most provoking assumption of authority, held us captive for ten minutes; yet had he not detained us, the presence of our carriage there would assuredly have added to the t( confusion worse con- founded.” We scoffed at patience , a womanly virtue, for it was very hard for hungry mortals to be thus baffled. A fight of words in French ensued, with a sprinkling of English as a spicy flavor; but what availed all manner of spleen against French bravado? Finally, we resorted to another street, which, although guarded in like manner, did not refuse us passage. * * *
To-day all the principal boulevards were decorated with banners. The Austrian flag threw out her folds from many a window and balcony, and it was often seen entwined with the French colors, in honor of the visit of Francis Joseph. One thing remains to be said — that no nation in the world equals this in the enthusiasm or the impressive warmth with which her people espouse a cause or celebrate an event. Their hilarity or excita- bility may well be compared to their glorious cham- pagne ; and if it does not last much longer than the effervescence of the draught, it is none the less attractive and effective. The Emperor of Austria, out of respect to the unfortunate Maximilian, declines to accept the compliment of a ball at the Hotel dc Villc, and thus arc many French and American expectants disappointed.
October 31. — Mr. Corcoran, of Washington, called
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yesterday, and urged an immediate visit to the Exposi- tion , which ere this should have engrossed my time; but Paris admits of no set plans or projects. He is much improved by a recent sea-voyage, but anxiety for his daughter’s health represses his usual flow of spirits. He will follow her to Cannes, whose climate we trust will serve her case; yet while consumption may flatter for a season, the spectre of Death comes at last in the mockery.
***** Our first visit to the Exposition lasted from early morning to 4 r. m. How much the word implies with the prefix Universal, for is there not afforded a view of the products, the works of art, etc., of all the countries of the world? It certainly repays the tedium of a voyage across the Atlantic and compensates the dis- tress of its accompanying evil, mal de mer. The build- ing stands on the Champs de Mars , and is divided into sections, or, “ it forms a series of rings one within the other, holding a garden in the centre.” The articles on exhibition are all on the ground floor, and from their groupings an idea may be formed of the comparative industrial condition and advancement of each country. Hereto is appended a synopsis of the contents, which are divided into ten great groups, and these subdivided into ninety-five classes: “ Group I. Fine arts. Group