CHAPTER V.

HHTT^HAT a relief from the routine of dinners at V V home is afforded in the restaurants of Paris, — an institution indispensable to the happiness of the Frenchman, and conducive to the comfort of the stranger! A few evenings since found us at the Diner de Par is, in the Passage Jouffroy, where an abundant meal can be had for the moderate sum of five francs. The successful management of so large an establishment must be owing to the wonderful order that reigns every- where, from the cash-counter, that meets the eye at the head of the stairway, to the brisk and polite waiting of the gal lons. The dinner consists of a fixed number of dishes, including vin ordinaire, which the American lady very frequently leaves for the waiter, who acknowledges the favor in the ofi-repeated and never-failing " Merci !” To glance the eye down the long line of tables, adapted to parties of from two to twelve, is to take in at a view hundreds busily engaged in plentiful repast, which the reader may doubt from the cheapness of the price, but which those bountifully blessed with appetite can con- scientiously affirm. And what an array of characters all around ! There is a fashionably attired lady, whose
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expensive silk robe and jeweled fingers entitle her to a royal meal, but who seems quite content with the dainty bits that are being served to her in quick succession. Her neighbor on one side is a flashy fop, with a massive gold chain, the huge links of which awake a suspicion that pure metal is not in all that glitters. His eye- glasses, doubtless genuine, bear evidence that his travels over the Continent have impaired his sight, or else their frequent adjustment is occasioned by the belief that there is improved coquetry in the stare, if it passes through the medium of glass. Very near by sits a plain old gentleman, who, it is evident, speaks not a word of French, for he grows red in the face whenever the gar p on addresses him. How many of our people, ignorant of the language, present a ridiculous appear- ance by their gestures, when their mouths dare not utter a- word! Those having a smattering often labor so hard at a single sentence as to induce a fit of strangulation ; but the latter word comes in mat a propos to the Diner de Paris, with its luscious morsels. There is a saucy pair of eyes belonging to a demoiselle not far off, that play like light artillery upon her escort, a sedate youth (an American, I am sure), who seems to be dreaming more of philosophy than of flippant French love ; yet I wager to a conquest by her in the end. In a word, this is a nondescript assemblage of persons, whose perform- ances with knives and forks do them more credit than could a pen-and-ink description.
Recently a large party was given on the Champs Ely - sees by Mrs. Bowler, of Cincinnati, to her son and his
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lovely bride. The young couple appeared supremely happy ; but how else could it be when
“At God’s altar radiant run The current of two lives in one?”
The presence of the old French artist, the Count Maxa- milian de Waldeck, one hundred and two years old, and his wife, about fifty years his junior, formed quite a contrast with the bride and groom in their connu- bial spring-time. I was presented to the Count, and asked him to confide to me the secret of longevity. He quickly replied: “The Secret lies in this, my child, — I never allow one pulsation of my heart to be quicker than another.” The charm of living so long I ween, must reside in an amiable wife that permits’" him to " pursue the even tenor of his way.” It may be well to follow this advice towards preserving youth, for it has certainly enabled the Count to assist at banquets, when others, taking an opposite view of life and its cares, have been “gathered to their rest.” Mrs. Dewey, of California, looked as usual, queenly and handsome. Our Minister to Spain, Hon. Jno. P. Hale, and daugh- ters, and Col. McClure were present, their faces reviving many pleasant reminiscences connected with entertain- ments we had enjoyed together in Washington, ere dire war came to mar the gaiety. The bridal reception closed with numerous good wishes of friends for the nouveaux marles, who are soon to start on a tour to Egypt. It would seem that the love of distant and difficult travel is on the increase with Americans, judging by the num-
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bers now directing their steps to the East ; to the shores of the “ low, smooth Nile,” the Cleopatra land ! * *
A visit to Notre Dame must be chronicled — the mag- nificent cathedral which has stood through centuries, and has seen enacted pagoants that have hallowed its every inch of ground ! What were our thoughts as we paced its lonely aisles — did wc not people them from the dim yet glorious past with kings, queens, prelates, statesmen and generals? There stood Napoleon and Josephine with the imperial crowns set upon their brows ! Then we heard the bridal vow of Eugenie rising to heaven amid the perfume of flowers, and the solemn hush of the august assemblage. But fair ceremonies were not all, for a dark vision floated before the mind’s eye in •that the sanctuary was invaded and the holy shrines sacked! We seemed to hear the solemn Te Deum that celebrated the triumph of the French arms, and again, the mass for the repose of the souls of brave men who had passed forever from scenes of strife.
Several days might be devoted to this edifice, so grand in its naves, columns, arches, stained windows, high al- tar and chapels. The celebrated marble group by Cou- stou — the Descent from the Cross — is a master-piece; and very beautiful are the illustrations of sacred subjects, delicately carved on the oaken choir-stalls and pulpit. However, it is impossible to stop to enumerate the vari- ous attractions in the body of the Cathedral, for the sa- cristy, with its gorgeous treasures, demands our time. Here are the ecclesiastical vestments worn at the mar- riage of the present Emperor, and those worn by Pius
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VII at the coronation of Napoleon I, — the coronation robes of Napoleon I, — a chalice set with precious stones, presented by Henry IV, — and several croziers and mitres of gold and silver. Our attention was particularly drawn to an ivory cross, presented to Mme. de la Valliere by Louis XIV, after she had entered the convent. The inscription read : “Louis XIV a Sceur Louise de la Mis - ericorde Carmelite , Mme . de la Valliere” What a com- mentary might here be made upon unholy love ! The unhappiness it occasioned served to turn the heart of the unhappy Louise to God ! After musing awhile over the vanities of the deceased Monarch, once so great in his be- wigged pride and flowing robes, I turned to the portraits of the Archbishops on the windows, one of whom was Denis Afire, who lost his life in the insurrection of 1848/ A splendid monument is erected to his memory in a chapel of the Cathedral, with his ever-memorable words : “Pu- . isse mon sang etre le dernier verse.” There is also a full- length portrait of Archbishop Denis Sibour, who was assassinated near the entrance of the Church of St. Eti- . enne du Mont, at one of its festivals, in 1857, by a priest named Verger. The priest was executed in the same month that the murder was committed. Another chapel is said to have received the remains of the hapless young Dauphin, son of Louis XVI ; and still another contains a monument to Cardinal de Belloy, the distinguished prelate who took part in the ceremonies at the coronation of Napoleon I. South of Notre Dame is the site where once stood the Archbishop’s palace, destroyed by the
H
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insurgents in 1831. A Gothic fountain, called Notre Dame , now marks the spot.
The Church of St. Sulpioe boasts a magnificent por- tico, with a double range of Doric columns, and is reached by a broad flight of steps. The corner-stone of the building was laid by Anne of Austria, but the struc- ture was not completed until after the lapse of a hundred years. Its architecture is of the Corinthian, Doric and Ionic styles. The frescoes in the side-chapels are rare and beautiful, and four of the most attractive paintings are those in the Chapel of Our Lady, representing The Annunciation, Visitation , Birth of the Savior , and Pre- sentation. The richly-carved organ displays seventeen figures playing on instruments, and chief among them is King David. Before entering the nave we saw the co- lossal shells for holy water, presented to Francis I by the Venetian Republic. The stained glass windows are of great merit. Fronting this beautiful church is the fountain of St. Sulpice, with statues of Fenelon, Bos- suet, Flechier and Massillon, and four recumbent lions.
During our wanderings in that quarter of the city, on the Boulevard St. Michel, we observed the magnificent fountain of the same name. St. Michael is represented overcoming the dragon. The water falls into five differ- ent basins, conveying the idea of a pronged shower. The city of Paris erected the fountain in 1860. These fountains that intersperse the city are great ornaments, most of them being richly sculptured. The sound of the falling water attracts the distant ear, and the sight of it pleases the eye, fatigued by the glare of innumera- ble buildings.
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We threaded the labyrinth of the Bon Marche, by reputation the cheapest magasin in Paris. Go when you will, there is a surging crowd to jostle you at every step, and the manner in which you are carried along and tossed about recalls the billows of the sea. The buzz of voices, the tramping t)f feet, the rapid gyrations of countless employes, and the haste with which purchases are made, combine to create a confusion too much for the head-piece, which invariably gives way ere the cash gives out. On leaving this Babel, we gladly turned to the freedom of the street, but soon found ourselves en- ticed into the Petit St. Thomas, another mammoth store, vieing with the Bon Marche in fine merchandise and moderate charges, but certainly more orderly, and not so much frequented by the poorer classes.
The boulevards, those superb streets, abounding in stores, cafes and restaurants, prove most attractive to the stranger. When one mingles with the crowd, and sees the bustle and fickle excitement of the Parisians, the false glare added to the brilliant show, — takes in an overwhelming glance of shop-treasures, and notes the march of progress everywhere — the mind conceives the full truth of Saxe’s lines :
“ Inventive France! what wonder-working schemes Astound the world whene’er a Frenchman dreams !
What fine-span theories, — ingenious, new,
Sublime, stupendous, everything but true !
One little favor, O ! Imperial France !
Still teach the world to cook, to dress, to dance;
Let, if thou wilt, thy boots and barbers roam ;
But keep thy morals and creeds at home.”
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A cocker should always be summoned for the Boulevard de Sebastopol in its magnificent extent, but one is always content 1 6 wear out shoes on the Boulevard des Italiens. where attractions multiply with every step. How busy and gay, with masses of people pushing on to some aim or business scheme, or for the ifecreation of mind and body — certainly a wide field for pleasure, as well as for observation and study. Here saunters along the student from the Latin quarter, who, if questioned, would doubt- less pronounce the atmosphere about the Grand Hotel far less buoyant than that of the Boulevard St. Michel. Daintily stepping, appears une jolie Americaine , with eyes intent upon some shop-marvel (a treasure of a thing in Valenciennes lace or some finely embroidered lingerie ) that calls forth an earnest ejaculation of praise, and at once loosens the clasp of her porte-monnaie . Here a newspaper vender brushes against a fashionably attired Marquise, just alighted from her coupe , and knocks from her careless hand a light parcel containing several pairs of delicately tinted gloves. They catch the dust of the street and are spoiled ; but the independent boy rushes on, protected by the “ liberty of the press,” or that which it gives to its employes. Now passes a distin- guished membre du Corps Legisloiif \ wearied from the discharge of parliamentary duties, all heedless of the bunch of violets which the meagre hand of a beautiful flower-girl thrusts before him ; then an actress or dan- seuse, upon whose countenance are traces of rouge and late hours ; the sewing-girl, returning from the modiste, where her needle has plied industriously nearly three-
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fourths of the day ; the prosperous banker ; the strug- gling musician, and the rich merchant ; lastly, the poor artist and author — the former giving to the world rare and splendid creations of his genius, the latter lofty and poetical thought, for which neither receives more than a tithe of the reward that is justly his. Whilst the ceaseless tramp is being kept up on this great thorough- fare, amid the sound of rolling carriages and many voices, a regiment of Zouaves advances with the French colors waving, and martial music fills the air, the strains dying away to give place to a favorite air of La Gi'andc Duchesse.
November 15. — An entertainment, in compliment to my arrival, proved an occasion of much enjoyment to me. Prominent among the guests was Mme. Zborow- ska, who wore her bridal dress — a delicate straw silk, covered with inimitable flounces of point d* Alenin lace. Miss Eddins, of Alabama, a delicate blonde, arrayed in white tulle, might well have passed for the “ white lady of Avenel.” Miss Gordon, of Ohio, always lovely; the intelligent and graceful Misses Gregory, of New York ; Mr. Jos. B. Varnura, of New York ; Mrs. Mygatt, a wealthy and interesting prize ; Mr. and Mrs. Coolidge, of New York ; Mrs. Fellows, of New York ; Colonel Hoffman, United States Legation; Mr. Ryan, of the New York Times; Mr. Nicolay, U. S. Consul; and Dr. Sims, our popular American physician, contributed vastly to the brilliancy of the occasion. After supper we entered into the dance with renewed spirit, caring for II*
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naught save “ badinage, music and mirth.” * * *
A few mornings since an interesting group of children gathered around our board at a dejeiiner a la fourchette. It was a kindly sight — those bright, winsome creatures, with their poupees , dressed like themselves quite a la mode . One of the parents, Gen. McClellan (who seems to find diversion in the fascinations of Paris), was pres- ent ; and another, the venerable Commodore Stevens, of New Jersey, filmed for his formidable battery, certainly gave no thought, on that day, to the pride of his declin- ing years, but seemed to revel in the mirth of rosy child- hood. Mr. Edward Gould Buffum, a talented gentleman attached to the New York Herald , looked in upon the juvenile party. The introduction of buckwheat cakes was received with great satisfaction, that article of food being scarcely known in France.
Novembei' 16. — Mr. and Mme. Z called for me
to drive to St. Germain en Laye, a distance of five leagues from Paris. The day was a golden one, and will ever remain such in its associations with beautiful scenes. How pure and delicious the air, as we escaped from the boundary of the city ! There arose majestically to view Mont Valerien, one of the strongest forts that defend Paris ! It lodges a garrison of 1,500 infantry, besides offi- cers of artillery, and an immense amount of material of war. Unfortunate the enemy that should come within range of its guns ! The mount is quite isolated, and from its summit there must be a fine view of the city. Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte of Baltimore is said to be stationed
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there. We stopped at Malmaison, once the home of Josephine and Napoleon, but were debarred the pleasure of visiting the chateau, it being closed by order of the
Emperor. The persuasive eloquence of Mme. Z
proved of no avail with the guard, and we had to rest content with a view of its exterior and of the grounds. How much of interest hangs around this spot, which witnessed the happiest days of Josephine, and the sor- rowful ones following her divorce — which calls up inter- esting historical scenes, and is also made sacred by her demise ! This last association recalls her sad and loving heart, her heroism under suffering, and the beautiful prayer uttered in her dying moments : “ Oh God ! watch over Napoleon while he remains in the desert of this world. Alas ! though he hath committed great faults, hath he not expiated them by great sufferings? Just God ! thou hast looked into his heart, and hast seen by how ardent a desire for useful and durable improvements he was animated. Deign to approve my last petition, and may this image of my husband bear me witness, that my latest prayers were for him and my children.” True and steadfast must have been the love embodied in her last words : u Elsie d’Elbe — Napoleon /” At Reuil, not far from Malmaison, the remains of Josephine are interred in the small village church. The monument, which represents her kneeling in prayer, bears naught but this simple inscription : “A. Josephine , Eugene et Hortense , 1825.” Hortense sleeps near Josephine, it being her last request to be buried beside her mother. The statue of the Queen is also in the kneeling attitude.
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Upon the base of the monument are engraved these words : “A la Heine Hortense , son fils Napoleon III” St. Germain en Laye is a town of 14,000 inhabitants, and is a favorite resort of English and French families during the summer, on account of its salubrious atmos- phere. It is said to be eighty-six metres above the level of the sea, and sixty-three above the Seine. The streets are irregularly laid out, and the town looks an- cient, compared with Paris. After viewing the chateau (now being restored to its former grandeur), we gained the noble terrace, where the scene presented was one of the most beautiful I had ever witnessed. It is one hun- dred feet wide, one and a-half miles in length, and affords a promenade unequaled. The landscape glowed with beauty— open fields and grassy spaces, little gar- dens bright with flowers and the vine, hills and dales studded thick wfth trees, the Seine in its meandering course, and the girdling forests of Vesinet. Mont Va- leri en’s height was not lost to view, nor was the tower of St. Denis. Even the Arc de Triomphe and the dome of Les Invalides at Paris lent a proud interest to the scene. Such was the panorama, lit up with glorious sunshine ! The pavilion of Henry IV overlooks a hol- low filled with shrubbery. There is a tradition that the spot upon which it stands was the birthplace of Louis XIV (a finely chiseled cradle on the building attesting it), but another gives it the honor of his baptism. Either event would suffice to invest it with interest ; and yet the purpose it serves now, viz. : that of a restaurant, although less distinguished, is certainly more in conso- nance with our utilitarian views.
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The St. Germain forest covers an area of eight thou- sand acres, with a circuit of nearly thirty miles, and all the routes are evenly laid out, their length being three hundred and eighty leagues. It was the rendezvous for the chase, and the names of many of the most distin- guished persons of various eras mark its avenues. Fran- cis I and Louia XIV contributed greatly towards its embellishment. We confined our promenade chiefly to the beautiful avenues near the chateau, where the sun- light glanced in and out among the trees, which are so regular in line and so uniform in shape as scarcely to vary an inch one from the other. Many a proud beauty has walked under the . shade of those forest trees (the chestnut, oak and elm), and down the broad avenues has swept many a courtly train, — the queep and the courtesan, — one throwing the witchery of pure love, the other the spell of unchaste affection over the place and its surroundings. Regretting the close of day, that put an end to our explorations, we lingered awhile in that grand open space fronting the clidteau, where the luxu- riant 'mignonette in beds, all bordered in green, gave out its delightful perfume. Our drive homeward was by lovely moonlight, and the enchantment of the scene had imbued us with a sentimentality which found vent in quotations from the poets, none of which, perhaps, were more appropriate or expressive than Shakspeare’s “ In such a night as this,” etc.
November 17. — An invitation to dinner, extended by my friends, Mr. and Mrs. D , at the Grand Hotel,
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afforded me a favorable opportunity of seeing by gas- light the magnificent saMe-a-manger. I experienced not a little pleasure in pacing the long corridors of the hotel and the beautiful reading-room — ground that had been so often trod in former years by relatives and friends, and rendered familiar by description. In the course of the evening we were joined by Mrs. Judge Field, of California, and Mr. and Mrs. Findla, of the same State.
* * * A huzzah for our navy has not only gone up from the shores of the Mediterranean, where now the great naval hero looks out upon his proud fleet, but here in gay Paris! A recent dinner-party chez notes was composed in part of the wives of those who gallantly wear the stars and anchors, and enjoy the distinction of being attached to the Farragut squadron. Who will not contend that the navy has no right to widow such attractive women by Sending their husbands on a cruise? Yet they should be willing to yield to a necessity that opens to them the charms of Paris. And Paris might be proud to claim for a season, however short, the bril- liant Mrs. Shirk, and Mrs. Moore, whose face Murillo might have chosen for a Madonna subject. * * *
My friend Miss T , who has the classic land of
Italy at heart, has just said farewell. May my hopes in that direction be realized before leaving Europe ! At present an opportunity offers to visit Belgium and Hol- land, and I gladly take up the wanderer’s staff.
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