The Youthful Wanderer Part 7

Galleries.

The Galerie d'Orleans in Palais Royal, is a good example. This lofty hall, forty feet wide and 300 feet long, extending between a double range of shops, connects the arcades extending around the other three sides of the inner court of that palace, (now turned into shops, bazaars, etc.)

Many of the grand boulevards and rues of Paris have been built since 1848, and the work of widening and improving old streets and building new ones is still going on with constantly increasing vigor.

There are now in progress of construction, broad boulevards, which can only be constructed at the sacrifice of many acres of some of the finest buildings in Paris; but only beauty and grandeur are regarded anything in this n.o.ble city, expenses being but little estimated. Notwithstanding the lavish expenditure of money upon this cla.s.s of improvements, Paris is, of all cities, perhaps the most prosperous on the globe.

Of the wide-spread destruction of public buildings, occasioned by the late war and the stormy days of the Commune, there are but few marks remaining.

The Palace of the Tuileries, Hotel de Ville, and a few other buildings, lie still in ruins; but the thirty or more churches which were either greatly damaged or quite demolished, and numerous other public edifices that have been destroyed, have already been restored--some of them with increased magnificence. Besides this, the French have almost finished paying their immense war-debt, while America, whose war ended seven years before theirs, is obliged to sail into the centennial year, still heavily freighted with the obnoxious burden.

Did heaven ever smile upon a more blessed city than Paris? To give the reader an idea of how buildings are torn down to make room for the purpose of extending fine streets, let us refer to the statistics concerning Rue de Rivoli. This street cost $30,000,000. It is two miles in length, and its establishment caused the demolition of upwards of one thousand houses!

Thirty millions of dollars, enough to pay for a tract of land that is twenty miles long and eleven miles wide, bought at the rate of $200 per acre; and all this expended on the improvement of two miles of road!

In the Old World, a strip of three to five or six story houses, several hundred feet wide and a quarter of a mile to upwards of a mile in length, is torn down with as much complacent indifference concerning the destruction, as men manifest in mowing so much gra.s.s!

As among the most fas.h.i.+onable places in Paris, may be mentioned, Boulevard des Italiens, Palais Royal, Champs Elysees, Jardin des Tuileries and other pleasure gardens and public squares. Boulevard des Italiens, in fair weather, is densely crowded with ladies and gentlemen seated on chairs hired for two to three sous (cents) each. The city clears over $7,000 a year from this source of revenue. But several hundred steps toward the west of this street stand the Academic de Musique (the most splendid opera-house in the world) and the Grand Hotel--two of the most brilliant edifices in the city.

Palais Royal,

as it now stands, was completed in 1786. This building, like most of the palaces in Europe, is built around a quadrangle, and its plan may be compared to a pupil's slate used for ciphering. The frame corresponds to the form or ground-plan of the buildings, and the slate, to the court or yard which they inclose. This inner court or garden, 700 feet long and 300 feet wide, containing nearly five acres of land, is planted with lime (linden?) trees from end to end, and two flower gardens. In the middle is a fine _jet d'eau_ (a fountain). "The garden was thus arranged in 1799; it contains bronze copies of Diane a la b.i.+.c.he of the Louvre, and the Apollo Belvedere; two modern statues in white marble, one of a young man about to bathe, by d'Espercieux; the other of a boy struggling with a goat, by Lemoine; Ulysses on the sea-sh.o.r.e, by Bra; and Eurydice stung by the snake, by Nanteuil, a fine copy in bronze, but more fitted for a gallery than the place it now occupies. Near this statue is a _solar cannon_, which is fired by the sun when it reaches the meridian, and regulates the clocks of Palais Royal."

From the privilege of supplying refreshments and from the hiring of chairs, the Government derives an annual rent of $7,000.

The shops under the arcades are chiefly devoted to articles of luxury, and are among the most elegant in Paris. Many restaurants are on the first floor; here, were formerly the gambling-houses which rendered this place so notorious. The best time for visiting Palais Royal is in the evening, when the garden and arcades are brilliantly illuminated and full of people. The shops of the watch-makers and the diamond windows are then particularly brilliant. In the most magnificent windows the articles have no price marks; but in the best windows in which the articles have price marks, I saw lockets priced $200; rings for $900; ear-rings for $1,000 a pair; a pair of diamond studs for $2,800; crosses for $320; and a necklace worth $3,000.

Palais Royal has been called the capital of Paris. During the early part of the first Revolution, its gardens became the resort of the most violent politicians; here, the tri-coloured c.o.c.kade was first adopted, and the popular party decided on many of its bolder measures.

There is little room for doubt, that the Cafe, one of the characteristic features of French society, is a potent factor in civilizing and refining the human race, in these latter times. Religion and intelligence--moral ideas, moral habits and the collective knowledge of our ancestors--has been transmitted from one generation to another down to our time, by the Church and the Schools, princ.i.p.ally. But the affairs of the human race have taken a new turn since the invention of printing, by which the steady development of traditional ideas has been arrested, so that the propriety of retaining the standards of ancient civilization as patterns for the present, is being questioned and discussed everywhere. In this great revolutionary era, the authority of the past and even the respect naturally due to parents is very generally disregarded. This latter sad feature of failing to do homage to the aged, is not more the result of a lack of love and esteem, on the part of children for their parents, than of the want of confidence which parents have in themselves. We can take an ill.u.s.tration from our young ladies. A few generations ago, the traditional white cap const.i.tuted the head-dress of the young maidens among the catechumens, when they presented themselves for the first time at the altar; now, in place of having all the heads look alike, every head must present a different phase. We still find sections in the Old World, where all the dresses of the young are "cut out of the same piece," so to say, and made after the same pattern, so that all the individuals of a company are almost as nearly dressed alike, as soldiers in uniform. Rev. Bausman, in his Wayside Gleanings, page 141, in describing the appearance of people at church in a certain section of Germany, portrays one feature in these words: "Very pleasant was it to see every lady, old and young, having her hymn book carefully folded in her white handkerchief." The clergy, and the monks and nuns in Europe display like uniformity in their dress. In every old picture or painting, representing a group or company of persons, it will be observed that all the individuals are dressed and combed after the same fas.h.i.+on.

This incessant yearning and seeking for something new is of recent date, and the key-note of a universal system of revolutions. Every season brings a new style of dress, and what is true of fas.h.i.+on is true of everything else. As it would ill become mothers to leave their family for a time and learn the milliners' trade, she makes choice of one of her daughters to be educated in that trade. This young girl after she has learned dressmaking takes the place of the mother in the matter of providing clothes for the family, and becomes in a large measure the mistress of the house. The same thing happens to the baking department of the family. A score of new kinds of pies and cakes have become fas.h.i.+onable in our day, and it is the daughters that have the greatest opportunity to earn this baking of pastries the quickest. The consequence is that the mother soon turns out to be only a _second rate cook!_ Fully aware that she can neither cook nor make dresses, she resigns her position as head of these departments, respectively to her daughters, who, when once master of the culinary and millinery, affairs, will soon be master of the balance of the household affairs. Need I say that the fathers of this generation are served about the same way by their sons? And it is the same between the teacher and the pupil. "Old fogy teacher" or "he has the old ways yet" are expressions that are too common to require any explanation. Happily, most old teachers have cleared the turf, and yielded their laurels to a host of youngsters, ranging in age from about sixteen to twenty years! Thus all difficulties are surmounted in this line, and "Young America" has the reins to himself!

Look at the improvements that have resulted from the efforts of inventive genius, and at the progress that the arts and sciences have made. We are in a _new world_, so different from that of our forefathers, that their experiences count almost nothing in this new era. It is a sad picture to see the young and the inexperienced thus groping in the dark, but it is the inevitable consequence of the new turn that things have taken since the inauguration of the _age of reason_ [dating from the introduction of printing (?)], Nevertheless, the young would display much greater prudence, if they would bring many of their schemes and purposes to a lower temperature by sitting still when age rises to speak, and were they to take heed of the counsels and admonitions of those who are older than themselves.

This radical change in the affairs of the world being recognized, it becomes apparent how the power and influence of the Church and Schools must abate in a measure, and give scope, for a season, to a cla.s.s of inst.i.tutions more fitted for revolutionary times. This transition era will likely be marked as a glacial period in the history of religion, during which time rationalism and infidelity will possibly be rampant in Europe, if indeed they do not even establish their dominion in America, But we may hope for a calm after the storm, when things will be steadied down again to a smooth and even flow. In this our time, the transition era, theaters, operas, cafes and the printing press, will play a very important part; the press for the literary public in general, the theaters and operas for the social benefit of the upper cla.s.s and the cafe for the middle and _large cla.s.s_, the cla.s.s which give shape and character to the predominant methods of social evolution. The first cafe in Paris was established in 1697 by an Armenian, and like the establishment of the Hippodrome in New York by Barnum, was a success from the beginning. These inst.i.tutions increased rapidly in number under Louis XV., and became the favorite resort of distinguished individuals. At present, they abound in every quarter, and justly rank among the most remarkable features of the city, being very generally decorated with unrivaled costliness and splendor.

Besides coffee, wine, beer and other refreshments, they frequently provide breakfast, and many of them also dinners and suppers. In 1874, there were over 6,000 cafes in Paris, doing business to the amount of $24,000,000 annually, or an average income of $4,000 to each establishment! The furniture of the cafe and the plan of conducting its business resembles that of our fas.h.i.+onable ice-cream saloons more than any other establishment that we are acquainted with. The halls are furnished with little tables or marble-stands surrounded by chairs or costly sofas, and every person that enters, is expected to order some kind of drink or refreshment as soon as he has taken his seat. Both s.e.xes frequent them alike, and a grand sight it is to see a brilliant company of ladies and gentlemen sitting in groups and couples about these gorgeously decorated halls, enjoying their wine and each other's company, thus presenting scenes of gayety and festive pleasure that are seldom outvied, even in the ball-room and the opera in this country. A band of musicians render music from an elevated platform all evening, and an open s.p.a.ce in front of the platform is provided for the accommodation of those who delight in the dance. The waiting girls of these cafes are usually ladies of remarkable beauty and refinement, whose elegant dresses, graceful manners and rare accomplishment in conversation and address, are well in keeping with the charming brilliancy of the hall, and the merryand refined company around them.

It is astonis.h.i.+ng how cheap these splendid accommodations of the cafe, almost princely in their style, can be rendered. A person may enter a cafe early in the evening, sit down with his friends and acquaintances, order a gla.s.s of wine or beer and enjoy the best music and the pleasures of the most refined society for an hour or two, and when he leaves, his purse is only from three to eight cents the poorer for it. A gentleman may take a lady to the cafe _five_ evenings in a week, for between thirty cents and a dollar. He may spent twice as much or even ten or fifty times as much, if he washes to spend his time in a building whose very window sashes and external ornamentations glitter with gold; but such a lavish expenditure of money is not _required_ to be comfortable and happy. These cafes are very orderly houses. It is not fas.h.i.+onable to consume a gla.s.s of wine or beer in less than half an hour, and many drink the whole evening at one gla.s.s. No one can get drunk at this rate, and any one who would drink fast and should become wild, he would not be tolerated in the cafe, as no lady would remain in his society.

There are some fast drinking-houses even in Paris, and more in some sections of Germany, but even those sent few or no drunk men upon the streets. A fellow that would stagger upon the pavement would be conducted to the station house at once. I did not see a single drunk person in Paris in half a month's stay, and only several in the rest of my tour through Europe. It is an encouraging sign of the times, that the cafe is being introduced in America. May it soon take the place of our gambling-halls and drinking-h.e.l.ls. See what Macaulay says of the Cafe, as he is quoted by Webster in his Unabridged Dictionary under the word Coffee-house.

Champs Elysees,

Champs Elysees, (p.r.o.n. Shangs-ai-le-zai), a term equivalent to "The Elysian Fields" of the Greeks, is perhaps the most charming place in the world. It is a paradise in reality, as its names implies; and during the summer evenings, when its many thousand gas jets blaze in globes of various colors, and the magnificent illuminations of its grand cafes produce a brilliancy of coloured light intense enough to see pins on its walks and flower-beds, the scenes become grand beyond description. Immense throngs of people gather around the cafes in the evening to see the youths and beauties whirl in the mazy dance, and listen to the bewitching strains of the sweet music there rendered. It is not a rare thing to see spectators go into raptures on these occasions, for I have seen few places where nature and art so harmonize and unite in producing scenes of enchanting beauty and creating feelings of ecstatic delight, as here on Champs Elysees. The atmosphere of Paris, too, is preeminently soft and balmy, and the temperature so even that ladies may sit in the most brilliant attire all evening in the open air under the trees of this pleasure-garden without the least danger of contracting a cold. One of the first evenings that I enjoyed these scenes of indescribable beauty, I could not help but observe to my companion, that the finest poetical descriptions of a celestial Paradise, were not ideal representations of imaginary pleasures, but true word images of the joys and beauties of the "Elysian Fields" (Champs Ely sees) in Paris.

The buildings which front upon this lovely place are among the most elegant in the city, being finely painted, even on the outside, like those in the boulevards. I saw one, whose balconies were all gilt, from the bottom to the attic story, reminding one of the splendor of the foremost royal mansions.

Palais de l'Elysee, lies contiguous to this place and gave origin to its name. It was a favorite residence of Napoleon I. When he returned from Elba, he occupied it until after the defeat of Waterloo. It was also the official residence of Napoleon III. while he was President of the French Republic. At present it is occupied by Marshal MacMahon during the recesses of the National a.s.sembly.

In about the center of Champs Elysees, is the Palais de l'Industrie, the great Exhibition Buildings, in which the World's Fair was held in 1855.

The Avenue des Champs Elysees intersects Champs Elysees, and is a mile and a quarter in length. Its foot-pavements are twelve feet wide, This is the favorite walk of the gay Parisians.

"On sunny winter-days, or cool summer-evenings numerous parties of all cla.s.ses are seen, enjoying the lively spectacle before them, seated on iron chairs hired for three or four sous, (cents), or on the wooden benches placed at intervals on the sides of the avenue, while elegant carriages roll in procession along the road."--_Galignani's Paris Guide_.

Place de la Concorde, called Place de la Revolution in 1792, (when the guillotine was erected here), is at the east end of Champs Elysees, adjoining the Jardin des Tuileries. The square is enclosed with bal.u.s.trades, upon which stand eight colossal statues of the chief provincial cities. In the center of it stands the Obelish of Luxor. This magnificent monument of ancient Egypt, was brought to Paris in 1833 and erected in 1836. It weighs 250 tons, and to transport it from Thebes to the place where it now stands required three years. It is one of two monoliths that stood in front of the great temple of Thebes, where they were erected 1550 years before Christ. Both of them were given to the French Government, by Mehemet All, Viceroy of Egypt, "in consideration of advantages conferred by France on Egypt in aiding to form the a.r.s.enal and naval establishment of Alexandria." Only one was removed. It is 72 feet 3 inches high. Its greatest width is 7 feet 6 inches at the base, and 5 feet 4 inches at the top. The pedestal upon which it stands, is 15 feet by 9 feet at the bottom and 8 feet at the top, and weighs 120 tons.

The transportation and re-erection of this obelisk cost the French Government about $400,000. A dear present! No wonder that they did not go to fetch the other one.

Galignani enumerates the following events which occurred here and rendered the Place de la Concorde famous:

"July 12, 1789.--A collision between Prince de Lambesc's regiment and the people became the signal for the destruction of the Bastille.

"Jan. 21, 1793.--Louis XVI. suffered death on this place.

"From Jan. 21, 1793, to May 3, 1795, more than 2,800 persons were executed here by the guillotine.

"Feb. 23, 1848.--The first disturbances that ushered in the memorable revolution of that year took place here.

"Feb. 24, 1848--Flight of Louis Philippe and his family by the western entrance of the Tuileries Garden.

"Nov. 4, 1848.--The Const.i.tution of the Republic was solemnly proclaimed here, in the presence of the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly.

"Sept. 4, 1870.--The downfall of Napoleon III. and the Third Republic proclaimed, after the disaster of Sedan.

"May 22, 1871.--A desperate conflict between the Versailles troops and the Communists, the latter in their retreat setting fire to public and private Bubldings."

Jardin des Tuileries,

A pleasure-garden over fifty acres in extent (containing flower-beds, an extensive orangery, trees, statues and fountains) intervenes between Place de la Concorde and the Palace of the Tuileries, and, in connection with Champs Elysees, const.i.tutes a continuous garden and park whose total length is over a mile and three quarters.

This magnificent reservation penetrates almost to the heart of the city.

Its width is in one place nearly half a mile, being about one fifth of a mile wide at the Tuileries on the east, while it tapers down to about 450 feet (the width of Avenue des Champs Elysees) at the Arch of Triumph on the west end of it. The Avenue des Champs Elysees and the princ.i.p.al avenue in the Tuileries Garden are in a perfectly strait line, so that a person standing in the center of the avenue at the Tuileries will see both sides of the Arch of Triumph, nearly two miles away from him; while the center is concealed from his view by the Obelisk of Luxor standing in the center of Place de la Concorde, as above described. Stepping a few yards to either side throws the obelisk out of the way and affords one a perfect view of that n.o.ble arch (one of the most stately monuments in existence).

The tourist can not approach that imposing monument called

Arc de Triomphe de L'Etoile