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"The Carnival was prohibited in 1790, and not resumed till Bonaparte was elected first consul." Great was the joy of the Parisians when the Carnival was again restored!
The Opera-house referred to in the extract above quoted, is the Academie Nationals de Musique, or French Opera-house, also sometimes called the new Opera-house. It is generally admitted to be the finest Opera-house in the world. The s.p.a.ce covered by this magnificent building is 140 metres by 122, (about 470 feet by 410), or nearly four and a half acres. It has seats for 2,520 spectators. The staircases, walls and ceiling are of the finest marble. The "house" for the spectators or audience is built entirely of stone and iron, rich in decorations and thick with gold. The stage alone is a quarter of an acre in extent, being 128 feet wide by 85 feet long. Below the stage there is a depth of 47 feet, from which the scenes are drawn up all in one piece. This abyss below the stage was obtained at an immense cost, as the architect had to lay the foundations far below a subterranean body of water, but the advantage thus gained enables them to present scenes that are marvelous. "The singers in this opera are pupils of the Conservatoire, and the _corps de ballet_ consists of the most distinguished dancers of the day. Great attention is paid to costume and general effect." During the matchless performances of a night that I was present, there were at one time nine large horses and a procession of several hundred actors upon the stage, and it was far from being full. One of the most beautiful and astounding performances of the night was the production of a series of transformations that were as sudden and as astonis.h.i.+ng in their developments as is the metamorphosis of the gaudy b.u.t.terfly from the groveling worm. As the curtain rose there stood upon the stage a mighty fortress, ma.s.sive and strong. We had seen it but long enough to observe how thick and how rough from age its weather-beaten walls were, when there was heard a crash, and the mighty citadel had fallen out of sight; but there still remained a most beautiful castle which must have been contained inside of the citadel but hid from the view by its towering walls. This castle was beautiful beyond description. It was fairer far than the castles of the kings seem to be, except when "distance lends enchantment to their view." But the second scene was as ephemeral as the first. We beheld its fascinating beauties only a few seconds when its four walls again dropped into the abyss below, and there issued from its inner apartment a host of beautiful little actresses such as I did not see upon any other stage in Europe. These little fairy-like beauties, many perhaps not more than from 5 to 10 years of age, all dressed in the most brilliant costumes, at once skipped into a dance "running the ring and tracing the mazy round," to the great satisfaction of the admiring spectators, who were as much delighted by the gayety, grace and accomplishment which they displayed in their performances, as they have been astonished at their sudden and almost miraculous appearance.
At a Ball.
Dancing is the favorite amus.e.m.e.nt in Paris, and these exercises are conducted on a grand scale, even during the summer season. I attended a Public Ball one evening, when almost the entire floor (covering nearly three fourths of an acre) and the adjoining garden of about the same area, were thronged by thousands of gay and jovial dancers, all wild from the excitement produced by the rhythmical motions and music of that playful exercise.
Incidents.
The reader can not be more curious to know how one that is unacquainted with the French language can get along in Paris, than I was when I first took up my residence there. The first morning I went out to seek some place where I might get fresh milk; _Lait_ is the French name of it as I found it in my conversational guide book. I soon found that name upon a card of pasteboard hanging at the door of a shop where bread and fruits were displayed in the window. On entering the store a clever Frenchman politely addressed me, but he soon discovered that I was none of the _loquacious_ kind, in French. I asked for _lait_, p.r.o.nouncing the word as if it was spelt l-a-t-e, but he did not understand me. I could adorn my conversation neither with verbs nor with adjectives, so I repeated the word _lait_ several times with the rising inflection, by which he readily inferred that I wanted something, though what that something was, remained a mistery to him, all the same. By and by, I pointed out the word lait to him, on seeing which, he exclaimed "---- du la!" and gave me what I wanted. Thereafter I visited him from two to five times every day, according to convenience, to get my "du l[=a]_it!_". Of "du pa_in_"
(bread) and smoked sausages, I constantly kept a supply in my satchel, so that when I entered a new city, I could well get along until I had become acquainted. Fruits and a very healthy and nutricious kind of nuts, (the Brazilian nuts), I bought in great abundance and exceedingly cheap from such as hawked them about on the streets. Five to ten centimes (1 to 2 cents) would buy 7 or 8 large Brazilian nuts and 6 to 8 fine juicy pears, or as many delicious plums, of which I was extremely fond. By thus reducing the number and variety of my dishes at the regular meals, I only enhanced the pleasures of the palate instead of reducing them; for he who "does not eat but when he is hungry, nor drink except when he is thirsty,"
will enjoy the humblest meal much more than the pampered dedauchee can relish the richest feast. As beer does not please my palate, and because the water fountains of Paris were often out of my reach when I was thirsty, I soon took fruit to supply the place of drink, and thus, in Paris already, I laid the foundation of a dietary system that ensured me not only health, happiness and convenience of procuring it alike in all countries, but that proved to be very economical too. For from 40 to 60 cents a day, I supplied all the necessaries, and more of the luxuries of life, than most of us are accustomed to, even in voluptuous America.
Chapter IX.
Versailles.
On my voyage across the Atlantic, I had formed the friends.h.i.+p of a young clergyman, (Rev. O.), of New York, who wished to make a summer vacation tour through western Europe, visiting Ireland, Scotland, England, France, Italy, Switzerland and Germany. On comparing programmes, we noticed that he would likely come to Paris during the time that I had alotted to that city. We therefore agreed that each should drop a letter to the other, immediately after reaching Paris, so that he who should happen to come last might at once know where to find the other. One evening, when I came home, the card of Rev. O., my American friend, was handed to me by the landlord, who informed me by his gestures that he had been there to call on me. The card was backed by a note asking me to meet him at No.--, Rue--------. Though that street is perhaps not more than an eighth of a mile long, I soon found it upon my map of Paris, which was a very excellent one, as the maps of all large foreign cities generally are and must be, in order that persons who cannot speak the languages of those cities, may still be able to find any places without asking any one where they are or which way to go. The map of Paris, for example, is divided into numerous squares by arbitrary lines. Those which run vertically down the map are lettered, and those which cross it horizontally are numbered.
At the side of the map is a table of all the streets, with references to the squares on the map, designating between what lines they are found, or which they intersect. By the aid of such a map, I started out the next morning to meet my friend, whose quarters were in a distant part of the city, about three miles away. I found him without difficulty. He was accompanied by two gentlemen from London that had come with him to see Paris and its environs. It is both novel and pleasant for two such lonely pilgrims as my New York friend and I were when we left home, to meet each other again in a foreign city, and introduce to each other the friends which one picked up by the way. We soon agreed to go all together to Versailles, the French Capital, that day. This was Tuesday, July 27th. At 10:40 a.m., we crossed the fortifications of Paris, and soon came into view of Bois de Boulogne, the great park of Paris. Five minutes later we crossed the Seine at St. Cloud, a small town, where we stopped to see the ruins occasioned by the siege of Paris in 1870. We had considerable trouble, however, in identifying the strongholds and redoubts held by the Prussians in that memorable siege, as n.o.body seemed to understand any of our French! On one occasion, Rev. O., while asking a lady for a certain place, called on Mr. K----, one of the Londoners, to come and see whether he could make this woman understand any of _his_ French! It was altogether a day of odd adventures and fun. After enjoying the lovely prospects an hour, we walked another hour in great perplexity as to what directions we should take to find a railway station where we might take a train for Versailles, but finally succeeded. We did not understand more from those who directed us, than the direction we should take, never knowing the distance. It is more than a joke, for a party to be obliged to walk several miles for a station, when they had expected to reach it in a quarter or half a mile at most! When we arrived at the station at Sevres, our difficulties only commenced. "When will the next train leave for Versailles, and where can we procure our tickets?" were questions which engaged our best energies and all our ingenuity for half an hour, besides a rash adventure on my part, before they were solved. (It seems to me now, that throughout my tour, I always got into more trouble when I had company to rely upon, than when I was alone). By means of motions with our hands and by p.r.o.nouncing the name Versailles, we made them understand where we intended to go to; but when we asked for "billets," they did not offer us any. They showed us, however, that the train was due at 1:10, by pointing out those figures on the dial of the clock. About 15 minutes before the train was due, we asked again for tickets, and when they were again refused, we began to fear that the tickets had to be procured on the opposite side of the railroad. We therefore crossed by a foot-bridge near the station, but could not approach the house on the other side, on account of the high fence which shut every body off from the tracks. When our plans were thus frustrated our company became alarmed with the fear that we might miss the train for want of tickets, and fail to see Versailles that day. At this crisis I ascended the bridge and climbed down along the walls on the inside of the fence; suspending myself from the lowest iron bars along the bridge, I thus dropped myself into the yard below! But our discouragement reached its climax, when I found that the door was closed and locked, which we had hoped was the ticket office. I could not get out of that inclosure, as the fences were high, the gates locked and the bridge from which I had dropped myself, was out of my reach. Several railroad men saw me immediately, who appeared as much astonished at my coming into that place, as I was perplexed in my awkward position. I did not misinterpret their French this time, however, for the way they looked up toward the sky, and their gestures and chattering, plainly indicated that they wondered where I came from. I motioned them that I came "from above," and pointed toward the bridge. What fine or punishment might have been inflicted for my intrusion I do not know, but I was only rebuked in language which I did not understand, and sent out through one of the office doors which they unlocked for the purpose. My companions were now in great glee at this termination of my adventure, one of them observing that I might soon be landed in _close quarters_, at my present rate of progress! I responded that we were a party corporate, and that three fourths of what any one did was to the credit of the other three. The train soon came, and we took our places on the top of the cars and rode on to Versailles. This was the only ride I had in two-story railway cars, but our trip was such a delightful one in the second story of those cars, that I often wished for like accommodations again.
The National a.s.sembly was in session when we reached Versailles, but we could not gain admittance. We immediately went to the Palace, which is devoted to the reception of a rich and splendid historical museum unparalleled in Europe. There are altogether some 34 salles or galleries, which require upwards of an hour to walk through. The paintings are arranged chronologically, and it is this cla.s.sification, as well as the magnitude of the collection, that render the museum one of the most famous in Europe. Adjoining this palace, are the gardens and park, upon the establishment and improvement of which, Louis XIV., (1616) spent $200,000,000! This immense sum would pay a tract of land 100 miles long and 10 miles wide, bought at $300 per acre! Many millions have since been spent upon it. It is at the present day one of the finest pleasure-gardens in Europe. Its fountains are among the most magnificent in existence.
These are made to play only once (the first Sunday) every month; to supply the water in sufficient aboundance for this magnificent display, costs on each occasion $2,000! It is a source of the purest happiness for a party of Republicans, as ours was, to see the very palace and gardens which Napoleon III. once occupied as a royal mansion, now held as the common property and the peaceful promenade of the pleasure-seeking ma.s.ses. How changed the scene! That which was prepaired for the king, is now enjoyed by the common people. Such are the fruits of the French Republic, which has now broken the fetters of royalty for the third time.
On Sunday, August 1st., I visited this garden and park again, this time to see the fountains play. It is impossible to do justice to this pleasure-garden even in two days. In the center is the grand ca.n.a.l 186 feet wide and nearly a mile long, intersected at right angles by another ca.n.a.l that is 3,000 feet long. My rambles were confined to the section intervening between the palace and the Ba.s.sin d'Apollon, which is at the nearer end of the Grand Ca.n.a.l. The fountains and jets in this section, north and south of the Allee du Tapis Vert (green lawn), are almost innumerable. They do not all play at the same time, so the crowd can follow them from basin to basin until Neptune with his numerous jets, the last and the greatest of them all, is reached. The Terra.s.se du Chateau with Silenus, Antinous, Apollo and Bacchus, after the antique, lies next to the palace. Immediately below is the Parterre d'Eau, upon whose border repose twenty-four magnificent groups in bronze, namely, eight groups of children, eight nymphs and the four princ.i.p.al rivers of France, with their tributaries. Toward the left of this lies the Parterre du Midi, and still further south, along the palace, lies the Orangerie. A flight of 103 steps lead down to an iron gate on the road to Brest.
Parterre de Latone lies in advance of Parterre d'Eau, which two paterres (pits) the Allee du Tapis Vert (green carpet) and the Grand Ca.n.a.l, lie in a straight line and present a charming view nearly a mile and a quarter in length. Ba.s.sin Latone is surrounded by a semi-circular terrace crowned with yew-trees and a range of statues and groups in marble. (It would require the s.p.a.ce of a volume to describe all the fine statuary of this garden). This fountain consists of five circular basins rising one above the other in the form of a pyramid, surmounted by a group of Latona with Apollo and Diana. "The G.o.ddess implores the vengeance of Jupiter against the peasants of Libya, who refused her water, and the peasants, already metamorphosed, some half, and others entirely, into frogs and tortoises, are placed on the edge of the different tablets, and throw forth water upon Latona in every direction, thus forming liquid arches of the most beautiful effect." Walking down the green velvet lawn, we came to the Ba.s.sin d'Apollon. Apollo, the G.o.d of Day, is emerging from the water in a chariot drawn by four horses, and surrounded by a throng of sea-monsters.
Several other fountains represent the seasons. Spring is represented by Flora and Summer by Ceres. Winter appears in a group representing Saturn surrounded by children; and Bacchus, reclining upon grapes and surrounded by infant satyrs, represents Autumn. Near the Tapis Vert, in the midst of a dense grove, is a magnificent rotunda composed of 32 marble columns, united by arches and supporting a number of marble vases. Under the arcades, are a circular range of fountains, "and in the middle is a fine group of the Rape of Proserpine."
The largest and most splendid fountain in the park, is the Ba.s.sin de Neptune. Upon its southern border stand 22 ornamental vases, each with a jet in the center. Against the same side, are three colossal groups in lead. The central one represents Neptune and Amphitrite seated in an immense sh.e.l.l and surrounded by tritons, nymphs and sea-monsters. On the left is Ocea.n.u.s resting upon a sea-unicorn, and on the right, Proteus, the son of Ocea.n.u.s. There are several other groups; and from the jets of these, amounting to some 55 or 60 in all, issues a deluge of water, when the gates are opened. A quarter of an hour in advance of the appointed time, about 15,000 persons had a.s.sembled upon the circular terrace, facing this magnificent fountain, and were waiting with breathless anxiety to see old Neptune take his turn. We had seen the wonders and beauties presented by the other fountains as they shot their silvery columns, and clouds of vapor high into the air, or spanned their pyramidal basins with innumerable liquid arches intersecting each other in every conceivable direction; but the grandest sight, it was said, was still in store for us.
All the other fountains had commenced their playing with humble spasms--the columns rising higher by degrees, but old Neptune took every body by surprise. Hundreds leaped and shouted for joy, when they saw that the southern heavens, which had been so clear and beautiful but a moment before, were suddenly whitened with clouds of vapor upon which the rays of the western sun produced a most charming effect. A gentle breeze gave to each spouting jet, a misty tail, comet-like in appearance to the admiring spectators.
An Incident
which added much to my pleasures and enjoyments of that glorious day, deserves notice here, as it ill.u.s.trates that if one even starts to make the tour of the world alone, so that he may not be detained by the loiterings of a companion whose tastes and fancies differ from his, need not therefore be without pleasant a.s.sociates when he is in want of them.
Early in the afternoon, as I was about taking my seat under the shade of a yew-tree on a terrace where I might have a fair view of Ba.s.sin de Latone, (the play of whose liquid arches render it the most _beautiful_ of all in the garden), I was accidentally met by the same English party with whom I had traveled from London to Paris. It was a happy meeting indeed, and the incidents of our walks and conversations upon that pleasure-garden will ever remain fresh and green on memory's tablet. They had finished their tour of Germany and returned in time to spent the great day of the month at Versailles. As the band was discoursing excellent music, the fountains playing, and crowds of people streaming hither and thither in the midst of these splendid scenes, one of the ladies pa.s.sed a remark which I only learned to appreciate fully, several months afterwards. She said, "_I love the quiet English Sabbath_." Her father had experienced before what the continental Sabbath was, but his daughters, though they appreciated these charming scenes none the less, would have preferred them on week-days; for, nearly a month of sight-seeing among a people who keep no Sundays such as we do, had made them long for a day of sweet and silent repose.
Several months later, after I had traveled through France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland and Italy, without finding a day of rest such as England and America make of their Sundays, I felt that even the pleasure-seeker should rest one day in seven. Often thought of the "quiet English" and American Sabbaths.
Chapter X.
Leaving Paris.
On the 6th of August, after a stay of fifteen happy days in Paris, I began to make preparations to leave for Brussels. I had walked during that time according to my daily register, about 140 miles, making an average of over 9 miles per day, for I could not avail myself of the omnibuses and city cars, as I had done in London; because I could not make myself understood in French.
Paris had presented so much that was new or radically different from what I had seen elsewhere in the world, even London not excepted, that I felt justified in addressing the following conclusion to an American journalist:--In Paris, there is such a harmonious combination of civilizing and refining instrumentalities and influences, which, if I do not elsewhere find a nearer approach to than I have thus far, will not only throw sufficient light upon the question, "How does she lead the nations in thought and fas.h.i.+on," that the most thoughtless may be able to solve it, but which will even ent.i.tle her to be styled _queen of cities and Capital of the social world._
As I had definitely decided to return from Egypt to America by way of Paris, in order that I might see the great city once more toward the end of my tour, and be the better qualified to estimate her true position in the world, I made a little bundle of the guide books and views, which I had already acc.u.mulated on my trip, and also dropped some of the superfluities of my wardrobe--these things I gave into the care of my chamberlain, and bade good-by to Paris for a season. My friend and tutor Prof. P.S., accompanied me to the station and bought me a ticket for Brussels, as we call it in our language, but the French and Belgians call it Bruixelle (p.r.o.n. Broo-[)i]x-el). My friend informed me of this and gave me a drill on p.r.o.nouncing the word correctly, for if I should have called it Brussels, no Frenchman would have understood what I meant. I was now about to leave the only acquaintance that could speak my language, and go to another people of the same strange language as the Parisians speak, with no right to expect that I should be so lucky again in meeting a suitable companion. I had ordered my mail to be forwarded to Cologne, Germany, until September 1st. At 11:15 p.m., August 6th, the train moved away with me toward Belgium.
I had forgotten to ask how often and where I must "change cars" from Paris to Brussels, and now, where no one understood either English or German, what could be done! Possibly, I need not make a change all night; and perhaps I should at the next station already! How readily my friend could have informed me, had I only asked him! But I managed to keep the right track, though at the expense of considerable anxiety and the sacrifice of some rest and sleep that I might otherwise have enjoyed during that night-journey. I learned a lesson, however, which aided me in avoiding such perplexities in the future. As soon is we reached the first station, I ran to a conductor and, holding up my ticket, cried out, "Broox-el?" He understood me and motioned me to keep my seat. Some accommodating Frenchman soon told me that he was traveling the same way for a considerable distance, (as his ticket also made clear to me), and offered kindly to inform me when I had to leave that train. My peace of mind being thus restored again, I made a pillow of my satchel and went to sleep.
The next forenoon (Sat.u.r.day, August 7th) we reached Douane, where we had to pa.s.s muster under the Belgian custom-house officers. I was now with the wooden-shoed Belgians. A large company of the poor peasants pa.s.sed muster with me. Each was provided with a pick or a hoe, or both, lying over his shoulder, and a large flaxen bag of other implements, &c., suspended from it. Nearly all wore caps, and the whole company looked very shabby, indeed. My clothes were in strange contrast with their tattered garments, for there was not another well-dressed pa.s.senger in the whole company; and I felt like one out of his element, because I did not also have a pick or hoe! A hundred Belgians with a hundred bundles crowded into several small apartments of the station, found little room for their, careers, which consisted of the irony ends of their picks and hoes, so that those occasionally hooked the prominent points of the faces of those immediately behind them! Strange to say, these collisions did not provoke any to insults or the use of vulgar adverbs, but gentle reproofs kept them all cool and steady till we entered the cars again. The reader will pardon me for saying that a similar crowd of persons in this country, placed under the same tempting and exasperating circ.u.mstances, would have created a row in five minutes, as would be the natural consequence if there were but a single ruffian in the whole lot. Nothing will strike the American tourist more when he comes to the Old World, than the good order which prevails everywhere. To meet two persons scolding and insulting each other, is an extremely rare occurrence. The orderly behavior of such a company of peasants will impress one more with the importance of teaching the young, lessons of patience, humility and _obedience_ (which latter quality of character is the mother of a hundred virtues), than volumes of dry philosophy on social ethics will generally avail.
I saw an elderly lady kiss a middle-aged man alternately upon each cheek; an incident that is common in European social life, and that shows how the affections of the heart are cultivated and find expression. In Brussels I saw a son rest his hand affectionately upon his mother's shoulder, as they stood amongst the mult.i.tude in a public square.
I reached Bruixelle (Brussels) at about three o'clock in the afternoon. In order to see what kind of money was in circulation in Belgium, I immediately bought some pears of a fruit-woman, and handed her half a franc (10 cents). You may imagine how I was perplexed when the lady handed me a dozen coins of various sizes and values, as my change. Knowing, however, that though the coins had different impressions, the-system was the same as that of French money, I murmered to myself, "Blessed be the Decimal System," and went to some retired quarter to count it! One piece was a large whitish coin marked 10c., and worth 2 cents in our money; others were centimes, which are equivalent to but one fifth of our cent! I soon learned to know them all.
After having taken a long walk through the city, I engaged a room at a hotel where one of the boarders could speak a little English, and soon retired to take an afternoon nap. I awoke to broad daylight, but did not at once know whether it was _that day_, or _the next day already_; and there was no one about, just then, whom I could have asked! As the sun was standing in the western sky, I concluded that it was more likely that I had slept only a few hours, than that I should have slept 27 hours; and when the landlord was contended with the payment of one night's lodging, I felt satisfied that I could not have stayed two nights with him! On Sat.u.r.day afternoon, after my nap, I went out again to see the city.
Brussels is one of the most progressive capitals in all Europe. Several splendid boulevards lined with fine cafes and large edifices adorned with innumerable balconies, reminded me of Paris and its architectural scenery.
It has a pa.s.sage that compares well, both in brilliancy and magnificence, with some of the grandest in Paris. The Bourse de Commerce, (just completed), with its four elegant facades, would do credit to any city, and its market houses are among the finest that I have ever seen.
On Sunday (August 8th) I found all kinds of business being transacted, just as is done in Paris. On my way to the Cathedral, I met a dozen dog-teams that Sunday morning. Quite a small dog will draw a larger cart load of milk, than I would have expected that half a dozen of them could pull. The milk is distributed over the city by women, princ.i.p.ally. It seems strange, how much work must be done by the women, where the men are required to spend a large portion of their time in the service of their respective countries, const.i.tuting the large standing armies with which Europe is flooded. Some of these women have large dogs to draw their milk-carts, others have smaller ones. .h.i.tched to one side and a.s.sist them by pulling themselves on the other side of the shaft!
The Cathedral (St. Gudule),
is a grand old church, some portions of it dating from the 13th and 14th centuries. "It is rich in old stained gla.s.s and monuments. The carved wooden pulpit by Verbruggen (1699) represents the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise." The choir renders excellent music. An odd feature in the religious exercises of this church, is the manner in which the choir is noticed when to sing, by the ringing of a common bell.
Hotel de Ville.
Hotel de Ville (the Town Hall) is an elegant building dating from the 15th century. It is four stories high to the roof, besides there are 4 rows of dormer-windows in the roof (four stories in the garret!) Its graceful tower is 506 (?) steps, 364 feet high. The view from the top is magnificent. Behind this building, at the crossing of two fine streets, stands the curious "mannikin ----" statue and fountain, evidently a relic of the _shameless age_.
I spent some of my time with an intelligent merchant who had been traveling in America, and could, in consequence, speak the English quite well. He informed me that he was not aware that Belgium had any Sunday-laws upon her statutes. Any one may do upon the Sabbath-day everything that he might do on week-days, if he feels so inclined. On Sunday afternoon, I left Brussels for Antwerp (Anvers). Nothing can be more delightful than the rural scenery of Belgium. The whole country is as carefully tilled as a garden--every foot of available soil being under cultivation. Most of the dwelling houses are small, but everything about the houses, yards and gardens is kept in the most perfect order.
Occasionally, a beautiful vista opens to a fine residence in the distance.
As we rode along in the cars, we would occasionally see an afternoon or evening party seated around a richly laden table glittering with gla.s.sware, and enjoy their dinners and suppers under some shade trees in the midst of their gardens. This custom is common in Europe, and presents most beautiful and homely sights.
Soon after I had entered the cars, I noticed that the tone of the conversation among the pa.s.sengers was different from what I had been accustomed to hear in France and Belgium thus far. I now heard the chatter of the Dutch, but understood no more than if it had been so much French.