Part 30 (1/2)
In the middle, and above the arch, is a superstructure of timber-work faced with gilt lead, where are the bells of the clock and those of chimes, which ought to play every half-hour.
This tasteless edifice interrupts the view in every direction and as it is far from being an ornament to the _Pont Neuf_, no one could now regret its entire removal. Under the old _regime_, however, it was nothing less than a government.
Among the functions of the governor, were included the care of the clock, which scarcely ever told the hour, and that of the chimes, which were generally out of order. When these chimes used to delight Henry IV, it is to be presumed that they were kept in better tune. It was customary to make them play during all public ceremonies, and especially when the king pa.s.sed.
”The _Pont Neuf_, is in the city of Paris what the heart is in the human body, the centre of motion and circulation: the flux and reflux of inhabitants and strangers crowd this pa.s.sage in such a manner, that, in order to meet persons one is looking for, it is sufficient to walk here for an hour every day. Here, the _mouchards_, or spies of the police, take their station; and, when at the expiration of a few days, they see not their man, they positively affirm that he is not in Paris.”
Such was the animated picture of the _Pont Neuf_, as drawn by Mercier in 1788, and such it really was before the revolution. At present, though this bridge is sometimes thronged with pa.s.sengers, it presents not, according to my observation, that almost continual crowd and bustle for which it was formerly distinguished. No stoppage now from the press of carriages of any description, no difficulty in advancing quickly through the concourse of pedestrians. Fruit-women, hucksters, hawkers, pedlars, indeed, together with ambulating venders of lottery-tickets, and of _tisane_, crying ”_a la fraiche! Qui veut boire?_” here take their stand as they used, though not in such numbers.
But the most sensible diminution is among the shoe-blacks, who stand in the carriage-way, and, with all their implements before them, range themselves along the edge of the very elevated _trottoir_ or foot-pavement. The _decrotteurs_ of the _Pont Neuf_ were once reputed masters of the art: their foresight was equal to their dexterity and expedition. For the very moderate sum of two _liards_, they enabled an abbe or a poet to present himself in the gilded apartments of a dutchess. If it rained, or the rays of the sun were uncommonly ardent, they put into his hand an umbrella to protect the economy of his head-dress during the operation. Their great patrons have disappeared, and, in lieu of a constant succession of customers, the few _decrotteurs_ who remain at their old-established station, are idle half the day for want of employment.
These Savoyards generally practise more than one trade, as is indicated by the _enseigne_ which is affixed, on a short pole, above their tool-box.
LA FRANCE tond les chiens coupe les chats proprement et sa femme vat en ville et en campagne
Change the name only, and such is, line for line, letter for letter, the most ordinary style of their _annonce_. It is, however, to be presumed, that the republican belles have adopted other favourites instead of dogs and cats; for no longer is seen, as in the days of royalty, the aspiring or favoured lover carrying his mistress's lap-dog in the public promenades. In fact, the business of dog-shearing, &c. seems full as dead in this part of Paris as that of shoe-cleaning. The _artists_ of the _Pont Neuf_ are, consequently, chop-fallen; and hilarity which formerly shone on their countenance, is now succeeded by gloomy sadness.
At the foot of the _Pont Neuf_ on the _Quai de la Feraille_ recruiting-officers used to unfurl their inviting banners, and neglect nothing that art and cunning could devise to insnare the ignorant, the idle, and the unwary. The means which they sometimes employed were no less whimsical than various: the lover of wine was invited to a public-house, where he might intoxicate himself; the glutton was tempted by the sight of ready-dressed turkies, fowls, sausages &c. suspended to a long pole; and the youth, inclined to libertinism, was seduced by the meretricious allurements of a well-tutored doxy. To second these manoeuvres, the recruiter followed the object of his prey with a bag of money, which he c.h.i.n.ked occasionally, crying out ”_Qui en veut?_” and, in this manner, an army of heroes was completed. It is almost superfluous to add, that the necessity of such stratagems is obviated, by the present mode of raising soldiers by conscription.
Before we quit the _Pont Neuf_, I must relate to you an adventure which, in the year 1786, happened to our friend P-----, who is now abroad, in a situation of considerable trust and emolument. He was, at that time, a half-pay subaltern in the British army, and visited Paris, as well from motives of economy as from a desire of acquiring the French language. Being a tall, fresh-coloured young man, as he was one day crossing the _Pont Neuf_, he caught the eye of a recruiting-officer, who followed him from the _Quai de la Feraille_ to a coffee-house, in the _Rue St. Honore_, which our Englishman frequented for the sake of reading the London newspapers. The recruiter, with all the art of a crimp combined with all the politeness of a courtier, made up to him under pretence of having relations in England, and endeavoured, by every means in his power, to insinuate himself into the good graces of his new acquaintance.
P----, by way of sport, encouraged the eagerness of the recruiter, who lavished on him every sort of civility; peaches in brandy, together with the choicest refreshments that a Parisian coffee-house could afford, were offered to him and accepted: but not the smallest hint was dropped of the motive of all this more than friendly attention. At length, the recruiter, thinking that he might venture to break the ice, depicted, in the most glowing colours, the pleasures and advantages of a military life, and declared ingenuously that nothing would make him so happy as to have our countryman P---- for his comrade. Without absolutely accepting or rejecting his offer, P---- begged a little delay in order to consider of the matter, at the same time hinting that there was; at that moment, a small obstacle to his inclination. The recruiter, like a pioneer, promised to remove it, grasped his hand with joy and exultation, and departed, singing a song of the same import as that of Serjeant Kite:
”Come brave boys, 'tis one to ten, But we return all gentlemen.”
In a few days, the recruiter again met Mr. P---- at his accustomed rendezvous; when, after treating him with coffee, liqueur, &c. he came directly to the point, but neglected not to introduce into his discourse every persuasive allurement. P----, finding himself pushed home, reminded the recruiter of the obstacle to which he had before alluded, and, to convince him of its existence, put into his hand His Britannic Majesty's commission. The astonishment and confusion of the French recruiter were so great that he was unable to make any reply; but instantly retired, venting a tremendous e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.
[Footnote 1: By the Plan of Paris, it will be seen that the _Pont Neuf_ lies at the west point of the Island called _L'Ile du Palais_, and is, as it were, in the very centre of the capital.]
LETTER x.x.xII.
_Paris, December 13, 1801._
In this gay capital, b.a.l.l.s succeed to b.a.l.l.s in an almost incredible variety. There are actually an immense number every evening; so that persons fond of the amus.e.m.e.nt of dancing have full scope for the exercise of their talents in Paris. It is no longer a matter of surprise to me that the French women dance so well, since I find that they take frequent lessons from their master, and, almost every night, they are at a dance of one kind or another. Added to this, the same set of dances lasts the whole season, and go where you will, you have a repet.i.tion of the same. However, this detracts not in the smallest degree; from the merit of those Parisian belles who s.h.i.+ne as first-rate dancers. The mechanical part of the business, as Mr.
C----g would call it, they may thus, acquire by constant practice; but the decorative part, if I may so term the fascinating grace which, they display in all their movements, is that the result of study, or do they hold it from the bounteous hand of Nature?
While I am speaking of b.a.l.l.s, I must inform you that, since the private ball of which I gave you so circ.u.mstantial an account, I have been at several others, also private, but of a different complexion; inasmuch as pleasure, not profit, was the motive for which they were given, and the company was more select; but, in point of general arrangement, I found them so like the former, that I did not think it worth while to make any one of them the subject of a distinct letter.
In this line Madame Recamier takes the lead, but though her b.a.l.l.s are more splendid, those of Madame Soubiran are more agreeable. On the 21st of Frimaire, which was yesterday, I was at a public ball of the most brilliant kind now known in Paris. It was the first of the subscription given this season, and, from the name of the apartment where it is held, it is styled the
BAL DU SALON DES eTRANGERS.
Midnight is the general hour for the commencement of such diversions; but, owing to the long train of carriages setting down company at this ball, it was near two o'clock before I could arrive at the scene of action, in the _Rue Grange Bateliere_, near the Boulevards.
After I alighted and presented my ticket, some time elapsed before I could squeeze into the room where the dancing was going forward. The spectators were here so intermixed with the dancers, that they formed around them a border as complete as a frame to a picture. It is astonis.h.i.+ng that, under such circ.u.mstances, a Parisian Terpsich.o.r.e, far from being embarra.s.sed, lays fresh claim to your applause. With mathematical precision, she measures with her eye the s.p.a.ce to which she is restricted by the curiosity of the by-standers. Rapid as lightning, she springs forward till the measure recalling her to the place she left, she traces her orbit, like a planet, at the same time revolving on her axis. Sometimes her ”light, fantastic toe” will approach within half an inch of your foot; nay, you shall almost feel her breath on your cheek, and still she will not touch you, except, perhaps, with the skirt of her floating tunic.
Among the female part of the company, I observed several lovely women; some, who might have been taken for Asiatic sultanas, irradiating the s.p.a.ce around them by the dazzling brilliancy of their ornaments; others, without jewels, but calling in every other aid of dress for the embellishment of their person; and a few, rich in their native charms alone, verifying the expression of the poet. Truth compels me to acknowledge that six or eight English ladies here were totally eclipsed. For the honour of my country, I could have wished for a better specimen of our excellence in female beauty. No women in the world, or at least none that ever I have met with in the different quarters I have visited, are handsomer than the English, in point of complexion and features. This is a fact which Frenchmen themselves admit; but for grace, say they, our countrywomen stand unrivalled, I am rather inclined to subscribe to this opinion. In a well-educated French woman, there is an ease, an affability, a desire to please and be pleased, which not only render her manners peculiarly engaging, but also influence her gait, her gestures, her whole deportment in short, and captivate admiration. Her natural cheerfulness and vivacity spread over her features an animation seldom to be found in our English fair, whose general characteristics are reserve and coldness. Hence that striking expression which exhibits the grace of the French belles to superior advantage.
Although my memory frequently disappoints me when I wish to retain names, I have contrived to recollect those of three of the most remarkable women in the ball-room. I shall therefore commit them to paper before I forget them. Madame la Princesse de Santa-Croce displayed more diamonds than any of her compet.i.tors; Mademoiselle Lescot was the best dancer among several ladies renowned for dancing; and Madame Tallien was, on the whole, the handsomest female that I saw in the room. There might possibly be women more beautiful than she at this ball, but they did not come under my observation.