A rough sketch of modern Paris

by J. G. Lemaistre

LETTER XXIV.

Versailles.—St. Cloud.—Sèvre.—Petit Trianon.—Specimen of an extravagant bill.—Curious trial.—St. Germain.—Malmaison.—Waterworks of Marly.

Paris, april 13th, 1802 (24 germinal).

MY DEAR SIR,

I went yesterday, with a small party of english friends, to Versailles, and am just returned. I sit down now to give you the details of our little excursion.

We stopped at St. Cloud, which is situate about half way, to view that favourite palace of the unfortunate Lewis XVI, which will long be celebrated in history, on account of the extraordinary meeting held there by the council of five hundred, in the orangerie, or green house, which ended in the establishment of the present consular government.

St. Cloud is undergoing a thorough repair, previously to its being inhabited by Bonaparte. It is difficult, therefore, to form a proper estimate, either of what it formerly was, or of what it may become. I do not suppose it ever could have been on a very large scale. The gallery, which still remains, is a fine room, and the view is extensive from the large window, by which it is terminated. The walls are ornamented with some excellent paintings (I believe) by “le Brun.” The chapel is now in a state of disorder, and I did not examine the pictures which it contains. The garden has been neglected, and can never have been either very extensive, or very beautiful. Formal walks, and regular rows of trees, constitute all its merit. As to the famous jets d’eau, or cascades, they are still in high preservation; and the Parisians, on a particular day in every year, come here, in splendid procession, to enjoy this favourite sight. I only saw unmoved stone dragons, Neptunes, frogs, swans, and griffons, from whose mouths these artificial waterfalls are vomited. In this state, at least, a jet d’eau forms but a disagreeable ornament in a garden, which ought to unite every beauty of nature, and to disdain every other.

The next object to St. Cloud, which attracted our attention, was the famous manufactory of Sèvre. The beautiful porcelain, which bears the name of this town, continues to be made here, under the immediate protection of the government. We visited the shop, or magazin, and were shown the several rooms of which it consists. In all of these were tables, covered with specimens of china made here, but I cannot say that they answered my expectation. They were neither as various, nor as splendid, as one should suppose they would be, at the principal dépôt of so renowned a manufactory. Probably, the situation in which France has been during the revolution, did not afford a sufficient number of purchasers, to induce the managers to keep by them any considerable quantity of expensive articles. There were several busts of Bonaparte in different sizes, all of which were strikingly resembling. There were also great and small busts of Voltaire, Franklin, and Rousseau.

Going thence to Versailles, we drove to Rambrand’s, which is esteemed the principal hotel; but finding, on our arrival, that the best rooms were engaged, we changed our plan, and proceeded to le Petit Trianon in the park, which, formerly the much loved retreat of Marie Antoinette, has, in the strange metamorphosis things as well as men have experienced in France, become a common inn.

Having ordered dinner to be prepared in a small room, once celebrated as the luxurious boudoir of the ill fated queen, we proceeded to view the curiosities of Versailles. The park has lost some trees, and has been neglected. In other respects, it is not much altered. The orangerie[63] still retains, unimpaired, all its beauty. We walked through long avenues of orange trees, all of which are in high health and rich foliage. The gardener assured us, that some of those which were of very large dimensions, had been planted in the reign of Francis I.

We next visited the private library of the former kings of France, situate in a separate house in the town. There is nothing very particular in the building; but there were, above the several doors of the library, extremely pretty paintings of the different capitals of Europe. We were here shown a very beautiful collection of illuminated paintings, representing the splendid fête and tournaments given by the magnificent Lewis XIV.

Thence our guide wished to take us to the national manufactory of fire arms, which is carried on with great activity in this town; but having seen many acknowledgedly superior works of the same kind in England, we declined visiting it, and proceeded at once to the palace. This superb building has not suffered at all during the revolution; though, from being neglected and uninhabited, it has contracted a kind of gloom, which forcibly recals the misfortunes of its last possessors, and the uncertainty of human grandeur. The magnificent furniture, which the apartments once contained, has been removed; but the walls are not without ornament, for the palace having been made (probably with the view of preserving it from popular violence) a musée central, or dépôt of the works of art, now possesses several valuable pictures, and a few excellent statues. Among the former, I remarked some good Claude Loraines, and two beautiful portraits by Vincent. The subject of one was Henry IV of France; and the other, that of the celebrated president, Molé. The latter is painted in his parliamentary robes, heroically exposing his breast to the violence of the mob, and doing his duty, unmoved by the poniards raised against him. You seem to hear him exclaim, as history records he did, “La distance est grande de la main d’un assassin au cœur d’un honnête homme[64].”

We walked through the vast suite of rooms, which, once the seat of gayety, splendour, luxury, and royal magnificence, are now the abode of solitude, and the monument of fallen grandeur.

It is unnecessary to state the many reflections which this spot created. We failed not to visit the apartment which the unfortunate Lewis XVI occupied on the 6th of october, and in which Marie Antoinette took refuge. We were also shown the balcony window (now stopped up), where that virtuous and ill fated princess, madame Elizabeth, with a magnanimity truly heroic, presented herself, when the queen was called for, and being taken for her, voluntarily subjected herself to all the brutal violence of an irritated mob.

We likewise saw the opera house, built for the wedding of Lewis XVI, when dauphin, and which, during the last reign, was sometimes used as a theatre, and sometimes as a ball room. The apartment is still perfect, but the scenes and decorations have been removed.

On leaving the palace, we visited several jets d’eau; but were prevented from viewing the garden as particularly as we could have wished, a violent shower of rain having overtaken us.

The waterworks and pleasure grounds appear to have been much neglected.

We dined at the Little Trianon, and slept there. The room, which fell to my share, was that which the unhappy Lewis formerly occupied, and the key of the door had attached to it a label, on which could still be discovered, though half effaced, the words, “appartement du roi[65].”

In calling for our bill this morning, we found that this little inn (ci-devant a royal residence) had two proprietors, one of whom lets the apartments, and the other supplies the table in the character of “traiteur.” With the charges of the latter we had no fault to find; but the demand of the former was so ridiculously exorbitant, that have kept the bill as a curiosity, of which I add the copy.

Petit Trianon logement[66].

	Francs.
Trois appartemens de maître	36
Bougie	6
Bois	9
Quatre lits de domestique	12
Total	63

By way of reconciling us to this extravagant charge, the mistress of the house sent her daughter to us, a very pretty girl, with the bill. Our gallantry, however, did not subdue our reason, and we determined to resist the demand. Our hostess having indignantly refused the half, which we offered as amply sufficient, Mr. ⸺ and I proceeded to Versailles, in pursuit of a juge de paix. After being sent to two or three justices, who told us, that it was not within their jurisdiction, we at last, in a miserable lodging, and at an obscure house, found the magistrate of the division. His dress and his appearance were not superiour to his residence, and from these united circumstances, we were far from expecting that justice which, in the result, we experienced.

Having heard our case, he granted a citation, requiring the attendance of the landlord; and, of course, suspended his decision till the arrival of the other party. While our servant, who carried the summons, went to execute it, we were present at a curious trial, the subject of which was a small quantity, I believe a quart, of vinegar. The defendant was a coarse masculine woman, at least sixty years of age, who, when she had exhausted all her fund of eloquence, burst into tears, and talked of the weak unprotected stare of an unhappy widow. The plaintiff was a dirty ill looking fellow, with a witness of no better appearance. They all talked together; and the justice, instead of being able to moderate their violence, found it difficult to gain a hearing himself. After a wrangle of an hour, and after swearing and counterswearing to the same fact, they went away, without the business being finally settled.

What entertained me much, was, that these disputants, in the middle of their harangues, turned round to my friend and me, and seemed anxious, each in his turn, to convince us, by their eloquence, of the justice of their respective cases; though we were not only strangers to the business, but also to the laws on which this important question was to be decided.

When our good landlady arrived, her bill was produced; and the justice having declared how exorbitant he thought it, she justified herself on three grounds.

1st. That we had not made a previous agreement; and ergo, that she had a right to demand whatever she pleased.

2dly. That she paid a great rent “à la nation[67];” and that, therefore, “la nation” ought to permit her to make her guests pay a great rent for their lodgings.

3dly. That “l’ambassadeur de l’empereur Russe[68],” having lodged at her house only a week before, and not having objected to a charge of two louis per bed, “les milords anglois” ought to think her present demand extremely reasonable.

Notwithstanding this very able defence, the justice told her, that the law would not allow her d’écorcher les étrangers[69]; and very equitably decreed, that we should pay 36 instead of 63 francs. Madame received, very indignantly, the sum allotted her, and went away in a rage, declaring that, in future, no person should sleep at le petit Trianon, who would not bind himself before hand to pay the price which “son excellence l’ambassadeur de toutes les Russies” thought so reasonable.

So concluded our trial, which I have detailed as characteristic of what is to be expected at inns in France, if prior arrangements be not made by travellers; and likewise as an honourable proof, that justice, though not clad in ermine, is fairly administered. In going away, I was not a little surprised to find, that there were no costs to pay, and that even the summons had been issued gratuitously.

In England, where we possess so admirable a system of laws, how much are its advantages diminished, by the expenses attendant on every process! for, as a distinguished public man once well observed, though the temple of justice be open to all, it is like the London tavern, only the favourites of fortune dare approach its threshold.

In returning to our inn, we passed by the royal stables, which are still kept up, and filled with horses. These are now appropriated to the use of the officers of the army, who come here to be instructed in the menage, and who employ, for this purpose, the quondam riding school of the king. The horses appeared, at least to an english eye, very indifferent. We also saw here some arabians, lately arrived from Egypt. They are extremely plain, lanky, and awkward; but the groom assured us, on being asked if they were swift, “Oui, monsieur, comme les oiseaux.” (“Yes, sir, as swift as birds.”) It was in vain to object to outward form, when we learnt that these animals had the talent of flying. If, according to the old jockey phrase, “no good horse can have a bad colour,” certainly no horse who flies can be ugly.

Before we left Versailles, we visited the garden of le petit Trianon, which is rented by our honest landlady, and which may be seen, by paying a small sum for a ticket at the gate. It is kept in tolerable order, and has still strong marks of that good taste, with which it was originally made. It is really, and not nominally, an english garden; and would, even in our happy island, be deemed as prettily laid out, as the smallness of its extent would permit.

The little theatre, built by the queen, situate within the precincts of these grounds, is still in existence, and has suffered no loss, excepting that of the beautiful glasses with which the boxes were once splendidly illuminated. The last object, to which we were led at Versailles, was “le grand Trianon,” that favourite spot of Lewis XVI. This elegant building is also unhurt; and the fine marble pillars, which form the entrance, excited all our admiration. The poverty, into which the inhabitants of the town have fallen, in consequence of the revolution, is strikingly apparent. In every corner, we were surrounded by half-starved and half-naked beggars, whose importunities were not a little troublesome.

In returning to Paris, we took the road of St. Germain. The old castle still remains; but its outward appearance was so gloomy, that we felt no inclination to visit the interiour. If the french monarch intended to pay a compliment to the pretender, in giving him a palace as nearly as possible resembling St. James’s, his choice was admirable. The view from the terrace is pretty, but by no means either as extensive, nor as rich, as I expected from its celebrity.

In continuing our road, we saw the celebrated waterworks of Marly, which are preserved in all their perfection. We likewise passed by the famous aqueduct, and by Malmaison, the private seat of the first consul. The latter has nothing very particular to distinguish it. It is simply a moderately sized house, situate near the river, but so low, that it cannot command a very extensive prospect. I hear, the grounds are well laid out, and that the furniture of the house unites every thing which taste could order, or luxury afford. We reached Paris about six o’clock; and my first employment, after dinner, has been to write you this account, as I know that Versailles, and its neighbourhood, are among the number of objects, about which english curiosity is excited.

I am, &c.