LETTER XXV.
Long Champ, account of that annual promenade, date of its origin, and of the great preparations made this year for attending it.—The bustle, and gayety which it produced at Paris.
Paris, april the 16th, 1802, (27 germinal).
MY DEAR SIR,
All Paris has been alive for the last three days. Can you guess the reason? Perhaps you will imagine, that the inhabitants, roused from the state of lethargy, into which they have for some time back been plunged, are beginning to give sincere but tardy marks of joy, at the reestablishment of internal order, and external peace. Not at all, my good friend. A subject, much more interesting to the parisians, is the cause of the show and gayety so generally exhibited. Know, then, that “Long Champ” has begun! I must now, like other learned commentators, explain my explanation.
“Long Champ” is the name of a village, situate on the other side of the “Bois de Boulogne,” of which latter place I spoke to you in a former letter. In this village stood an abbey, or church; and one of the holy fathers, some hundred years ago, had a voice of such extraordinary sweetness, that, when high mass was performed, crowds of Parisians flocked to hear him. His popularity was not confined to the lower class, and the noblesse shared the curiosity of the public. The fashion of going to Long Champ so rapidly increased, that, in a short time, it was no uncommon thing to see whole strings of splendid carriages at the door of the convent. The road to this village became the favourite ride, and vanity soon discovered, that it afforded an excellent opportunity of displaying all the varieties of dress, and all the pomp of equipage. In the course of a few years, it became an established custom, at this particular period of the year, to make, during three days, not an humble pilgrimage, but a splendid procession, to Long Champ. The mass and the singer were soon forgotten; but the promenade continued, and increased every year in the magnificence of parade. To appear, on this occasion, with becoming grandeur, the haughty, but often distressed noble, would, for months beforehand, deprive himself of his ordinary comforts. To rival “les dames de bonne compagnie[70]” in richness of dress, in show of equipage, and blaze of diamonds, was the grand object of the admired belles of the opera house; and the means of doing so, was the exacted price of those smiles, which the well beneficed prelate, or the wealthy financier, were sometimes permitted to enjoy. The Bourgeois and their wives appeared in their humble cabriolets, but the former wore their Sunday apparel; and the latter were loaded with all the tinsel finery, which, during the course of the year, they had been able to collect. The common people, or la canaille (as they were then indignantly called), were equally fond of this procession; and, at the risk of being run over, crowded and completed the show, some dressed in tattered regimentals, some in faded silk coats, and ragged embroidered waistcoats, and others with bag-wig’s and wooden shoes.
Such was the custom during “l’ancien régime.” The amusements of the french vanished with their old political institutions, and “horrendum dictu,” Long Champ was long unobserved.
Robespierre, and after him the directors, forbade every thing which bore the least resemblance to the customs of former times; but when Bonaparte came into power, the system was instantly changed, and the people, left to follow their own inclinations, greedily returned to all their former diversions. “Long Champ” was of the number; and, since the 18th of brumaire, it has been gradually recovering its ancient magnificence. This year, from the reestablishment of peace, and the confluence of foreigners, it was expected to be finer than ever; and vast preparations have, during some weeks past, been making. Milliners tortured their fancy to invent new fashions; mantuamakers passed whole nights without sleep, in executing the orders which they had received; coachmakers exerted themselves with all the art of their trade, and all the vanity of their country, in endeavouring to imitate the carriages of the english; horses were sent for from every part of the world; regiments of tailors were employed in making coats for the beaux, habits for the ladies, and laced jackets for their grooms; strings of boots were seen dangling on the backs of porters in every quarter of the town; saddles were as much in requisition, as if a great military project, by the means of cavalry, had been in agitation; and I have been confidently assured, that no less than three thousand pair of leather breeches were ordered on the occasion.
In consequence of these active preparations, and of “Long Champ” having been, for some weeks back, infinitely more the subject of conversation than either the peace, or the reestablishment of religion, I expected, at least, a very brilliant sight. I must say, I was disappointed. The only thing which pleased me very much, was the bustle which it produced in the town, and the gayety with which it animated the faces of the Parisians. For three days, every vehicle in the shape of a carriage, and every animal which claimed the name of horse, has been dragged into use, and become part of the procession. About two o’clock, a military guard was posted at the beginning of the Champs Elisées, to preserve order, (for nothing here is done without soldiers); and from that hour, till some time after sunset, the crowd gradually increased. At three, the line of carriages reached from “la place de la Concorde” to the “Bois de Boulogne;” and, of course, there were frequent stoppages, even at the beginning of the promenade. The road not employed in this manner, was filled with equestrians of all ranks, and the walk on both sides was equally thronged with passengers on foot. There were some few elegant english equipages, well appointed, and others spoiled, by the shabby appearance of the servants, or the extreme badness of the horses. The french coachmakers, in one or two instances, successfully imitated the fashions of London; but, generally speaking, the attempt only served to prove the vast distance which exists, between the two countries, in the art of constructing carriages.
Mixed with “les voitures à l’anglaise, ou véritablement anglaises[71]” were seen old fashioned berlins, family coaches, and superannuated cabriolets of all descriptions. Phaetons, gigs, curricles, and whiskies, completed the procession. Among the horsemen were seen a few returned emigrants, who had so well copied the dress of our young men of ton, that they might have been mistaken for the beaux of Bond street; but the greater number (malgré their leather breeches and boots, their blue frocks and high crowned hats) betrayed the forgery, by the preposterous addition of ear-rings, coloured capes, or pointed toes. The ladies appeared in every variety of clothing. Some, who ventured to be their own charioteers, assumed the neat and appropriate dress of an “amazone,” or habit. Others, decorating, and concealing as little as possible, the charms of their person, shone in all the brilliance of their evening apparel. Worked gowns, laced caps, and showy turbans, were sometimes exhibited from the windows of hackney coaches; and a dirty buggy had, not unfrequently, the honour of conveying three or four damsels, whose costume would not have been unsuited to the first heroine of the stage. It is impossible to describe, or convey, the faintest idea of the grotesque figures which appeared on this occasion; and, notwithstanding the trouble and expense to which so many individuals had exposed themselves, by the purchase of new carriages, new liveries, new horses, new dresses, and last, not least, new leather breeches, the whole appeared to me but a shabby exhibition, dull amusement.
Moving, in slow procession, to the other side of the Bois de Boulogne, during five or six hours, constituted the whole pleasure of this vaunted fête. There were certainly some elegant carriages, and some handsome horses; but the number was too inconsiderable to make amends for the crowd of those of a contrary description. Nothing could be more tiresome than sitting in one of these vehicles, as they were compelled, every instant, to stop, on account of the lengthened line, which increased every moment. Persons on horseback were equally ill off, as it required the utmost care to avoid being driven against the wheels of the carriages; and as for the pedestrians, they were almost buried in a volley of dust.
Such is the celebrated promenade of Long Champ, which, though an annual festival, appears to me a wretched and pitiful imitation of Hyde park on an ordinary sunday. Yet the french are delighted with their amusement; and in returning this evening, I heard on every side, “Quel beau spectacle! quelles jolies voitures! quels magnifiques chevaux! quelle belle parure! Vraiment c’est charmant[72]!”
It is not a little flattering to the vanity of an englishman, to see how rapidly the french are adopting our fashions; and, notwithstanding the awkward manner in which they are sometimes copied, yet such is the general bias, that I entertain no doubt that, in the space of ten years, (if the peace should last so long), it will become almost impossible to distinguish, by his dress, a native of France from one of England.
The ladies of Paris, and those of London, differ, indeed, very widely in their toilet. Perhaps they might reciprocally improve by observing each other; and while the former would do right to respect and imitate the modesty, with which the latter are usually clad, our fair countrywomen might also, without any injury to their beauty, or any violation of that delicacy, which is their brightest ornament, adopt some of that taste, elegance, and fancy, which are often seen in the dress of a well bred frenchwoman.
Adieu, my dear sir. I am heartily tired of my subject, and fear you will have been so some time. I therefore take my leave for the present.
I am, &c.