The Carrefour du Châtelet was at this period, with the Pont Neuf, the principal resort of the people of Paris, then, as now, ever addicted to the promenade and out-of-door lounging. A singularly varied panorama did the open place present to any one standing at the cross which was reared in the centre, and gazing around him. He might have seen a duel taking place between two young gallants on the footpath, in open contest. Swords were then as quickly drawn forth as tempers; no appointments were made for the seclusion of the faubourgs beyond the walls which occupied the site of the present boulevards; and these quarrels often ended fatally, though merely fought for the possession of some courtesan who, in common with others, blazed forth in her sumptuous trappings on the bridges during the afternoon. But the guards never interfered, and the passengers looked on unconcernedly until the struggle was, one way or the other, decided.
The beggars were as numerous then as now, perhaps more so; for the various Cours des Miracles, the ‘Rookeries’ of Paris, if we may be allowed the expression, which abounded all over the city, offered them a ready colony and retreat. Here were counterfeiters of every disease to which humanity is liable, dragging themselves along the rude footpath; there, beggars of more active habits, who swarmed, cap in hand, by the side of the splendid carriages which passed along the quays, to and from the Louvre. The thieves, too, everywhere plied their vocation; and the absurd custom of carrying the purse suspended at the girdle, favoured their delinquencies; whence certain of them acquired the title of coupe-bourse, as in England the pick-pockets were formerly termed cut-purses.
Crowds of soldiers, vendors of street merchandise, and charlatans of every description filled the carrefour. Looking to the tableau offered by the public resorts of Paris at the present time, the Champs Elysées for instance (in 1665, consisting only of fields, literally in cultivation), it is curious to observe how little the principal features of the assembly have altered from the accounts left us by accurate and careful delineators of former manners.
But, besides all these, the mere idlers, of both sexes, were numerous and remarkable; an ever-changing throng of gay habits, glittering accoutrements, and attractive figures and faces. The license of the age, unbounded in its extent, permitted appointments of every kind to be made without notice. Every kind of dissipation was openly practised, and therefore the world winked at it, as under such circumstances it always does, even if the place of an illicit assignation or conference (and in the reign of Louis XIV. they were seldom otherwise) were a church, as indeed was most frequently the case. The generally licentious taste extended to the dress and conversation; hence, from the crowds of gallants who thronged the carrefour, salutations and remarks of strange freedom were constantly addressed to the handsome women who, in the prodigality of their display of dazzling busts and shoulders, invited satire or compliments; nay, to such a pitch was that negligee attire carried, that some might be seen walking abroad in loose damask robes merely confined at the waist by a cord of twisted silk.
The platform round which the laughing crowd had assembled was formed on a light cart that had its wheels covered with some coarse drapery. There were two occupants of this stage. One of them was a man who might have numbered some forty years; but his thin furrowed cheeks and sunken eye would have added another score to his age, in the opinion of a casual observer. He was dressed entirely in faded black serge, made after the fashion of the time, with full arms, and trunks fastened just above the knee. Some bands of vandyked lace were fastened round his wrists; and he wore a collar of the same material, whilst his doublet was looped together but a little way down his waist. A skull-cap of black velvet completed his attire.
Yet few who looked at him took much notice of his dress: the features of this man absorbed all attention. His face exactly resembled that of a condor, his cap adding to the likeness by being worn somewhat forward; from beneath which his long black hair fell perfectly straight down the back of his neck. His brows were scowling: his eyes deep-set and jet-black: but they were bloodshot, and surrounded by the crimson ridges of the lids. His cheeks were pallid as those of a corpse; and his general figure, naturally tall, was increased in appearance of height by his attenuated limbs. He took little notice of the crowd, but remained sitting at a small table on the carriage, upon which there was a small show of chemical glasses and preparations: leaving nearly all the business of his commerce to his assistant.
This was a merry fellow, plump, and well-favoured, in the prime of life. He was habited in a party-fashioned costume of black and white, his opposite arms and legs being of different colours; and his doublet quartered in the same style. Round his waist he carried a pointed girdle, to which small hawk-bells were attached; and he wore the red hood of the moyen âge period, fitting closely to his neck and head, and hanging down at the top, to the extremity of which a larger bell was fastened His face had such a comic expression, that he only had to wink at the crowd to command their laughter. And when to this he added his jests, he threw them into paroxysms of merriment.
‘Ohé! ohé! my masters!’ he cried, ‘the first physician of the universe, and many other places, has come again to confer his blessings on you. He has philtres for those who have not had enough of love, and potions for those who have had too much. He can attach to you a new mistress when she gets coy, or get rid of an old one when she gets troublesome. And if you have two at once, here is an elixir that will kill their jealousies.’
‘Send some to Louis!’ cried one of the bystanders.
A roar of laughter followed the speech, and the crowd looked round to see the speaker. But, although bold enough to utter the recommendation, he had not the courage to support it. However, the cue had been given to the crowd, and the applause and laugh of approbation continued.