“Le théâtre de Louvois,” is larger than “Vaudeville;” but smaller than “Feydeau.” Here plays are acted mostly of two or three acts; but they sometimes perform longer pieces. I saw at this house, a few nights since, a comedy taken from Fielding’s Tom Jones. It was a sentimental drama, and neither ill written, nor ill acted; but the ridiculous use of the following expression, “Tom, mon cher Tom[46],” in the midst of a very pathetic scene, had such an effect on my muscles, that I could not recover my gravity for the rest of the evening. Apropos; the french have a most extraordinary aptitude to make mistakes in translating, and adopting our english appellations. In a serious drama, or in a novel taken from our language, the vulgarism of addressing a young lady, by the name of, “miss,” is retained in french; and the absurd manner in which the word is pronounced, united to the coarse familiarity of the expression, often destroys the effect of the best imagined passages. In the same manner, “Mrs.” instead of being translated “madame,” is written “mistriss;” and if “a lord William,” or a “lord Charles” is mentioned, he is sure to be called in the next page, “le chevalier baronet,” &c. A respectable old steward receives the childish name of “Dick,” a heroine is “miss Peggy,” and a renowned warrior, “sir Jack,” or “admiral Billy.” I resume my subject. The actors of “Louvois,” are tolerably good; the house is about the size of our little theatre in the Hay market, and the pieces represented here are often entertaining.
“Le théâtre de la rue Favart,” to which “l’opera Buffa,” or the Italian opera has lately removed from “la salle olympique,” is a handsome building, the boxes of which are so far more lively than those of the other theatres, that they are open. In most of the play-houses at Paris, the boxes are separated by a partition on each side, like the division of the private ones in London. This is not done at “Favart,” and the effect is favourable to the appearance of the theatre; the company not being concealed from view, as at the other “spectacles.” Madame Bolla has lately made her appearance on this stage, and has excited a considerable degree of public curiosity. She is generally much admired; and when her name is announced, the house is sure to be full. The music is excellent, the orchestra is well chosen, and some of the actors are uncommonly good. The “opera Buffa” is particularly patronized by madame Bonaparte, who has a box here, and seldom fails to attend, when any favourite piece is performed. The first consul is likewise said to be partial to this house.
Besides the six principal theatres, which I have already enumerated, and which are not only the most frequented, but also the most central, being all situate in, or near “la rue de la Loi;” there are several others scattered about the town, which are full every night. The buildings of many of them are pretty, and the acting far from indifferent.
The “théâtre de Montansier,” in the Palais royal, is devoted to little farces, and to that sort of comedy, which rather forces an involuntary laugh, than claims a smile of serious approbation. The blunders of a clownish servant, the tricks of Scapin, or the caricature of some reigning fashion, and now and then a sentimental piece of one act, (for “sentiment” is the order of the day, at Paris) constitute the kind of amusement, usually offered at this house. At this theatre are lobbies, or foyers as they are called, in which the ladies of the “Palais royal” roam at large, as at Covent-garden and Drury-lane. On this account, “Montansier” is not much frequented by women of character; though now and then it is the fashion, even for the first females of the place to make parties, and go there.
“Le théâtre de Molière,” as it was called, till last week, when it assumed, I know not why, the name of “théâtre National et Étranger,” is situate in “la rue St. Denys.” It is a very elegant little theatre, and the backs of the boxes are covered with glass, by which means the audience are reflected, and doubled on every side. I saw here, a few evenings since, “le Lovelace Anglois, ou la Jeunesse de Richelieu,” an excellent comedy, which, to my great surprise, was very well performed by the actors of this house.
“L’Ambigu-comique,” at the most distant part of the Boulevard, not far from the ci-devant Bastille, is much frequented, on account of its splendid processions. A piece called, “le Jugement de Solomon,” has been so extremely popular, as to render it very difficult to get a seat, when it was performed. After several fruitless attempts, I succeeded last night in gaining admittance; and I must confess, that I was much disappointed. The theatre is little and dirty; and the stage is too confined for the shows presented on it, to produce any effect. “Le Jugement de Solomon,” notwithstanding its great celebrity, seemed to me a very tiresome, dull, uninteresting piece of tawdry parade.
“Le théâtre des jeunes Artistes,” is also on the Boulevard, very near “l’Ambigu-comique.” “La salle,” or the hall, appropriated to the purpose, though small, is neat and prettily decorated. Here I saw a pantomime in five acts; the hero of which was the renowned “Puss in Boots,” or “le Chat botté,” as he is called by the french. Need I add, that I was completely ennuyé. The actors are really young beginners, or “jeunes artistes;” and I fear, from the promising appearance of three or four of the female performers, (none of whose ages exceeded sixteen) that this theatre is a nursery for other places, besides the play-houses.
“Le théâtre du Marais,” I have not yet visited; but I am told, that the building is elegant. A detachment from the company, which I have already mentioned as acting at “le théâtre de Molière,” performs at this house.
There are likewise, “le théâtre de la Gaieté, rue Thionville,” “le théâtre des jeunes Élèves,” et “le théâtre sans Pretension,” on the Boulevard. I have not seen them; but I hear they are exactly on the same plan, and in the same state as “le théâtre de l’Ambigu-comique.”
Besides these numerous play-houses, there are several exhibitions of horsemanship, on the plan of Astley; and there is likewise a very curious optical deception, called, “la Phantasmagorie de Robertson.” The latter is very well worth seeing. After viewing in the outward room various electrical machines, mechanical inventions, and other curiosities, you are led into a dark apartment, in which the ghosts of distinguished characters are supposed to appear. This is extremely well managed; and the principle of optical deceptions is exemplified, and clearly explained. A man of the name of Fitzjames also appears as a ventriloquist; and after he has thrown his voice into different parts of the room, he declares, that the power of doing so is not a natural gift, but simply a habit acquired, of varying the sound of the voice. The same man gives a most admirable imitation of the meeting of a jacobinical club; and in hearing him, you really imagine, that the demagogues of those bloody days are still haranguing with all the absurdity and madness, which characterised them. In addition to the amusements which I have specified, there are innumerable puppet-shows, théâtres de société, mountebanks, tumblers, fights of wild beasts, jugglers, rope-dancers, and quack-doctors.