May 3rd.—In the morning when we asked for soap they said they had none in the house; we at last sent out to buy a piece, and they brought us in a bit of coarse brown soap. The soap that the French wash their things with smells of aniseed and gives their beds a disagreeable smell. The inn was by far the worst we met with; and the servants were very careless. We set out with very fine weather for the first time, and as the day advanced two or three butterflies made their appearance. Our postillion seemed very gay, as he sung most of the time; presently some of the ropes broke about the horses' heads, and while he was employed in mending, with the help of another bit of rope and an old knife, the postillion at the other carriage had also dismounted, and was amusing himself by plaiting up his horses' tails. The harness often broke and the horses kicked, but the men did not seem to mind it; if we asked what was the matter, they always answered, 'Soyez tranquille, soyez tranquille.' The French horses are little, clumsy-looking beasts. At Hebecourt we met a kind of covered cart full of children and nurses going to the Hospital des Enfans Trouvés at Paris; there was a soldier to guard it, who sat on his horse like a woman and slapped his horse's face. There seems to be a great want of living creatures in the fields; we never met any except here and there a drove of pigs with very long legs, or a walnut-coloured old woman leading (by a string) a thin, miserable-looking cow. We once met a flock of sheep which followed a man like dogs. Breteuil is a mean, dirty town; we had a very bad breakfast in the Hôtel de ——.[12] The country about Breteuil is very dreary and unpleasant. We saw several vineyards which were not near so pretty as I expected: they were little, diminutive-looking things, not so high as raspberry bushes. Near the villages we saw a number of people washing in the lavoirs or ponds made purposely. There were, as usual, plenty of beggars; some of whom came and begged for bread and wine. One of our postillions had a dog with him; he threw off his gloves, the dog always picking them up and bringing them to him. Soon after we had passed the village of Wavigny we were overtaken by a violent storm of rain, hail, thunder and lightning, and as the storm increased we were glad to take shelter in the post-house at St. Just. Here we had a good deal of conversation with a servant girl; she told us that they kept all the cattle in stables, and never out of doors. Seeing some pigs that looked finer than usual in the farmyard, she said that they had got them from a school where they brought up pigs. She had a child in her arms which she offered to us all to kiss. When we asked what it eat, she said soup and sweetmeats; she afterwards brought it in some sugar and milk. The child had on a cotton cap trimmed with black net: when she took it off to show us its hair, we told her how much better it looked without it; she said 'yes, but that in France they were afraid of their children catching cold if they went without caps': which accounts for one's never seeing the children's neck, arms, or hair. The people seemed to have been at dinner; there was a large plate of cabbage, some curd, and apples on the table. Before we went away mamma gave the girl a franc; she seemed hardly to know whether to accept it or not, turned it about, and at last put it into her pocket without saying a word. We were amused at one of our servants saying 'It's well we're off the common now it rains' (owing to the want of hedgerows and trees, the country did look more like a common than anything else). When we set out the storm had abated, but the water was running over the road in streams. A little further on the hail was collected into large heaps, some of them nearly three feet long, and above half a foot thick: these were lying on the sides of the road, and over the fields for a quarter of a mile. We picked up some small pieces: they were hail and mud stuck together; the hailstones were bigger than large peas. A few miles from St. Just we had a very fine view of Clermont; the town and castle are situated on a hill, nearly surrounded by wood. It was about here that a little dog which I fed with bread followed us for near half a mile. The country was very pretty as we approached Chantilly: the wood of Hallate borders the road on the left, in which we saw some wood pigeons; nearer the town is a meadow, and canals are on each side of the road. In entering Chantilly one of the horses got its leg over the traces, and horse and man fell down beside the carriage; they, however, got up without any accident. We drove to the Hôtel de Bourbon, an excellent inn. The mistress is a nice, civil little woman; the master, who is also cook, was twenty years in England. The rooms were very nicely furnished; in the parlour was a jug full of lilies of the valley, which gave the room a very sweet smell. While dinner was preparing we walked out towards the palace stables. We passed by several neat houses, with gardens and trellis-work covered with vines before the door. The trellis-work was arched: I should think when it is covered with bunches of grapes it must be very pretty. The stables consist of one enormous building, six hundred feet in length and forty in height; above the entrance are some very fine figures and horses. There was formerly a figure, which the Allies melted into cannon balls when they were quartered there. The palace was destroyed by a mob from Paris early in the Revolution; a smaller château connected with it was spared, which is now the habitation of the Prince of Condé. Several people asked if we wanted to see the inside of the stables, but we had not sufficient time. It was a very fine evening, the country round was very beautiful; there was a great deal of wood about it. We walked a little in the garden belonging to the inn; there were an immense number of cockchafers that flew humming over our heads. Soon after we returned there was a great deal of thunder and lightning. Before I went to bed I sat and watched it at a window; when it lightened, the whole sky seemed illuminated. It continued during part of the night, so that we were obliged to close the windows. I liked Chantilly better than any place I had seen in France.
May 4th.—Before we set off we got some rolls to take in the carriage. They were not the rolls, a yard and half a quarter long, but quite round like rings, that the bakers carry hung over their arms. We took a turn in the garden, where we met with an Irishman, who told us a great deal about the stables, etc. He said that the Prince of Condé had an extensive forest, where he was very fond of hunting; that one day he would hunt the wild-boar, another day the roe-buck, another the stag, and so on. After we had left Chantilly the country was very pretty, and the forest of Chantilly soon began to skirt the road on the left. Near Ecouen is a seminary for the education of the orphan daughters of the members of the Legion of Honour. As we approached Paris, the postillions were very smart, their queues were well powdered, and at one place their boots were so large that they stepped into them. Whenever the French postillions come near to a town or village, they begin to crack their whips very dexterously, with which they make an immense noise. The horses are tied with ropes, have sheep-skins over their backs, and are always three abreast. Near many of the villages we saw crucifixes and images. There are some little obelisks on the side of the road, where Philip the Bold and his brothers rested when they bore the corpse of their father from Paris to St. Denis. There is an avenue of trees on each side of the road which bears marks of the ravages of war. Soon after the village of La Chapelle we passed the barrier of Paris. We entered Paris along the Rue de Clichy. We stopped at Meurice's Hôtel, Rue St. Honoré. The sitting-room was carpeted and had a boarded floor; there was a pretty clock and vases of alabaster on the chimney-piece, and mirrors about the room; the furniture was a kind of figured blue cotton velvet, which they have a great deal of in France. Meurice and many of the waiters speak English; the inn is very good; the servants did not seem to hear the bells, but we thought that was probably because we were at the back of the house, rather out of the way. The back of the hotel looks towards the gardens of the Tuileries. We went to bed directly after tea.
A FRENCH POSTILLION
TUILERIES
May 5th.[13]—We took a walk in the gardens of the Tuileries. The palace was founded by Catherine de Medicis, and derives its name from having been erected on a piece of ground appropriated to the manufacture of tiles. The front consists of five pavilions, connected with four ranges of buildings. The whole façade is adorned with Ionic pillars placed on pedestals. All the pillars are formed of brown and red marble. The portico of the centre pavilion towards the court is decorated by columns, and on each side of the gate are statues of Apollo and a Faun. The portico towards the garden is similarly ornamented. On the galleries are eighteen marble statues of Roman senators clad in the toga, and in other parts of the façade are twenty-two busts of Roman emperors and generals. The extraordinary height of the roof in front towards the garden gives an air of heaviness to the façade. An iron palisade encloses the coachyard of the palace. The principal entrance to the court of the Tuileries is by a most beautiful triumphal arch. It was erected by Napoleon, and was built on the plan of that of Septimus Severus at Rome, and is said not to be inferior to the original. It is sixty feet wide and forty-five feet high. The centre arch is fourteen feet wide, the others eight and a half. Each front is decorated with four columns, supporting marble figures, representing different soldiers. On the outside are, on the right, the arms of France, supported by Peace and Plenty; and on the left the arms of Italy, sustained by Wisdom and Strength. Four other bas-reliefs are over the smaller arches. The inside of the arches is beautifully carved. Over the centre arch was formerly the statue of Napoleon. The gardens are the work of Lenostre; the principal walk extends through the whole length of the garden. The trees are all cut, which gives it a formal look. In the parterres of flowers are statues and basins of water; in one were two swans, and in the others some gold and silver fishes. From the terrace of the garden towards the Seine we had a very fine view of the river; and on the opposite terrace, of the Place Vendôme, the triumphal column, and the Boulevards beyond. Along the walks are rows of chairs, for which you pay two or three sous: there are also stone seats. In the afternoon these gardens are crowded by a gay assembly. In returning we passed through the Place Vendôme. The buildings which enclose the square on three sides are uniform. In the middle is a beautiful column 130 feet high, formed on the model of that of Trajan at Rome. It is entirely covered with brass, furnished by the artillery taken from the Austrians. The pedestal is fitted with bas-reliefs, and at each angle is an eagle grasping a crown of laurel. At the foot of the column commences another set of bas-reliefs, which trace in chronological order the principal events of the campaign of 1805: a spiral line separates each row. On the top of the column is a gallery, and above the gallery is a small dome on which is a white flag. There were a great many carriages in the square, so that we had to skip first to one side, then the other. There are no pavements for foot passengers in the streets of Paris, which makes it very disagreeable to walk; the coachmen drive close to the very doors of the houses, and if it were not for the portes cochères, one would be run over by the carriages. The streets are narrow and dirty, and the shops in general very shabby. There were a good many people about with nosegays; we bought a bunch of lilies-of-the-valley and ranunculuses for two or three sous. The flower-girls are quite troublesome; they follow one and throw the flowers into one's hand.