Winged Wheels in France

by Michael Myers Shoemaker

THE ROUTE TO SAINT-GERMAIN-EN-LAYE—THE PEOPLE—THE CASTLE AND TERRACE—THEIR PICTURESQUE HISTORY—FIRST VIEW OF PARIS

It is close to high noon when we enter the ancient and once royal city of St. Germain-en-Laye, after some miles speeding through the aisles of her forest, where they say wild boar may be found to this day. As we enter the town, the people are streaming out of the churches and off and away in every sort of vehicle for the festal part of the day. How happy they all look, especially the children, whose faces are, as it were, mirrors reflecting the sunlight. Here are the funny little donkey and dog carts, both such serious-looking concerns. Yonder is a bridal coach with its happy party, and in this tram-car is another bridal party not at all ashamed of its costumes, and all around it seem bent upon making it happy for this one day at any rate. The morrow and its sorrows will come soon enough. This is a work-a-day world, and this festival will be looked back upon throughout all the coming years. I saw last spring in one of the Parisian gardens a bride in full regalia, veil and all, proudly seated on an elephant, and very happy over the admiration of the groom and the others around below her.

Passing rapidly through the streets of Saint-Germain we emerge upon the castle square, with that picturesque structure to our left, while far beyond it, along the brow of the hill, stretches the stately and famous terrace, its balustrade, vases, and statues glimmering white against the squarely trimmed, pale green trees bordering the walks, and behind all rise the darker masses of the forest. Off and away before us the land drops to where the Seine twists and winds through the valley of rich green. Yonder are the heights of Marly and the forest of Vésinet and beyond, the white city of Paris, glittering in the sunshine, spreads away over hill after hill, crowned on the one side by the Cathedral of Montmartre and on the other by the Fortress of Mt. Valerian. There is no fairer scene in all the world than this before us,—as there is no such fair city on earth as Paris in the month of May. All the world is abroad to-day. Here in the square of the palace of St. Germain the tide of people is quite tremendous, beating its human waves against the walls of this ancient abode of the kings of France and streaming far out upon the wide walks of her terrace.

If Louis le Grand should return and visit this favourite promenade, favourite until he grew old enough to find the plainly to be seen towers of St. Denis disagreeable of contemplation, what would he think of this democratic assemblage where two centuries ago all was state and ceremony, velvets and laces? However, there are women here as lovely as La Vallière or de Montespan, and he would probably arrange a later meeting with some of them. After all is said, the people are about the same, notwithstanding the lapse of centuries. There are plenty of La Vallières and Louises in plain air on yonder terrace to-day where the gay god of love reigns just as supreme as in the days of le grand Monarque.

THE CHÂTEAU OF SAINT-GERMAIN FROM THE NORTH
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein

This old castellated château before us was built by Charles V. and finally completed by Francis I. It was more of a fort than a palace, and far too sombre to please the gay Henry of Navarre, who had constructed a gorgeous palace near where the terrace now stands, and wherein Louis XIII. died. This was destroyed by Charles X.

But there were gay days even in this château before us. Louis XIV. was born here, and it was here that he came down through the trapdoor in the ceiling in search of La Vallière sleeping probably on straw. These old palaces were not always furnished and the king's bed was hauled from house to house many times. This is said to have occurred especially here at St.-Germain, to reach which it was in those days somewhat difficult.