Before the 10th I saw several dancing parties of the Poissardes and sans-culottes in the beer-houses, on the Quai des Ormes and the Quai St. Paul, and have played the favourite and animating air of ça ira, on the fiddle, to eight couple of dancers; the ceiling of these rooms (which open into the street) is not above ten feet high, and on this ceiling (which is generally white washed) are the numbers 1 2 to 8, in black, and the same in red, which mark the places where the ladies and gentlemen are to stand. When the dance was concluded I requested the ladies to salute me (m'embrasser) which they did, by gently touching my cheek with their lips. But a period was put to all these amusements by the occurrences of the 10th; after which day, most of my time was employed in endeavouring to obtain a passport.
On the Quai des Augustins, at six or seven in the morning, may be seen a market of above a quarter of a mile long, well stocked with fowls, pigeons, ducks, geese and turkies: these birds are all termed Volaille. Rabbits are likewise sold in this market. I also saw here a few live pheasants, red-legged partridges and quails in cages, for sale.
I did not see a louis d'or this time in Paris, it is probable that a new golden coin may be struck of a different value and name, and without the name of the die-engraver.
There are few, if any, tables d'hôte (ordinaries) in Paris at present, except at the inns. I have not seen any for many years, because the hour of dining at them is about one o'clock, and that is customary to be served in those coffee-houses which are kept by restaurateurs and traiteurs (cooks) after the English manner, at small tables, and there are bills of fare, with the prices of the articles marked. The most celebrated of these houses is called la Taverne de Londres, in the garden of the Palais-Royal: here are large public rooms, and also many small ones, and a bill of fare printed on a folio sheet, containing almost every sort of provision, (carp, eels, and pickled salmon are the only fish I have seen there.) An Englishman may here have his beef-steak, plum-pudding, Cheshire cheese, porter and punch just as in London, and at about the same price, (half the price as the exchange then was.) Thirty-five sorts of wine are here enumerated. That of Tokay is at two livres for a small glass, of which a quart-bottle may contain about fifteen. Rhenish, Mountain, Alicante, Rota, and red Frontignan at 6 livres. Champagne, Claret, Hermitage, 4 l. 10f. Port 3l. 10f. Burgundy 3l. Porter 2l. 10f. Most of the dishes are of silver, and I dined at two or three other taverns where all the dishes and plates were of silver.
The barbers or hair-dressers have generally written on their sign Ici on rajeunit: rajeunir means properly to colour or die the hair, but in this instance it only expresses, here people are made to look younger than they are, by having their hair dressed. I saw a peruke-maker's sign representing the fable of the man and his two wives, thus: A middle-aged gentleman is fitting in a magnificent apartment, between an old lady and a young one, fashionably dressed. His head is entirely bald, the old lady having just pulled out the black hairs, as the young one did the grey: and Cupid is flying over his head, holding a nice periwig ready to put on it.
EXTENT, POPULATION, &C. OF FRANCE.
THE authorities for a great part of what follows are Mr. Rabaut's History of the Revolution, 1792; Mr. du Laure's Paris, 1791, Geographie de France, 1792, second edition, and Voyage dans les Departemens de la France, 1792.
France is a country which extends nine degrees from North to South, and between ten and eleven from East to West, making six and twenty thousand square leagues, and containing twenty-seven millions of people. In 1790, "There were four millions of armed men in France; three of these millions wore the uniform of the nation." The number of warriors, or fighting men is very considerably increased since that time.
"In this immense population is found at least three millions of individuals of different religions, whom the present catholicks look upon with brotherly eyes. The protestant and the catholick now embrace each other on the threshold where Coligni was murdered; and the disciples of Calvin invoke the Eternal after their manner, within a few paces[35] of the balcony from whence Charles IX. shot at his subjects."