From the etching by Félix Bracquemond, done in 1853
Size of the original etching, 8⁷/₁₆ × 6⅛ inches
Meryon. Le Pont au Change
“In one of his great plates, he has substituted for a little balloon a flight of birds of prey, and, when I remarked to him that it was lacking in verisimilitude to put so many eagles into a Parisian sky, he replied that what he had done was not devoid of foundation in fact, since ces gens-là [the imperial government] had often released eagles so as to study the presages, according to the rite,—and that this had been printed in the newspapers, even in Le Moniteur.”
Charles Baudelaire in a letter to Poulet-Malassis (January 8, 1860).
It is necessary to interrupt the letter at this point to explain what is obscure in the foregoing allusion for one not familiar with Baudelaire’s haunts and homes in Paris. He was living at this time, not in the Hôtel Pimodan where he dwelt so long, and where he held those famous meetings described by Gautier in his introductory essay to Fleurs du Mal, but in modest quarters in the Hotel de Dieppe, 22, rue d’Amsterdam, whose principal advantage was its proximity to the Gare de l’Ouest whence he took the train for Honfleur on his frequent visits to his mother. Thus, through a bizarre confusion between the two words, Dieppe and Thèbes, is explained Meryon’s curious mistake in addressing his letter to Baudelaire.
The poet proceeds with the following report of their conversation: “In one of his great plates,[3] he [Meryon] has substituted for a little balloon a flight of birds of prey, and, when I remarked to him that it was lacking in verisimilitude to put so many eagles into a Parisian sky, he replied that what he had done was not devoid of foundation in fact, since ces gens-là [the imperial government] had often released eagles so as to study the presages, according to the rite,—and that this had been printed in the newspapers, even in Le Moniteur.
[3] The Pont-au-Change.
“I must tell you that he makes no attempt to conceal his respect for all superstitions, but he explains them badly, and he sees cabal everywhere.
“He drew my attention to the fact, in another of his plates, that the shadows cast by one of the masonry constructions of the Pont-Neuf[4] on the lateral wall of the quay represented exactly the profile of a sphinx; that this had been, on his part, quite involuntary, and that he had only remarked this singularity later, on recalling that this design had been made a short time before the coup d’état. But the Prince is the real person who, by his acts and his visage, bears the closest resemblance to a sphinx.