The present cemetery was consecrated in 1804; and the entire grounds are walled in, and they are very nearly two hundred acres. You know how much I admire Greenwood and Mount Auburn. Well, I still prefer them to this Golgotha. The walks are some of them fine, but the tombs are too thick. There is no regularity. It looks as though there had been a rain storm of tombs and monuments, and they lie as they fell. This is the very metropolis of death. Some of the monuments are elegant indeed, but often their beauties are hidden. The most attractive spot to us was the resting-place of "the bravest of the brave." Ney yet has no monument. The tombs of Casimir Perrier, the Countess Demidoff, Abelard and Héloise, General Macdonald, Lavalette, Gobert, Foy, Molière, Laplace, and Junot are some that pleased us most, and are exquisite specimens of art. Many of these tombs have small rooms, with altars and glass doors. Opposite the altar is a chair, and we saw several mourners in devout attitude at the shrine of affection. I have heard from a Parisian of great intelligence, and who has been connected with the city government, that very nearly, if not quite, thirty millions of dollars have been spent upon this cemetery. Of course, the expense of sculpture here has been enormous, as the best talent of Europe has contributed to adorn the spot, and perpetuate the memory of the departed.
On leaving this charnel-house of mortality, we drove to the Abattoir de Popincourt, which is the largest in the city, and occupies six hundred and forty-five feet by fire hundred and seventy. On entering, we found four slaughter-houses, each standing alone. Here, too, are sheds for four thousand sheep, and stables for four hundred oxen. There are also four melting-houses. We also noticed a large building called the Triperie, for preparing tripe and the feet of animals. The week we were there the statistics of slaughter were as follows: Eight hundred and seventy-two oxen, three hundred and fifty-six cows, seven hundred calves, and two thousand eight hundred and seventy-five sheep. Nothing of the sort can be kept cleaner than this establishment. The water ran down every channel, and very little blood could be seen, or effluvia noticed. When will New York have its abattoirs? No city in the world needs such an auxiliary to health and comfort more than she does. Perhaps the good people will call for one after a few more visitations of cholera. There are four other similar establishments in Paris.
We had a nice ride home round the boulevards, and, stopping at the consul's office, found a famous budget of letters and papers, and with great pleasure we addressed ourselves to their contents. I am amused to see how various are the demands made upon the time and services of a consul. He needs to have the patience of Job; and if he answers satisfactorily and authoritatively the questions which I have heard propounded, he ought to have in his library the acts of every state legislature in the Union. Marriage, death, removal of deceased relatives from their places of sepulture, rates of interest, value of stocks, condition of railroads, and statistics of all sorts have been topics which I have heard laid before him for advice and opinion. Very few men, however, possess more general knowledge of the United States than our consul—Mr. Goodrich—does; and his kindness will lead him to do all he can to satisfy the querist.
Yours, as ever,
j.o.c.
Letter 30.
Paris.
Dear Charley:—
Yesterday we went to the Cirque, in the Champs Elysées. It is a very large building, with sixteen sides, and behind is another spacious one for the horses. The intention of the builder was to represent a Moorish hall; and the pillars of iron are, with the panellings of the walls, gilt and frescoed. The roof is very elegant, and the largest chandelier in Paris is in the centre, blazing with I cannot tell you how many gas lights. The circus will accommodate about six or seven thousand people, and when we were there it was very nearly full. We paid two francs each, and had the best seats. The performances were very good, and some quite beyond any thing I had before seen. There was one feat that was really great. They placed planks upon supporters, from the centre of the circus up to the edge of the gallery, making an angle of about fifty feet. Well, Charley, a fellow walked in with a ball, about three quarters of a yard in diameter, and on this ball he trotted about on the ground for perhaps two minutes; then he marches it to the foot of this plank, still standing on it, and up he goes,—yes, he totes and coaxes the ball under his feet, up, up,—till at last he stands on it on the gallery; and then, did not the place ring again with applause? But then it is not over; for down he comes the selfsame way—and that is the tug of war; but he did it. This he did backwards, also, each way. I never saw any thing before that would equal this, and I want to see him do it again before we leave Paris. The horsemanship was very good. But there was one fellow who threw himself into the very oddest attitudes you can fancy. He looked, as he moved about on the earth, like any thing but a human. We were all much amused with the audience. Entire families were there. You could see parties coming in where there was no mistake about grandfather and grandmother, father, mother, and all the children. It seems that all classes here have a taste for amusement, and pursue it with much earnestness. The audience behaved very well—every thing was quiet. I noticed a great many well-dressed women who carried round crickets to the ladies, for their feet, and for this they got a few sous.