These regulations are similar to those of our modern omnibus; but the quality of the passengers was more arbitrary; for in the tenth volume of this same Register, we find it enacted that "Soldiers, Pages, Lacqueys and other gentry in Livery, also Mechanics and Workmen shall not be able to enter the said coaches," etc., etc.
The first route was opened on the 18th of March; the second on the 11th of April, running from the Rue Saint Antoine to the Rue Saint Honoré, as high as St. Roch's church. On this second opening, a placard announced to the citizens that the directors "had received advice of some inconveniences that might annoy persons desirous of making use of their conveyances, such, for instance, when the coachman refuses to stop to take them up on the route, even though there are empty places, and other similar occurrences; this is to give notice that all the coaches have been numbered, and that the number is placed at the top of the moutons, on each side of the coachman's box, together with the fleur de lis—one, two, three, etc., according to the number of coaches on each route. And so those who have any reason to complain of the coachman, are prayed to remember the number of the coach, and to give advice of it to the clerk of one of the offices, so that order may be established."
The third route, which ran from the Rue Montmartre and the Rue Neuve Saint Eustache to the Luxembourg Palace, was opened on the 22d of May of the same year. The placard which conveys the announcement to the public, gives notice also, "that to prevent the delay of money-changing, which always consumes much time, no gold will be received."
Every arrangement having thus been made to render these cheap coaches useful and agreeable, they very soon became the fashion; a three act comedy in verse, entitled, "The intrigue of the coaches at five sous," written by an actor named Chevalier, was even represented in 1662 at the Theatre of the Marais. An extract from this play is given in the history of the French Theatre, by the Brothers Parfaict.
But the ingenious and useful innovation on the old hackney-coach system, though so well conducted and so well administered, so highly protected, and so warmly welcomed, was not destined to live long. After a very few years, the undertaking failed, and the omnibus was forgotten for nearly two centuries! Sauval tells us that Pascal's death was the cause of this misfortune; but the coaches continued to prosper for three or four years after that event.
"Every one," says Sauval, in a curious page of his Antiquities, "during two years found these coaches so convenient that auditors and masters of comptes, counsellors of the Chatelet and of the court, made no scruple to use them to go to the Chatelet or to the palace, and this caused the price to be raised one sou; even the Duke of Enghien [Footnote 48] has travelled in them. But what do I say? The king, when passing the summer at Saint-Germain, whither he had consented that these coaches should come, went in one of them, for his amusement, from the old castle, where he was staying, to the new one to visit the queen-mother. Notwithstanding this great fashion, these coaches were so despised three or four years after their establishment that no one would make use of them, and their ill success was attributed to the death of Pascal, the celebrated mathematician; it is said that he was the inventor of them, as well as the leader of the enterprise; it is moreover assured that he had made their horoscope and given them to the publicunder a certain constellation whose bad influences he knew how to turn aside."
[Footnote 48: Henri-Jules de Bourbon-Condé, son of the great Condé.]
We can give no description of this ancient omnibus; no drawing or engraving of it is believed to exist; but it is probable that it resembled the coaches represented in the paintings of Van der Meulan and Martin.
It is impossible to attribute to any other cause than that of the arbitrary choice of passengers, the failure of an undertaking which appeared to possess every element of success. The people who needed the cheap coach were debarred from the use of it; the tired artisan returning from his hard day's work; the jaded soldier hurrying to his barrack before the beat of the tattoo that recalled him had ceased; the pale seamstress with her bundle; each was refused the five sous lift, and had to foot the weary way; while the aristocracy and rich middle class enjoyed the ride, not as a social want, but as a fashionable diversion, and tired of it after a time, as fashionable people even now tire of everything fashionable. It was reserved for the marvellous nineteenth century, so fruitful in good works, to endow us with the true omnibus, that is, a carriage for the use of every one indiscriminately, in which the gentleman and the laborer, the rich man and the poor man can ride side by side. This really popular conveyance has now become in all highly civilized communities so veritable a necessity and habit that it can never again fall and be forgotten like its faulty forerunner, or the omnibus of two hundred years ago.