Edwards Henry Sutherland
Old and New Paris: Its History, Its People, and Its Places, v. 1
Some houses were being pulled down in 1878 for the enlargement of the Mont-de-Piété when a tower belonging to the wall of Philip Augustus was brought to light. This was one of the four towers which flanked the circumvallation of the king just named. The old tower was consolidated and repaired. Near this spot stood, in 1258, the Convent of the White Cloaks, founded by the serfs of the Virgin Mary; to be replaced, in the same century, by the hermits of Saint William, who, in 1816, joined the congregation of the reformed Benedictines. The name of Blancs Manteaux is still connected with a street and a market in the neighbourhood. The Benedictines constructed their church and their monastery in 1695; and it was here that these learned men composed many of their works, imperishable monuments of their erudition. “The Art of Verifying Dates” and “The Collection of the Historians of France” may in particular be mentioned. Sold as national property in 1797, the Benedictine Church was bought back by the Town in 1807 and made the second parochial church of Saint-Merry, under the name of Notre Dame des Blancs Manteaux.
At the south-east corner of the Rue des Blancs Manteaux, in the Rue Vieille du Temple, stands, under the title of Hôtel de Hollande, all that remains of the ancient Hôtel de Rieux, at one time occupied by the Dutch ambassadors.
The turret at the corner of the Rues Vieille du Temple and Francs Bourgeois is remarkably picturesque.
Just to the right of the Rue Barbette is the ancient Palais Cardinal, forming the rear part of the Hôtel de Soubise, and containing the National Printing Office, there established by a decree of 1808. In the centre of the great courtyard a statue of Guttenberg, by David d’Angers, may be seen. On the first storey of the principal building is the bedroom of the Cardinal who played so sad a part in the “Affaire du Collier” – the affair, that is to say, of Marie Antoinette’s necklace, which caused such scandal immediately before the Revolution. Here is now housed the library of the National Printing Office, called the Hall of the Monkeys, by reason of its being decorated with scenes from monkey life, attributed to Boucher.
The Royal Printing Office, destined also to be called National and Imperial, according to the Government in power, was founded by King Louis XIII., and dates from 1640. Until that time the King employed private printers; Conrad Naebor, printer in Greek, with an annual allowance of 100 gold crowns, and Robert Estienne, printer in Latin and Hebrew. Though they printed for the King, both Naebor and Estienne had their own private printing offices. The Royal Printing Office was established by Louis XIII. at the Louvre, where it remained until the time of the Revolution – directed from 1691 to 1789 by Jean Anisson and members of his family. Then all kinds of printing offices were established under national control: a national legislative printing office, a national printing office of laws, a national executive printing office, etc. The Directory brought them all together in 1795, under the title of Printing Office of the Republic, which was established in the Rue de la Vrillière, at the Hôtel de Toulouse, afterwards occupied by the Bank of France. Since 1808 the National Printing Office (“Imperial” as it was called at the time) has not moved from the Palais Cardinal. It is governed by a director belonging to the Ministry, placed beneath the authority of the Minister of Justice. It prints for the State Le Bulletin des Lois, and all the papers, formulas, registers, and cards required by the different Ministries. It also prints – and in this resides its special importance – either at the expense of the State or of the authors, scientific and artistic works for which particular signs or characters, especially Oriental characters, are needed.
The scientific and artistic publications of the National Library are counted among the masterpieces of typography. Pierre Corneille’s edition of the “Imitation of Jesus Christ,” printed expressly for the Exhibition of 1867, was universally admired. Indeed, from 1809, when, after considerable delay, “The Description of Egypt,” based on the observations made during Bonaparte’s famous campaign, was published, until the present day, the National Printing Office of France has produced a large number of perfectly printed editions. In war, as in peace, this office received important benefits at the hands of the first Napoleon, who, to enrich it, deprived the Italians of a fine collection of Arabic and Persian characters.
At the time of the Restoration, the National, now Royal Printing Office, was placed under the direction of a member of the Anisson family, lineally descended from the Anisson of 1690, who, while working for the Government, carried on a printing office as a private enterprise, and made immense profits. After the Revolution of 1830 it was taken over by the State; and the Government of Louis Philippe purchased for the Royal Printing Institution all kinds of Oriental characters. Now, too, were for the first time acquired fonts of Russian, Servian, and other Slavonian type. At the request of the Government, moreover, a complete set of Chinese characters was sent from Pekin. Under various changes of government the National Printing Office has, from Louis Philippe until now, remained a State establishment.
It was calculated twenty years ago that the National Printing Office, with its one hundred hand-presses and a good number of presses worked by steam, prints every year about 200,000 reams of paper in different forms, or altogether about 100,000,000 sheets. Reducing these sheets to octavo volumes, each of thirty sheets, the National Printing Office produces every year 3,330,000 volumes; and reckoning 300 working days in the year, 11,100 volumes per day.
Beneath the statue of Guttenberg, cast from the statue by David d’Angers which adorns Strasburg, Guttenberg’s birthplace, is buried an historical account of the National Printing Office, with two commemorative medals.
One of the most interesting buildings in this neighbourhood is the Hôtel Lamoignon, which, by its architecture, presents the aspect of a fortress, though its walls and windows are ornamented with crescents, hunting-horns, and the heads of stags and hounds, in allusion to its having been built by Diana of France, the legitimatised daughter of Henri II. Passing down the Rue des Francs Bourgeois, along the southern wall of the Hôtel Carnavalet, we reach, on the left, the entrance to the Musée Carnavalet, associated with the illustrious names of Jean Goujon the sculptor, François Mansard the architect, and Mme. de Sévigné the charming letter-writer. The Hôtel Carnavalet, which the Marquise de Sévigné inhabited from 1677 to 1698, was restored in 1867 and the years following, when Baron Haussmann resolved to create a municipal museum; of which, however, mention has already been made. It is impossible to quit the Marais, the ancient district in which we have lately been lingering, without calling attention to the beautiful façade of the Hôtel Carnavalet, with its graceful representations of the four seasons.
We are now once more in the Rue Saint-Antoine, within a few paces of the ancient Rue de Birague, at the end of which is a large arcade leading to the Place Royale, which Parisians have not yet learned to call the Place des Vosges, a name given to it as long ago as 1800 by Lucien Bonaparte, Minister of the Interior, to reward the department of the Vosges for being the first department to pay certain taxes which had fallen into arrear. After being styled for thirty-four years, from the time of the Restoration, Place Royale, the square was named in 1848 Place des Vosges.
In the previous description of this Place reference has been made to the statue of Louis XIII. which stands in its centre; and also to the beautiful garden which belongs to it.
CHAPTER XXVIII
CENTRAL PARIS (continued)
The Rue Saint-Denis – Saint-Leu-Saint-Gilles – George Cadoudal – Saint-Eustache – The Central Markets – The General Post Office.
THE Rue Saint-Denis is by ancient tradition, and still in the present day, as a matter of fact, the favourite abode of the French bourgeois. Our aldermen have long ceased to live in the City, and a John Gilpin of our own time, wherever his place of business might be, would have his private residence at Clapham or Brixton, at Holloway or Highgate. The Paris tradesman, however, still lives, like the M. Jourdain in Molière’s “Bourgeois Gentilhomme,” above his shop; and his shop, in a good many typical cases, is, as it was two centuries ago, in the Rue Saint-Denis. “La Grande Rue Saint-Denis” the street was formerly called; and, as it is upwards of three-quarters of a mile long, it may be said to deserve its name. It is even now the most central and the most commercial street in Paris. According to Sanval, one of the many historians of the French capital, it is the street par excellence of all Paris. Voltaire, on the other hand, detested this street, and had good reasons for doing so. One day, when he was but seventeen years of age, he found himself by chance in the Rue Saint-Denis, with his purse well filled, at the very moment when an auctioneer was selling the goods of an unfortunate man who had not been able to pay his taxes. A carriage, with two horses, and the livery of the indispensable footmen, was put up, and in a sudden fit of wildness, the young philosopher, not yet philosophical, purchased the lot. The coachman, who was looking on, offered his services, which the youthful Voltaire at once accepted. “Put in the horses and get up on the box,” he said; and the schoolboy, who had just left the Jesuits’ College, was seen driving along the Rue Saint-Denis; not, however, for any length of time. The coachman he had engaged, an awkward fellow, managed, at the corner of the street, to upset the carriage. Voltaire’s ardour now subsided and he lost no time in getting rid of his newly-acquired equipage. The Rue Saint-Denis, in consequence, no doubt, of this accident, had made a bad impression on Voltaire; and in after days he never spoke of it without sarcasm.
The Rue Saint-Denis was originally nothing but a highway leading to the Abbey of Saint-Denis; and one of its frequenters is said to have been that very Saint Denis whose name it was afterwards to bear. The highway, thanks to its central position, was soon lined with houses, and before long every house in the street had its shop. Along this great thoroughfare the kings and queens of France passed in returning from their coronations; and it was by the same road that they proceeded to their last resting-place. The Rue Saint-Denis became at once the central line of communication and the central commercial street of Paris. Then it was that the name of “La Grande Rue Saint-Denis” was given to it – a title it well might bear even in the present day.
The Rue Saint-Denis connects the quarter of the “halles,” or public markets, with the Bonne Nouvelle quarter. After crossing the Rue Saint-Honoré the Rue Saint-Denis breaks off on the left, interrupted by the Square of the Innocents, in the centre of which stands the fountain of the same name. This square replaces the Market of the Innocents abolished in 1860. The fountain dates from the thirteenth century, having been repaired in 1550 by Pierre Lescot, with Jean Goujon for his assistant. Despite the many alterations and modifications it has undergone, the fountain is still remarkable for a certain nobility and grace. But the five water-nymphs of Jean Goujon, worn by the rays of the sun and by the spray of the cascade, show signs of decay; and it has been proposed to replace them by copies, while preserving the originals in the Louvre.
A little higher up on the right is the Church of Saint-Leu-Saint-Gilles, founded in 1235, and raised to the position of parish church in 1617. It has been so often repaired and reconstructed that very little of the original building remains. The church possesses a portrait of Saint-François de Salles, painted after his death by Philippe de Champagne, and a picture of the year 1772, embodying the legend of the soldier who was burnt in 1415 for having stabbed with his knife an image of the Virgin which stood at the corner of the Rue aux Ours, now known as Rue de la Bourse. The image, according to the tradition, shed blood in atonement for the soldier’s profanity. An expiatory festival, which lasted three days, used to be celebrated up to the time of the Revolution.
It was in the Church of Saint-Leu-Saint-Gilles that an heroic priest dared, in 1793, at the height of the Reign of Terror, to say a mass for the soul of the Princesse de Lamballe immediately after her execution.
Here, too, George Cadoudal, the Vendean chief, pursued by the police, concealed himself for several days in one of the subterranean tombs. Cadoudal was the son of a farmer. But like all classes in La Vendée, he was devoted to the Monarchy, and joined one of the first bands formed during the Reign of Terror to fight against the Revolution. After the defeat of the principal corps, Cadoudal was arrested and imprisoned at Brest. He made his escape, however, and soon became one of the most formidable leaders of the rebellion in Brittany, known as that of the Chouans – so called from their cry of recognition resembling that of the screech-owl or chouette. In 1796 he surrendered to Hoche, and was pardoned on condition of not again bearing arms against the Republic. This, however, did not prevent him from heading a new insurrection in 1799. Again defeated, he was received in conference by General Brune, and was once more released on the same conditions as before. The First Consul wished to take him into his service, but Cadoudal would listen to no offers from one whom he regarded as a usurper. He now, in the year 1800, left France for England, where he received, with congratulations on the part of the English Government, the rank of lieutenant-general and the Grand Cordon of Saint Louis, the commission and the decoration being both handed to him by the Count of Artois in the name of Louis XVIII.
After many vain attempts to bring about a new insurrection in the west of France, he resolved to attack Bonaparte’s Government in Paris itself, and sent on one of his officers, Saint-Régent, to prepare the way for him. He afterwards denied all complicity in Saint-Régent’s plot against Bonaparte’s life. “He was at Paris,” said Cadoudal, “in obedience to my orders, but I never ordered him to construct and employ his infernal machine.” Cadoudal was in Brittany at the time. But closely pursued, he was advised once more to take refuge in England, where, with Pichegru and the Count of Artois, he prepared another plot against the First Consul, who was now to be arrested and carried away.
In August, 1803, Cadoudal went to Paris, and remained there, in spite of the constant search of which he was the object, for seven months. He was at last arrested in a hackney-cab, but not until after he had killed one of the police agents. Brought to trial, he avowed that his object had been to upset the Government in order to place Louis XVIII. on the throne. He was executed with eleven of his accomplices. After the Restoration his family was ennobled by Louis XVIII.
The Church of Saint-Leu-Saint-Gilles was converted during the Revolution into a salt-petre store, and then fell into the possession of Jews, from whom it was bought back when public worship was restored in France.
Further on is the Abbey of Saint-Magloire, and beyond that the asylum of Saint-Jacques aux Pelerins, which dates from the early part of the fourteenth century. In 1317 under the reign of Philip V., called The Long, many notable and devout persons who had made the pilgrimage to Saint James Compostella in Galicia, moved by devotion, meditated the construction of a church and an asylum in the Rue Saint-Denis, to the glory of God, the Holy Virgin, and Saint James the Apostle, in order to lodge and feed the pilgrims, whether going or coming. The church was built with an asylum joined to it, and it was open, not only to the pilgrims, but also to seventy poor persons whom it received every day.
The Abbey of Saint-Magloire dates from the tenth century, when it stood half-way on the road from the Cité to Saint-Denis. It was converted by Marie de Médicis into a convent known as that of the Filles-Dieu, where penitent girls found shelter. It was suppressed, like all the other religious houses, in 1793. Some fifty years afterwards the foundations of the convent, which had fallen into ruin, were being dug up with a view to some new building, when ten Gothic statues were discovered, mutilated and blackened. Among the stone figures Saint James was easily recognised by his pilgrim’s costume. The statues were claimed by the town, and now figure in the Musée des Thermes. The shop which at present occupies the site of the ancient convent has for its sign: – “Aux Statues de Saint-Jacques.”
Another famous convent existed at one time in the Rue Saint-Jacques – the Convent of the Holy Sepulchre it was called, also known as the Hôtel of the Trinity. Built for the pilgrims returning from the East, it was kept up until the taking of Constantinople, more than a hundred years later. The Holy Sepulchre having then fallen into the hands of the Turks, the idea of making pilgrimages to it came to an end; and the hostelry for pilgrims to the Holy Land was no longer required. The convent was now occupied by the Brothers of the Passion, who had obtained letters patent from Charles VI. empowering them to play religious mysteries. Thus the earliest of French theatres stood in the Rue Saint-Denis. It has been said that the kings of France made their coronation processions along the Rue Saint-Denis; and when Louis XI. was crowned, fountains of wine, milk, and mead were established over the whole length of the Rue Saint-Denis. In the present day the Rue Saint-Denis has lost much of its ancient animation through the formation of the Boulevard de Sebastopol. But under the ancient régime it was really the leading thoroughfare in Paris. When, after the surrender of Paris to Henri IV., the Spanish garrison marched away, they defiled down the Rue Saint-Denis, while the king, standing at an open window, called out: “Now go home, and do not let us see you here again.” The Rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis, on the other side of the boulevard, is less rich in historical associations than the Rue Saint-Denis itself. It may be mentioned, however, that at Saint-Lazare the bodies of the French kings made a halt on their way to their last resting-place in the Abbey of Saint-Denis.
The region comprised between the left side of the Rue Saint-Denis, the Rue de Rivoli on the south, the Rue Croix des Petits Champs on the west, and the Rue Étienne Marcel on the north, forms the vast quarter of the markets, with the parish church of Saint-Eustache, the Protestant Temple of the Oratory, the Central Markets, and the old Corn Market as its principal features.
Saint-Eustache is one of the most remarkable and one of the most admired churches in Paris. Erected on the site of an ancient chapel dedicated to Saint Agnes, which dated from the first years of the thirteenth century, it was already a parish church, under the invocation of Saint Eustache, in 1223. In the course of the next three centuries it became the richest and most frequented church in Paris. After Notre Dame, the Church of Saint-Eustache is the largest in Paris. Its coloured windows, signed Soulignac, and dating from the year 1631, eleven in number, are admirable alike by colour and by design. In addition to its mural paintings, dating from the reign of Louis XIII. (discovered beneath a thick coat of plaster in 1849), Saint-Eustache contains a number of frescoes and paintings of high merit. In the Ninth Chapel the tomb of the great Colbert, executed by Coysevox, after the designs of Lebrun, is to be seen. The grand organ, reconstructed in 1844 after a destructive fire, is one of the most complete and most sonorous that exists. This church, thanks to its colossal dimensions and to the perfection of its organs (one at each end), is the favourite church of musicians; and it is here that the Society of Musical Artists celebrates annually the festival of Saint-Cecilia, their revered patroness. On such occasions a new mass or musical service of some kind is given; and it was in this church that the Abbé Liszt had one of his most famous masses performed only a few months before his death. The angle formed by the meeting of the streets called Montmartre, Pont-Neuf, Montorgueil, and Rambuteau, is known as the “Saint-Eustache Point.” It dominates the vast quadrilateral occupied by the Central Markets.
The Central Markets were founded by Philip Augustus, and they were soon surrounded by houses and shops. These markets in their present form were constructed on one design, and, so to say, at a stroke, under the reign of Napoleon III., by the architect Beltard, who sought his model in the finest of the Paris railway stations. The principal office of the fish market, at the corner of the Rue Pirouette and of the Rue Rambuteau, is in the ancient Hôtel du Heaume, a building of the fourteenth century. At number 108, Rue Rambuteau, was born Regnard, author of “The Gambler” and of “The Universal Legatee,” the house having been owned by his father, a fish salesman beneath the sign of Notre Dame. A little nearer the Church of Saint-Eustache, just at the mouth of the Rue de la Réalle, stands a house which once belonged to the carpet-maker, Jean Poquelin, and afterwards to his son and heir, J. B. Poquelin, better known by his adopted name of Molière. For the name of Poquelin, by the way, he was indebted to an ancestor serving in the Scottish Guard, who bore the surname and came from the place of Pawkelin.
The Paris markets are the scene of constant activity from morning till evening. Buying and selling comes to an end, it is true, with the approach of night; but then the remains of what has been sold, with rubbish of all kinds, have to be cleared away, and scarcely has this been done, when market carts arrive with produce for the next day. The provisions brought to Paris are either sold to the factors of the market, who buy wholesale and sell retail, or to the market men and market women, or to any private person whom it may suit to become a purchaser. The finest, best, and most highly quoted vegetables and fruits come from the suburbs of Paris, where kitchen-gardening is carried to the last point of perfection. The farmers and gardeners of the environs, whose heavily-laden carts arrive towards nine in the evening, are their own salesmen in the markets. The growers of the departments and of Algeria send their fruit and their fresh vegetables to factors or commissioners, to be sold either in Pavilion Number 6 – reserved for this kind of business – or at shops established in the neighbourhood of the markets.
It is calculated that in the course of the year the sales of fruit and vegetables amount to 241 millions of kilogrammes (one kilogramme represents upwards of two pounds), to which must be added nine million kilogrammes of fresh grapes, 30 million kilogrammes of sea and river fish (including lobsters and crayfish), eight million kilogrammes of oysters from various parts, 18 million kilogrammes of butter, 57 million kilogrammes of cheese, 181 million kilogrammes of meat of all kinds, 24 million kilogrammes of poultry and game; besides 20,721,600 kilogrammes of eggs, representing eggs to the number of 414 million – which gives to each Parisian an average of 166 eggs in the year. This figure, indeed, understates the fact, for the supply contributed by Paris itself has not been reckoned. Paris contains a number of cow-houses and small dairy farms, where milk and eggs are sold morning and evening, new-laid eggs, of which the Parisians are particularly fond, fetching from three to four sous apiece. There are fowls, too, in the Garden of Acclimatization; also in the large stables of the omnibus and cab companies. Many private persons, moreover, keep fowls. During the siege of 1870 a provision dealer in the Rue Vivienne kept on a marble counter a fowl which, when so disposed, laid beneath the eyes of the customer; and the eggs, whose freshness was unimpeachable, were sold at three francs apiece.
There is a great sale, moreover, in the Paris markets for raised pies of various kinds coming from Agen, Périgueux, Marseilles, Pithiviers, Chartres, Amiens, Auvernay, Colmar, and Strasburg. These are estimated at 1,250,000 kilogrammes in the course of the year. But such a figure represents only a small portion of the pâtés consumed by the Parisians, large numbers of the delicacies being made in Paris itself, either by pastry-cooks of repute or by the best restaurateurs. At rich private houses, as at the principal clubs, where the kitchen is in the hands of eminent chefs, the pastry is always prepared on the premises. Season the whole with 20 million kilogrammes of grey or white salt, pepper, oil, and vinegar, and Paris will be found to consume of market food-produce alone, 640 million kilogrammes, without counting bread, the consumption of which is estimated at 700 million kilogrammes per year. Each Parisian, male or female, small or great, consumes every year on the average 600 kilogrammes of food, which is washed down with 600 million litres of wine, beer, cider, or perry, independent of coffee and liqueurs, such as Cognac, Chartreuse, rum, Curaçao, kümmel, and kirsch.
From the above figures it will be gathered that the Parisian population is well fed; and such is indeed the case. The very poor find their profit in the superfluity of the very rich; while the working classes profit by the relative cheapness of everything. If the minor restaurants, where dinner can be had for 22 sous and breakfast or lunch for 16 sous, are found too dear, there are the crèmeries and the wine shops, where a basin of soup, a slice of boiled beef, and a piece of bread may be had for 8 sous. A number of charitable institutions, moreover, exist, where a basin of soup or a slice of meat costs only 2 sous, or, in some instances, is given gratuitously.
The corn market occupies a portion of the site of the ancient Hôtel de Soissons, given to the convent of Penitent Girls by Louis XII., from whom Catherine de Médicis bought it in 1572 as a residence for herself. A curious and significant memorial of the queen mother’s abode subsists in the shape of a column 30 metres high (the French metre is somewhat longer than the English yard), which is said to have been erected for Ruggieri, chief astrologer to the queen. At the base of the column is a fountain inscribed with the Arms of Paris; at the summit a sun-dial, constructed by Canon Pingré.
Two interesting buildings of different, and, indeed, opposite characters, that must not be forgotten in connection with the central markets are the new Commercial Exchange (in the Rue Etienne Marcel) and the old Fortress of John the Fearless, a very interesting specimen of the mediæval military architecture.
The greater part of this ancient quarter has been pulled down, and in place of it has arisen a new General Post Office (Hôtel des Postes), a building which resembles at once a barrack, a prison, a market-place, and a stable. The despatch, reception, and distribution of letters and printed papers is managed in the upper storeys, to which there are lifts, while the ground floor is reserved for the public. The former Hôtel des Postes, which has been absorbed in the new one, belonged successively to the Duke of Epernon and to the Controller-General, Barthélemy d’Hervart, from whom, on a memorable occasion, La Fontaine received hospitality.
The General Post Office of Paris, and central post office of all France, is established in a collection of houses, of which at least one possesses an historical character. Among the numerous persons of distinction who have from time to time directed the French Post Office mention in particular must be made of M. de Lavalette, who began life as a lawyer’s clerk, entered, at the time of the Revolution, the National Guard, and volunteered to serve with the army when war broke out. He distinguished himself at Arcola, and attracted the attention of Bonaparte, who promoted him to the rank of captain, appointed him one of his aides-de-camp, and afterwards gave him in marriage the niece of his wife Joséphine. After taking part in the campaigns of Egypt, Germany, and Prussia, he was charged with the reorganisation of the Post Office, received the appointment of general-director, together with the title of Count, and the right of sitting in the Council of State. Dismissed by the Bourbons in 1814, he did his utmost towards bringing the dethroned Emperor from Elba, and, on the news of his arrival in France, took possession of the Post Office; in return for which Napoleon gave him the superior appointment of Minister of the Interior. After the battle of Waterloo and the Second Restoration, Lavalette was arrested, brought to trial on a charge of high treason, and condemned to death. His wife, however, Louise de Beauharnais, had sworn to save him, and with this view sought an audience of King Louis XVIII. She had many friends who were all willing to aid her in her wifely enterprise. The Duke de Richelieu promised to speak to the Duchess of Angoulême in favour of Lavalette; and she, it was hoped, would intercede with the king. Marmont, an intimate friend of the prisoner, had arranged to take the young wife to the Tuileries; but on the very day appointed for this purpose an order was issued that no woman was, under any circumstances, to enter the palace. The explanation of so unexpected an edict was that the Duchess of Angoulême had resolved not only to say nothing to the king on Lavalette’s behalf, but to prevent anyone else, and especially his wife, from uttering a word to His Majesty on the subject. Marmont, however, accompanied by Mme. de Lavalette, contrived to force his way into the palace, and took up his position, with the agitated wife by his side, in a room through which he knew that the king and the Duchess of Angoulême would pass, on returning from mass. Seeing the unhappy woman on her knees, the duchess turned her head away; while the king, after receiving a petition from her, muttered something unintelligible, and walked on. All hope of pardon had vanished; and it was understood that the execution would take place the following day. Foreseeing what in all probability would happen, Mme. de Lavalette had already formed a plan for her husband’s escape. One of her associates in the enterprise was an old friend of Lavalette’s named Baudus, who, in case of success, had prepared a safe asylum for the prisoner at the house of an old member of the Convention named Bresson, then chief of a division in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The very evening of the day on which she had gone to the Tuileries Mme. de Lavalette was taken to the Conciergerie in a Sedan chair, accompanied by her daughter, a girl of 14, and an old governess. The husband and wife dined together in a separate room; then the countess exchanged clothes with the prisoner. During this time a stupid servant was imprudent enough to say to the porters that they would find their load heavier than when they brought it in; adding, “But there will be 25 louis to pocket.” “We are to take away M. de Lavalette, are we?” asked one of the porters. Thereupon he refused to have anything more to do with the affair, and withdrew, but without divulging the secret. Another man was found to replace him. At last, after a painful leave-taking, three women appeared in the lobby of the prison; one of them being in such a state of grief that, covering her face with her handkerchief, she did nothing but sob. The janitor helped her out of the prison without venturing to lift up the veil she wore. Then going to the room which the prisoner had occupied, he saw no one there but Mme. de Lavalette.
