The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1871-05-13 00:00:00

A MYSTERY OF PARIS.

The reigning scandal of the day is the affair of the
Convent of Picpus (writes the Paris correspondent of
The Times). So highly roused has public indignation
been by the supposed discovery of atrocities committed
within those jealous walls that the people have been
peremptorily excluded until the investigations of j aatice
shall be complete. I managed, however, to penetrate
within the precincts by attaching myself to the csrtilge
of an English friend, who was journeying thitherunder
special official orders, to investigate the case of an
English Sister named Garret. In the Rae de Picpus,
near Mazas prison, stand two large buildings, each
surrounded by high walls, above which may be seen
green trees at intervals. The one Is an establishment
of the Jesuits, ; the other the Convent of the White
Nuns. The Jesuit Brothers escaped at the first sign
of approaching danger, but the Sisters held their own
until forced into cabs and conveyed to the cells of St.
Lazare, there to await the results of a judicial inquiry
into certain matters that are deemed suspicions.
Arrived at the gate of the Convent, we were obliged
to force our way through a crowd of angry people who
demanded instant permission to enter, and who were
as persistently swept back by a group of National
Guards—we, however, being admitted inside the door
under cover of the official pass and signatures. In the
courtyard, under the shade of some bee trees, a few
Guards were playdig bowls in the Jesuits' alley, and
making up to one of them, whose cap displayed tokens
of authority, we mentioned our business, and begged
permission to see what was to be seen. Our friend
was very civil, accepted a cigar, and marched us off
to go the rounds. lie pointed out to us the fact,
of which there certainly could exist no kind of doubt,
, that the two buildings communicated one with the
other, by means of an old door which still exists at
the back of a stable, as well an by other apertures in
the garden wall, which show signs of having been
recently closed up. The Jesuits' garden is a most
beautiful one, occupying a space of some twelve acres,
laid out with care and furniffied with fruit trees of
every description, pruned and trained after the latest
horticultural designs. There are wondrously ingenious
plan', too, for irrigating the beds; forcing pits and
hothonses, and long alleys with vines trained over
them. . .

Through the old door above-mentioned we passed
into the Sisters' garden, equally large and beautiful
though not kept with the same care. In the centre
stands a gymnasium, I suppose for the use of the
children brought up under the Sister's care, and
further on their cemetery, a lovely spot, where,
under the heavy shade of the cypresses, lie
bearers of some of the most ancient names in France
—" Prince of Salm.Kyrbourg, immolated under the
Terror, aged 49 ;" " Rochefoucauld," "De Noailles,"
"Montmorency," "the great Lafayette," the whole
family of the Talleyrand-Perigords, and legions of
Princes and Princesses. Some of the vaults have '
been r pened, and many lead coifing!, half.covered with
rotting velvet and gold lace, lie expeand to the light
of day, awaiting an examination at the hands of the
Minister of Justice. At the extreme end of the garden, ,
however, are the three little conical huts, side by side,
resembling white ants' nests, which have been the
prime cause of so much excitement and judical
inquiry. When the Convent was occupied by the
National Guards these little huts were tenanted each
by an old woman, encicsed in a wooden cage, Like a
chickens' pen, the three buildings being similar in hize
and construction, six feet square by seven in height,
with a slate roof, through which daylight was visible,
while the three old women were all of them hopeless
idiots. The Lady Superior has kept her lips reso-
lutely closed up to the present time, but admitted,
when first questioned, that the three eufferers
had lived in their hideous prison for nine
yews, in an atmosphere of stifling heat through-
out the summer and half frozen with cold through-
out tie winter; "but," she added, "they were idiots
when they came." The conductor of the inquiry re-
plied that, if such were the case, it was illegal to have
admitted them to the Convent at all, and that even
supposing them to have been admitted, the place where
they were found was not a fit dwelling-place for a dog.
A key was discovered among her papers, labelled
"key of the great vault ;" but where this great vault
may be has not yet been found out. The Superior and
her nuns keep • uniform and persistent silence upon

the point ; exciTwitions have been made at different
points in the garden, and under the high altar of the
chapel, but hitherto without effect.
At one end of the nuns' garden stands an isolated
building, in which were found mattresses furnished
with straps and buckles, also two iron corsets, an iron
skullcap, and a species of rack turned by a cog-wheel,
evidently intended for bending back the body with
force. The Superior explained that these were
orthopre lic instruments—a superficial falsehood. The
mattreesea and straps struck me as being easily ac-
counted for; I have seen such things used in French
midwifery, and in cases of violent delirium ; but the
rack and its adjuncts are justly objects of grave sus-
picion, for they imply a use of brutal force which no
disease at present k oown would justify.

On our way back through the gardens our guide
made a ffieuir in order to show us a great subterranean
warehouse where an enormous quantity of potatoes was
atored,as well as barrels full of salt pork, while in a yard
hard by lay grunting a fat pig. "look at this !" cried
our National Guard indignantly. "Look at theee stores,
which might have helped to feed the starving poor of
the arrondissement during our six months' siege, and
think that these people were begging from door to door
the whole time for money to buy broken victuals for
their pensioners !" Arrived at the entrance gate our
guide nudged me, telling rce in whispers to look at
the old woman who VMS wandering abut, followed
by a younger one, stooping from time to time to pick
up a leaf or rub her hands with sand and gravel.
" That is ;Sour Bernardino," he said, "one of the
three prisoners of the wooden cages. She is the roost
Pane in mind of the three, and we keep her here under
the care of one of our wives to cheer her up. She is
only 50, though she looks past 70. The other two
have been removed, as they were rendered violent
by the crowd and change of scene." I passed close
to her and she looked up—a soft, pale face, with
sunken eyes shaded by the frills of a great cap.
She looked at me dazedly, without taking any
notice, and stooping again filled her hands with refuse
coffee grounds, which she put into her mouth until
prevented by her companion. Without showing the
least prejudice in the matter, I think I can safely say
that the ladies now shut up at St. Lazare will find it
no easy matter to clear themselves of blame ; for,
though there are doubtless many suspicious circum-
stances that may be explained away, there are also
hard facts which will remain hard facts in spite of the
most elaborate attempts at refutation.

In connection with the foregoing subject, the A eettir
IVattoned has published a letter from the former pupils
of a convent in Paris, protesting against the calumnies
of the Mot d'Ordre and the Cri du People against the
religieuses known as the "Dames Blanches." They
declare that the Sisters Victoire, Bernardine, and
Stephanie, have been mad for years; that the supposed
Instruments of torture are simply orthopmlic. The
baby's cradle was a child's toy. The human hones
were found in a part of the property which was
formerly a cemetery. The Mot d ordre maintains the
correctness of its charges against this religious cots.
blishment. It invites citizens to assure themselves
that the details are rather softened than exaggerated.
The Sisters of the convent who have been arrested have
been transferred to St. Lazare.

A POPULAR FETE at the TUILERIES.
The Special Correspondent of The Tim',,, writing from
Paris, the 7th Instant, has seat the following Interestlng
sketch:—
In consequence of a large placard pes-ted over the
walls of Paris this morning I passed through the gate
of the private garden of the Tuileries, and made my
way. in company with a crowd of citizens of all classes,
through the apartments occupied but stew months ago
by the ex-Emperor and Empress. The printed invita-
tion announced that we might see the rooms in which
the "tyrant' had lived for the modest sum of 500.,
but that, should we think proper to take tickets for
the concert, "whereby these saloons might be at
length rendered useful to the people," we should be
permitted to enjoy the extra show gratis. I took a
ticket, and joined myself to a hot stream of people
who belonged to every nationality and rank of life,
and whose remarks and criticisms were most edifying.
There were shopkeepers and their wives, only too de-
lighted to take advantage of the mildest dissipation ;
gentlemen whose National Guard trousers were rrn-
dered respectable by the gray jacket or blouse of a
citizen ; humdrum housewives who approved every-
thing, and gaped their admiration of so much gorgeous
wall-colouring ; there were flaunting ladies in bonnets
of the latest fashion and marvellous petticoats, who
criticised the curtains and pointed the parasol of scorn
at faded draperies ; people who felt the heavy hand of
the spectre of departed glory, and people who exulted
at beholding the hidden recesses of an Imperial man-
sion laid bare to the jukes and ribaldry of Belleville
and La Villette.

Every class of Parisian society was represented in
the throng that swayed and hustled through the rooms,
but the saddest sight of all was the knot or two of
decrepit veterans from the Invalides who leant against
the balustrade of the grand staircase, and gazed with
pinched-up lips and dry eyes at the National Guards
on duty, lounging and carousing down below. The
stairs were littered with bedding and cooking utensils,
shirts and stockings hanging to dry over the gilt
railings, while in the square at the stairs' foot
were ranged benches and boards on trestles, and
there the soldiers of the Guard sat in pictureeque
groups enough, contrasting in the carelessness and
dirt of their general appearance with the lavish ores.
merits if marble and gilt work which served as a back-
ground to their figures. Marching orders, more or lees
thumbed and torn, hung in fragments from the panelled
walls; names in petal and name, in ink, and names
scrawled with a finger-nail, defaced the doors and stair.
case wall. A sentry stood at every door to see that
the citizens behaved themselves a precaution by no
means unnecessary, the outward aspect of certain
members of the crowd being taken into consideration.
In the Salle de la Pain a number of women were
busy uncovering a number of chairs for the promised
concert, and in the Salle des Marechaux beyond, where
the concert was to be given, velvet benches were
already occupied by old ladies in white caps with
baskets in their hands, who presented a stern
aspect of endurance, as though they were determined
to sit there through the preparations as well as the
promised entertainment, and still to continue Bitting
until turned out by sword and bayonet. The "Salle
des MarFchaux " exists no more except in name, for
men on ladders were employed covering up the por.
traits which decorate the hall with screens of red
Bilk—l suppose lest the past glory of French hr-roes
should pale the brilliancy of the National Guard, just
an the ban-reliefs of the VendOoie Column act as an
outrage upon the susceptibilities of the Commune.
White cloths were being tied over the busts of
Napoleon's Generals, and everything relatirg to the
past carefully obliterated—a rather foolish proceeding,
considering that the bee-spangled Imperial curtains
still hang over the doors, and festoons of the same
drapery decorate the gallery above. The brocaded
panels of the Salle du Throne were objects of much
remark among the ladies, as were the tapestries of the
Salle des Gobelins ; but the bareness and total
absence of furniture were commented on freely on all
aides.

Not a chair or a window blind, or even a door-plate
or handle, is to be seen in any of the roomP, except in
those used for the concerts, and the question arose,
naturally enough, "Where is it all gone to ? " The
same demand was made no often of an elderly bourgeois
on duty at the end of the Salle de Diane that he was
fairly bewildered, and looked round for help, and,
hailing the gold stripes on my cap as a haven of relief,
he forthwith seized upon me an a superior officer, and
Insisted on an explanation. "You know there were
quantitied of cases carried off during the time before
Sedan," he said, "but, with all their cunning, they
can't have dismantled a whole palace of this size, can
they? " And the crowd stcoi round endeavouring to
account for the nakedness of the land, until a remark
that the Commune had been feathering their node with
the chairs and tables dispersed them laughing.

The Empress's bedroom was a great attraction,
Chaplin's charming decorations being subjects of milli •
cient interest, independent of the absent furniture.
The looking-glasses which spring from the walls called
down ejaculations of delight from a party of dress-
makers, who carefully took notes of the mechanism,
" in order to imitate it, my dear, when Paris becomes
itself again." There was a large placard upon the
wall of a kind of library, inviting the attention of the
Public to the secret arrangements in a recess whereby
the Empress obtained her dresses and linen from
some manufactory of garments above, and an old lady,
after having carefully examined the elaborate details,
turned away with a sigh and a shake of the head.
"How foolish of them, after all, not to have done a
little for us, In order that they might have continued
to abide in this paradise " How d fferent was the
Empress's apartment this morning, bare and crowded
with the dregs of the Paris population, from the
night when I last saw it, the night of her flight, when
bed-clothes still littered the door, and gloves and
little odds and ends of female finery told of recent
occupation! All was silent then with the stillness of
a coming storm; new the walls re-echo with a stir of
unhallowed feet, and the spring sunshine streams in
at the open window accompanied by whiffs from the
garden below, while a distant cry reaches us from the
street beyond of "Le Yawner," " Le Cri Is Peuple,"
"Lc dernier order du Comite do Saint Pattie," and we
detect curls of smoke about the Arch of Triumph,
which remind us that the bombardment still goes on.
A reflective sentry at the door of the cabinti de travail
begged me to remark the portraits set round above the
doors. "Those are the Empress's favourite ladies,"
he informed me; "are they not salopines, one would
say, of the period of Montt span ? And those were the
lanes who were models for the women of our land
no wonder that Paris should have become the Gomorrah
that it is!"
_ . _

In the evening the concert was given, and it
wonderful bear-garden the Imperial Palace presented.
Members of the Commune fitted about in red
draperies and tried to find room on the already
crowded benches for the struggling mob, who rubbed
their hot faces with their unaccustomed white gloves,
and used such language to each other as, it is to
be hoped, those august walls have seldom heard.
Meanwhile, the crowd increased in numbere, and by
eight o'clock the reception rooms were full, and some
2000, people still stood in a long string in the
garden outside. They behaved with the wondrous
good nature which characterises a French crowd,
laughing over the absurdity of their predicament
and waving the tickets, which they would never be
enabled to present, jestingly at one another. In
course of time the whole of the jardin fern: was full of
people who looked up at the lights streaming from the
windows, and sat about on chairs quietly smoking their
cigars and enjoying the lovely evening, listening to the
occasional boom at the other end of the long alley,
, where a bright flash which bore death upon its wings
appeared in the sky from time to time, in mockery of
the gas-lit chandeliers and feeble attempts at revelry
that were going on above our heads.

Six or seven week ago, William Bence, a boy
twelve years of age, reeiding in Liverpool, wee bitten by a
dog. The irdory appeared to be alight, and for the time ex-
cited little notice. On Tuesday lan, dangerous symptome
set in; medical advme was obtained, but the boy died of
hydrophobia on Wednesday night. At the Inquest the Jury
made a presentment to the effect that the chances of death
from this cense would be lessened by a rigid en! orcenteuf of
the dog Mu."