The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1853-12-29
FOR the National Era
BELL SMITH ABROAD.
No. VIII.


No VIII
THE LUNGS OF PARIS
No city in the world has its population so
densely packed together as Paris Families
build and live one above the other, crowding
the towering houses above the narrow streets,
making these thoroughfares look as if they
were damned up, and OVERLOOKING the side
walks Such city, above all others requires
breathing places and such, Paris has TO the
hsn6somest extent What's contrast to our own,
where mean selhshness builds up every cOrnex,
where Nature is pared down and walled out"
ssud all he erannies by which freeh air can en-
Ter are carefully plastered over. ] sometimes
think that little despotism IL not such a very
bad thing | think so when ! see the poor
and much abused workmen, surrounded by
wives and children, enjoying the fresh air and
Heavens sunlight In gardens where all that
art can bring in statues, walks, fountains, and
terraces are theirs-and remember the suffo-
| eating filth Of New York and the suffering
| poor Of New York Yet d. tells me that the
expenses If the last are greater in proport on
than those Of Paris, and the taxation infinitely
heavier | see Louis Napoleon widening streets,
and adjoining gardens, all open to the people,
and wish. very heartily, that he could be En-
peror of New York and Cincinnati long enough
to knock down whole squares in each, and
open gardens for rich and poor alike.
If you could only walk with me here some
sunny afternoon, you would realize what tell
VOC We have our little rooms nearly ut the
top of a population, cannot say of how many,
and descending the winding grand stairway,
| receive the humble, delighted sautstion of the
| concierge and We are in the Place de la Made
| leins The afternoon is rare sunny, warm, and
/
rapidly nearing to the end of the season. One
voiture alone is on the stand, and the poor
horse Of this gives unmistakable evidences of
being Just off duty. Equipsge after equipage
flashes by from Rue Tronchet and you hear
the roar Of the Boulevards We turn down
Rue Royale towards Place de la Concorde, and
edge our way through the crowd that throng
the side walks, until we are at the place. and
here, wishing to cross the street, we must
pause for all Paris is rushing by on wheels,
into the Boulevard, that, stretching, like a
main artery, or great stream, up through
Paris, has its tributaries in the by-streets, al
leys and courts, which pour into it the crowds,
that gathering in mighty current, empties
itself into Place de la CoDcorde, aud spreads
upon the avenue of the Champ Elysees, and
far out into the Bots de BOulogne.
What study, to stand upon the side walks az
we'll as you are sble-for one is horribly knock.
ed and showed about--and look at the mad life
whirling by! How furiously they drive and
what a strange medley The gold and silver
family carriage of the wealthy bourgeois, clus-
tered all over with fa. lackeys in gaudy liver
les, is jo.tled against by the common voiture
hobbling along with the latest and coarsest of
drivers, and carrying n family OF blouses
| The subdued but arlstOcratic coach is passed
by an open remise, in which are students, with
their tasseled caps and never-to-be- forgotten
pipes. And so they al rattle by, for their
afternoons drive, in which they arc arrested
by no turnpkegates, aud choked up by no
dust for the WAYS are open to all, and free
from every nuisance.
A chance opening presents itself in COM
mon with fifty others, We start across the
street, and with numerous little runs and stops,
amid shouts Of "gare," We gain the opposite
side, and have space to breathe. We are in
Place de la Concorde, the wide open space be-
tween the Tuileries and Champs Elysees, and
bordering on the river. The spot where once
the guilloiine did its fearful work, but now or
namented with columns, statues, and fountains,
superbly paved with stone, and at the moment
bathed in sunlight, filled with merry citizens
and rafting carriages, one can scarcely realize
its fearful history We turn from the Place in
the Gardens Of the Tuileries, through beau
tful gate ornamented on each side by
what seems masses o! marble; but on closer
view of either, you make out q marble horse,
leaping, from some unknown reason, over q
huge, missbapen stump and upon the back of
which tremendously sits maiden who not
discomposed by horse or stump, blows dinner
horn
Here we are, in the Gardens of the Tuile-
I Al. ~ 4 IL
column of water, that losses its snowy name
| far up above the trees, in the centre of the
long avenue that leads to the palace Let me
cay here that when we do attempt anything
at home, we are not to be outdonc have seen
nothing here, in the way Of u fountain, that
can compare to that glorious ore Of the Park
in New York. There is one at Versailles
which makes slight approach, but il exhibits
bu. an hour every three months, and fails in
its resemblance, as did Paddy's account of the
Genesee, when coaxing US TO ride out in his hack,
and look at the falls" Jist Ike Niagara, yer
honors and ladies, barrin the water The next
object, and vet more striking, are the thousands
of children turned loose in this place. Here
they are the rosy faced merry hearted little
creatures How their tiny voices ring out in
laughter, as they roll their hoops, dance, or
tumble over each other! What q dear, deli
cious sight finer, as William Cory told me at
| Niagara than the great cataract, a. an object
| of interest in this world--tbe peoples gardens,
and the peoples children in them, at play.
| Perfectly at home, no restraint whatever, the
ouvrier smokes his pipe, with his wife upon
his arm, poorly clad but scrupulously clean
the bourgeois INDUCES 10 his cigar and jour
nal, while the exquisite works Of art--statues,
placed here and there-the greatest efforts Of
departed genius were safe in this familiarity
which would be 80 fatal See that crowd Of
boys, clambering upon the base of Orion, and
holding on and swinging round under his
huge legs expect almost to see them climb
upon the armed sentry, who solemnly paces to
and fro, intcrrupting no one, yet seeing all.
These children are generally in groups OF
| four or five, under the care OF one nurse, OF
bonns, a. she IL called, and from different lami-
lies, who are sent here IN pleasant weather for
exercise and air Such disposition Of tho little
ones seems strange, and hardly think On
American mother could be found TO consent to
such an arrangement. 1t il good for the chill
] dren, suppose but very bad for the parents
An instance connected with this disposal Of
the younger troubles came under my notice
lately that amused me greatly. Nannette,
the bonnie of an acquaintance, good natured,
chatty little woman, talking some English In
Q confused way, is in the habit Of visiting our
rooms, and helping us with advice on all sub
jects. One day, while rafting away, heard
o plaintve females voice in the court below
and going 10 the window, saw poor woman,
With three children playing round her, neatly
dressed, while a babe slept in her arms, and
shs piped away most dismally. Nannctte,
who had followed me to the window, suddenly
broke out in the most volublc French, in which
could only distinguish the iavorite epithets
Of brigsnd" "thiefo "pgD &c, and sud.
denly she ran out, and directly | SAW her at
taoking the poor woman most vehementy with
her tongue She ended by selling the three