Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1865-12-27
THE MYSTERIES OF PARIS.
BY EUGENE SUE.

wet, who IN this foul language is call
cd an Ogre, or woman of the samt
class an Ogresse, commonly keeps {
tavern of this kind, resorted to by the
refuse of the Partisan population
liberated galley-slaves, sharpers, rob
bers, and asaassins congregate there
If crime has been committed, the
police casts its net in this receptacle
Of filth and almost always the guilty
one is caught.
This opening will inform the read.
er that he is about to be spectator
Of sorrowful and dismal scenes. Ifhe
consents, we will penetrate into hor-
rible, unknown regions; frightful and
hideous figures swarm in these foul
alleys like reptiles in swamp. Ev-
cry one has read those admirable
works'in which Cooper, the American
Walter Scott has described the saw
age habits Of the Indians, their pictur-
esque and poetic language, and the
thousand artifces by which they fly
from or pursue their enemies. We
have often trembled for those colo
nists and inhabitants of cities, when
thinking that so near them lived or
roamed these barbarous tribes, whose
sanguinary habits remove them so far
from the pale of civilization. We are
about to place before our readers
some episodes of the lives of other
barbarians, as far removed from civ
ilization as the savage people sowell
described by Cooper; only the bar
barians of whom we speak live among
us, and around us; we can elbow
them five venture into the dens where
they assemble to plot murder androb-
berry, and to divide among themselves
the spoils of their victims.
These men have their own customs,
women and language a mysterious
language, crowded with wretched i'm
agery and disgusting m taphors of.
blood.
Like the savages, they generally
have names common among them
selves given to them either for their
energy, cruelty, or some physical de
formity.
We venture to describe with great T
diflidence some of the scenes of this +
story. In the first place, we fear we
shall be accused Of spreading out dis
gusting details; and even if this is
allowed, that we shall be incompetent
to the task Of giving a faithful, vigor-
GUS and bold description of the man
ners and customs Of these people.
In describing these scenes, we have
almost trembled, and have hardly es-
capped from a nervous trepidation we
will not say anxiety, for fear we may
be accused of ridiculous af1ectation.
In thinking that our readers might
participate in these feelings we have
had some doubts whether we ought to
persevere in our story; whether
such descriptions should be placed
before the public. We have had our
doubts; and without the very imperi-
Gus exigencies of the narrative, we
should regret having placed in such
horrible quarter the commencement
of our tale. We count a little, how
ever, on that curiosity which gloomy
drama is apt to produce; and, besides
we believe in the efficacy Of contrasts.
In this view of the case, it is perhaps
well to describe certain beings whose
sombre, energetic, and perhaps crude
characters, will serve as a set-off to
those of nature entirely different.
The ereader, thus informed of the ma
tnre of the excursion we intend to
make among the people of this infer
nal race, who fill our prisons and gal {
leys, and whose blood stains our scat
folds will perhaps follow US. Doubt
less this investigation will be new to
him, but we assure him that after he f;
puts his foot on the first round of the l
ladder, as he mounts, and as the tale
proceeds, the atmosphere will become
clearer and more pure.
Onthe 18th of December 1888, a s
cold and rainy evening, a man of ath-
letic form, wearing miserable blouse t
crossed the Pont au change andplung-
ed into the cite. a labyrinth of obscure,
crooked, and narrow streets, which '
extend from the Palais de Justice to {
Notre Dame.
The quarter or district of the Pal
ais de Justice, very circumscrlbed, I
and well watered, is, nevertheless, the '
asylum or resort of the rogues Of Par
is. Is it not strange, or, rather, Is
there not a fatality, an irresistible at S
traction thus drawing these criminals t
around the formidable tribunal which
condemns them to the prison, the gal
lev. or the scaffold. On this night
the wind blew in heavy gusts down 6
the narrow streets of this gloomy dis
trict, and the pale light of the sus-
pended lamps, shaken by the wind,
was reflected in the dark streams of 8
turbid water which flowed down the |
muddy streets. Wretched houses
with scarcely a window, and those of
wormeaten frames without any glass, t
dark, Notwithstanding alleys led to I
still darker-looking staircases, so |
steep that they could only be ascend
ed by the aid of ropes fastened to the t
damp walls by iron hooks; the lower |
stories of some of these houses were l
occupied by sellers of charcoal, tripe
men. or venders of impure meat; and
notwithstanding the little value of l
these commodities the windows of
these miserable shops were barred
with iron, so much did the owners
fear the bold robbers of this quarter.
The man of whom we have spoken
on entering the Rue aux Feves, sltua-
ted in the middle of the cite, slacken.
ed his pace considerably; he felt
L LIE a., HE N W N UrDuud. HE I