Middletown transcript., 1869-05-01
Notrs Of Irarrl.
RecOllectiOns of Paris.
Hratentor The Midd'etoun Transcript.
No. 10.

No. 10.
Who has not heard of the river Seine,
the suicidal ground, where many poor
Partisan has shuf1ed off the smortal coil
This river enters Paris shortly after hav-
ing received at Confaus the waters of
the river Marne. The two streams to-
gether make one of considerable size !;
but the beauty is spoiled by the fact that
it is imprisoned in walls and between
quays from Bercy to Passy. The rail-
road which encircles the city, cuts across
the Seine on a magnificent bridge, which
was built ten years ago, and named after
Napoleon Third. Then the river ripples
past Bercy, little suburb of Paris, where
all the wines from Champagne and Bur-
gundy are landed and placed in ware
houses, until the great capital below calls
them out for its supplies. Lower down it
flows under the famous Pont d Austerlitz,
the bridge which Napoleon First built in
memory of his victory over the Emperors
of Austria and Russia, at Austerltz, in
December, 1905. This bridge is profusely
decorated with ornaments, and on the side
are inscribed the names of the officers
slain at Austerlitz. 1t has been twice re-
built, and under the restoration there was
an attempt to change its name; but every
Partisan said &C No" A little below, the
canal Saint Martin, coming down from
Petite Vilette, empties into the Seine, and
the river begins to feel its bondage and
degradation, to be doomed to serve as
highway and sewer for Paris. Its waters
turn darkish color; here an enterprising
Frenchman has moored barge, made
like small mandatory, and is grinding
colors for artists, poisoning the current of
the Seine with the refuse he sends out
Still farther on the river detaches little
inlet, which, in hurrying back to rejoin
the main stream, forms the " island of
Saint Louis" enlarged, in the 18th cen
tury, by the union of two lesser islands,
lying east and west; the eastern, called
"Cows Island,' and the western, the isle
OF Notre Dame, because it originally be-
longed to the chapter Of that cathedral.
Ten miles away, on the other side, are
immense new streets, wonderful ware
houses and palaces, rapidly replacing the
rudeness Of the old centuries. Opposite
the old Hotel Dieu, is an immense new
hospital creeping up, brilliant in marble
and in limestone; by-and-by even the old
island, the antique source of all, will be
swept out of memory by the march of i'm
provements; here, where Caesar had his
two forts at the extremely of the bridges,
there are now wondrous piles of arehitec-
ture, frowning down ON the modern pc
riods when men believe so much more in
books than in stones.
Wo will not now linger at Notre Dame,
nor under the portals of the ancient Hotel
Dieu-that renowned hospital, where
Felpeau, Ciciale, Nclaton and other dis
tinguished surgeons have performed such
marvellous feats in surgery
We will not wander upon this old island,
which seems haunted by the ghosts of CEN
turtles; we will not linger on the bridges,
nor the curious high quays; we will only
now slip through this alley-way beneath
Notre Dances shade, pass through the
park at the back of the cathedral, and,
turning to the left, we will pause mo-
mcnt before the long. low, unromantic
building perchcd on the rivers very brink,
and facing the street with a double en-
trance. 1t stands close to the Pont St.
Louis, and from that bridge many human
life has cast itself away in despair, next
morning to be stretched on the leads in
the Mo'yoe, with its dripping garments
hung above its head, and the trickling
water daring decay to approach until the
Identification was complete.
One can hardly write of the Seine with
out describing the Morguc-the two are
inseparable. The Partisan nature is so
variable, nervous, unwilling to suffer mis-
cry of mind, that it easily rushes to sui
eide for relief, in hundred cases where
individuals Of another nation would shrink
away from death. The Seine, whose
banks they have lived on so long, is mute
and can give them no counsel; they
plunge in its depths to hide shame, or des-
pair. Then the boatman, who makes it
his task to row after oorpses, finds them
here and there, and drags them up from
the Shiny depths, and conveys them to
the lNorgue. Hundreds yearly are found,
and well is it known that hundreds also
drown themselves who are never found.
There is a tradMion that the boatmen do
not always do their duty in attempting to
save those who leap into the river, since,
ON account of the difficulties attendant on
the recovery of a corpse, the municipal
authorities award fifty francs for corpse,
placed in the Morgue, and twenty-five
francs for would-be suicide rescued alive,
Whether the boatmen have the heart to
let people drown before they fish them out
we do not know certain we are that some
of them have types of face which would
justify any grade of villainy.
Entering the front door of the 1Norgue,
one finds himself facing the dead ones at
once. They are ranged in ghastly row
there behind the glass partition, on iron
tables, with the water dripping, drop, by
drop, on their livid faces or swollen limbs,
and with strong piece of zinc firmly
weighing them down. There is always a
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