Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1897-05-04

| us, could not outnumber the tenants
Of this City of the Dead through
which we walked, 80 numberless
were the inhabitants OF this vast sepul-
chre. We cannot say that We In
tensely enjoyed the remainder Of this
journey, though We now had other COM
panions than the long buried dead, but
one thing we thororoughly did enjoy,
was to see daylight once more.
Probably not many Of you young stu
dents OF American history can tell where
Lafayette Is buried. II 1t Is as hard q
task TO tell It, as 1t Is to find It, we don't
want any part Of 1t, for the getting there
was enough for US, but we "got there
Just the same" The grave Is In little
cemetery called Cimetiere de Picpus,
and to reach II We must 60 through the
remotest, narrowest, dirtiest, smelliest,
street In Paris, where are stables and
mouldy things galore. At last we come
to a st. Augustine convent, an immense
plain white building. surrounded with
high walls, and at one entrance we ring
bell, and the door Is opened by an old
man. whose English Is about as bad as
our French; but We succeed In making
him understand that we want TO see the
"Tombeau de Lafayette. He then ad-
mits us-for no one Is ever allowed In
side those sacred walls except for that
purpose-and closes and locks the door,
and disappears, so we are solitary
prisoner in this enclosure, surrounded on
one side by high stone wall, on two
sides by the walls OF the convent, and
on the remaining side by the chapel
wherein Is conducted perpetual adora-
tion-some OF the nuns prostrating them
selves before the figure Of the Virgin all
the time, day and night. Not another
soul Ia to be seen, and the stiffness OF
death pervades the place.
We walk up and down, thinking at
each moment some one will come 10 con-
duct US 10 the desired goal, but no one
appears, and the stories we have heard
and read about girls being enticed into
these places and never seen or heard OF
again, crowd upon US, and we look In
vain for some means OF escape. AT
length two men appear carrying long
ropes, and come towards US, surely 10
bind and carry US Off! They halt short
distance away, when the old man who
admitted US, at last appears, and un-
locks big iron door and we step into
large garden, with stone wall around
IL so high that only the sky Is visible.
The men with the ropes are left behind,
and we breathe sigh Of relief, and fol-
low the guide through long walk In
the garden, where We meet Sister Dolo-
rosa Ia her long white robes OF the
cloister, walking up and down, saying
her prayers. aud when We walk by her,
close enough to brush the hem OF her
garment, she never takes her eyes from
her prayer-book. or Interrupts the move
ment of her lips, as she prays. THIS walk
of one hour, once or twice week, Is all
she ever sees OF the outside world, after
these bridal robes OF the church are dom
ned; and when she takes the veil even
this will be denied her, and the four
white walls of her cell will be all her eyes
will ever behold on this earth again.
Beautiful indcrd Is she, In her delicate
alsbaster beauty, and In imagini alton we
picture her as the young girl, who,
through duty to her parents who disap-
proved OF the lover whom she adored,
refused him, aud buried here her youth,
her beauty and her life, thinking II sin
To destroy thst which forevermore would
be but "A burden; but that release for
which she longs will soon be- hers, for
on her sad face Il written the story.
Al length we arrive NJ two more big
iron doors, which the guide unlocks, and
we are Ia II small graveyard. We walk
bet tween the graves TO the very remotest
corner; where are two black stone slabs,
living side by side, slightly raised from
the ground. On one Is the name OF La
fsyette, died MDCCCIV, with only this
inscription, "Reguiescat In pace" The
other Is the grave of his wife. A latter
ed American flag floats above his grave,
hich Ia supplied by the American visit
ors. Not flower or blade OF grass
was 10 be seen, so we dropped our bunch
OF violets on the lonely tomb, and de-
parted.
Our egress from this place was attend
ed With Ms much of thsnkfulness as that
from the Catacombs, and we even felt
like coDgratulating the inmates there,
for TO be- buried underneath the earth In
de lth, Is far preferable TO being buried
above the earth, in life.
The Cemetery Of Pere Lachaise, with
It's streets, avenues and squares, Is the
most famous burial place In France. Ii
Is difficult matter 10 describe these
French burial grounds. SHOW and dis
play seem TO be the most prominent ele-
ment in the construction OF the tombs or
monuments, which are made mostly In
the form of small houses, with grated
door revealing the interior, which con-
tains profuse quantities Of flowers, usu-
ally artificial, and many are large enough
10 have chairs, and table and shelves
on which are placed plctdres OF the de-
parted, and vases, and msny other Orna-
ments and trinkets belonging to the de-
ceased. Each monument Is usu lily dedi-
Gated to family. and the lot comprises
only the ground on which the temple Is
built, for IL the family is large, the
vaults are very, very deep, the bodies
being placed one above another.
Some Of the monumental designs
would, no doubt, look very uncanny to
you-for instance, two black arms COM
ing up through the cover of a tomb, or
four skulls surmounting the mausOleum,
and the form Of beautiful woman, ly-
ing on what resembles table, under
which Is the figure of n skeleton repre-
senting Death. reaching up to seize her.
The monuments are placed so near to-
gether that 1t Is difficult to get between
them, and at nearly every step we look
upon the tomb Of some poet, warrior,
orator or historian, some of them literal
| ly covered with these wreaths OF arti-
fcial flowers made of gorgeously colored
beads, which will stand the inclemency
of time and the elements. Among those
buried here is Cassiner Perier, and OF
the authors, Lafontaine and Edmond
About, Moliere, dramatist, Marshal Ney,
general, Theirs, statesman, Alfred de
Musset, poet, Paul Baudry, painter,
Rossini and Cherubini, composers; but
the first grave we seek, Is that Of Chopin,