spot on which criminals were executed; and besides having been thus appropriated to scenes of horror, its pavement has been stained with the blood of the victims of almost every revolution that has occurred. On the 17th of March, 1848, it was the scene of a frightful mutiny in favour of the Provisional Government; and on the 16th of the following month an attempt to overturn that Government was foiled here by the steady attitude of the National Guard. I was desirous to visit the apartments in the Hôtel de Ville, and having, in reply to a written application in the form recommended by Galignani, obtained from the Prefect of the Seine the usual authority granted to strangers to do so, I got with it into an omnibus, in which I proceeded until the conducteur-who remembers everybody's wishes after pulling his string to apprise the coachman, told me, as soon as the vehicle had quite stopped, that I had reached the point of my destination; and accordingly, on descending I saw immediately before me the magnificent façade of the Hôtel de Ville, which formed one entire side of a large long paved space of no shape at all. In rumbling side-foremost through Paris in an omnibus, one is so constantly disturbed by an endless variety of little tantalizing peeps at objects passing and being passed; there enter and depart so many people whose costume and countenances urgently require a few moments' observation; there are such a variety of little jolts; and lastly, in crawling towards the door behind, one is so exceedingly anxious not to tread upon anybody's toes, sit in anybody's lap, or fall into anybody's arms, that after the vehicle had driven away I invariably found it desirable to give to the feathers of my mind a few minutes. to become smooth again. Instead, therefore, of walking straight to the Hôtel de Ville, for some minutes I stood still, exactly where, as an utter stranger, I had been dropped, amusing myself in looking at the merry little world upon which I had descended. Almost close beside me was a small crowd, composed of happy people of all ages, listening to a man singing. Before him. stood his wife, very attentively watching his mouth, and fiddling to it as it sang as follows:LE SOLDAT RÉPUBLICAIN.' Air-du "Retour en France." Avec ardeur je veux servir la France. 1 THE REPUBLICAN SOLDIER. Air-" The Return to France." With ardour I will serve France. Oh! dear parents, whose love I carry with me, VOL. II. K Con Consolez-vous du temps de mon absence, The rest of the open space was animated by an endless variety of objects. There were the red tufts, bright cap-plates, light-grey great-coats, and loose scarlet trousers of soldiers sauntering about everywhere, excepting at their guard-room, round which a large number stood swarming together like bees. There were blouses of dark and of light blue, beards of various shapes, women's caps, of various dimensions, two dogs of different breeds; different coloured carriages, and occasionally very gaudy carts, appeared, slowly passed, and then vanished. But what most attracted my attention was the extraordinary contrast between the magnificent façade of the Hôtel de Ville and the irregular architecture and colouring of the buildings which bounded the opposite sides of the odd-shaped 'Console yourselves during my absence, With pride shall I return to you some day. Will perhaps shine brightly on my breast. space before me. Not only were the houses of all sorts of forms, heights, and hues, but it was evident the inhabitants had been contending with each other in painting upon the outside walls of the strata at which they respectively lived, in bright colours, their names, their trades, pictures of pots and kettles, and sometimes full-length portraits of great heroes, &c. &c. For instance, I observed announced on one floor "Baths" in light blue; a "Café" (the whole house) in bright yellow; the lower stories of the "Commerce de Vins" in light-green; an omnibus establishment, bright scarlet; above that, in different colours, "Maison Poulin," "Bureau de Garçons Mds.;" a restaurateur, four stories high; a dentist, two stories. In another direction, at a considerable distance, "Mds. de Vin," in yellow; "Remplacements Militaires," in yellow on bright blue; above that a grand tableau of a charge of cavalry with drawn sabres, the leading dragoon in the act of cutting down a man who, with uplifted arms, is piteously begging him on no account to do so. On the top of all, on a wall painted jet black "A l'hôtel de ville 1 At the sign of the Hôtel de Ville-Dyer for mourning. the whole surmounted by different-shaped chimneys, some of the pots of which were red, some yellow, some of long grey zinc, purposely bent into various angular forms. After admiring for a few minutes the gaudy, gay, cheerful locality in which the 'bus had dropped me, I felt anxious to inform myself what it was called, but, instead of being gratified I almost shuddered when, in reply to my question, a clean, quiet, happy-looking woman at my side said to me, "Monsieur, c'est la Place de Grève." Never had I before witnessed what, with reference to its past history, might be more truly termed a painted sepulchre ! On entering the great portal of the Hôtel de Ville, the finest of the municipal buildings of Paris, the residence of the Préfet, and containing the various offices of his department, I found myself almost immediately lost in a complication of magnificent staircases, landingplaces, corridors enriched with gorgeous sculpture, ending in grand arterial and in very little venous passages. Not seeing any one, and not knowing how or where to proceed, I opened a door which happened to be on my right, entered, and I had only got as far in my simple history as "S'il vous plaît, Monsieur!"1 If you please, Sir! |