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THE
BURTON HOLMES
LECTURES
With Illustrations frow Photographs By the Ahfhnr
jaHOIM-T^'g^^OM
COMPLFTI- IV Tf \ \'rM TMIS
dD
V HIGAN
\ I PA NY, LIMITKD
^i i
THE
BURTON HOLMES
LECTURES
With Illustrations from Photographs By the Author
COMPLETE IN TEN VOLUMES VOL. II
BATTLE CREF.K, MICHIGAN
THE LITTLE- PRESTON COMPANY, LIMITED M C M I
Copyright 1901 BY F.. BURTON HOLMES
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ftPf
The "Edition Original " of The Burton Holmes Lectures
is Limited to One Thousand Sets.
The Registered Number of This Set is
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
ound
About
Paris
OF ALL European capitals perhaps Paris is the one best known to Americans. Every one has heani the saying that "good Americans when they die go to Paris, " but fewer have heard the flippant remark of one of our younger wits, that "the bad ones get there while they are alive ! " Who- ever celebrates the famous things of Paris cannot but rej)eat what has been said a thousand times in praise of her museums and her monuments, her treasures of art, her incomparable avenues, and her splendid decorative spaces. Therefore in our ramble about the city we shall not seek the cclebratetl
6
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
sites familiar even to those who have never been in Paris, but instead we shall turn aside from the imposing- thoroughfares into the byways of the cit}-. We pass the port- als of palaces and galleries to enter quaint cafes or ('(tbarcfs ; we are to seek, not the beautiful and the artis tic, but rather the queer
TOWARD THE OBELISK AND THE ARCH
and the eccentric feat- ures of the French metropolis.
Our starting-point shall be the Place dc la Concorde. The Place lies at the inter- section of the grand boulevards, Chanips- E I y s e c s , Rue de Ri- voli, and the {//((//s along the river. In the distance rises the Eif- fel T o w V V . Like a steel n c t- d 1 e , it pi crccs the
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
downy summer clouds, a frail connecting- link between earth and heaven, a ladder by which angels might descend to this earthly paradise. Who can resist the charm of Paris ? I confess that I cannot. To me it is a pleasure simply to be in Paris. I can sympathize with the feelings of Du Maurier's hero, "Little Billee, " with his joy at being "in the very midst of Paris, to live there, and learn there, as long as he liked." With every recurring visit, I find that, like him, I gaze on it with a sense of novelty, an in- terest and a pleas- ure for which I can find no ex- pression in words. Like Du Maurier, I, too, exclaim, "Paris, Paris, Paris ! The very name has been one to conjure with, whether we think of it as a mere sound on the lips and in the ear, or as a magical written or printed word for tlu^ eye." We may, it is true, look askance at the people as typified by the Parisians of the cafes and the boulevards ; we may be repelled by many sights and sounds, by many of the customs, habits, vices of the French ; but Paris, the city itself, is dear to us because of the subtle sympathetic charm which it possesses. The life of Paris is a continuous per- formance in which the actors, trained in comed\' and tarci'. are now and then tempted to make essay in tragic roles.
THE PLACE OF PEACE
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
.^miTfTW^
y ■ .-4
mnwm
• ♦*«
THE TERRACR OF THE TUILERIES
enacted here the Place of
But even in the tragedies of Paris there is always the dis- cordant note, an echo of the farce. What more appalHng spectacle than Paris grinning through the Reign of Terror, of its mobs laughing at the horrors upon this very stage now named Peace ! Who is not familiar with the features of this square ? Here is the silent Egyptian obelisk, a sister shaft to those which rise in New York, in Rome, and in London, — all three compelling our thoughts to that far-distant but inevitable day when the abandoned sites of cities now" great shall be as drear and silent as the sands which mark the place where in pride of life stood Luxor, t h o u - sands of years ago.
STRASBIKG
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
The boisterous fountains strive, vainly or successfully, accord- ing to our mood, to teach forgetfulness of the inevitable, and seem to sing that Paris, having been, will ever be. Around the squares, in statuesque impressiveness, sit the heroic figures representing eight great cities of the French Republic. With calm, almost contemptuous mien they look
FRANCE CANNOT FORGET
down on the pomp
and gaiety of the envied
capital. But Paris regards with indifference all
save one — the one that represents the captive sister, Stras-
burg. To her each year the \arious societies w liosc mission
it is to nurse the lusty patriotism of the I'ri'ncli, bring
mourning-wreaths and funeral-offerings, and with tlu'Sc deck
the monument in memoriam of tlie great loss of .Vlsace and
lO
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
Lorraine, in proof of the oft-voiced and bitter cry that France will not, cannot forget.
Frequently in early morning I crossed this square, bound for a cycling" spin in the Bois dc Boidoiiiic. No lumbering sprinkling-cart here turns to anger the joy of the blithesome cyclist, yet the Parisian substitute is quite as effective in ren- dering pavements slippery. An employe in uniform calmly promenades about the square, dragging in his wake what
\:.\\i 1 ^ SIR INK I.INC
appears to be a many-sectioned snake on roller- skates, a tubular reptile that writhes across the street laying the dust of Paris with its hissing breath and barring all wheel tral^c as effectually as if it were a wall of stone. The man in charge serenely transforms the perfect, cleanly pave- ment into a shallow lake ; cab horses sii]) and fall ; cyclists dismount in despair ; but still the sprinkler sprinkles, for the dust of Paris must be laid before the fashionable dining-hour.
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
13
A BOOKSTORE TWO MILES LONG
But
let us begin our wander- ings. Cross- ing the river, we loiter along the shaded q u a i . We have resolved that we are not here in Paris to visit one by one the things which Basdeker has marked with double stars in his red books — those useful little guides
which tourists feign to despise while knowing that they are invaluable. Rather are we here as returned travel- ers ; and, know- ing our Paris, we are at liberty to turn aside from the gra n d a ve- nues and the
WIIKKK Lll KKATIHK MKKS
H
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
,()ING TO KIKST COMMINION
famous monuments to seek other things, less beautiful per- haps, but also less familiar. We may spend delightful hours at the book-stalls on the quais where an outdoor bookshop, two miles or more in length, stretches from the Chamber of Deputies to the Church of Notre Dame. Many a youth in the course of daily wanderings along the quai, dipping in dusty tomes and thumbing portfolios of prints, has absorbed, almost unconsciously, a liberal education, paying for it no more than the idler pa}s for an aimless ramble. This is a
I.E MUSKK CI.UNV
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
15
public libran', not only free but most accessible, where he who \\alks may read. The dealers lease sections of the parapet at so much per metre. A second-hand book usually befiins its experience in the aristocratic hve-franc box ; then, as time passes and it is not sold, it begins a series of east- ward migrations, finding itself with each succeeding change of residence among volumes rated at more modest prices.
Wr43 ' '"^
* -
EVOLUTION OF A NEW AVENUE
At last the two-sous box is reached, the ultimate abiding- place of richly bound tomes on theology and by-gone history ; while Zola, Daudet, and De Maupassant rarely get below the two-franc box before their tattered yellow-paper covers attract some willing purchaser.
Old Paris now and then peers out upon its modern self on this historic left bank of the Seine. Nowhere does it more boldly show its noble, timeworn, restful face than in the narrow street where the structure raised by the old monks of Cluny welcomes the traveler to its open door. Within is
i6
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
a museum which tells of the past, of mediaeval times, or of antiquity. Upon this site the Romans built a palace sixteen centuries ago ; here, in the year 360, the Roman legionaries made an emperor of Julian ; here was the early seat of Prank- ish Monarchy, when Paris was but a walled island in the river, and the teeming Latin Quarter of to-day was a green country- side, its only houses being dwelling-places of monks and kings.
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
17
PREPARATIONS FOR THK l-KIE
While lingering here we may witness a pretty parade of innocence. Like a sweet passing vision of the days that were, a procession of little girls flit swiftly b}'. Their robes are as white as their souls, their veils are fluttering as softly as their little hearts, for to them this is the day of days, the day of the " First Communion. " Behind them two women, black-robed and serene, scarcely relieved against the high somber wall, are treading in shadow ; but where the white slippers of light-footed maidenhood touch the rough street, there the sunshine has turned all the pavement to gold.
From these peaceful side-streets, brooding places of the spirits of dead years and centuries, we may turn into w iil.r, bus\' streets, where Old Paris, like an ancient belle, striws by the aid of paint and ribbons to make herself look young again — with the same sad result that al\\a\s follows an attempt to masquerade before the world. Paris shows lur wrinkles in sj)ite of daubed fac^ades and the multi-ci 'loii-d
i8
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
IN THE SEWERS
under Napoleon III half a force. The condemnation musty buildings, and opening of fine new streets proceeds uninter- ruptedly. A few years more, and all the scars re- sulting from op- erations of this nature will be concealed behind long rows of uni- form apartment buildings with monotonous fa- 9ades and grace-
awnings. This tawdri- ness grates upon the senses of those who ex- pected to find all the streets of Paris as stately and refined in aspect as the Rue de la Paix and the Avomc dc V Opera. But the creation of elegant new avenues, pierced in grand, straight lines right through the labyrinth of the Paris of the olden times still goes on ; the demolishing fury let loose by Baron Haussmann century ago has not yet spent its of property, demolition of old
HARTHdl.Dr S LION
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
19
fill balconies. But the work of Paris is not always done for display. Far under- g^round, unseen, un- noted, vast schemes for the welfare of the city are beinf^' carried forward to comple- tion. Though the comparison may seem a profanation, a visit to the sewers of Paris has almost a Venetian charm. We glide in boats between dark walls ;
the air we breathe is not more heavy than that of the narrower waterways of Ven- ice ; the cool damp- ness and the mysteri- ous darkness of the place, the flare of torches, and the s o u n d of 11 o w i n g waters, help the im- agination to trans- form the tunnel-walls into foundations of old palaces. There are seven hundred miles of those dim
)S.Sli<)l S WAI 1 S
20
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
corridors, curving and meeting beneath the streets of Paris. Those swift, invisible canals, if connected end to end, would form a waterway so long that on it we could perform in the boats a journey as long as from the Palace of the Louvre by the Seine to the Doge's Palace by the Adriatic.
A visit to the sewers will suggest another and more grew- some subterranean excursion, — a visit to the Catacombs of Paris. Not far from the challenging presence of the noble
A SKA OK i;i)IBI.KS
lion of IJartholdi, a monument dedicated to the idea of National Defense, we find the gateway of an unseen city of the dead, vaster and more populous than any of the cata- combs of Italy. Originally limestone-quarries dating from the Roman days, these Catacombs received the bones disin- terred from old cemeteries in 1786. Then, when the Reign of Terror came, it hid the bodies of its victims in this same labyrinth of death. Later, by order of Najioleon, the bones and skulls of nameless thousands were arranged in orderly
KOINP AHOrr PARIS
enihunknients, so that to-day the visitor nia\ walk for miles between unbroken walls of human bones, between intermin- able triple rows of skulls bereft of lower jaws. We note that nt>t a few of the skulls exhibit exidences of a \iolent ileatii, a tiny bullet-hole or a crushed frontal bone. How many bodies have contributed to the building of these j^hastlv walls ? How man\' bon\' laces stare at him who traxerses all these windin>^ cm-ridors of death .' \\"e are told that these name-
■JVJ\J\,|\ \\ IV
AKIKR MARKKT-HOIRS
less ilead number at least four millions. The sleepin>; ju-ipu- lation of these labyrinthine quarries outnumbers, alnu^st t\\i> to one, the wakiui^ population of the uj-iiH^r city.
There is an interestini.^- quarter of Paris which is wide- awake, while all the rest oi the i^reat cit\- sleejis its soundest sleep, durins.; the small hours o\ tlu> morniui;. It is what Zola calls the " stomach of Pans, " the //(///<< ( '(///nt/rs. tile lari^est, liveliest market in the cit\. Phe \ast market- buildiui: has a t1oor area of u\ovc than twent\- acres, ami
24
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
THE ENTREPOT DE BERCY
through it run tive broad streets. Every morning in the year customers pay into the cash-drawers of the wholesale dealers about one hundred thousand dollars ; yet this is but a fraction of the daily food-bill of Paris, for the great city spends for food six hundred thousand dollars every day. Throughout the night and the early hours of the morning long rivers of produce, meat, and fish empty into the surrounding square, until at sunrise this sea of edibles overflows into the neigh- boring streets, and every inch of sidewalk and of pavement within a radius of half a mile is flooded four feet deep with garden-truck. Amid the waves of green the licensed porters, the famous " strong men " of the market, bearing baskets on their backs, navigate like ferry-boats between these isles of food and the retailers' wagons ranged like a row of docks around the shores of this gastronomic gulf. When the tide has reached its height, turned and ebbed away, influenced by moonlike gleams of big round silver coins, the bed of this
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
emptied gulf is strewn with rejected vegetables and worthless greens, a mass of refuse six inches deep and a half mile across. In an incredibly short space of time this disappears before the systematic advance of a well-drilled army of scav- engers, and when the merchants or the bankers come at nine or ten o'clock to open shop or office, they find the streets of the entire quarter as clean as if no market had been held. The transformation is complete ; the kitchen-garden becomes a dignified, well-ordered business thoroughfare. Two hours later, at dejeuner in one of those well-managed, inexpensive, excellent hotels of Paris, we see the eggs and chops and lettuce purchased by our steward at the Halles, served a la tithle (f /ioU\ the eggs disguised in dainty, Frenchy costumes, the cli()})s tri<-kc(l out witli spotless paper frills and ruffles,
AU BON MARCltl.
26
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
the lettuce dressed as only ;i Frenchman can dress it, the " all-together " perfectly delicious, thanks to the skill of one of those white-crowned and white-robed benefactors of the human race, a Paris chef. For who will deny the civilizing influence of the Paris chef, and who will dispute his right to bear, consistently, without shade of incongruity, the title " artist " ? As for the wine served free at luncheon and din- ner, it is good wine ; not costly, but so good in quality that no one thinks of asking for a better. Much of it comes from the E)itrcpot dc Berry, the principal reservoir for the drinkables of Paris. Curiously enough, in France we pay so much for a good dinner, and the wine is given us free of charge ; while in America we pay so much for a little glass of firewater, and the food is given us under the charitable title of "free lunch. " Turning from wet goods to dry goods, we find that in Paris " dry goods " on feminine lips translates itself ''An Bo)? MarrJief literally "At the Good Market,"
NO LACK OF CAliS
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
27
AVENUE DU BOIS DH BOULOGNE
more properly, tha place where things are sold "<7/^ bo)! marche,'' or at the lowest, fairest price. Because of the phenomenal development of the department-stores in our own cities the Bon Marche does not impress the American to-day as it did thirty years ago. But this is the original Big Store, the parent of our bigger stores, and therefore justly famous. Famous, too, because three generations of American mothers have spent there the hard-earned dollars of our fathers. For superhuman politeness, commend me to the clerks of this establishment. It is upon these poor unfor- tunates that nearly every one of our straw-hatted, shirt- waisted American girls, fearless of the consequences, essays her untried Gallic \'oc;d)ulary. Vet, with a face that spells attention and respect, the P^enchman listens, and when the inevitable hesitation comes, supplies the needed worti, tor
28
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
from long experience he knows precisely what the foreigner wishes to say.
The cabman of Paris is the traveler's best friend and his worst enemy. There is no lack of cabs in Paris. To be convinced of this attempt to cross the Champs-Elysees at the hour when the tide sets toward the Bois. It is war to the death between the innately stolid cabby and the pedes- trian, who (necessarily) is nimble. The fencing-master does
not ply his foil more skilfully than does the cabby with his shaft lunge at the breast of his sworn adversary, the man who does not ride but tries to walk, and when the cabby, like Cyrano, exclaims " /<' ^okc^h' ■' " l^is victim is — arrested on the charge of interfering with the "circulation" ! In earlier days a wise old law held the jehu responsible for such hurt as was inflicted by the front wheels of his vehicle, but if it were proved that the victim died under the hind wheels of the cab, the driver was accjuittcd of all blame.
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
31
The summer season is not the time to visit Paris if one cares to see the rank and fashion of the capital. The gor- geous pageant of well-appointed traps that may be witnessed here in May or early June has been succeeded by an endless river of cabs filled with delighted strangers ciohig' Paris to their hearts' content, and hired coaches with parties of Americans en route for Versailles or St. Cloud. No splendid turnouts, powdered lackeys, and gTcuic/rs (/u))ics ! They,
t^ii
SCHEMES FOR CATCHINT, SOCS
alas !
have for
the present left
this stage to play
their parts at Trouville or some other fashionable resort.
The annual foreign invasion has commenced. In 1870 the
Prussians captured Paris ; but the Americans have captured
and occupied it annually ever since. And ever\' company of
the invading army brings bicycles ; for the charms of cycling
life in the Bois de Boulogne have been sung throughout
America. The Bois is a paradise for cyclists. Certain a\ e-
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
OH, i.isii:n
nues are now reserved for them, and many cafes and restau- rants cater exclusively to those who ride the wheel. In Paris there are daily papers devoted to the interests of cycling, while the Touring Club, which every visiting lover of the wheel should join, is working wonders. This club is compelling railways to accept and carry wheels as baggage, and to provide proper racks for their safe transportation, simplifying the an- noying formalities at every Continental custom-house, forcing the proprietors of inns and hotels in the country towns to keep their houses clean and tit for visitors of a class that did not patronize them until the advent of the wheel brought back a semblance of the old post-road days. No c\clist touring on the perfect highways of the continent can afford to be with- out a card of membership in the Touring Club of France. It assures him a discount of from ten to twenty-lnc j)er cent
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
33
on almost everything he buys, from tire-tape to dinners at a village tabic d' hole. Ladies also may join the club, although the constitu- tional clause regarding them demands that every woman shall send in with her ap- plication the written consent of her hus- band or of her lawful guardian. There is a notable lack of ladies' drop-frame bicycles, for Parisiennes wear costumes that per- mit them to bestride the ordinary wheel. A wheeling-costume comprising a skirt would attract much attention, so generally has the knickerbocker been adopted by the French women. A visit to the Fair in the neighboring suburb of Xeuilly is a picturesque experience. The Avenue cle Neuilly is a
RELIKF FOR IHK FOOTSORE
)|R ri-;i-;M H
'\,
34
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
suburban pro- longation of the Chainps-Elysees. It is transformed every sum- mer into a Gallic "Midway," an interminable fair, a place of recrea- tion for the bourg'eoisic of Paris and the surrounding towns. Every imaginable de- vice for catching pennies is there in operation. The public at every turn is assailed by mountebanks, showmen, and peddlers, or tempted by the gingerbread, the waffles, or the cakes, of which vast quantities are daily consumed. Merry- go-rounds, roller-coasters, and automatic swings dispose the passerby to dizziness. The latest inventions of the day are here on exhibition, and the French pay a willing tribute to the inventive genius of the Yankee, listening with delight to the squeaking of the phonograph. W'e may stroll for almost two miles between unbroken ranks of side-shows, tiny cir- cuses and canvas theaters, tents or booths of fortune-tellers and clairvovants, and counters for the sale of food and
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
35
drink and merchandise of every conceixable \ariety. When footsore with much walkinj^, rehef may be had at modest cost. One franc entitles you to treatment by a "professor" of chiropody, who meantime lectures on your case to an interested if uncomprehending clinical audience. Business with him thrives best upon the eve of the National Fete of France, the 14th of July. You know
TOIRKI.I.K
36
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
\LLIC I VSIJ.N
how it is celebrated — with the feet — upon the pave of Paris. From morn till morn comes round again, all Paris dances in the street. Every precinct has its local gathering where music of the most atrocious kind is furnished. The passing cabs and busses do not interrupt the dancing, but
MOIJI-;i. TIIHATI'.KS
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
37
frequently dancers in the Latin Quarter will mob cab-drivers who attempt to force their way through the open-air ball- room. Sometimes a dozen men and women will seize the back of a \'ictoria, and jounce the occupants up and down so furiously that they are glad to turn about and try another street. In a comprehensive drive, during that festival night, to the many centers of celebration, we found the population dancing with equally evident enjoyment on the asphalt of broad avenues and the rough cobble-stones of narrow by-ways. The dancers were as various as the pavements. Paris has solved the problem of the bill-board nuisance, as she has solved innumerable municipal problems, artisti- cally and well. At frequent intervals along the better class of streets we find little " Toiirellcs,'''' or towers, the notices on which will tell us plainly all we wish to know about the plays and players on the local stage. The theaters being scattered far and wide, we lind in almost ever}^ quarter an agency for theater-tickets, a much bepostered institution. Of course a
CAKKS CHANTAN1S
38
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
premium is charged on tickets pur- chased through the agencies, but this is compensated for by the time and the cab-fare saved. In fact, an extra charge is made at the theater box- office if we desire to re- serve seats in advance. The "arm-chairs of the orchestra," as parquet seats are called, cost ten francs each, if we take them " (V/ location,"^ that is, if we engage them in ad- ance ; while if the seats be purchased on the evening of the play, THE SACRED HEART IN iSgo |.j^^ ^^x\z^t Is \\\\\Q francs \ but in this latter case we receive only a card of admission to the orches- tra, and are at the mercy of the old woman usher, who assigns to us such seats as ma}^ not have been ' ' lone, "rented," according to her will and to the size of the fee which we bestow upon her, ostensibly in payment for the programs. In selecting seats we refer, not to a diagram, but to a little model of the auditorium. Sometimes, as I have had good cause to know, seats, which in the model appear to stand out in bold relief, are found to be located in reality behind fat posts whence one may view the stage only at the cost of a stretched and twisted neck. In summer the Parisian theaters are insufferably stuffy, whence the ^reat popularity of those out-of-door temples of vaudeville, the ''Cafes CIi-diUdiIs'^ of the Champs-Elysees. The "Cafe of the .Vmbassadors " is perhaps the brightest of them all. At night these cafes glow like monster creations of pyrotechnic genius, the glare from countless gas-jets
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
39
giving to the trees an unreal, stagey look. Within, people are dining on covered balconies, or sipping cordials and coffee in the parquet chairs below, while on the stage inane buffoons and talentless soubrettes kill time and harmony, and kick until the one bright star of that dim constellation rises and Yvette Guilbert appears. She sings ; we listen, wondering at the art which can make poetry of that which is not lit for the ears of innocence. The native home of the Cafe Chantant is not the fashionable Champs-Elysees, but that
THK BI'TTK MONT MAK I K I
40
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
Bohemian height, the Butte Montmartre, which is crowned, inappropriately enough, by the grand new Cathedral of the Sacred Heart. When completed, that splendid edifice will be the most conspicuous object in Paris, the first structure on which the traveler's gaze will rest as he approaches the French capital. Five million dollars was the estimated cost. One milhon has been spent on the foundations, the body of this hill having been filled with a mass of cement, probably the largest such foundation in the world. Formerly the most important building on Montmartre was the Church of
St. Peter, an an-
cient pile of which a part dates from the earliest ages of Christianity in France . It has the aspect of a ruin, and its crum- bling walls would not long survive were it not for the addition of solid props and braces. The contrast be- tween the oldest and the newest church in Paris is accentuated by their proximity ; for the superb granite walls of the yet-unfinished Sacred Heart Ca- thedral rise not a
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
41
hundred feet distant from the sanctuary of St. Peter, which has looked down on Paris for seven hundred years and, itself unchanged, has witnessed all the marvelous transformations of that wonderfully change- ful city.
Far better known than its churches are the windmills of Montmartre, and they are nearly as ancient. The two weather-beaten mills near the summit are said to date back more than six hundred years. Their days of usefulness are past, and now with idle wings they beckon idle crowds to a gaudy dance-hall. Another the chirch of st. petkk
mill, a modern one, stands at the base of this historic hill.
It has achieved world-wide celeb- rity under the name of The Ked Mill or Lc Moulin Roiii>'c. It is one of the special landmarks of the American in Paris. He may look blankly at }OU when speaking of Miisi'c dc ( liDiy or of ( '(iDiiivitlcl , or v\ii\\ of the J\n///u'<>)/, but when you ask him if le has seen the Moulin Kou^c, he will rcpK', ' ' Wn\
SKI. I. INI". SACRKD SOI'VKM KS
42
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
bet 1 have ! " By day the famous ballroom serves as a cycling school, and those who have seen it only in the glare and whirl of night will scarcely recog- nize the place. Hither come every night scores of our compatriots, dig- nified family groups from our most eminentl}' re- spectable circles, and hang wonderingly on the periphery of circles which,
1 HK
to sav the least, could not sacred heart
IN 1900
be squared to transatlantic principles. But we , cannot find it in our hearts to low-countrymen be-
blame our fel- cause, being in
Paris, they pretend to do as the Parisians do, while all the time they are but looking on to see Jioz: it is done.
In the garden stands the grim old elephant, by day as huge and life- like as by night. The elephant is a hollow sham, hollow as the life led b}- the pleasure-seekers who nightly sit beneath his gaze. In fact, the elephant's interior furnished as an Oriental
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
43
theater, whence during the hours of the per- formance com(^ sounds which conjure up va^ue visions of the Midway at Chicago.
By night the Moulin Rouge glows like a vol- cano of evil. It red- the new gallettk dens the sky and steeps the surrounding streets in fire. Into the blazing door the laughing crowds are swept by the ruddx'
blast, for the mills of tlu- e\il gods grind with hope- less ra[)idity. A word of explanation is demanded b\- the illustration" show- ing the Moulin illumi- nated. It is taken from a })hotograph which was made at niiiht. Tlir \\iiiic
,\ HKII-./N I'dSTKK
• See tall-piece, p.ijje iia.
44
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
LE MOL'LIN ROUGE
doors of the Red Mill. In this very eccentric quarter are the curious cafes and cabarets, which have made the outer bou- levards famous. The " Cabaret des J^^iiat-z- Arts,'" the "Tavern of the Four Arts," exter- nally is not unlike an ordi- nary cafe. Here are the same round tables on the sidewalks, and the same type of irarc())i, whci from the rising- of the sun to the extinguishment of the gas is ever on th.:
rountl thing, like a chafing-dish in conflagration, is a carousel, its wooden horses circling round so fast that they left no impression on the plate. The lights upon the revolving wings traced those concentric circles in the air, and the curi- ous curved lines of light down in the street were traced by the twin lamps upon the countless cabs, which during the long expos- ure of the plate drove up to the
A MONSIKK Ol'' MDNIMARIKK
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
45
BALL-ROOM AT THE MOULIN ROUGE
alert to supply customers with coffee, absinthe, liquors, cigars, or the inexpensive bock. Within, however, we iind evidences of eccentricity in the mural decorations and the furniture. Sketches, water-colors, and posters adorn the lower portion of the walls ; above may be seen the fantastic creations of some painter more or less famous. A large room in the rear serves at night as a concert hall, where songs are sung and verses
Mil-. I'LAll-. Ill AM II
46
ROLNI) ABOUT PARIS
TAVERN OF
THE " FOIR ARTS "
recited by the musical and artistic celebrities of Montmartre, whose name, by the way, is legion, for there exist scores of these artistic taverns and every one boasts its corps of celeb- rities. These "geniuses" are curious types, ranging from the old-style long-haired Bohemian, with his flat-brimmed hat of "high form," to the more modern dandy in loud checks, straw hat, and monocle. The names of these cafes, cabarets, and restaurants are largely drawn from natural or unnatural his- tory. There is the " Red Mule, " the "Black Dog, ' ' the ' ' Elephants, and the "Dead Rat." One is called " Para- dise, " the decorations being all blue and \\hit(%
Till-: MCW IlIITi
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
47
with silver clouds. There, waiters robed in white with long blonde wigs and graceful angel-wings hooked to their backs, dispense an earthly nectar brewed from hops and malt. Next door to "Paradise" is "The Inferno," where red demons serve flat beer to suffering mortals. Across the way is the "Cafe of Death." It is called by the French '' Le Cabaret dii Ncant,''' "The Tavern of Nothingness." A green-glazed lantern over the door produces upon every face
ALX gUAT-Z-ARTS
a deathly pallor. The walls are hung in black, the waiters who welcome us in sepulchral tones are dressed exactly like the rroquc-niorls, or assistants of local undertakers, the tables at which we sit are coffins, the cups in which the wine is served are made from human bones, hollow skulls with slots in the cranium are used as receptacles for waiters' tips, and in the corner stands a new ])ine coffin, bearing tlu' (-lun- ful legend, " Lodgings to Let Immediate!}'! When a \isi- tor arrives, the waiters announce the coming of a corpse, and
48
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
then say to the astounded new arrival, " Brinj^^ in your bones and choose your coffin." And then follows the question, "What poison, M'sieu'?" Those who survive the shock of this reception are begged to look on the marvelous paint- ings round about them. The " Dream of the x\bsinthe- Drinker " is commended to our attention, and to our horror the drunkard is transformed into a horrid skeleton, round which is ^,,a^^^^^^^^^^- hovering the weird specter of "/r/ j^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ iMksc [ Vr/r, " who is the
' ' Green Goddess, ' ' the spirit of insanity-in- spiring absinthe. In turn every picture
THE DREAM
OK THE
ABSINTHE-DRINKKK
dergoes
room un- transfor- mation. Groups of gay dancers at the Moulin Rouge become mere fleshless packs of bones , portraits of local celebrities fade away, and give place to hide- ous forms for the
HEAVEN" A\n THAT OTHER PLACE
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
51
graveyard. In every possible and impossible way, death is solemnly suggested and then turned to ridi- cule. Overhead hangs a chande- lier that is unique in ghastliness. " This work of art, " announces the chief-mourner, "is composed of the bones of visiting cadavers who failed to fee the undertaker who deigned to serve them with the draughts of forgetfulness. " A placard on the wall announces that the funeral-tapers, brought with every glass, lighted and placed on the lid of the coffin at which the visitor is sitting, will cost us BEFORE two cents extra. Another placard requests
us in consideration of the rapid decomposition of our fleshly forms to pay for our refreshments on receiving them.
The assembled "" elus dc la Morf" are soon requested to proceed to the dungeon where, on a stage at the end of a dark and narrow corridor, W( see an erect, open coffin. An old man in monkish robes asks for a volunteer to make a journey beyond the grave, it being under- stood that a return trip is guaranteed. A willing one having presented himself, he is placed in the coffin, and a shroud is draped about him. Then, while the sad old monk plays gloomy dirges upon an organ, the visitor in the coffin is seen slowly to decompose, the shroud dissolves, the flesh dis- integrates, the very bones appear. For a moment the man retains a semblance of his former self, yet
5^
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
for a iiionieiit only ; for soon, to the horror of his relatives or his friends among tlie spectators, nothi]ig re- mains of him save his osseous frame. After a moment of suspense the man gradually re- covers all that he has lost — liesh, clothes, and shroud. The traveler returns in safety from the other
" AU CHAT NOIR "
world, but he brings no message, nor can he tell where he has been, nor how he went and came.
All this is curious enough, but it is very brutal, crude, and in- artistic ; therefore we turn with pleasure to another cabaret, in which, though origi- nality has been forced
THE CHIMNEV-IMKCIC HY (.RASSET
KULXD ABOUT PARIS
IHK I. AIR OF THE BLACK CAT
to the verge of the fantastic, there is a certain grace, an artistic quaintness that redeems it garity. Unfortunately, the " C/i((/ Ao/r/' the pure, original " Black Cat, " is now no more. Nine lives it ha other cats ; but what are n poor lives on this hilariou hill of Montmartre ? It lived and lost them all in a few brief years, — years first of prosperity, then of decline, curtailment, and disaster. The pla- card to the right of the entrance exclaims : "Pass- erby!— ^ pause ! Then explains that b}' the will
redeeming from vul-
S i m o n -
KODOI.I'lll-. SAI.IS AM) Till-: SIISSI-:
54
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
destiny this edifice is dedicated to Pleasure and the Muses, and concludes with the injunction : " Passer-by ! — be modern ! Another placard tells us that we may "be modern " at no greater expense than fifty centimes for a double bock of Munich beer, while for the hungry there is a table d'hote at "two-francs fifty; ' and blue posters tell of the most worthy entertainment offered in the Black Cat Theater.
Let us "be modern ; " let us enter.
By day the tavern is far less interesting" than by night, when we should lind the crowded tap-room resounding to the laughter and the songs of a Bohemian assembly. Wherever possible, feline motives have been introduced in the scheme of decoration : cats perch upon the mantel, cat-heads look down from every point of vantage ; on the walls are paint- ings representing myriads of cats ; the room, the house, the neighborhood, seem to mew and purr. In the depths of this quaint little paradise of Toms and Tabbies, we find the
A COZV CU
NKK Al THK CHAT NOIR
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
55
^1 iiinii-: r I los
father of this tribe of dusky cats. This unique asylum for stuffed or carved felines was born of the fantasy of an unsuccessful artist, Ro- dolphe Salis, who did not lon^" survive his nine-lived cabaret. Rodolphe Salis confesses frankly that, as he could not make his painting pay for his daily bread and
cheese, he resolved to become tavern-keeper and yet remain, at heart, an artist. The Chat Noir, as we see it, was the growth of his idea. At iirst a meetinj^-place for painters, men of letters, and musicians, who met to talk, recite their verse, and play their coTni)ositions, it soon attracted the great world of Paris — " /r lout rdris"' for hrre was some-
56
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
thing new, something unique. To mock the world, SaHs then dressed his waiters in the ornate garb of members of the French Academy, a conceit which greatly pleased his humble customers, those who had dreamed of fame, and had waked to find themselves — not on Olympus, but on the Butte Montmartre. It was Salis who crowned his loved Montmartre with his exclamation, "Montmartre, it is the Brain of the Universe ! ' ' The dainty shadow-plays of the Chat Noir were presented in a little theater near the roof.
nil-: KKAl II AINT Ol'- THK BLACK t AT
The auditorium, although not vast, will contain a hmulred or more. Between the acts of the shadow-pla}s, poets and singers, informally introduced by Salis, amused with their most Frenchy selections an appreciative crowd. The stage itself is only four or five feet wide ; a white linen screen is stretched in the proscenium, and on it are thrown from behind a series of tableaux in silhouette. The credit for these unique productions is due to Caran d 'Ache and Henri Riviere. They discovered the secret of perspective in sil- houette, and invented wonderfully clever mechanical devices and light-effects to heighten the interest of the performances.
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
57
111]. IKLK 1 KI-.IC <)1-' KOIil.NSON
Salis, the manager, acted the part of antique chorus, and striding up and down the aisle in a most extravagant fashion
WAITERS— IM MM \VI> II I III.KW IM'
58
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
recited in thunderinf:^" tones the story shadowed forth upon the screen. Or sometimes a sort of opera was given, the composer at the piano singing all the parts.
One of the favorite shadow-dramas is the " Epopee dc Napolto)! ' " in which scenes from the history of the great empeior are thrillingly presented, the '' grcDidc aruiec'^ defiles to the sound of stirring music, the shadow of the modern Ca:sar passes across the screen amid the tumultuous applause of those behind the scenes and those in front, bat- tles are fought and won to the accompaniment of a most realistic roar of nlusketr^■ and cannon, the flashes and smoke
1)1 NMK I--
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
59
IN THE CRLSOE TAVERN
bein^ plainly visible. And all these effects are produced by three or four clever men shut up in a box hardly bigj^^er than a Punch and Judy cabinet.
Behind the scenes we find a novel assortment of instru- ments. Above, at the right, is the lantern for projecting light upon the screen against which hangs a shadow scene representing the Crucifixion, for one of the nmsical plays presented is a Passion Play, ^'et the subject is treated so delicately and so reverently that we can forgive its presenta- tion even under auspices so incongruous as thost; of the C'hat Noir. The foregrounds are cut from plates of zinc, as are also the lifelike figures which are made to move and to art. A piano, an organ, drums, pistols, trumpets, whistles, and the voices of the artists in charge of the ligurrs funnsli the
6o
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
noise, while lightninj^ and cannon-discharges and great explo- sions are produced by numerous devices very curiously con- trived. The smoke of battle belches from a harmless cigarette.
Eccentric cafes and restaurants are not confined to Paris proper ; the suburban caterers to the gaiety of nations are
ciiKX M. \\ i:i;k?
awake to the value of an original idea expressed in such a way as to impress itself upon the jaded public mind. Around the legend of our childhood friend, Robinson Crusoe, a suburban village has grown up ; its name is Robinson ; its mission is to slake the thirst and satisfy the hunger of the gay Parisians. It cannot by any possibility be called a desert isle, rather is it an isle of plenty, an isle of mirth and music.
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
6i
floating amid a sea o country calm. Paris comes to Robinson to breath fresh air, eat wedding-break- fasts, sing, dance, dine in couples or in companies, and other- wise make m e r r y . There are in nunuM"-
able garden restaurants named after Robinson Crusoe or good Man b'riday, but we patroni/e the original " Restaurant of the 'Vvuc 'I'ree of Robuison, in which "true tree " three dininij-rooms arr hung bilwcrn tlu-
62
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
earth and sky amid cool leafy branches that, swaying in the breeze, perform the office of Oriental punkahs. Dumb- waiters, simple in design and operation, expedite the labors of waiters who are not dumb — least of all when disputes arise about the bill. Every time I saw one of the baskets swing upward to the hungry guests, I thought of far-off Thessaly where, curled in a net at the extremity of a long rope, I was hauled from the base of a gigantic cliff up to a Greek Monas- tery in the air more than two hundred feet above, and there received by the hungry monks of the wonderful Convents of
AI liCOLli.N
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
63
the Meteora. It is a far cry from the Parisian suburbs to the cHff-bound plains of Thessaly, but half the joy of travel is in the suggestion now and then waked, of something far away, dissimilar, yet in some vague mysterious way related in sensa-
" SUNSET RAYS ASLANT THE WOOD '
tion. To see Robinson at its best we should come on a Sun- day, when the village oversows with merry Bohemians from Paris, and the tree-tops are alive with students, models, and artists.
The artist-life in Paris is a subject rich in interest and beauty, a subject of which I hope some day to treat. Suf- fice it now to take a hasty peep into the studio of an artist whose work appeals to the traveler with peculiar force, for Edwin Lord Weeks is not only a paintiT, he is a traxi'liT, an explorer, and an enthusiastic .Mpinist. I If has rcwaU-d to
64
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
)iii;r ix'ui iiN
US in all the glory of its color and its sunshine the Indian and Persian East. Into Morocco he has traveled, the deserts and
Till'; iioMJC (>i- .Mii.i.]:i
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
Mil. LET AND ROSSEAU
-off islands of the world he brought near to us, the jblime terrors of the hij^her Alps he has expressed in (juick, vigorous strokes while finding a precari- ous foothold on icy pin- nacles. He may call one little room his studio, but his true studio is the wide world ; its height is narked by mountain-tops, breadth by Orient and Oc- cident. His home, in an aristo- cratic quarter of Paris, is such as a man of his tastes would naturally be supposed to have. Rare Oriental belongings brought together from the ends of the East give it an exotic atmosphere, while his pictures lead our imaginations into far-off lands, and hint at the intensely interesting life that he has led.
How different the life-work of another painter, into whose peaceful studio in the village of Ecouen I was one da\' introduced by an artist friend from Paris. His subjects, homely and commonplace, are treated with a feeling and a gentle art which make his pictures poems on canvas, pas- torals in frames. He has. it is true, wandered as far as England in search of peaceful landscapes, and in his fascinat- ing, broken English he becomes enthusiastic over the beauti- ful effects produced by ripples on the placid Thames, or. as he (luaintly j:)Uts it, by " ze little frizzles on /.v Tamise. When daws are tine, his little garden becomes a studio, his ))easant servants, models. The house and gardiMi ha\i- in their time belonged, first to ;i faxdrite of a king, tlu'n to a i)()ct, then to a niiisiciaii. Ilcic, tluii, has been tlic abode
66
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
of love, of poesy, and of music ; and now the master is a painter whose pictures are romantic and poetic, whose com- positions are color symphonies.
" Ah, }"ou should come here later, when my house is cov- ered with \\istaria blossoms ! " he exclaims ; " for then, then it is so sweet that it is like — what shall I say ? Ah ! — like living in ze pomade pot ! But come and see my village. Ecouen is beautiful. There are pictures everywhere."
IN THE lORKST OI' PONTAl M:HI.1:.\ I '
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
N 7HE TERRACE, BARHIZON
And, opening the garden gate, there is in truth a pic- ture— a lovely composition of sheep and shepherd, village lane and crumbling wall, and vague green boughs against a summer sky. Yes, Ecouen is beautiful ; happy the painter who thus can find inspiration at his very door. We wander through the town and out along a green-arched road where twilight overtakes us, the sun hrst throwing across our path, aslant the wood, bright rays of gold in warning that the day is done. Sweet days indeed are those of men whose mission is to be interpreters of beauty. Who would not l)e a ])ainter and (l\\(.,'ll in ([uiet Kcoucn, hxing its calm hu'cilinc'ss on can- vas, forgetful of the strife and jealousy of tlu- great roaring city — at peace with all the world and brst of all at peace with self, that ever-i)resent tyrant ?
I'^rom licouen to liarbi/on the distanci' may be long in miles, but it is short in spirit. In liarbi/on, upon thi' edge of the Fontaineblcau I*\)rcst, ha\c dwelt artists whosi' names
68
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
now stand tor all that is best and highest — - painters whom the world is proud to honor, now that all are dead and can- not know that the triumph of w h i c h they dreamed has been at last accorded them. While they lived, the world was blind, and in its own blindness mocked at genius, and drove these prophets of
llIK ( (>1 k 1 111- 1M|.; ADIKIX
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
69
AT FONTAINEBLEAU
true art, heartbroken, into poor men's graves. We cannot pass the house of Millet without feeling a pang at the
riiK i.oNc; (;ai.i.ii;v
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
injustice done to that great soul. The same world that refused him bread paid three quarters of a million francs for ' ' The Angelus ' ' only fifteen years after the death of him who painted it. Not far from his home in the forest that he loved so well, we find a memorial tablet set in the rocks of Fontainebleau as firmly as admiration for his genius is now
FON lAINIiBLEAr
set in the hearts of all men who think and feel. With Millet's memory, that of his sincere friend Rousseau will ever be associated ; and it is therefore fitting that the faces of Jean-Frangois Millet and Theodore Rousseau should together greet the wanderer here in this forest which was their world, the beauties of which both have immortalized on canvas. There is no lovelier forest in all France. Moreover, it is both forest and park. Within a grand circumference of
ROUXD ABOUT PARIS
73
fifty miles, lonj^ leajt^ues of road and pathway cross and recross, so that the traveler is constantly tempted to change his course, to explore mysterious forest aisles, or to lose himself in some delightful shady lab\riiith. Hotels, chalets or rustic cafes are found in every corner of the wood. The walker and the cvcler hnd in this wood trood
MUSEE AT FONTAlNEBl.EAl'
roads, good paths, good cheer ; the artist finds that which he seeks, peace, picturesqueness, and insjMration born of the thought that this gentle wilderness has been the nurse of genius. The traveler, too, finds that which he seeks — his- torical associations, housed in a palace that in sumptuousness is not surpassed by an\' otiier palace in the land. Kii'.;; Francis I built I-'ontamebleau in 1347. great Henry it Navarre coin])leted it. Louis Philippe and the Napoleoi:.s spent millions for its restoration. The course of the world s
74
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
COMPIEGNE
history has more than once been changed by acts performed upon the regal stage of Fontainebleau. The last recorded scene was perhaps the saddest and m most theatrical of all, N apol c on s farewell to the Old Guard in the "Court of the Adieux. "
1 Uit as we enter, thoughts of earlier centuries will at- tend us. We see
IN THE WOOD OF COMPIEGNE
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
75
WHEKl-. KIM.S AND EMPERORS HAVE DANCED
Kin^' Louis, the Magnificent, destroy the broad and noble work of Henry of Navarre by the pen-stroke which revoked
AN |;AS\ -L ll.MK A I LU.illll
76
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
the Edict of Nantes, plunged France into religious civil- war, and turned back many pages in the book of progress. As we pass from the long gallery into an apartment which is furnished, like all the rooms of Fontainebleau, with an artistic lavishness that gave no thought to cost, we see the figure of a captive Pope, the representative of a power to which emperors once did homage, held prisoner by a little man \\ho not a score of years before had been an obscure young soldier doing only petty military duty in a remote
village of his native Cor- bleau the sunset of Napo- than four months after the leon, in }onder palace, European ^^■orld. Here, burned scarce a
sica. And at Fontaine- leonic day began Less release of Pius VH, Napo- signed away his title to the
too, the afterglow which hundred davs
IlOIJ.l. UlC Xll.l.l.; Al COMPIKGNK
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
77
" RUINED CYLINDERS OF MASONRY "
lighted with its brief glare these palace walls ; for here Napoleon, returned from Elba, reviewed his faithful troops before he marched to triumph in his regained capital, and thence to black defeat at Waterloo. Another home of kings and emperors graces another forest region, that of Compiegne. The Chateau was a creation of Louis the Fifteenth, and later it became the favorite resort of Napoleon the Third. The forest is almost as beai that of Fontainebleau. palace of Compiegne is echo of the splendor of the older royal dwelling. Within we find bewil- dering suites of gor- geous rooms, corridors and festal halls, all of which still breathe an a t m (J s p h e r e of life. The many k i n g s ami (]ueens who have gracec
78
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
Fontainebleau are dead and gone ; but the last mistress of this imperial pile, Eugenie, Empress of the French, still lives. How strange the thought that she should be to-day among the living — a sad, proud woman, widowed, childless, still surviving, after thirty years, that gilded fabric of which she was for so many brilliant years the brightest ornament, that magical creation of the grandson of poor Josephine, the Empire of Napoleon the Third !
From Compiegne the traveler may tour on bicycle or in automobile through the forest, over perfect roads, to another great chateau, a restoration of a feudal castle, one of the most imposing structures in all France. But hrst, before we visit Pierrefonds, that we may better comprehend its mean- ing and history, we should diverge into the open country and ride on until there rise above us the ruined towers and the donjon-keep of Coucy. For Couc\'s ruined cylinders of masonry record an early chapter of French feudal history which should be learned before we read ^^^^^^
the peroration expressed in ^^^^^^Hr xr.
architectural periods upon the restored walls of Pierre- fonds,— walls that are elo- quent of feudal lavishness and splendor. In Coucy, feudal strength and warlike might are typihed. Built early in the thirteenth cen- tury by the king's great va.s- sal Enguerrand, the most formidable lord of P'rance, Coucy for many years defied the crown kself, and once
its master almost succeeded
I HI-: liiiNjiiN-ki-Hl' OK ^■()^^'^•
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
8i
in wresting the sceptre from the pious grasp of France s holy king, St. Louis. The motto of the lords of Coucy was a proud one, " King I am not, nor Prince, nor Duke, nor even Count ; I am the Lord of Coucy." And long after Coucy 's lords had ceased to be a menace to the monarchy, this mass- ive donjon-keep continued to defy the enemies of that great mediaval feudal system to which it had owed so many years of proud supremacy. By order of the king, Louis XIII, men came in 1652 charged to destroy this then abandoned and defenseless pile. But all their efforts were in vain ; their heaviest blasts of powder merely caused the tower to shrug its battlemented shoulders, and the outer walls, thirty-four
-msf^^smm^'
TURRHTS ANI> TOWKRS
82
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
feet thick, to crack into a pitying disdain. So the trovers went their \va\-, leav- ing old Coucy dismantled but triumphant in its in- destructibility.
Everything" is colos- sal in this fortress ; there is in it a rudeness and hugeness of construction which belittles the man of the present. The in- habitants of this feudal abode must have belonged to a of giants. After its fall lagers used this mass of masonry as a
A ROMANXE IN STDNK
tree quarry, and, with these stones heaped up in feud- al times to form this stronghold of oppression for the mighty war-lords, they built them- selves peaceful dwellings in the quiet streets of the neighboring vil- lages. The castle is now the pro- tected property of the nation, its last lord having been the ill-fated Prince
r-'Ei DAI. spi.i:ndi)k
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
AMID THK TURRETS
Philippe Egalite, the prince who
voted for the execution of King
Louis X\'I, and later met his
death upon the j^uillotine. -^
Havinj^- seen what time
and royal vandalism have
made of one mediaeval
stronghold, we may now
visit the Chateau of Pi-
errefonds and see what the genius of a modern
architect, backed hy Im- perial generosity, has hcen able to evolve frum the ruins
KKOM IHI-; i.ooK-orr t(i\vkk
84
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
of a castle which, like Coucy, dates from the feudal epoch. Above the calm, still, little town of Pierrefonds towers the magnificent chateau, as perfect, as imposing, as when half a thousand years ago, it stood a noble menace to the throne of France. It was late in the fourteenth centur}', in 1390. that the walls of Pierrefonds first loomed above this modest vil- lage. Louis of Orleans, builder of Pierrefonds, was a
r
♦jrF
\\ \l I s, I'MACIS, (Ml Kl IIKS, AM> TdWI K>
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
8;
brother of King Charles the Sixth, willed that his chateau hould be at the same time the most sumptuous resi- dence of his epoch and a fortress so constructed as to defy all possible at- tacks. That it could well do so we must grant as we gaze upward at its splendid towers. But no prince in those days was sure of his position unless, ke the builder of this pile, he possessed fortified abodes in many THE cAisEWAv TO THK ROCK placBS. Louis of Orlcaus therefore purchased the castle of Coucy, and thus became owner of the two finest specimens of feudal architecture m the whole land of France. And yet, in spite of all his towers, he at last fell victim to assassins hired b\' the
86
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
Duke of Burgundy. Then, after Pierrefonds had stood two centuries as an ideal expression of mediaeval dignity and power, Louis XIII ordered the destruction of this " Romance in Stone," fearing to leave intact so formidable a refuge for his enemies. It remained a shattered ruin until 1858, when Napoleon III began the amazing restoration that is now com- ^^^^^■^■^^^^^ pleted. As we step into the
splendid courtyard, we
shall
confess that it is indeed an amazing accomplishment, — this bringing into our modern century out of the vanished past one of the noblest of feudal structures, so huge, so formid- able, so truly typical of its distant half-forgotten age. The splendid halls, corridors, and chambers have been reproduced in all their impressive elegance of decoration and adornment. We cannot understand why Pierrefonds has been neglected by American travelers ; few ever find their way to it. Never for me has the reality of the past, its rudeness and its splendor been more vividlv made manifest than here at Pierrefonds.
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
<^7
Left for a moment alone in one of its vast halls, I felt m\self put back five hundred years. It seemed as if the castle had been deserted but temporarily by its inhabitants. It seemed as if at any moment the knights would come striding in, fresh from a battle or a tourne}-, talkinj^' in quaint old French of things now history, then only rumors of impending wars or whispered reports of bloody deeds which since have echoed down the centuries.
ARRIVAL AT THH ISLAND
Mounting to tlu' sunniiit of one of the lookout towers, and standing there amid the many turrets and pinnacles of restored Pierrefonds, we ask, to whom is due the credit for this miracle, this magical reconstruction of the castle ? To a man whose name is not so widely known as it should be, to a man whose life was devoted to the careful restoration ot the neglected reminders of the glorious past of P'rance, to a man who needs no momnnent other than the grand structures he has recreated to iuigcuc V'iolU't-lt-l )uc, the restorer ot
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
Notre Dame in Paris and of Pierrefonds, an architect to whom the world owes a great debt of gratitude. Thanks to his exhaustive study of the past, to his wise use of the five million francs furnished by the third Napoleon, Pierrefonds, after centuries of decay and neglect has risen from its ruins and has resumed its primitive appearance.
Another mediitval structure, one that rivals this chateau in picturesqueness and impressiveness, and at the same time surpasses it in architectural beauty, in the interest of his his- torical souvenirs, and, above all, in the strangeness of its sit- uation, is the Abbey of Mont Saint-Michel, which rises from its rocky islet in the waters of the Bay of Brittany Gazing seaward from the Norman coast, we behold a mighty rock crowned with monasteries, churches, palaces, and towers outlined against the evening sky. The upper extremity of
this bay is but a sort of estuary — a vast plain of sand, which every day is twice covered by the sea and twice by it aban- doned. The tides are phenomenal. On this bay at Granville a dif- erence between high and low water of over fifty feet is frequently recorded. The tides of March and Septem- ber have wiped out of existence many a sea- side farm. It is said that at times the sea rushes in across the
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
89
MAUA.MK I'OlLARt)
sands with such rapidity that the fleetest of horses could not outstrip the waves in the race for Hfe and safety. It has been proved that before this region be- came a part of the bay, it was a forest, extending far beyond Mont Saint-Michel to other islands, then only hills, which now lie far out from the shore. For cen- turies the northwest coast of France has been undergoing a gradual subsidence. Recently there was discovered at a depth of ten feet or so beneath these sands a portion of a paved roadway, as well as a human skull and
three skulls of a species of wild oxen, the aurochs, an animal which as early as the time of Cctsar had ceased to exist in occidental Gaul. Entire trees perfectly preserved have frequently been found. These facts prove the existence of the an- tique forest and the profound transfor- mations which this region has passed through. Only Mont Saint-Michel and a few minor islands have still survivetl, thanks to their rockv bases, l^^^om earli- est recorded time Mont Saint-Miclul has been siirmouiiti'd
90
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
by a fortress or a tem- ple. The Gauls there founded a school of druidesses, the Ro- mans there raised al- tars to the Almighty Jupiter, the Franks there consecrated the first Christian oratory. In 708 a holy man, St. Aubert, Bishop of Avranches, dedicated a modest chapel on the rock to the Arch- angel Michael, thus fixing for future ages the name of Mont Saint-Michel.
There is a legend of St. Michael and the Demon told by the people of lower Nor- mandy. St. Michael, to protect himself from the machina- tions of the Devil, built amid the waters this habitation worthy of an archangel. As a further precaution, he spread roundabout it miles of moving sands, far more perfidious than the sea. The Devil lived in a humble cottage on the shore, but possessed marvelously fertile lands. These the saint greatly coveted, for in spite of his fine home the latter was poor as a saint should be. One day he called upon his evil neighbor, saying, " I come to make you a proposition. " "Proceed," replies the Devil. "You love repose; I love hard work ; cede me all your lands. The labor shall be done by me, and you shall receive one half the harvest."
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91
Satan instantly ag^reed. The saint then offered to let his partner in this farming-enterprise, choose which half of the produce he would take — that which should rise above the soil or that which remained hidden in the fertile ground, and Satan chose the former. A few months later the vast domain brought forth a splendid crop of carrots, radishes, and beets. The Devil, according to the contract, was forced to content himself with the stalks and useless greens.
The next season the Devil, remembering how he had been outwitted, reversed his choice, saying that he would take the portion of the crop that remained hidden below the surface. But the Devil found himself in no better luck when the crop was harvested, for the wily saint this time planted grain, and gave the Father of Lies only the withered and useless roots.
The advantages of being a saint are ob- vious.
It is in a lumbering onmibus that travelers make the journey of ten kilometers from Pontorson, the rail- way terminus, to the portals of the island. A broad dike or cause- way half a mile in length curves seaward from s h ore . Com- paratively few Ameri- cans visit this most wonderful place, ,but
KVKR\THIN(i IS I I'SlAlkS
92
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
forty-five thousand European tourists come annually. Arriv- ing under the shadow of the grim fortifications, the omnibus is taken by assault by an army of Amazons from the hotels, even scaling ladders being brought into use by eager serving- maids. Of course we intend to patronize the " Hotel Pou- lard, " an establishment as famous as the Mount itself; but each servant shouts the name of a different Poulard ! — '' Pouldrd Aiin\'' '' Ponhtrd /c/o/r,''' or ''La ]\'i(ve Poulard : " for the entire Poulard tribe has gone to keeping inns upon the island. Thus it is in a state of doubt and uncertainty that we hasten through the gate into a narrow street, and there we are greeted by a smiling dame who in a sweet but authoritative voice remarks, " /r siiis Mnic. Pou- lard ; " and without question we accept her as the mistress of the <)rii>'i>i((l Hotel Poulard. She is unique, a landlady unparalleled in the annals of imikee))ing. I defy the world to produce a traveler who, liaving \isited the Mount, does
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
93
not carry away witli him or her ffor Madame Poulard is equally popular with those of her own sex), an enthusiastic admiration for the hostess. I wish that I could show the thousand charming expressions of her face, her smiles of greeting, her half-sad way of "speeding the parting guest. " Had all my snap-shots succeeded, you might have had to listen to a lecture on Mont Saint-Michel entirely illustrated with portraits of Madame Poulard. The Hotel Poulard is the dominating feature of the one and only thoroughfare, and that no one may be left in doubt, two sign-boards tell the arriving traveler that this is ' ' the place of the Renown of the Omelette, the Hotel of Poulard the Elder, " or, rather the nucleus of the hotel, for the establishment comprises many buildings, some in the narrow village street, some perched on the rocky slope a hundred feet above. Madame 's system -of management is unique. When after a sojourn of several days, I asked for the accounts of a party of three. Madam smiled and said, " Sit down and tell me what you have had.
94
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things ; my guests are always honest. " Naturally through fear of abusing the confi- dence of this trustful hostess we paid for extras that we had never had.
One hundred steps lead from the street to our apart- ments. But how interest- ing is the climb ! we have not time to think of the fa- tigue, for Madame herself accompanies the ladies, charming them into forget- fulness of their effort, short- ening, with many words of encouragement, the wearv
Let me see, four days — three peo- ple— that makes twelve dinners, twelve dej cu- llers, twelve early cups of coffee, — - what else, now, do you remember.'' I really have not time to bother about these little
M rm I Aki) FT SKs I'on.Krs
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95
way. Far below we see the village, and beyond, the great plain of shifting sand which within an hour will become a glittering expanse of sea. The Norman coast lies low along the horizon. At night this ascent to our abode is a fantastic experience, for every guest is furnished with a lighted paper lantern, and when these flickering lights are slowly moving- skyward, the scene suggests an evening picture in Japan. Upon the terrace every morning we are served with the
French "little breakfast, " a cup of coffee and a roll. Un- fortunately, luncheons and dinners are not served at this alti- tude, and twice a day we must make the toilsome journey to the lower town, or else be content to live on fresh air and lovely vistas.
From the terrace one could almost drop into the street below. We seem to be li\ing at one and the same time upon a mountain-top, on shipboard, and among the eliuids in a balloon. In fact, we are upon a mountain, the si'a is round- about us, and at times the clouds and mists oi Hrittany
96
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envelop us. At midday fiom the depths of the village there comes clanging up the precipice the sound of the luncheon- bell, announcing that all hands must now descend for d^Jcinicr. With a zeal like that of fervent pilgrims, we rush down to the modern shrine of Mont Saint-Michel, the Poulard kitchen, to witness the modern miracle, — the mak- ing of the omelette, performed by the patron saint of the isle, Madame Poulard. The open fireplace is the altar before which crowds of hungry tourists gather every day to watch with reverence and awe a high priestess of the culinary art, preparing with a skill born of long practice an omelette worthy the table of the gods. Upon this altar have been sacrificed in one day as many as seventy dozen eggs ; for Madame is tireless, and from eleven to one o'clock may be found gracefully turning out omelette after omelette, each
more perfect than the last, which was perfection. Of her omelettes I dare not attempt to "make the eulogy, " as the French would say ; they are the stand- ard omelettes of the universe. It has been asserted by some probably dyspeptic traveler that the famed "omelette" is nothing more than the " plain scram- bled eggs of com-
OVSTERS OF CANCM !■:
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
97
merce. ' ' Forty-five thousand annual omelette-eaters stand ready to brand this flippant statement as a malicious libel
But the fame of the Pou- lard r//is/)n' rests not only upon the delicious, unsub- stantial omelette, for behold before the hre are a dozen delicious chickens serenely turning on automatic spits They are dripping with a sa- vory gravy ; they are moist and juicy ; they are tender ; they are, in a word, worth\- to receive their browning in company with Madame Pou- ^"^"^ ^°^^-
lard s omelette. Success invites competition The words "Poulard " and "omelette " have long been synonyms for success. Behold hov/ they are repeated over and over by the signs that greet us as we stroll through the Kmg's Gateway into the little street First the "Hotel Poulard Junior " flaunts its sign high above our heads With com- mendable originality it proclaims the ' ' Renown of the Ome- lette Soufflee, " thereby honestly avoiding a direct claim on the "Renown of the old Original Omelette." Then comes the inn of J^a I'c/ivr Poulard, the Widow, whose place appears more modest and more picturescpie ; beyond the Widow's inn are others still more modest, where the peasant pilgrims are fed and lodged "at prices very moderate."
I dropped in one evening to try the Omelette Soufflee, and so greatly pleased was the family of Ptnilard junior to have a guest of //ir Poulard sit at their table that 1 was not allowed to ])ay a penny for the generous i)ortion
98
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of the fluffy delicacy of which I had partaken. Can I now do aught but praise it ?
The famous oysters of Can- cale are opened and sold at the village gate. The products of the sea are naturally the chief resources of the inhabitants. They catch fine salmon of ex- quisite flavor renowned along the coast, as well as floun- ders, soles, and shrimps. The family of a fisherman, wife, ^^^A ^ sons, and daughters, mean-
time devote the m selves to INI- viEiLLE gathering a species of bivalve
called the cog-iic, which at low tide they dig from the sand with their sturdy fingers. Thus everybody works at Mont Saint-Michel, and absolute poverty is unknown. Even the grandmothers never outlive their usefulness. We often see quamt ancient dames returning from a foray on the beach, having been far out across the wet unstable sands Long experience has taught the diggers to avoid the treacherous Uses , or quicksands, which have swallowed up so many uninitiated reamers. About one hundred years ago, when the beach was even less secure than it is to- day, a ship was stranded on it, and, being forsaken by the tide, it sank so quick!}' into the yielding mass that the tips of its masts were lost to view within
CLEAN SOLES
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99
twenty-four hours. In 17S0, as an experiment, a pxramidal block of stones, weighing only three hundred ]:)ounds, was placed upon the surface, and during the space of one night sank so far that the end of a forty-foot rope attached to it could not be found. W^ith a good guide I ventured to make the tour round the island at low tide. I found that it was not safe to stand too long in admiration of the rock, for constant walking is the price of remaining on the surface. In places the walking was decidedly wet.
— (^^■
A (;riI)H INDISPENSABLK
and I found the guide indispensable. He would (^arr\" me (jn his back over the dampest places, and then return to rescue the camera. The legs of the tripod would mean- time have settled into the sand to a depth of two or three feet. The line of the seaward horizon is broken b\- the Isle of Tombelaine, a miniature Saint-Michel, but now forsaken by all, its monasteries and chapels having long since disaj)peared. Re-entering the village we secure the portraits of a pit^tur- esque pair, a peasant woman and her little girl, tiie latter dressed as sobi'rK' as if she boasted sixty years instead of six. Both wear the neat white caps charaett'ristie ol this rcL^ioii,
lOO
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one cap being of wonderful design, — a design which might well be adopted for theater-wear ; for while the hat is not restricted as to size, it has two loopholes admirably adapted for observation of the stage. Just be- side the wall in the illus- tration are situated the two old cannon known as the " jSIichelettes, " left on the beach by the English host of twenty thousand, which attacked the Mount in 1434, but was driven back to shore by the six score of valiant Gallic knights into whose charge the abbey and the fortress had been confided by the monks.
THRKK KINDS
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lOI
These historic cannon called ' ' bombards, ' ' which now lie useless in the village street, were among the first ever fired in European warfare. The Artillery Museum of Paris has made strenuous but unsuccessful efforts to secure these relics. In the unitjue street leading from the King's Gate up to the Abbey are crowded the little houses which shelter a popula- tion of about two hundred, in-
MEDI.EVAL MASONRY
eluding fishermen, innkeepers, and dealers in souvenirs both sacred and profane. In this street the valiant warrior Bertrand du Guesclin and his beautiful spouse once made their abode.
Steeper and steeper becomes tlu^ way as we adxance, bringing us tinalK' to tin- tliirti'i'iitli-ccnt ur\' ranii)arts just at the moment of the inrushing of the mighty tide. Swiftly, resistlessly, the blue waters gain on the yellow sands ; foot by foot, yard l)\' yard, the delicatr liuf of foam advances
I02
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
thf: causeway and ihk ki\er
landward, and before we turn away, Mont Saint-Michel has been encircled by the flood, has for the nonce become a verit- able island The inflow of the tide is more exciting on the western side where the diked channel of a river-mouth be- comes an avenue for the advance of a deeper mass of water rushing in from the distant ocean with the swiftness of a mill-
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race, long before the surrounding sandy plain has been reached by the broader, shallower wave which overspreads the sandy beaches. The lishing-boats, borne inward by the rush of waters, come careering up the river, which shortly overliows its dike and pours its tiood upon the beach. Be- fore the river outlet had been defined by these embankments, it frequently changed its course, flowing at one season to the
AT Ull.H iiui-;
east, at another to the west of the rock. Thus Mont Saint- Michel, which once upon a time was part of Brittanw is now within the limits of the Norman province. And \\c\\ may Normandy be proud of this splendid acquisition. As some one has said, "Man and nature have worked in concert to produce this wonder in piled-uj) rock and carven stone. Tlu' Mount i)ro\rs by its appearance its history in adventure ; it has the grim, grave, battered look that comes only to feat- ures whether of rock or of more jilastic mold that ha\e been
I04
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
carved by the rough handhng of experience." As we may plainly observe, the influence of the military life on the re- ligious made itself felt in this monastic architecture of the thirteenth century. The constructions reared by the abbots of that epoch show forth their political state. Having become feudal lords, they took on all the pomp and circumstances of such. It was in the fifteenth century that Mont Saint- Michel attained the zenith of its grandeur. The Abbots then possessed not only the little islands close at hand but even
KIM, (.,KA\i:, AM) HAI |[ KKD
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
lO:
'■ r.\R\HD BY tup; KOIGH handling of EXPKRIKNCli"
extended their jurisdiction to what arc now the Enj^Iish possessions of Jersey and of Guernsey. The al)be\- was fn- quently at war with tht^ i'2n,i;hsh, who were at one time mas- ters of all the rest of Normandy. Hut Mont Saim-Miidu'l was never captured by the Anglo-Saxons even durinj.; the lon.i; war of the Hundred Years. As we mount hij^her, we ap- proach the buildin;; known as '' Ja( Mcrvcillc,'' "The
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ROUND ABOUT PARIS
Marvel, " which has been pronounced the "most aston- ishing structure in the world. " It dates from the first decades of the twelfth century. It is a series of buildings superposed rather than a single edifice, yet it is but a part of the abbey , tha palace of the abbots, the Gothic cathedral far above, and innumerable connecting structures form an ensemble at once confusing, beautiful, and grand.
INI KK.MINAIil.K 11.1c, II IS () 1- SIKI'S
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
lo;
AN ANGl.U OK Tllli ABUEY
Among the guests who have been entertained by the rehgious guardians of the Abbey we read the names of Childe- bert the Second, Charlemagne, Saint Louis, Louis the Elev- enth (who was not a saint), and Francis the First. Hun- dreds of the prisoners filled the dungeons of the rock during the reigns of Louis the Fourteenth and of Louis the Fifteenth ; then the prisoners of the Revolution, among them the three hundred priests who had refused to taki' tlu- ci\ic oath. These times witnessed the desecration of tlie Abbex , the
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mutilation of its carv- ings, the destruction of its splendid win- dows, the obstruction of its m a g n i fi c e n t apartments by crude partitions Only in 1874 was the splendid renmant confided to the Commission of Historic Monuments to assure its preserva- tion.
Small wonder that the Mount was never taken by the English, for in those davs the
THE HOISTING-WHEEL
art of defense was developed far beyond that of attack. Five score of men could hold a medieval stronghold against an army of as many thousands. Treason alone could prevail against a fortress such as this. Yet even treason * failed here, the traitor losing heart and confessing his crime before his clever plan for admitting the enemy had been put in execu- ^ tion. It was in 1591. An inmate of the Abbey, Goupigny, by nariu, agreed with the Lord Montgomery, a leader of the Protestants, to assure the secret introduction of a band of armed men under the command of the
IN DAYS OK 01
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109
VVHKRK THE ABBOTS TKIJIJ
latter These men were to be drawn, up the perpen- dicular cliff by means of the great windlass and ropes
A CT.OISll-.R AMID 1M1-. ll.olli
I lO
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AN OBJECT-LESSON IN HISTORY
used for hoisting supplies, provisions, and ammunition from the shore to this high-perched citadel. But, as the chron- icler tells us, God did not permit this thing to be done. Goupigny confessed his plan ; and when one night, accord- ing to agreement, Montgomery and two hundred men ap- peared at the base of the sea-girt cliffs, the double traitor gave the signal that all was well ; the Protestant soldiers, in little companies of eight or ten, were silently hauled up by means of the great wheel and its stout ropes ; but as each squad with breathless eagerness crept into the dark corridors to await the coming of the remainder of the force, the Ab- bey's knights and monks fell on them furiously and killed them, sparing none until the officer below, alarmed b}' the unlooked-for tumult, refused to send up more men until assured that all was well. At this the governor bade his knights spare one of the Protestants, who was offered life and liberty if he would shout the words of betrayal to those below. But, being a true man and faithful, the tempted soldier shouted instead a warning to his comrades. This act of courage touched the governor's heart, and he who would
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1 1 1
not even for life betray his friends was pardoned, while those whose lives he had so nobly saved fled from the island, their hearts bleedin<i- for the four-score of their companions left dead in the dungeons of the Abbe}-. We are shown the might}' hoisting-wheel itself, hung in a window of the Abbey cellar, — a cellar which is hundreds of feet abo\e the garrets of the village houses. The wheel was turned b}' gangs of prisoners shut up in it as in a giant treadmill.
The Abbey as an architectural monument defies descrip- tion. Lacking ground space, the builders of this Wonder in Masonry piled their churches, cloisters, dormitories, and almonaries one upon another, thus creating a mountain of sculptured stone unique among the religious edifices of the world. The cloister is of surprising daintiness in contrast to the somber heaviness of the interiors on the floors below. All is grace and lightness, elegance and beauty, combined with strength and durability. The variety of sculptured design is astonishing ; there is no repetition, no monotony. The columns are arranged in groups of three, thus giving great stability while retaining the delicacy of the colonnade.
ADlKr, MONT SAINT-MICHKl. !
I 12
ROUND ABOUT PARIS
one of the Hnest specimens of claustral construction in the world. It is indeed worthy to be classed among the marvels of the world, this unique pile of architectural glories. And France, at last awake to the value of this proud old pile, has already undertaken not only to preserve, but to restore it, to make it as magnificent as when its abbots ruled like feudal lords. The outer ramparts, portions of which have fallen under the weight of ages, are to be rebuilt ; the tur- rets topped, as of yore, with peaked roofs; — and all the parapets and battlements are to be raised again. In a word, Mont Saint-Michel, like Pierrefonds, is to be made a glorious object-lesson in French history — another proof that Paris is )iot all of France.
Yet gladly we shall now return to Paris ; for while the nation with care and forethought is restoring these mediaeval monuments, Paris the capital is rearing the gorgeous modern palaces of the Exposition Universelle, which is to mark the close of the glorious and never-to-be-forgotten nineteenth century.
THK PLAC1-; Bi.ANcin; \'.\ .M(;Hr
PARIS EXPOSITION I
he Paris Exposition
To SAY that we do not care for expositions is to confess that we are not interested in our fellow-men. Great expositions represent the labor and the thong'ht of countless workers in every branch of human art and industry. Great expositions are like mile-stones, marking the accom{ilished stages along the highroad of Universal Progress.
The greatest exposition of the nineteenth century was the World's ("oluinhian Mxjxisition of 1893.
I)Ut since Ghicago reared, amid thi' smokr and din ot toil, that mar\'elous White Cit\' of imperishable memory,
ii6
PARIS EXPOSITION
the world has added seven years to its long- life ; seven mod- ern years worth seven mediaeval centuries.
The Universal Exposition of 1900, held in Paris, was a worthy manifestation of these seven years of progress.
It was magnificent. It was so vast that a hundred days did not suffice for the mere scc/?/£>' of it. Even in the space of an entire summer, it was not possible for one to study
and to assimilate all that
years of toil and cen-
How, then, attempt
brief lectures, how save
had been produced by tuiies of evolution, to tell of it in two with the assistance of
IHK PORT!-: MOMMlsNl Al !■;
PARIS EXPOSITION
I I
PLACE DK LA CONCORUK
pictures which speak more quickly, more compactly, and more comprehensively than the tongue ?
The Place de la Concorde shall be our starting-point. From the terrace of the Garden of the Tuileries we look down on the square and note an unfamiliar aspect and an
THK WOKKKKS
Hi
PARIS EXPOSITION
;KNHS oh 1 HE El.EClklC LU,H I
unfainiliar feature. Apparently, long ropes of pearls hang in festoons from lamp to lamp, as if this beautiful public place had donned a festal necklace and assumed a fantastic crown of gold and purple. The pearls are gas lamps, the crown is the great portal to the Exposition, the Monumental Gate, novel in conception, gracefully graceless, and harmoniously out of architectural tune. Conspicuously soaring above this spacious i)arallelogram, it was the object of no end of tlip-
criticism. The Frenchmen described t in warm terms, calling it a '' Sahi- ii/(n/(/rcS' trom its resemblance to a l)eculiar form of Continental stove. \n English artist on beholding it, exclaimed, "Designed undoubt- edly to keep away the British ])ub- lic." liven Gallic gallantry failed to respect the unhappy lady perched pon the stove-lid. Her sculptor
THK niM-;i romAi,, from nil. i!i.;ii>i.i-;
PARIS EXPOSITION
119
THE PURPLE GATE AT NKiH I
called her the typical Parisienne, welcoming' the nations of the world. Her fellow-citizens disowned her, as unani- mously as Chicago repudiated her " Christopher Columbus " on the Lake Front Park. But this monumental gate is in many of its details admirable. On either side are sections of a frieze in high relief, showing the workers of the world bringing to this universal competitive display the fruits of their industr}' and stud\'. They press forward even more eagerly than the crowds who come to see and judge their
tmrzrTTmrTTf^iKiiHPsji
nil-, <.i-:kman invaskin
I20
PARIS EXPOSITION
" VOS TICKETS, MESSIEI'RS!"
products, for the visitors' at- tention is diverted at everv step by some boldly novel detail or design. Unearthly goddesses, robed like Rider Haggard's "She," pose in two niches as the spirits of Electric Power and Electric Light. The tiny blue dots on the walls and panels, arches and minarets, are incandes- cent lamps, which at night soften the outlines of this weird creation with purple luminosity. Seen from the bridge, its royal glow re- flected in the shadowy Seine, the "Porte Monumentale " vindicates its architect. It wakes not only our astonishment but our delight and admiration. Though it is fantastic, as the entrance to an ephemeral wonder city should be, it is fantastic in a hitherto un- known way. As an attempt to give the old world some- thing new, it is courageous, successful, and unique, and the Parisienne enthroned high above is, like a true Parisi- enne, much more attractive in the evening light. We should not be too hard upon Moreau-\'authier, the sculj)- tor, who molded her, be- cause he irowned her badlv.
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3 vlJ^^B ^ |
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Eii^^^^Bir^^^^^^^l |
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■i |
IICKKr TAKERS
PARIS EXPOSITION
123
French sculptors are working in an unfamiliar, uncon.e^enial field when they attempt to clothe the human form divine Among the thousands of plastic beauties assembled at the Exposition, the lady at the gate is the only one who came provided with a trousseau. Let those who disapprove the tendencies of Gallic sculpture, respectfully salute her ere they approach the entrance wickets, which are designed to filter sixt\' thousand visitors in sixt\' minutes. To facili-
lU'VINC. ADMISSION TICKETS
tate the ingoing of the crowds every provision has been made, save one — there is not a ticket-office an\ where in sight. The stranger, unfamiliar with the language, offers in vain all kinds of money to the gatemen. The\- will not take his money, but demand " Ticket, ))n))/s/cu)\" and monsieur, unable to buy or find the necessary "ticket," begins to wonder how he is expected to break into the Expo- tion ; and in search of information he wanders aimlessly away. He soon hears a familiar ]7hrase, " Tirkul, n/on- siciO'? " but this tiiiu' the inflection is that of a sui)phrati()n.
124
PARIS EXPOSITION
Hl.OCKKD !
not that of a command. He sees a woman with a baby and a tired look — sometimes an old woman, or a ragged boy, sometimes a pinched old man, offering sheets of pale blue coupons to every passer-by, with a " J^os //c/cc/s, /f/css/c/ns, ))icsda))ics ? ' "How much?" the stranger asks, and the price depends upon the stranger's accent. If he says '' ro))i-brc-(n/if', ' there's no telling what price he may have to pay. The nominal \'alue of a ticket is one franc, or twenty cents, but though the price fluctuates from day to day, it never touches par. We pay on sunny Sundays about fifteen cents, and on somber Saturdays tickets go beg- ging at from live to seven cents. Late in the season the price fell even lower, and on the closing evening tickets could be had in any quantity at one centime each — five tickets for one cent Hut as we turn into the Champs-Elysees, to seek another and more hospitable portal to the Exposition, let me explain that this loss does not fall ujion the Exposition com-
PARIS EXPOSITION
12;
pany, but on the financial institutions and private individuals who bought the bonds to which coupons exchangeable for tickets were attached. In 1896 the Exposition issued bonds to the value of sixty-six million francs. Each bond, of which the par-value was twenty francs, entitled its bearer to twenty admission tickets, the right to a twenty-five per cent
- ^1*W
THE CHAMPS-EI,^■SEES GATE
reduction in the entrance fee to every sideshow or attraction within the gates, reduced railway fares to and from Paris, and a chance of winning half a million francs in the Expo sition lottery. Thus the Exposition realized its gate receipts and flooded the market witii millions of admission tickets several years before the gates were built ; for with these temptations and advantages attached, it is safe to assume that bonds were purcliased by every lo\'al b^rencliiiian : that,
128
PARIS EXPOSITION
THI-; CHAMPS-Kl ^M.I
should we search the multitude caught in one of the block- ades here on the Champs-Elysees, we should find in the pocket of every cabman and every passenger an Exposition bond and a bundle of tickets. Thus, with intending visitors supplied with more tickets than they need, and millions of tickets in the possession of the banks and speculators, it is not strange that there should be fluctuations in the market price.
GRAND PALAIS I.KS BEAUX-ARTS
PARIS EXPOSITION
129
MjK I 11 \\ 1
K.\M> !• \I.AIS
At last, provided with a coupon, the stranger approaches the Champs-Elysees gate only again to be refused admission. " But why ? " he asks, in des- peration. " Here is a ticket. Why can t I get in ? ' ' The gateman's answer is that ir is now only half-past nine. " Well, what of that ? " the baffled visitor demands, only to learn that from the open- ing hour until 10 a. in. two tickets are required for admis- sion. From ten o'clock till dusk one ticket suffices. In the evening the rate is again doubled, and on Fridays, the nights reserved for the aristo- cratic public, four tickets are demanded. Until these de- tails have been grasped, the stranger will have trouble at
A I'KAl.MI-Nl l>l- IHI- lAl AOK
I ^o
PARIS EXPOSITION
the gates. Let us, then, buy a ream of tickets, to be prepared for a 1 1 emergencies, and before long we shall once more at- tempt to pass the ticket-takers.
But first let us in- quire what is to be seen of the promised land from the Elysian Fields. A splendid unfamiliar vista greets us. The old Palais de 1 'Industrie, remnant of the Exposition of 1855, home of the Salon for so many years, has disappeared ; a broad, fine avenue now traverses its
A COLONNADE
Jill-, (.k A M) I'AI Al;-
PARIS EXPOSITION
133
site and leads the eye afar to the gilded dome of the Hotel des Invalides, the resting-place of the great emperor. On the right rises the superb new palace, which will be the home of future Salons, on the left a smaller, daintier structure also dedicated to the arts. The larger palace, le Grand Palais des Beaux- Arts, was reared as a monument ' ' to the Glory of French x\rt." This magnificent construction of stone and steel and glass is not altogether faultless. The noble facade and the imposing portico, creations of the architect Degelane, are dwarfed and dominated by the swelling dome and arches
WKST (•ACAIll
134
PARIS EXPOSITION
of the engineers. The scientilic overwhehns and crushes the artistic. The modern structural masses of the colossal skylight rise like mountains of steel and crystal above the architectural lines of the Ionic colonnade, where nothing but the clear blue sky should rest. Between the columns we see fragments of a mosaic frieze, gorgeous in color, by which the great epochs of the world's art are glorified. Yet despite the presence of color and the lavish wealth of sculptural detail, the colonnade retains a grand simplicity and dignity.
ENTRANCE TO THE BEAIX-ARTS
What is more beautiful in architecture than a row of noble pillars, be they Ionic, Corinthian, or Doric in design.'^ There is in every range of fiuted columns an evocation of classic antiquity. As we tread the pavement of the porch, these colunnis, even in their youth and newness, seem to breathe something of the soul of Greece. They inspire vague long- ings for a breath of the pure air of .Vthens, for the warm touch of a ray of Attic sunshine.
The entrance portico, with its nude figures and its effec- tive groups, brings us back to I'^rance. I^^rance to-day
PARIS EXPOSITION
:>/
regards herself as the source of a artistic inspiration ; she holds her art supreme. Nor can we blame her. Do not even our sculptors and our painters, like those of European lands, seek in her schools and studios the instruc- tion of her masters .■* do they not expatriate themselves to dwell in the artistic atmosphere of Paris '■ do they not send their best efforts to her annual competitions, to be measured
IN THK ARENA
THK ARENA dl-" .SCILPTIKE
by her standards .-' Tpily, France was
not presumptuous when she reared this
monument to the glory of her art.
The contents are worthy of the
splendid en\elope. There are two
separate exhibitic^ns of jKiintings.
One is centeiiiii;il. It is an epitome
>1 French Art of the ninctL'cnth
IN THE ARENA
i3«
PARIS ICXPOSITION
ripyrig-ht 1900, by \\m. II. Kan, I'hil
IN THK GRAND I'Al.AIS
century, comprising; carl}' and late examples of all the famous painters of the nation. Private collections, churches, and provincial museums have been drawn upon for the precious pictures necessary to complete a comprehensive illustrated history of French art-endeavor from the year 1800 to the year IcSqo. The second exhibition, which occupies the main portion of the palace, is decennial, and illustrates the rapid
PARIS i:XFOSITIOX
I 39
growth and advancement of Gallic art within the last ten }ears. A host of famous and familiar canvases, althouj^h addinj^ to its retrospecti\'e \alue, take from it the atmosphere of novelt\' ; in spite of many new compositions, we carr\' away a vague sense of disappointment, born of the fact that we have seen so large a part of this exhibition before, in other galleries or salons. More than half the space within the palace is given to French artists, the rest being appor- tioned among the art- all nations. I dare lead you into even one of the lotted artists States. A to the Ameri- should oc- ing and an aft- view^ of the best
1 A TKMI'KTE I'liotiicopyri^'lit jgoo, liy Wm. H. R.i
TIIK KISS
six rooms al- of the United casual ^■ i s i t can Section cup}' a morn- ernoon ; a re- works w o u 1 d till an evenmg s ecture. To single out a Whistler or a Sargent would do injustice to the rest. More- over, photographic reproductions of paintings are ne\er wholly satisfying to the artist or the beholder. Therefore we choose the wiser course, and after casting a hasty glance at this ghostl}' assembly of marble person- ages, each \\orthy of an hour's yw- tient studw \\t- shall resume our promenade. 1 do not know how iiiaiu' pictures and statues there air within this tciiii)lc ol the arts, nor
1IIK TKMPIi.Sr
lM...I.,>:r.l|i1i,co).yrk'lltca m.m, l,y Wrn II. K.ui. I'liil.i
I40
PARIS EXPOSITION
STII,I, THE MOST BEAl'TIFL'L
alon^ the endless galleries, cipitation vividly re- called the image of a certain noted piece of sculpture — a bronze conception of "The Tempest." Still, we must ourselves sweep through the Exposi- tion like a whirlwind if we would see it all in our allotted time. However great our haste, we gladly pause to pay our homage to a goddess inniu-niori- ally old, but ever and
th
en- pace,
how many miles of canvas and tons of marble have been assembled here. I spent at least three weeks marching past leagues of walls, hung with masterpieces and mistakes, with loveli- ness and horrors, with the creations of sane- minded geniuses and of artistic anarchists. Some people tried to see it all in only half a day ; and when we met them, tearing expression, and pre-
PARIS EXPOSITION
143
IN 7111-; PUTIT PALAIS
forever beautiful and young, the \'enus of Mile. By right the Milo \'enus claims an honored place in every exposition, and we resent the placing of her nnage — even though it be but in a plaster copy — outside the Temple of the Arts.
We turn from this most perfect statue of anticpn't}' to the most perfect structure of this modern, exposition. The Petit Palais is the architectural gem of the Exposition. It con- tains the retrospective review of I-'rench Art Objects from the earliest ages down to the end of the eighteenth century. The larger palace, as we already know, being dedicated to the art of the nineteenth century, it is possible for us to trace the glorious progress of P'rench Art from the crude naive productions of the earl}' Gauls to the creations of Rodin and Pu\-is de Chavannes. P'rance has sent the most precious of her treasures to grace for a brief season this marvelous museum.
" Why, " a friend remarked, " I spent more than a }'ear in an artistic pilgrimage all through the provinces of P""rance to see the very things which I now hnd assembled in the galleries of tliis incom- parable treas- ure house. "
Should I atteiiii)!: to de-
' nil-: ■■ l-ITTl.K PALACE OF FINU AKIS
144
PARIS EXPOSITION
tail the contents of even one room, we should tnitl ourselves at the end of the lecture still lingering in admiration near the hrst cabinet of enamels, gems, or chiseled ornaments of gold. Tapestries more valuable than carpets of pure gold are lavished on the walls — ecclesiastical riches from the sacristies of many famous churches fill huge cabinets with golden jeweled splendor. \'ases and plates, the break- ing of which would be national calamities, are ranged in
COl Kl OF TIIK I'KTIT PALAIS
reckless profusion on the shelves of crystal cases. No photograph can give an idea of the interior. We seem to be in an atmosphere surcharged with the wealth and artistic refinement of more than eighteen centuries. liven the admirable court, rich in marbles, mosaics, and bronzes, seems almost poor and simple to one who emerges from the treasure-ladened halls, saturated with the sight of old-time riches, dazzled by the gleam of diamonds and rubies. We feel as if we were emerging from a visual shower-bath of uold
PARIS EXPOSITION
H5
and jewels. Nevertheless the court is wonderfully beautiful, from the blue bordered pools to the superbly sculptured walls and portals. Yet we have been told that there was nothing at the Paris Exposition to repay the visitor !
This place offers every lover of the beautiful, weeks of intense pleasure. But we must hasten out through yonder vestibule into the broad avenue which bears the name of Russia 's present czar. The vista across the Alexander
I'ORTAL OK THK PKTIT PALAIS
Bridge, which should be the most imposing of the Exposition, is for some reason disappointing to the eye. The bridge, though so low as to be almost unperceived, were it not for its four pN'lons, rises just enough to obscure the hori/on line, and to give to all the structures on the farther shore a depressed and insignificant aspect. But the fault lies in the low point of view, not in the building and the bridge. C'ould visitors march down the avenue on towering stilts, the inluTt'iit graiulcur ot tlir s|)rctacle would he at oikx' a])|);imit.
10
146
PARIS EXPOSITION
It may well be called an 1 in p e r i a I rhorough- fare, for this tine avenue of Nicholas the Second, sweeping between the permanent art palaces, is carried across the Seine by the B r i d g e of Alexander the Third, and, after traversing
I'vi.oNs OF rill': ni-!ii><;i'.
PARIS EXPOSITION
149
THE I.ONG VISTA
the Esplanade des Invalides, terminates at the Tomb of Napoleon the First. The bridge dedicated to the late Czar Alexander, father of Nicholas and friend of France, was iiung across the Seine as a symbol of the alliance between the French Republic and the Russian Empire. Superb in every detail, technically a triumph of engineering genius, architec-
1III-; PONT ALK.\A.NL)K1-; III
i;o
PARIS EXPOSITION
turally a triumph of allegoric art. the Alexander Bridge will ever remain among the attractions of the French metropolis.
Thanks to recent progress in and in the arts of metal, it has ate steel arches long enough to two banks of the Seine, high above the surface of the river
engineering methods been possible to cre-
join the enough to
Km, I, |,li..t..i;rapli. c.pyrinlit 1900, l.y Wiii. II. Kau, I'hila.
SI'I.I'.Nnil) .MASONRY
clear the funnels of all tugs and launches, and low enough to keep the roadway on a level with the esplanades. Fifteen of these arches supj)ort the Alexander Bridge, and they rest upon foundations laid at a tlepth of more than sixty feet below the water-line.
To counteract the effect of the necessary flatness, two stately ])\'l()ns rise at each extremit}', cr(jwned b}' heralds of
PARIS EXPOSITION
151
Fame and winged horses, all in j^ilded bronze. Four years of time and five million francs were given to the realization of this splendid project. Beautiful by night as well as day, is this brilliant bracelet on the curving Seine ; and even though Parisians are made poorer by the Exposition, Paris herself grows richer in artistic monuments. The profit of Paris is represented by the .Alexander Bridge and the perma- nent Art Palaces — surely a generous compensation for four preparatory years of jm dirt, disorder, and delay.
Paris was not ^jfl^^Rf ready to receive her
guests upon the \Jl2// opening day. On April
14 much re- '^PimEf mained yet undone, and
I'riiiii pliMtinjr.iiih, i.i|.vrii;lil kwo, l>y Win. II. k.iii. I'lilla.
KXIlI'lSITK !)!■ I Ml
152
PARIS EXPOSITION
dirt, disorder, and delay, still remained during April, May, and part of June the most conspicuous exhibits. True, the huge palaces of Industrial Arts were externally complete, but the interiors were choked with unopened packing-cases and alive with working carpenters. During the first six weeks we scarcely ventured into a big building, and when we did make our rare incursions into Chaos, it was only to retire in confusion, and, with torn clothes and dusty boots and hats white with plaster.
THK I'.RinGF. RV NIGHT
to return to the examination of the promising exterior walls and decorations. In time, however, order out of chaos came, and littered labyrinths were ultimately transformed into a broad-aisled universal bazaar, where all the nations of the earth displayed their decorative wares. The two great buildings bordering the avenue, although at hrst glance identical, differ slightly in design. One palace is tlie strong- hold of the French exhibitors. Foreign nations have pitched commercial camps in the opposing structures.
PARIS EXPOSITION
155
AKCHI I I r 11 R \1. ^'ASTRY
Should I be asked what I saw in this bizarre white city. I must answer that it took me just ten days merely to stroll casu- ally up and down its gorgeous aisles and interesting byways. How, then, attempt to give in a few brief words even a list of the objects that ap- pealed to me ? In the French section behind the frescoed walls
!■ Al' I IKI-.S
1^6
PARIS EXPOSITION
there were the Go- I behn tapestries and also the tapestries of Beauvais, the pottery of Sevres, and, admi- rable above all the marvelous exhibits of jewelry and precious stones — an inde- scribable glorification of the daintiest of arts, grown daintier in the hands of the incomparable jewel- ers and cisclcurs of France. Turning from these almost sin- fully lovely things, we cross a circular court
PARIS EXPOSITION
3/
to enter the Russian section, noting, as we pass along, the fountain of green tiles in which little cherubim are play- ing. Russia's most curious, if not her most artistic of- fering, was a map of France composed of semi-precious stones, with gems to mark the sites of cities. This was the gift of Nicholas to Paris. And as we swiftly pass from nation to nation we reach the graceful portal to the United States section. Above is a panel by Augustus Koopman, representing the Industral Arts. It won for the artist a silver medal. A hurried survey of this section reveals American superiority in many lines ; notably in artistic glass do we surpass the
1.8
PARIS EXPOSITION
rAri-:sri-;ii-:
French. There is not space to go into detail. Suffice it to assert that truly the American departs as proud of his artistic artisans whose ef- forts made this sec- tion memorable, as jj of his painters and sculptors, who in the great Palace of Fine ij Arts deserved and j^TTTflfniUIIS^I won the first place among the foreign- ers. The space ac- corded us in this palace not sufficing,
AMI.KK'.W INDIS IKIAI. AKIS
PARIS EXPOSITION
i6i
American exhibitors constructed in the gardens bordering the rear wall of this palace, an annex, known as the Pavilion of the Publishers. The site was granted us on the condition that the trees which stood at intervals all over the ground be not disturbed. American ingenuity rose to the occasion. xA
ARTISTIC CLASS
buildmg covered the entire site, and all the tree-trunks are snugly boxed inside the hollow pillars, while the leafy branches spread above the arching skylights tlu'ir sheltering masses of foliage. Here was published througiiout the sum- mer an Exposition edition of the New \'(irk 7'/)ncs. lint lest we weary of the Exjiosition b\' attrni()tiiig to see too much ill one short day, lei us dash a\\a\ in a niotor-earriage n
I62
PARIS EXPOSITION
FANTASTIC I'ACADES
to the Bois de Boulogne. We pass en route the new palace of the Count and Countess de Castellane. In the Bois we hnd a happy gath- ering of theatrical celebrities indulg- ing in a fete dcs ffciirs. The au- tomobiles, arm- ored with buds and blossoms, are manned by ac- tresses, who wage a merry war with floral missiles.
\\'e return to the town b\' little
I'AVII.ION dl'- TlIK I'lni.ISHKKS
rr..m |.h..tot;r.-i|.li,co|.yrli;lit i>,»i, I
iiKll'. !)|-;S IW'AI IDI'.S
PARIS EXPOSITION
165
THE PALACE OF THE CASTELLANES
river-steamers, noting- as we approach the Tuileries a splendid unfinished structure on the left bank of the Seine. It is the Orleans railway station, La Gave da J^uui d' Orsay, erected on the site of the old Cour des Comptes. The railway line reaches the station by means of costly subways, beneath the quais along the Seine.
-.Ill l;s !• \\ 1 1
1 66
PARIS EXPOSITION
new enterprise is the underground electric road called the Metro- politan. Its main line traverses Paris from the Bois de Boulogne to the Bois de Vincennes, running beneath the Champs- Elysees and the Rue de Rivoli. It is, in fact, the only really rapid system of transit in the city. Until the Metropolitan was opened, in |uly, the public had no resource but the slow trams and busses. To-day the passenger exchanges those stuffy rumbling vehicles for these swift trains, which glide through the cool quiet tunnel at terrific speed.
I-IN I)l< SIECI.E FETE DES FLEURS
Till I.SI'I W \l<l 1>I.^ l.W AI.IDl-.S Ik.iM nil, l,lll-M-".l. I()\VI:K
PARIS EXPOSITION
169
TH1-: 1 IKI 1 ANS SI A I 1( >N
Finding ourselves at the Vincennes terminus, far from the Exposition proper, let us devote a moment to the neglected Annex in the park of Vincennes to which the admirable machinery and transportation exhibits were exiled. The American Machinery Annex, built by the American exhibitors themselves, was a credit to their enterprise, and served its purpose well ; for though tlu? crowds did not come, prospect- ive buyers found it ])ossible to stutl}' our inwntions at their ease. The exhibitors, however, led the life of exiles ; so far as Paris and its Exposition were concerned, they might as Well ha\c l)t'i-ii in factories at home. We sought out one }()ung man. whost.- Iriciids at lioiiic arc picturing his sununer at the Paris JCxposition as a pi-riod of ,i;a\- frixolity and soft
170
PARIS EXPOSITION
GARK DU QUAI D' ORSAY
repose, thinking of course that French workmen could be found to take charge of the big boilers sent over by his company and leave him free to wear good clothes and worthily represent the firm at fashionable functions and in gay cafes. But he did better, he represented the sturdy manhood of the young American, by sticking to his boilers and making them perform miracles of force and power. He did not wear good clothes and the names of gay cafes remain Greek to him. He saw less of the Exposition than the six- day tourists, but he himself is an exhibit that does credit to our nation, a type of the American who has resolved to do his work a little better than the other fellow. On July 3, a superb bronze of Washington was unveiled in the Place d' lena. It was the work of two American sculptors, Daniel French creating the figure of Washington, Potter molding the splendid charger. The monument, a gift of the women of America to France, is a token of a sister republic's gratitude.
PARIS EXPOSITION
17 1
With a proud, noble gesture, Washington salutes the nation that befriended his struggling people in the days of direst need.
On the following day the celebration of the last Fourth of July of the nineteenth century is made memorable by the unveiling of the statue of Lafayette, a gift of the school children of the United States, a memorial of that admirable Frenchman in whom, for us, French friendship is personified. Thousands of enthusiastic Americans witnessed the unveiling and applauded the sentiments expressed by President Loubet, Ambassador Porter, Archbishop Ireland, and Commissioner- General Peck ; other thousands, unable to gain entrance to the small enclosure, drowned the voices of the orators and even the strains of Sousa's Band, in a flood of patriotic song.
United States exposition guards, in their simple but effective uniforms, were conspicuous at all official functions ; nor were there more of them than were needed for the task of guarding the lifty-one sections of the American exhibit scattered in all parts of the grounds and in the distant annex
AN nl'l-. N MAI II
II I II I Ml I i;c in II 1 I A-
1/2
PARIS EXPOSITION
METROPOLITAN CAR
of Vincennes. Another uniform made familiar to the Paris- ians last summer was that of the members of Sousa s trium- phant band — a band that set all Europe dancing the
THK VINCENNES IKOLI.EY
PARIS EXPOSITION
/ 0
American two-step, to the inspiring measures of "The Stars and Stripes Forever.
Durinj^- the hot spell which Paris suffered in July, the city horses wore straw hats, and even little donkeys from the country, when they came to town bringing the farmer and his wife to market, knew enough to don cliapcaiix dc Pail/c, adapted bv means of perforations to their auricular neces- sities. For two weeks the temperature hovered in the
n II i \\\: liAI.I.OOS (AMI-: l-ROM
176
PARIS EXPOSITION
THK AMERICAN MACHINERY t!UILDING
nineties. Paris grew dusty, dry, and disagreeable. The waters of the Seine became so thick and sluggish that when the Chicagoan looked on the historic river, his bosom swelled with pride.
The Chicagoan never rides upon his river, but the Seine is the great central highway of Paris and the Exposition ; and as we speed beneath the Alexander Bridge, ^vhere the bronze Nymphs of the Neva and Seine salute the passing launches, let me outline the plan of our second prome- nade. The two grand divisions of the Exposition are linked to one another by two narrow strips aloiif^ the river shore. We are, to-day, to "do" these long connecting links, beginning with the section on the left bank graced by the palaces and pa\-ilions of the
AN KXILE AT VINCKNNKS
PARIS EXPOSITION
177
A CRf>\V[) AT VINCKNNKS
foreign nations. The first and most effective of them all is the Italian Huilding^, a composite architectural ]:)araphase of those j^lories of V'enice, St. Mark's Cathedral and the Dof^e's Palace. Seated in majesty upon the Grand C'anal of Paris, Italy's national pavilion dominates, not only in si;ie but in artistic worth, all the pavilions in the Street of
II.. A .S N I . .\
1/8
PARIS EXPOSITION
Nations. The excjuisite detail of its walls and windows, the rich colorinj^ of its mosaics bear even the closest scrutiny. And the interior, although used as a national bazaar, is dig- nified and rich in suggestions of Byzantine magnificence. A marble likeness of King Humbert and a portrait of his
|
V ifci^'^ |
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* ^S^-^^^flfllF |
l;')IS l)K VINCENNES
widowed (jueen recall the tragedy of Monza, and we ask again why iii(li\iduals must be made to suffer for the sins of a system they are powerless to change ?
The geography of the street of nations is hopelessly con- fused. To our surprise we find that Ii;aly is bounded on the west by Turkey, and that Turke}' encroaches on the frontiers of the United States. " Encroaches" is too mild a word,
PARIS EXPOSITION
i8i
for the sultan's gaudy pile of plaster, with its swelling domes, elbows our classic construction into insignificance. True to the traditions of its Oriental land, it enrages the protesting American eagle on the dome, and annoys the horses har- nessed to the chariot of progress.
rm-; siak si'Am.i.i.u m.vnnkr
Tile rnitcil States Paxilioii lias been criticised severely from iIk; staii(lp(;nit of art and architecture. Must we join in that chorus of condemnation ? Is our .\merit-an i)a\ ili(^n so inartistic as its critics have dechux-d ? (lixcn a faN'orabk' location, with spaic for the development ol the projected wings, and j^ixcn a pomt of \iew pi'rmit tiiii; some ()erspertive, would it not ehcit praist- rather than eondenmation .' 1 Jc-
lS2
PARIS EXPOSITION
neath the arch we see a copy of the Washington memorial statue, behind it the blue tones of Robert Reed's attractive mural decoration. We must admit that the interior is fear- fully and wonderfully bad. It was amusing, in a sad sort of way, to listen to the comments of the discriminating few and of the uncomprehending many, as they marveled at the mul- tiplicity of American shields, and vainly sought the meanmg
ot this ostentatious emptiness, in the midst of which a group of maddened horses are plunging in frantic efforts to escape. The horses have our sympath}'. True, a model post-office stands for utility, and an army of leather chairs and sofas for comfort ; but are these things a worthy expression of the genius of our people ^
But let us fall back ujjon our most prominent I'xhibit, the people themselves. The\' were in evidence upon the
"\l\i; \\ ASIIINC, ION
PARIS EXPOSITION
l8:
day of dedication. They came as an unclassitied exhibit, which should be marked "Ai/* for they were the best- looking people at the Exposition. In this eager crowd we
l>] UK VIKlN ol- l.AIANl-l 1 I-. MllMMI-NI
saw niorv! jjrctty girls and pretty frocks, iiiori' handsome, wholesome looking men, inon- smiling taccs, and more hon- est courtes\ than at an\ other ijatht-rinij in I'aris.
1 86
PARIS EXPOSITION
From plioto, copyright 1900 by W, H Kui. riiil.i THE STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER !
rench police had orders . the arriving crowds at iven distance. To do so hey were compelled to join hands and form a living barrier; but when our "March King ' ' Sousa lifted his musical scepter, his eager subjects broke through that chain of little guardians the peace, and sweep- mg the protesting gen- irmes off their feet, rushed 11 the terrace in a demo- cratic avalanche. Yet this was done in such good humor that
ITAI.V, TIKKEV, LNITl-;!) SIAIES, AM) AISTKIA
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^^^^ pBBBIJWHii |
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Tin-: (;ii-T <>i wii uu .\.\ sciiooi. ciiiidki-.n
PARIS EXPOSITION
189
even the punctilious Continentals smiled to see the police calmly reform their line hchi)id the crowd.
The American people found in their pa\ilion, if not deliit^ht of eye and aesthetic satisfaction, at least an atmosphere of democratic hospitality, in pleasing contrast to the repellent official coldness that possessed the guardians of the more tasteful palaces of many of the European nations.
I90
PARIS EXPOSITION
" C' EST MMK. PECK QUI ARRIVE"
A great event at the American pavilion was the official \isit of President Loubet. He is a short, gray-bearded man, w ith a face best described as kindly and sympathetic. He is always accompanied by M. Picard, the commissioner-general of . the Universal Exposition, a tall thin man with sharp eagle-like features worn to a skeleton by the tremendous
I HI'. 1 M I 1,1
PARIS EXPOSITION
193
cares that rest upon him. Wherever the official cortei^e fjoes, there go the official photographers with their ladders and long tripods. We see them a moment later await- ing the presidential
exit from the Bosnian PaviHon. Between the pavilion of the United States and Ikxsnia- Herzegovina rises the Austrian palace. Its interior is furnished ac- cording to the curious decorative standards of the Viennese taste.
>3
IT KIM, I)()l, l),\\s
194
PARIS EXPOSITION
Following; the broad terrace we pass beneath the arch- way of the Huiif^arian Tower, and find that another geo- graphical hyperbole makes England a near neighbor of Hungary. An ideal home is Britain's offering to the Street of Nations, a dwelling, restful in design, irreproachable in taste, and unostentatiously magnificent. It is a replica of Kingston House, a manor of the seventeenth century. Upon
Sl'C.C.KS'noNS Ol' SAX MARCO
PARIS EXPOSITION
197
ON THK SKINK
the walls of its excjuisite apartments hang" pictures by Burne- Jones, Reynolds, Gainsborough, and Turner. In striking contrast to the sober British gray, is the bright blue of Persia's mosque-like palace. The terrace on the roof is an admirable point of view whence to look down on Bel-
KIVKR NVMIMIS
1 98
PARIS EXPOSITION
A BIT OI" oil) I lAI N
PARIS EXPOSITION
20I
I HI'; 1 I AI.IAN IN riJKlOK
f^iuin's inedia'val city-li;ill, a faithful representation of the Hotel (le \'illi; ol the town of Audenarde. It was in thrse things that the Paris Exposition was most achnirahlf. The artistic fra^^iniMits of foreign lands were so f^roupt-cj that one nii,!4lit travel round the world in half a da\- and hrrathe the atmosphere oi a diffrrent comnry at almost e\ei"\' step.
202
PARIS EXPOSITION
From Bel.iiiuin we skirt the coast of Norway to the banks of the German Rhine. Norway shows us a huge red cottage, filled with Nansen 's trophies, and other things that tell of the North seas. Germany challenges our attention with a gorgeous structure, lifting an unmistakably Teutonic tower above the Gallic Seine. Genuineness was the keynote of every manifestation of the artistic and industrial genius of
ON 1 111'. 1 l-.KKAn.
PARIS EXPOSITION
20:
Germany. No other nation illustrated more convincingl}' its rapid proj^ress i the last decade. While glorying in her past achievements, the Kaiser s land points resolutely to the future and dreams of greater things to come. Not so with Spain, whose palace rises on the right. With quiet dig- nity Spain seems to say, " Behold what I have been ! ' She bids us enter a cold, almost vacant court, and do homage to a statue of Velasquez, whose pictures are among the most pre-
Then she leads us
cious of her remaining treasures
IHE BIRD 1)K I'REKDOM
into high-ceiled halls and corridors where we may feast our eyes upon the loveliest tapestries in all the world. But the tap- estries are Flemish, fruits
nil- I IIAKIOT ()!• I'KOl.KKSS
2o6
PARIS EXPOSITION
of the Spanish con- quest of the Nether- lands. She shows us two or three superb f r a ^' m e n t s of chis- eled, inlaid armor, and an incomparably dainty fan, thus evok- ing' with eloquent simplicity the days when Spanish knif^ht- hood was the admira- tion of the world.
Another step and we have crossed the
THK I'NOM I'.NKr
PARIS EXPOSITION
209
1; I \ liKSIDE RESTAURANTS
frontier of the little principality of Monaco. We are sur- prised to find frivolous Monte Carlo represented, not by a gay Casino, crowned with a roulette wheel, and decorated with portraits of the King of Spades, the Queen of Diamonds, and the Jack of Hearts, but by a somber pile of stone, an imposing fortified chateau, rivaling in size the buildings of the largest nations.
It is a replica of the chateau of Albert. Prince of Monaco, whose kingdom, though apparently onl}' a few square miles
14
2IO
PARIS EXPOSITION
GREAT BRITAIN
BRITISH IKlHilV
PARIS EXPOSITION
211
THE UNITED STATES DOME BY NIGHT
Sweden's brown freak of shingled turrets and balconies and towers serves to throw into the most pleas- ing contrast the modest Greek pa- vilion in the form of a tiny Byzan- tine basilica. Within, alas, we find exposed noth-
in extent, is in- finitely broad, for the bottom of the sea belongs to him by right of scientific con- quest. Albert of Monaco is a royal scientist. His oceanographic explorations have revealed to us many of the mys- teries of that al- m o s t unknown continent hidden by the deep wa- ters of the globe.
I, A IICKIA
212
PARIS EXPOSITION
ing but modern products — tan shoes and patent leather, dried currants and cheap wines. A few blocks of Pentelic marble are the only things suggestive of glorious antiquity. The Servian pavilion is likewise a church of Byzantine de- sign. Mexico's contribution to this cosmopolitan array of
ON ATTEND M. I.OUBET
palaces rises below the Bridge of Alma, and there are many attractive pavilions, notably those of Finland, Rumania, Bulgaria, and Denmark, ranged in a second row behind the more conspicuous palaces, which rise in friendly rivalry upon the terraced shore.
The lower terrace is one long, international restaurant, where it is possible to make a gastronomic tour around the
GERMANY AND Sl'AIN
PARIS EXPOSITION
21
world. We breakfast to the music of Hungari£.n gypsies ; at five o'clock we take tea to the tinkling of Neapolitan guitars ; we dine to the sound of the Servian tambou- ritz or usually amid the clacking of Cas- tillian castanets. The restaurant called ' ' La \ Feria, ' beneath the V Spanish building, was b\ common consent the rendez- vous of those who sought good cooking, gaiety, and noise. French chefs, mandolin players
M. LOUBET AND M. PICARD
t\ K ,M \mil IslN.
2l6
PARIS EXPOSITION
from Madrid, and dancers from Seville, provided delecta- tion for the palate, ear, and eye. An evening at "La Feria " was an experience not to be omitted. Next door we
Ml IS \. ( . AM. s\\ I I )!•.
IN lllE L.MIIlD si ATI'S r.Wll l(i\
PARIS EXPOSITION
219
tind the German restaurant, more sedate but always so crowded to the water's edge. In- terminable rows of tables stretch away in two direc- tions, and at these tables people of every nationality are striving to ap- pease an interna- tional appetite . Hut if by day we tind this section pleasing to the senses, by night its fascinations are i increased one jAj hundred-
fold. Tlien thousands of el outline every palace again mystery and blackness of sky. The towers of Mona and Spain, the Turkish tur- rets, and the dome and arch of the United States stand out in luminous re- lief. The music of a score of orchestras comes to us in a faint uiii\ersa cacophony, and the mingled murmur of more tonsju
C.KKMANV
220
PARIS EXPOSITION
THK AMKKICAN I'lCf)?!.!;
than Babel boasted is wafted from this ephemeral cosmopolis across the silent waters of the Seine. But the placid Seine was not always silent and undisturbed. During the magnifi- cent Venetian Fetes, in Au<;ust, processions of illuminated barges glided and circled and defiled between the banks, fill- ing the night with glare of torches and lanterns and with the blare of trumpets and the sound of song and the sudden
PARIS EXPOSITION
223
GREECE AND SERVIA
SINDAV CROWDS
224
PARIS EXPOSITION
brillianci}' of pyrotechnic fires. In the distance loomed the twin towers of the Trocadero, and over all, like the ribs of an incandescent umbrella, revolved the search-lights of the Eiffel Tower.
TH1-; si-;iNi-; i:\ night
PARIS EXPOSITION II
he Paris
Exposition
FRONTING the Seine, between the Bridge of Ahna and the Bridge of Jena, is the long narrow " Palace of the Armies of the Sea and the Land." Strangely enough, the same roof shelters also the section devoted to Hygiene.
P'rom the hail where the bust of Pasteur is enshrined amid the instruments that served him in his marvelous exj)eri- ments, we ma}' turn to the exhibits of arlilK'r\' and warsliips ; from the life-saving, jieahli-iitsuring iii\ entiDUs of dial great benefactor of linmanity, to the death-dealing conlri\ances used in war on land ami sea.
228
PARIS EXPOSITION
Eloquently suggestive fare is the great central hold. Armored sentinels equestrian statues of the mortal Bayard stand with- whose presence alone is and chivalry of battles armies long ago. There turesqueness in the war- fortress is constructed an engineer. Armies to- khaki — the steel is worn ( Creusot stained
of the pomp of oldtime war- portal of this staff strong- are posted at the bridge, and brave Duguesclin and the im- in the shadow of the archway, sufficient to evoke the poetry that were fought by steel-clad is but little poetry and pic- fare of to-day. The modern not by an architect but by day are clad in cloth and by the forts and ships. The dome, crimson and
A NOVEI- ASPECT OF THK EIFFEL TOWER
hideous, like a great gory menace, stands strikingly out amid the palaces of peace, an extremely discordant stain upon this Parisian Field of the Cloth of Gold, where a large majority of the nations of the earth are assem- bled to render unmistakable proofs of universal amity and love. It is the creation of the firm of Schneider
PARIS EXPOSITION
231
A STRONGHOLD OF STAFF
& Company, makers of the famous Creu- sot c a n n o 11 , elec- trical apparatus, and locomotives. Behind its ugly, threatening dome runs the ele- vated moving side- walk, one of the most amusing fea- tures of the Exposi- tion. The French- men called it a Plate-forme Mobile — there are, in fact, three platforms, the first IS stationary,
232
PARIS EXPOSITION
AKMORF.D KKNlKIfcS
lie CIIATI.AI' Ii I- \1
PARIS EXPOSITION
233
FATIGL-ES
the second moves at a pace equal to an easy walk, an<l the third rolls alonj^- about as fast as a woman in tij^^ht shoes can run. To step from the ini- mobile platform to one plate-forme mo- bile, or vice versa, recjuired little skill ; yet nine women out of every ten, with that innate feminine impulse to face the wrong way, found it impossible to effect a
UNI ii>i 1; 1- r ('ii:-(Ki-:is() r
234
PARIS EXPOSITION
THE MOVING SIDHWAIK
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ON THE I'l.ATKFORMK MOBILE
PARIS EXPOSITION
235
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change of base without a stum- ble and a shriek. Many of them, once upon the moving platform, remained trans- fixed, clutching a post, irrevo- cably swept on until rescued by some uniformed attendant. The movable side- walk is continu- ous, and in the course of its me- anderings, it car- ries us through a busy street on a level with the second-stor\'
WAXKN SMII.KS
236
PARIS EXPOSITION
windows. Hence new and tempting opportunities for flirtatious French- men. We think at first glance we have made a great impression, but the lady in the window is impar- tial, she smiles a waxen smile and waves an artificial hand at the end- less tide of pass- ers-by; so without regret we roll on.
|
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ROLLING ON THK TROTTOIR ROULANT
)] rilE PRESS
PARIS EXPOSITION
239
PAI.ACH Ol-' SOCIAL KCOSUM\
A witty sug-gestion was made by our indefatigable ambas- sador, General Porter. During the season he was called upon to make a speech in almost every corner of the Exposi- tion. "Why," he exclaimed one day in desperation, "should I write many speeches and deliver them to the same official audience from various platforms ? Why not
I. A l;l I. IJI. I'AKIS
!40
PARIS EXPOSITION
prepare one speech, and deliver it in a continuous burst of eloquence, from tha P/a/c-/'()r?}ic Mobile?'"
Another name for this invention is " Trotloir Roulaiit. " Now the verb roiilcr means " to roll, " and when a punning Frenchman saw a group of English tourists plant themselves upon the rolling walk, he waved his hat and cried, '"All, bravo! — Roulc Bn'lcDmia y until Britannia's subjects had " rouled " out of sisht.
V.\\',\ SHOW
Having finished sightseeing on the left bank, visitors may cross a busy bridge and explore the narrow strip along the right bank of the Seine.
The simple, dignified white building is the Palace of Social Economy. It served as headquarters of the various Congresses of wise men and learned women which assembled in Paris during the sunnner of 1900.
I fear that few of us attended those meetings of the sages. The sunn}' out-of-door attractions offered a tempta- tion not easy to resist. .Vmong these frivolous and superficial
PARIS EXPOSITION
241
CHICAGO NEACOLITANS
242
PARIS EXPOSITION
;atures of the inter- ational kerrness, the Rhc dc Paris was at first sight rich- est in promises of merriment. A score of tiny the- aters were here with ballets, tab- leau vivants, cine- 'i matographs, and singers. There was a house built upside- down, a disappoint- ment, by the way, be- cause the inverted ef- fect of the interior was due to mirrors only. There was an exhibi- tion of infants con- fined in patent incu- bators. It must be confessed that in attendance the baby- show had much the best of it, thanks to the magic words above the door, which even those who knew but little French could easily translate : "Admission Gratis." But after see- ing the helpless little packets of humanity in their coffin- like glass cases, who could refuse to drop a few sous into the tray extended by a nurse. There were five or six similar baby-shows, all drawing large crowds and equally large contributions.
Near by we find an orchestra of costumed Neapolitans. After the inevitable, but ever-pleasing " Funiculi-Funicula " and the song of "Bella Napoli, " the little bo\s pass round a tambourine for pennies.
LOIE FUI.LKR
PARIS EXPOSITION
245
BONSHO.M.MES GflLLAUME
"Where do no' from? " we inquire French.
" America, raphes a boy.
Thinking this a ruse to loosen our purse-strinf<s, we say in ILn- ghsh. "Well,
tluMI, if \ I)
come ti < Mil Am ica, tell us where y n u
Thr \<)un,i; up in a faiiiili.ir dialect,
AKMS' AN» NAVV
246
PARIS EXPOSITION
"Sure ting, we all lives in Chicago on de West Side, corner of Canal and Twelfth."
Another transatlantic feature is the little theater of our compatriot. Miss Loie Fullcir, the creator of those dazzling dances in which the dancer seems to be an incandescent butterfly or an animated spectrum. No one could possibly mistake the Loie Fuller theater ; so expressive is the exte-
" THE HOUSE OF THE LAIGH
rior design that we can almost feel the swish of flying skirts. It was the most successful enterprise in all the street, thanks to La Loie s luminous personality, and to her wisdom in engaging for the season that little company of players from Japan, who last winter astonished American theater-goers with their marvelous skill in every form of dramatic art, from grotesque dancing to the tragic drama, with death- scenes so intense as to be positively painful.
PARIS EXPOSITION
249
II.OUKKS AND FKRNS
I tell}', Yacco is the ac- tress of the world. Iilven the seeniinj^ly j^ro- tesque dramatic methods of the Japanese could not chni the flame of ge- nius that j^lows ill Sada Yacco. As for her con- sort, Otojiro Kawakanii. he is masterly in his por- trayal ot tile lu-roes of old japan. His sta^^e contests in which he overcoiiu's so maii\- of his
Sada Yacco con- quered Paris and won from even the most crit- ical of Frenchmen the acknowled.i^ment of the greatness of her art. One famous critic, speaking" of the univers- ality of her art, — its independence of lan- guage limitations, — said that " while Bernhardt is the actress of France, and Duse the actress of
t'.K ACIviri. <,Ki:i MUM SI
250
PARIS EXPOSITION
enemies by means of " Jiujutsu " are the most marvelous stage fights ever devised. The Japanese players made the artistic success of the Exposition of 1900 ; all other entertainments of- fered on the grounds were commonplace and uninteresting. Another interesting section of the right bank is the recon- struction of the Paris of the Middle Ages. It is as if the ghost of mediaeval Paris had risen from the Seine to look from its quaint gable windows upon the Paris of the present. In its streets the people of to-day mingle with the people of the past ; and well may we believe ' ' there were giants in
those days, " as we observe the gigantic figure striding at the head of a fantas- tic procession. The illusion of a vanished age is successfully cre- ated ; the modern visitors seem out of place, while the costumed in- habitants harmo- nize perfectly with their sur- roundings. In the streets are theaters, taverns, churches, shops, and restaurants, and even stroll- ing clowns and mountebanks
OLP I'AKIS
PARIS EXPOSITION
251
PI-;<)I'I,IC Ol'- THIi HAS! AM) Ol' IIIK rRESi;NT
IN nil-. I'AKIS 111' I \K\Mis HAN
252
PARIS EXPOSITION
performing in the streets. There is a printing-office whence issues the ' ' Gazette of Old Paris, ' ' which re- tails in quaint type the news and scan- dals of the four- teenth century. The architectural studies for this re- construction were made by Albert Robida, the archi-
MEDI^EVAL JOKERS
tect whose magic pencil has sum- moned from the past this vision of a Paris which had theretofore existed for us only in im- agination. D'Ar- tagnan or C'yrano de Bergerac would recognize in it the Paris of their day. Below Old Paris we pass tile large
THERE WERE GIANTS IN THOSE DAYS'
PARIS EXPOSITION
255
restaurant of the l£taljlissc))ic)its Dund, and soon arrive
in the
gardens of the Trocadero.
The Palace of the Trocadero, a renmant of the Exposition of 1878, takes its name from a victory near the Spanish town of Cadiz in 1823, when a fort called the Trocadero was captured by the French. In this section are found the exhibits of Russia, China, Japan, South Africa, the French colonial pos- sessions, and of the iolonies of several European states. Holland sends a fragment of a sculp- tured temple from the island of Java, and two very curious houses from the Pandang region of Sumatra. Millions of Ma- lys
KNTKKS MKSIMMES'
MI'SSIKl'RS !
are ruled by the Dutch in the- east- ern a re li ipe lago that borders our new Philipi)iiie jxjs- sessionsonthe south. The exi)ositions of tiu English colonies ai
Mor.S I KHANKS
256
PARIS EXPOSITION
VIEUX PARIS
grouped around the turreted pavilions of India and of Ceylon. Canada and Australia display their admirable useful products
PARIS EXPOSITION
257
in pavilions that are utilitarian in aspect rather than artistic. Even the Japanese, most tasteful people in the world, have caug^ht the fever for Occidental ug^liness. Their tea-houses, which are not Japanese at all, retail Oriental beer, and their shops are stocked with the kind of trash that sells in big department stores. Even the Imperial Pavilion was built by European carpenters and lacks that indefinable something which gives incomparable distinction to everything truly Jap- anese. Opposite Canada's pavilioi stands that of the South African Re- publics. By some strange coinci- dence the site al- lotted to the Boer Republic is upon the very border of the British colo- nial section. The Transvaal brings to Paris not only samples of its gold and its dia- monds, but also a complete active illustration of the mining methods used in obtaining the four JHHidr.^d million dollars' worth of |)recious metal represented b\- the towering ]:)\ramid she has here set up. The small cube at the base represents a brick worth a million francs. .V xerilable gold-mine has been created in subterranean corridors, iiiu-d with genuine ore brought trom South Africa. We closely follow the; ore through e\iry i)roc- ess, from the first stroke of the drill or ])ick to the fmal molding into bricks.
17
>. AklONET 1 K 1 MKA I 1;R
258
PARIS EXPOSITION
From South Africa to Russia is but a step across this interesting " map " in the Trocadero Gar- dens. Of Russia, France 's chief all}', much was expected, and amply the czar's government has fulfilled the ex- pectations of the French. The Russian Palace, a very imposing THE CELESTIAL GLOBE Krcmliu , d o m 1 "
nates this northern section, as Russia herself dominates the
'jjiiiiiiin^^''
A FRAGMENT OK HORO BODOR
PARIS EXPOSITION
261
lands of the far west. But the one fact most strongl\- em- phasized by Russia's comprehensive manifestation is the ap- proaching completion of the Trans-Siberian Raihvaw " From Moscow to Peking," the motto written on the walls, signifies to jealous powers, * ' Eastward the Star of Empire takes its way. ' ' For just so surely as the Anglo-Saxon star advances westward, so does the star of the Slavonic race flash like a comet toward the east. Beware of the rain of fiery meteors when these hostile planets shall clash !
If". ^
.*/l
1111 I'l I ■■ 1 I ' II N \ AMI I 111'- 1 Ki >. \lll-.K
262
PAiaS EXPOSITION
INDIA AND CKNIdN
In the Russia pavilion we make a mimic journey over the Trans-Siberian with the aid of painted panoramas which roll
PARIS EXPOSITION
263
past the window of a stationary train. Suffice it to say that we lunch in hixurious dininj^-cars meantime glancing out upon tlie thing landscape, noting all the striking scenic fea- tures of the new railway route from Europe to the Sea of Japan. On issuing from the cars we find ourselves within the precincts of Peking. There is a deep political signifi- cance in the ju.xtaposition of the Russian and the Chinese
r^x.
/ ^.^'^
264
PARIS EXPOSITION
sections. We enter a Russian portal, we sit in Russian cars, and, without crossing any marked frontier, we sud- denly discover that our surroundings are Chinese.
1 HI-. s< II III \l 1; 1
PARIS EXPOSITION
267
Approaching the French colonial sec- tion which may aptly be called the Parisian " Midway, " we tind the counterfeit pre- sentments of its deni- zens ranged upon this wall. These are types of the inhabitants of all the colonies and the protectorates of France. And in the Trocadero Gardens little fragments from their far-of^ lands are THK r.oi.n OF sniTH AFRICA scattereQ, brilliant
with local color and steeped in exotic atmosphere. Algeria.
ASIA I IC KISSIA
268
PARIS EXPOSITION
I)1H IKANS-SlBKklAN PANORAMA
the largest African possession of France, here Hfts its grace- ful green-tiled minarets and its contrasting snowy domes.
PICTlRIiSQl'K CHINA
Till". KISSI.W OKIKNT
PARIS EXPOSITION
271
kl 1 I'D l;\' hRANCE
With a (lelij^httul thrill, born of the thought that this is not the first time that we see it, we enter the Algerian street ; we even recognize the wily traders who cheated us in the real African bazaars, six years ago. We hear the sound of Arab flutes, the chink of metal castanets, and the rhythmic wailing of the " Ouled Nails, " who are dancing impassively
A ri)KTAI. IKOM l-l'.KlNIi
2/2
PARIS EXPOSITION
in neighboring cafes. Near by, the Protectorate of Tunis offers picturesque attraction to those who love the color and the quaintness of the Barbary States.
Behind the Trocadero rises the panorama illustrating Major Marchand's heroic march through Central Africa, from sea to sea, — a march that ranks with the achievements of Livingstone and Stanley, and yet ended in the inglorious
•' INDKJENKS "
PARIS EXPOSITION
2/3
capitulation to the supremacy of England at Fa- shoda. Near here another panora- ma tells the story of the conquest of Madagascar, now a loyal possession of the French Republic. Nor must we forget the Asian Empire of France, for it rivals the African in extent and sur- passes it in popu- lation. We scarcely realize that France controls vast ter-
AN ALGERIAN I'ATIO
13
274
PARIS EXPOSITION
AI.CKRIAN STREET
ritories in the East. Her Indo-Chinese possessions com- prise Annam, Tonking, Cambodia, Laos, and Cochin-China,
while in Siam French influ- ence is dominant.
The name ' ' Cambodia has always suggested to me a land like those in which authors lay the scenes of Ori- ental comic operas ; and judg- ing from a fragment of that unfamiliar country, no more appropriate background could be selected for an extrava- ganza. A stairway steep as Jacob's ladder, bordered by fantastic dragons, leads to a temple in red and gold, sur- mounted by a yellowish mina-
PARIS EXPOSITION
-^n
PICTIRKSIJllp: ATTRACTIONS
ret. As we climb, we hear the music of the tinkly temple bells, suspended from the angles of the eaves. Below the
ri'NISIAN nA/AAR
2 7S
PARIS EXPOSITION
temple is a capacious grotto, apparently hollowed in the heart of a Cambodian mountain. Tremendous visages of unknown gods worshiped by the ancient races of Cambodia glower upon the intruder, as he descends the marvelous spiral stair- way, leading into that sculptured subterranean sanctuary. Other gods bearing a family resemblance to the buried deities are found in the surrounding gardens. So perfectly
PANORAMA OF MARCHAND S MARCH
'nil-; cAMr.oDi.w ii-.mi'I.k
PARIS EXPOSITION
281
11 Iil-.N I!!"I)I)1IA
has the aspect of extreme age been simulated that the trees of the Tro- cadero seem to hold the idols in a close snake-like embrace. We do not have time even to glance at the other colo- nies, the French Indies, Marti- nique, Dahomey, Soudan, or Sene- gal, for we must hasten on to An-
iNDocm
282
PARIS EXPOSITION
A BUDDHIST 1 AOCOON
dalusia, if we would see Spain as it was be- fore the Moors were conquered and cast out. We see the cavaHers of King l^oabdil pitted against Spanish knights in gallant tournaments ; we rest in patios where, confined by lacelike arches, the famous lions of the Al- hambra stand at bay ; we drink deli- cious Moorish coffee to the music of Moroccan instruments ; and then, to wind up the visit gaily, we crowd into a gorgeous open-air theater and applaud the dashing Gypsy dancers from Granada, and finally, with tired eyes, and ears also in need of rest, we turn from these pictur- esque attractions and seek repose in the contemplation of the fountains of the Trocadero.
From the east tower of the Palace of the Trocadero we may enjoy splen- did views of the Exposition. The Seine curves to- ward the east, bordered by the War Palace and the Street of Na- tions on one side and Old Paris and the Rue de Paris on the other. In the distance a white line clearly marks the Es- planade des Inva-
CAMnODIAN nr^iTiics
PARIS EXPOSITION
lides. Toward the west the Seine rolls away between the suburbs of Crenelle and Passy. The Grands Hotels du Trocadero rise in the middle distance, and the Cambodian Temple lies in the foreground, half encircled by the right arm of the Trocadero gal- lery. Toward the south the view is bisected vertically by the Eiffel Tower and horizontally by a broad canal-like section of the Seine. Across the Seine, at the end of the Bridge of Jena, are the palaces of navigation and the fisheries and forestry pavilions. Beyond the Eiffel Tower in the Champ de Mars are the vastest buildings of the Exposition, and far away upon the right is the Big Wheel of Paris.
Beyond the wheel lies the Swiss Village. Let us go thither at once lest amid the multiplicity of things to do we
A STRANGER IN A STRANCE LAND
KlCNl'H 1M)II-:S
284
PARIS EXPOSITION
ANDALUSIA IN THK TIME OF THE MOORS
omit a visit to this remote and interesting valley. William Tell's Chapel, in replica, stands on the shore of a tiny lake
THE i.IONS ol- rllK Al M \\IHI;A
KIXC r.( lAl'.Hll.'S C.W Al ll K^
PARIS EXPOSITION
287
THE GIRALDA
Luzerne, which mirrors dizzy cliffs of artificial rock. Steep mountain-trails wind up to chalets perched on the verge of awful precipices, and lovely pastoral valleys nestle in the embrace of hills and ridges so deceptively realistic that we cannot believe that just beyond them lies, not another peace- ful vale, but a wilderness of tenements and factories. Es-
ASIANKIS KKSOI'ND
288
PARIS EXPOSITION
CASCADES OK THE TROCADHRO
caping the watchful eye of the policeman, we climb the fence and wander up this tempting valley, and then, turning,
SUNDAY Af' 1 KKNUi '.N
PARIS EXPOSITION
291
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we ^aze up at the beetlinj^' craj^s, only to timl be\-on(l ati Alpine ran^e, a startlingly substantial " rainbow "' formed by the periphery of the Biji^ Wheel. After listeninji;- to the yodler, who is answered by a Swiss horn from the hills, let us go soaring awav abovi; the peaks of Switzerland in one ot the swinging cars of the (irai/dc /xo/ic dc P((ris, a brother to the h'^erris Wheel that once looiiird abo\e Ohicago.
292
PARIS EXPOSITION
IN THE SWISS VILLAGE
Returning to the Exposition proper, we find the Bridge of Jena thronged by the Sunday crowds ; for Sunday was the
PEACEFl'L VALES
PARIS EXPOSITION
293
great day for the Paris populace. During the week the aver- age attendance was about 150,000 a day ; on Sundays half a million people usually passed the gates, and spent the day in elbowing their way along the esplanades, squeezing through the congested aisles in all the buildings, and finally closed their restful outing with a long, frantic struggle to get aboard an omnibus-boat on the Seine. At six in the afternoon, the
WILLIAM TKLL'S CILM'I':!.
294
PARIS EXPOSITION
crowded pontoons were black with impatient, tired, sight- seers. But on Sundays there was always room in all the places where admission-fees were charged, for the Sunday public was not lavish with its money. The frugal folk even hesitate to sit down on the yellow chairs set temptingly about, for they who sit, be it but for a second, are liable to a tax of two cents, which is collected promptly by seedy
THE TROCADERO
old women in black. These women would make wonderful detectives ; they seem to know by instinct when any one sits down within a radius of half a block. On the back of every chair is the name of the hrm controlling the conces- sion. It is '' Allcz Frl'rcs,'" surely an unfortunate title for a firm whose only desire is that people should stop going and sit down, for Allcz Frcrcs, translated literally, is a fraternal command to move on : " Go, Brothers !
PARIS EXPOSITION
297
THK RIGHT ARM ()!• Ill
" Societe Generale, ' the complex responsi- bilities of handlinj^ the gate receipts, not only of the Exposi- tion, but also of the minor shows and at- tractions. Its uni- formed officials col- lect the cash at every turnstile. It is the financial heart of the Exposition, the organ which keeps the gold- en blood in circula- tion. Next door, the castle of the tiniest
We stop a mo- ment to observe the Pulais dc la Fcui- »ic. It is daintily teminine in style, but not in intent or scope a duplication of the Woman's Building at Chicago. It is a side- show to which we pay admission, instead of a serious expression of the progress of the modern woman. An- other dainty structure close at hand is a tinv domed pavilion of the
a banking enterprise which assumed
I'KoM 1II1-; roi" 111' I 111-; i K<)C.\ni-:RO
298
PARIS EXPOSITION
SHTT IN BV TOWERING CRAGS
republic in the world rears its proud battlements ; for the independent state of San Marino, a free state in the heart of
A CI.II'I- 01- STAFF
PARIS EXPOSITION
299
monarchic Italy, thus reminds the world of its existence. There are so many curious attractions assembled in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower that when beneath that ^reat spire we scarcely know which way to turn. Towers and pin- nacles and domes of the most varied and fantastic shapes rise in this exotic garden of architectural growths. There are the pointed red and yellow spires of the Siamese palace, the curi- ous fagade and the dull-red Japanese pagoda of the attraction called the Totir dii Monde. Particularly pleasing to the traveler is this panorama of the Tour Around the World. The exterior of the elaborate structure suggests the joys of Oriental travel. The pagoda and the entrance-gate carved in Japan bear the stamp of genuineness. It remained for this money-making enterprise to in- troduce into Paris the only worthy examples of the architecture of Japan. Within the building we find a huge ellip- t i c a 1 panorama, where from a sin- gle point of view the traveler sees a series of the most charming views that tirect him as
AKTIKICIAI. ALPS
300
PARIS EXPOSITION
ON THE BRIDGE OF JENA
he goes around the world. From the AcropoHs the eye wanders to Constantinople, thence passes by Jerusalem to
THE PONT D JENA
PARIS EXPOSITION
301
A E'ONTON AT FIVE O CLOCK
the Suez Canal, and so on to the farthermost east, the eye being led from land to land Nvithout a shock. The vistas merge into one another as naturally as do the real objects in the foreground merge into the painted scene behind. A novel feature is the introduction of living people in the fore- ground. For example, between us and the section of the
A I'DNION A 1 SIX 0 ("LOCK
;o2
PARIS EXPOSITION
SUNDAY CROWDS
.^
(.^■'■■^^^^i., :,:
PARIS EXPOSITION
303
THK PALACK OF THK WOMAN
painting where Fujiyama rises, there is a Japanese tea-house as real as it is dainty, peopled by a dozen geishas from Tokio, dressed in the fabrics of Japan. The very atmosphere of Dai Nippon is there — the home, the garden, the people, and the dis- tant view are purely Japanese. There is nothing in the com- position that is not truthful and satisfying to the lover of Japan. Another fragment of a land I love was found in the Moorish section ; a yate and
TiUKivis \Nn io\\i;i,'s
304
PARIS EXPOSITION
SAN MARINO
minaret from old Tangier, a narrow street of tiny shops, a
bench where Moorish coffee may be drunk amid the babel of loud cries in Arabic, and in the bazaar a cool place of rest, where we discover two fine old Moorish merchants. We can- not refrain from tell- ing- them that we are among the few who h a V e traveled into Morocco, who know the gardens and the streets of their sacred city, Fez. Then fol- lows a long conversa- tion, in the course of
KXOIIC- AKCm IKCTfKAI. (.KOWTIIS
PARIS EXPOSITION
307
A PllACICl'lL VISTA
which we iearn the most unwelcome news, that our old ^uide, the irrepressible and loyal friend of our Moorisli wanderings, Haj i\bd-er-Rahnuin Sakuna, will nc'X'cr lead another caravan across the roadless plains, for last vear he set out on his eternal pilgrimage.
Among the startling novelties at the lLxi-)osition. periiaps the most ambitious was the J^iiUtis Ln))ii)icii\\ a fantastic palace, made of opalescent glass, within which the arts ot diamond-cutting and glass-l)lowing were i)ra(-tic-i'(L I5y day
30'J
PARIS EXPOSITION
THE ARCH OF THE TOWER
the palace seemed to drink in light through its translucent, tinted walls, until at nightfall, saturated with luminous rays, it gave them forth again to make the darkness beautiful. It then appeared like an enchanted castle of the King of Fire- liies. The brilliant incandescent marvel mirrors itself in a
CARVED IN JAPAN
PARIS EXPOSITION
309
A FRAGMENT OK REAL JAPAN
small lake upon the other shore of which is the very delightful restaurant of the Pavilion Bleu, with terraces and balco- nies, w^hich at night are bathed in a golden glare. Beyond, fram- ed by the arch of the great Tower, is the much-advertised Optical Palace. Fortunately the w^ord "optical" suggests the word "delusion" and relieves me from the necessity of using it. Externally it was rich in promises of interesting scientific revelations, but nothing seemed to work — from the largest telescope in the world, w'hich was not in operation, down to the luminous tubes, which failed to glow. The one success of the establishment was a long gallery lined with a score of curved mirrors, in which spectators saw themselves distorted in a score of laugh- provoking ways. Whenever we felt blue, we had but to take a turn with the roaring crowd up and down that merry gal- lery, and there indulge in comi- cal reflections.
As an economy of time, we will survey this sec- tion from the Eif- fel Tower. We see below the long gallery that shelters the great telescope, so large
A I'AM ASri
3IO
PARIS ILXPOSITION
MOROCCO
that it c-niiimt ]n- jiointed toward the
heavens, but hes pros- trate Hke a cannon of nianinioth propor- tions, a hu^e mirror being used to throw tlie reflections of the moon and stars into the horizontal tube. Across the Avenue Suffren we see the tracks of the Termi- nal Stations, to the left the C.airo Street, to the right the Celes- tial Globe. On the right, just below the globe, is the success-
KKOM Ol.I) I ANGIKR
PARIS EXPOSITION
311
ful Mareorama, where we experience the illu- sion of a trip by sea from Villefranche to Constantinople ; next to it on the left is a panorama of Algiers, and still farther to the left a tiny reproduction of Venice, a rash at- tempt to crowd into nar- row space everything of interest in Venice from St. Mark's Cathe- dral to the Grand Ca- nal. Let us drop into this mimic ' ' City of the Doges." Marvelously deceptive at first glance
312
PARIS EXPOSITION
is the mass of reproduced detail ; we recognize a corner of the Ducal Palace, the mosaics, and the bronze horses of San Marco. It is only when we descend to the Piaz- zetta, and, standing by the colunm of the winged lion, gaze toward the island of St. George painted on a canvas, twenty feet away, that we realize the complete absurdity of this attempt to apply tight-lacing to the Queen of the Adriatic.
THE EXPOSITION TERMINAL STATION
Once more let us employ the Eiffel Tower as our photo- graphic tripod. We find it convenient ; for although cam- eras are admitted free, there is a tax of five dollars daily for the use of tripods in the grounds. A curious photographic map of the section round the base of the tower was made by pointing the camera directly toward the center of the earth. The vista of the Champ de Mars from the sunnnit, about i,000 feet above the earth, is curious, if not inspiring. A long expanse of grass and gravel stretches between the two extensive lateral palaces, and terminates at the monumental
PARIS EXPOSITION
U
Chateau d' Eaii or the Water Castle, beyond which we see the roof of a tremendous building left over from the Expo- sition of 1889. The Mili- tary School beyond looks like a barrack for toy- soldiers.
Although we may speak of the Palaces of Agri- culture, of Mining, and of Electricity, they are in reality sections of one vast palace in the form of a gigantic letter E. Far more attractive is the same view from a lower story
TIIK COMMN OF THE WINGED LION
of the tower. The long fa- cades of the great buildings assume truer proportions. The fountain begins to assert its magni- tude and dignity, and crowns itself with a colossal diadem ot tiligree uj^on which the? star of hght is balanced like a glit- tering gem, waiting tlie e\eniiig touch of electric rays ; and the chimneys show tht'ir unrivaled altitude.
A FRAGMENT OK SAN MARCOS
314
PARIS EXPOSITION
To stud}' these things at closer range, let us descend to earth in one of the big elevators that glide amid the metal network of the Eiffel Tower. Near the " left hind leg " of the tower stands the entrance to the Palace of Arts, Letters, and Sciences. It illustrates the modern tendency of Gallic architects away from the dignified and beautiful toward the fussy and the frivolous. Masses of delightful detail are
UNDER THE TOWER
lavished on these portals, which are best described as bubble buildings blown for a day. The pendant to this portal is at the angle of the Palace of Mines and Metallurgy. The same seeking after queer, extravagant effects is manifested here. But although our artistic digestion is almost ruined by this overdose of architectural pastry, our palates are continually tickled by new flavors, and we continue to nibble at this pretty but unwholesome gingerbread. Another tempting bite is offered by a slice of decorated layer-cake. It is the
2MUi
PARIS EXPOSITION
317
entrance to the Trans- portation Building. Appropriately the in- terminable balconies under the high arcades are occupied by res- taurants, and on the ground floor there are miles of cafe tables. Behind us is the en- trance to the hall of silks and gowns, in which the art of the weavers of Lyons and the art of the dress- makers of the Rue de la Paix are gloriously represented. The va- rious gowns displayed are indescribably artistic, sinfully costly, and almost too
FUSSY AND FRIVOLOUS
MINES ANn MK1 Al.l.l'KGV
3il
PARIS EXPOSITION
BUBBLE BUILDINGS BLOWN FOR A DAY'
beautiful to wear, but I dare not let you enter, gowns are too absorbing to ladies — we should not be permitted to resume our promenade. Moreover, man should not attempt to talk of dresses, and mere photographs could not do justice to the
vestments of the wax- en goddesses, c o n - fined in the glass cases of Felix, Worth, Pa- quin, and other mas- ters of the daintiest and most ephemeral of arts.
Therefore we must drown our disappoint- ment in the Agricul- tural Palace, where the Temple of Cham- pagne offers unusual facilities for submerg- ing sorrows in the
AKTS, LKTTKKS, AND SCIKNCKS *-"
PARIS EXPOSITION
319
IKANSl'DR 1 A ri(.
sparkling vintage of the Province of the Grape j>ar cxccl- lc)?cc. It may be suspected that the architect of this hilarious pavilion subsisted on the produce of the vine while working out the details of his plan. On the main floor and balcony are grapevines and arbors and plaster figures of sturdy, hard- working peasants ; these typify the cause. High above are popping corks, brim- ming glasses, and a plastic saturnalia, all of which illustrates with fearful vividness the inevitable effect. So, fleeing from temp- tation, let us embark upon a mediaeval car- avel, a reproduction of the vessel tiiat imported to France from the Indies the
IN I 1- KMINAIll.l (.Al I I KII5S
120
PARIS EXPOSITION
SILKS AND GOWNS
first samples of cocoa, and thus gave rise to the grow- ing chocolate industry.
The greater part of the agricultural section is dedicated to the bibulous god, Bacchus. Every vine-producing region has erected here a replica of some chateau or castle, the
A FiAfK-DOOR Ol' IIIK I'iXlV )Sn ION
PARIS EXPOSITION
321
name of which appears on every wine hst in the world. We are at first surprised to learn that Burgundy, Bor- deaux, Champagne, Medoc, Margaux, and Cognac are places, and not merely wines. We have never fully realized that there are people who actually live in Champagne, bathe in Bordeaux, and go to bed in Cognac. Beyond
A MONI-MENIAL i lllMNl-,\
and behind this aggregation of quaint structures, which we des- ignate "Alcohol- opolis, " rise the f a 9 a d e s of the enormous festal hall, the Salle des Fetes, a mar- velous triumph of the structural and decorative arts.
It is one of
the marvels of the
Exposition. A
sky of glass hangs
21
CHAMl'AC.N
322
PARIS EXPOSITION
DAIRN' [■Rcilll (K
over the wooden tlesert of a lloor, so vast that we almost hesitate to venture out upon it. P'our tribunes, broad as moun- tain slopes, rise in the four corners, a n d a stairway like a terraced f^lacier pours a tlood of steps down through an intervening" v a 1 - ley. The colors of the sunset and the sunrise glow ni t h e pictured
U I l.TTKAI. Sl-C rioN
From photograph, copyrij^lii i v^ II. Kau. Phila.
A STRUCTURAL MAk\ 1:L
PARIS F.XFOSITION
325
SPANISH ACRICl'LTURAL SECTION
cent, opalescent columns, serve as
skies of hif^h-set mural decorations, and the glare of noon falls in a shaft of brilliance from the crystal zenith. There are statues and paintings sulBcient to equip a gallery of art lost in the vastness of this Sallc de Fetes. Mounting the monu- mental stairway, the visitor enters the Hall of Electrical illusions, fit throne-room for a fairy queen. The six surrounding arches, supported by translu- frames for six gigantic
1. Sl-ITION
.^26
PARIS EXPOSITION
mirrors, each reHectinj^ the retlectioiir. of the other, until the ilhisioii of measureless vastness holtis the spectator spell- houiui. M\'erv second the colors change. Arches of smolder- ing blue Hare out in iiery red ; the soft green of the columns turns to golden \ellow ; or the dim sih'ery glimmer of the festooned pearls suddenly hursts into a dazzling glare like that of molten metal. This is the signal for an e.xplosion of lununosity that fairl\" stuns our optic nerves. It is as if a
universe of tiny noonday suns had suddenly enveloped us. This magical apartment serves as a vestibule of honor to the S(il/c (/(' J^^e/cs, on the
PARIS EXPOSITION
32;
" ALCOHOI.OPOLIS
occasion of official ceremonies, such as the Presentation of the Awards and Medals. On fes- tal d a y s troops line the b r o a d avenue of the Champ de Mars, and present arms as statesmen, (hjj- lomats, princes, and presidents ap- proach the en- trance. No less than 20,000 spec- tators Hnd seats within the S(i//c dc Fetes on these
11.1.1 sioss
328
PARIS EXPOSITION
AWAll 1N(. M. nUBKT
occasions ; other scores of thousands were kept at a respect- ful distance by a large contingent of the garrison of Paris. The crowning architectural feature of the Champ de Mars is the Chateau d' Eau ; behind it rises the fa9ade of the
11 \ I i-.\i ij I. a;
PARIS EXPOSITION
329
Pdhiis dc r Elcciriritc, with its diadem of steel and ^lass, above which, balanced like the chief jewel of a tiara, gleams the Star of Electricity. The Palace of Electricity was the soul of the Exposition ; from it went forth along the myriad, endless nerves of wire the thrills that gave it life and light and motion. Yet without water there would be no steam, no powder, and no electricity. The fountain, therefore, is not wholly ornamental ; the waters of the jets, cascades.
WATKR CASTLE "
and pools, flowing in such graceful wastefulness, will return to serve a serious utilitarian purpose in the boilers of the great machinery hall. At night multitudes gather in the Champ de Mars, awaiting the spectacle of the illumination of the "Water Palace " and the " I'ire Palace." .V siiddi'ii burst of brilliance and we behold the apotheosis of electricity. The terraced pools within the grotto are rininu'd with lines of fire, over which flow cascades of licpiid llanir. The jew-
330
PARIS EXPOSITION
eled diadem stands out a.^aiust the sky like a tiara of opals upon a backj^Tound ot black \el\et. The Genius of Elec- tricity, guiding her snowy horses, appears to have come rushing- through the night, followed by an incandescent star, until, smitten by a shaft of white light shot from the Eiffel Tower s top, she has reined in her rearing' steeds, and, with her attendant planet, alig-hted on the crest of this colossal
>K- \ A I 1-. Dl
rrnm phntojjraph. mpyrig-ht iqoo. In* Win. H. kiui. IMiiln.
riiK ('RowMNc I'l-.A'n'Ri-: ()}' ri!i: fii ami* i>i- mars
PARIS EXPOSITION
333
\DES AND JETS
coronet of fire. But no words can describe these changing lights and pulsing waves of color. We say that the crown is brilliant with the glare of rubies ; and, ere the words are said, ^^^SsSmS^^-..-^ the rubies are transformed into
sapphires. The emeralds that a moment since gleamed
334
PARIS i:xF()srri()x
through the become yellow dia- monds or pinkish ))fai"ls.
But always a n d unvaryingly white as marble, the Electric |^ Spirit rules her pranc- ing steeds and holds
the beacon star, like i
f a fixed planet high r
above the chaotic riot K
ot color. Meantime I
the rainbows, arching |
in the spray, play I
Beethoven svmpho- I
nies ; in the grotto t
strong color masses
build up Wagnerian
themes ; and, h i g h
above, the -^lowinii
f n
% .1
f
^L^L
,••". hv Will. II K, AN I II UIAI. l.l•:^SI•.KS
PARIS EXPOSITION
harps and lyres are touched by liery fingers and give forth the dainty tripping melodies of Mozart. And the eye listens to tiiis color DiiisiCy finding in it a new sensation, a new pleas- ure, and a promise of an art for which as yet there is no name. l'>ut the art of color-nmsic is not new, the western skies iiaw practiced it for ages. The clouds and mists and the ether and the sunshine have i)iayed an evening color symphony at
IKI. CDNSI i:i 1, A I ION \NI> \ I Kl-r Ml.l' l> IKMKT
336
PARIS EXPOSITION
the close of every day since the old earth was born. The crowds, however, like children, prefer the artificial to the real. Spectators, who have looked unmoved upon thr. glories of the western skies, turn, with ecstatic admiration, to those chromatic harmonies, waked by the magical musician of the future, — Electricity !
We stand upon the threshold of the Age of Electricity — the Age of Light.
The Uni\'ersal Exposition of Paris commemorates the close of the nineteenth century, the Age of Steam. x\nd as we look by night upon the Wonder-City of 1900, we see the Eiffel Tower, ablaze with electrical incandescence, pointing like a prophetic finger toward a radiant future — a future in which the Light of Science and the Light of Knowledge shall be universal — a ^^^ ^^^ future which shall
have no dark- ^^^ ^^ ness upon the
earth, nor > ,^n, Jfj^ * aJU^I^^^ shadows in
the lives .^I^^Hlr > V ^^ I'-il^^^^^BL of
DENMARK
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