Paris Correspondence [pp. 267-272]

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Place du Palais Bourbon, upon which we entered
upon leaving my door, and dimly seen by the rare
gas lights which surround the square, rose like a
giant spectre, the colossal plaster figure of Lib erty; and farther on gleamed the bayonet of the
sentinel on duty before the gate of the Palace of
the National Assembly. All was still. But did
all sleep in this vast and populous city? Care
and pain and guilt abound in Paris: and to them
the hours of the night and those of the day are
alike-sleepless! Did the prisoners of Vanvres
sleep!
As we crossed the Place to the hack-stand on
the opposite side, the large clock over the arched
gate-way above the palace struck three. I shall
never forget the awe which amounted almost to
shuddering, with which its solemn tones fell upon
my ear. Perhaps the consciousness of the nature of our elrrand in the deserted streets of
Paris at so unusual an hour contributed to this
effect.
We found the hack-stanid vacant. The sentinel told us that the last coach had left an hour
before.
" There's no hope for it," said Andr6; " you
must go afoot."
"En route!" said I. "Lead the way: I'll
follow you;" and we struck at a round pace up
the rue St. Dominique to the residence of a friend,
for whom I had promised to call. To reach the
rond point at the barri&re de Fontainebleau. whither we were going, we had to traverse nearly the
whole of the city, and thread a quarter whose
reputation is as little enviable as that of any other
of Paris. It abounds in narrow, dark streets;
and teems with the lowest and most turbulent of
the laboring classes. It was one of the principal seats of the insurrection of June, and the last
to yield, before the celebrated fiubourg St. Antoime. Misery and guilt find here their impenetrable hiding places; and crime in all its grades
is of almost daily occurrence. Andre was a denizen of the quartier St. Marcel, and was the first
to allude to its evil reputation, firankly admitting
that it was quite deserved. Andr&'s face, it now
occurred to me, was not the most prepossessing
that might be seen. and I will not assert that it
was with unmixed satisfaction that I regarded
the heavy bludgeon which he bore in his hand and
which he took, he said, at his wife's instance, upon
leaving home two hours before. It was a very
natural association of ideas by which I now
thought of a loaded pistol I had left hanging over
my mantle-piece, and of a stout cane behind the
door. I had not been so provident as Andre;
and it was not because I did not know the way
as well as he that I told him to take the lead and
I would follow. I observed that in all the obscure
anl narrow streets A ndrl kept the middle of the
street. It is from the corners and dark recesses
formed by the gate-ways that the evil-disposed
dart suddenly upon the passer-by and consum mate their purpose of robbery or murder. I es chewed the side-walks with equal care-follow ing hard upon Andr6's heels. It was not, I con fess, without excitement and a certain feeling of
insecurity that I found myself afoot, east of rue
St. Jacques, threading at this dead hour of the
night the ill-famed Quarter of St. Michael. All
was quiet here as in the faubourg St. Germain
which I had just left. A few patroles, a half dozen dimly seen figures flitting hastily by, some
country carts proceeding to market, and two im mense vehicles performing their nightly round to
receive the contents of the sewers, were the
only signs of life that we met with on the way.
At last we gained the broad and gloomy boulevard of St. Jacques. The city walls reared their
dark mass on our right. We had proceeded be neath the deep gloom of the trees, unbroken by
gas-light or lamp, for ten minutes, when Andr6,
who had constantly kept about five steps in advance of us, suddenly turned and said "La voila! Messieurs, nous sommes arrives."
We were now at the barriere de Fontainebleau.
Before us on our right, and on a line with the
city walls were discerned the dusky outline of
two symmetrical buildings. They were connected by a strong and high iron railing. In the
centre of which was one of the gates of the city.
That was the barridre, called of Fontainebleau, or
of Italy, because from it commenced the road
leading from Paris to those places. We had just
entered upon an open circular space in front of
the gate, within the walls, about one hundred
yards in diameter. This was the rond point;
upon which were still making the preparations, of
of the commencement of which Andre had come
to notify me.
In the centre of the road point had been reared
a singular structure, about which, by the light of
numerous torches, the forms of ten or twelve men
were seen busily moving. A large body of troops
were already upon the ground and were now
forming in triple lines around the structure at the
distance of eighteen or twenty feet. We approached. The arrangements were nearly complete. In fifteen minutes more the workmen had
retired.
First there was a platform ten feet square, at
an elevation of five feet.
From the centre of the platform rose two upright posts fifteen feet high and two feet apairt.
They were connected at the top by a cross-piece.
Lower dlown within three or four feet of the platform was another connecting cross-piece formed
by a piece of plank a foot in width, in the lower
part of which was scooped out a semi-circle
From our Parts Correspondent.
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