I 
COUNTRY GENTLEMAN’S COMPANION. 
375 
S August 21. 
j these wretched habitations, and erecting better houses in 
their stead—not in their places —for that would only he 
another form of the evil; but where there were only dark, 
narrow closes before, we now see wide streets, boulevards, 
and Places, with rows of ornamental trees. The changes 
are remarkable; but effects, I apprehend, will he more 
remarkable still. It is not, however, the populous quarters 
of the capital which are the scene of these wonderful and 
, rapid changes ; for though the dwellings of the people and 
j the public thoroughfares are of the first importance, the 
' great utility of fine gardens and pleasure-grounds has not 
been overlooked. 
What the Regent’s Park, Hyde Park, and Kensington 
Gardens are to London, the Bois de Boulogne is to Paris. 
It is situated about half-a-mile beyond the barriere, at the 
western extremity of the capital, and is several miles in 
extent. This is the favourite resort of all classes during the 
summer; and, indeed, no place I have seen has more wild, 
sylvan beauties, or offers more facilities for healthful enjoy¬ 
ment, without, at least, going far from home. The trees 
are chiefly oaks, but they are only of moderate size, very 
seldom attaining anything like venerable or majestic pro¬ 
portions—a circumstance which, I think, is only to be ex¬ 
plained by want of thinning. This wood lias certainly been 
much neglected for a long series of years; but latterly some 
decided improvements have been made, and others are in 
operation. After passing the magnificent Arc de Triompe, at 
the end of the Avenue des Champs Ely sees , you continue in 
the same direction for about half-a-mile, and enter the 
wood by a large iron gateway on the left. Here and there, 
under the trees, are several rustic hotels, or cafes, for the 
accommodation or supply of refreshments for gipsy-parties. 
Further on are groups of children with their parents, enjoy¬ 
ing a game at something like “blind man’s buff,” and 
waking the echoes with their shouts and laughter. Under 
the shade of some wide-spreading branches, and somewhat 
retired from the gaze of impertinent curiosity, about a 
score of demoiselles are delighting their young hearts with a 
waltz, or varsovienne to their own music. In another direc¬ 
tion are some young people, who have managed to tie a cord 
to a branch in the form of a swing, and such fun they are 
getting, while their friends are sitting quietly by on the 
grass enjoying the scene. 
Do you suppose that in these groups the performers are 
all acquainted with one another? This, very likely, is not 
the case; on the contrary, some of them may have never 
-met before, and may never meet again. Yet such is the 
easy, sociable manner of the people, that they are always 
ready to mingle with one another in any innocent amuse¬ 
ment when there is an opportunity. 
But let us pass to the Lake, and the alterations which 
have been made during the last eighteen months. Here 
and there several wide avenues have been opened up, 
and the sides of which have been cleared, sown with grass, 
and planted with fine young evergreens, or deciduous trees 
of an ornamental character. This is evidently going to be 
a very beautiful place by-and-by. The roads, with their 
banks of shrubs, which are kept in the best order, have 
something the appearance of a carriage way leading to a 
gentleman’s mansion in Fmgland. The lake is nearly a 
mile distant from the entrance to the wood, and I should 
think it is fully a mile-and-a-half in length, with an average 
of some sixty yards wide. The ground on each side has 
been laid out with much taste, its principal features being 
gentle mounds and valleys, but always rising considerably 
above the water, which itself takes a great many windings. 
At different points are some clumps of flowering plants 
along the banks, besides numerous scattered groups of trees 
and shrubs. Here and there some masses of rocks and 
large stones are to be seen. But the effect of the latter is 
not very good, and the ground on which they are lying is too 
much like a lawn to be dotted over with large blocks of stone. 
There are, as yet, no trees stretching far out and dipping 
their slender shoots in the water, and none of the trees 
appear likely to assume such a position. But others will, 
i no doubt, be planted in the course of time. As it is, this 
! lake, with the adjoining pleasure-grounds and drives, is 
really beautiful. I have seen nothing to equal it anywhere. 
Except for the fine old trees which cover its banks, the 
Serpentinq is not to be compared to it. 
But what are called the Cascades are not so satisfactory. 
When we see a cascade, we naturally think of the higher 
ground which forms its source. But here the cascade itself 
is the highest point within sight; and when we look round to 
see where this rush of water can come from we are puzzled. 
There is, however, a good waterfall in the Exhibition here 
worked by machinery. It is very like that at the Bois de 
Boulogne, and I cannot help thinking that both are on the 
same principle. Very clever, certainly, if the flatness and 
lowness of the adjoining ground were concealed ; but as it 
is, the trick is too glaring. After all, it is a rare treat for 
the Parisians to see this little counterfeit, with the water 
bubbling and gushing out and bounding away from rock to 
rock, then losing itself in the unruffled lake below. When I 
was standing in the crowd at Versailles while the large 
fountains were playing, I frequently heard such exclama¬ 
tions as “ Magnifique ! ” “Admirable ! ” but at the waterfall 
of the Bois de Boulogne, “ joli,” “ beau,” were the most fre¬ 
quent expressions ; for indeed there is nothing grand or mag¬ 
nificent about it; but it is full of that quiet, simple beauty 
which has an empire in every heart. 
The Rockwork itself is composed of large blocks of stone, 
and, for the most part, the fissures have been carefully 
closed up with cement; so that there are few nooks or 
recesses for the growth of Ferns and other plants suitable for 
such a place. 
It is but fair to say, that though the waterfall, which I 
saw in play, seemed to be the result of machinery, there is, 
at least, another which is more natural, being caused by the 
overflow of a second lake on the other side of the drive ; but 
this overflow is, I suppose, only occasional, and chiefly in 
rainy weather. 
No one is allowed to go on the grass, except at a consider¬ 
able distance from the lake and carriage ways ; but there is 
no lack of fine walks. Yet people will persist in their pre¬ 
ference for the green grass; and the officers, or park- 
keepers on duty are kept busy enough in rectifying mistakes 
in this way, for as yet the rules and regulations are not 
standing orders. But the iron pillars have been erected, 
and the sign plates have had a first coating of paint. 
At some little distance, and right under the trees which 
skirt the wood, crowds of well-dressed people are sitting 
and lying on the grass ; some of them talking and laughing, 
but the greater number, perhaps, are wrapt in the sanctity of 
their own thoughts, or contemplating the grandeur and 
beauty of the scene before them—happy in gazing where 
nothing fatigues the eye — happier in thinking where no¬ 
thing vexes the spirit. 
In one or two places islands have been formed and rustic 
bridges erected. An ornamental pagoda is also in course of 
construction, near the falls ; and a covered barge plies from 
one end of the lake to the other. 
But the Bois de Boulogne is not half finished. In a few 
years more it will be the most charming place of the kind 
in Europe. At the further extremity of the lake, or rather 
at some little distance beyond it, and about a mile-and-a- 
lialf from the waterfall, the ground rises gradually, and 
when the summit is attained, there is a delightful view of 
the country all round to the distance of perhaps ten miles, 
or, at least, as far as the.eye can reach. This is something 
in the way of Hampstead Heath, and equally fine ; but here 
woods and plantations are perhaps more frequent. The 
Chateau and grounds of St. Cloud are within a distance of 
three miles, and many private mansions peep out, here and 
there, from the dense masses of foliage which fill up the 
scene. In the hollow, and concealed among the noble old 
oaks and elms which line its banks, the beautiful river 
Seine flows quietly along. This is the diverging point of 
several roads, the principal of which are those leading to 
St. Cloud and Paris; ancl the greater part of the distance, 
nearly seven miles, is within the limits of the Bois de Bou¬ 
logne. These roads are kept in excellent order, and the 
walk on the lawn under the trees at the side is very pleasant. 
Many people come to this eminence, in fine weather, to view 
the beautiful landscape around them. A sort of light sum¬ 
mer-house has been erected, and an easy chair may be had 
for one or two sous. 
ST. CLOUD. 
The Chateau de St. Cloud, according to general opinion 
