Paris from the Earliest Period to the Present Day. Volume 2

Gardiens de la Paix is now the official title of the efficient Paris policemen, who were formerly known as Sergents de Ville, under which title their corps was organized in 1829. Modified in their organization in 1848 and in 1859, they were disbanded on the memorable 4th of September, 1870. Like the firemen, they are all soldiers, and in case of war rejoin their respective corps. From the point of view of the police, Paris is divided into four great divisions, each including a certain number of arrondissements, and having at its head a Chef. Under the orders of the Commissaires are placed the twenty-five Officiers de Paix, and the Inspecteurs Principaux, their substitutes; next in rank come the Brigadiers, a hundred in number, then the eight hundred and eighty Sous-Brigadiers and the seven thousand one hundred agents.

A sufficiently high standard is set for the recruits to this force,—they must be in the enjoyment of all their civil rights, have their papers perfectly correct, have been a soldier, not be more than thirty years of age (thirty-five, if they have served ten years under the colors), and be at least a mètre, seventy centimètres, in height. They must have a knowledge of orthography, and an excellent physical condition. After twenty-five years of service, in which is included that in the army, they are entitled to be retired on a pension of half-pay, calculated on the average payment of their last three years of service. Rewards are provided for special acts of courage or devotion, arrest of a dangerous criminal, stopping a runaway horse, extinguishing a fire, etc.; after three such proofs of bravery, duly certified by procès-verbaux, they are proposed for one of the four medals of honor, of which two are in gold and two in silver. The State is by no means chary in the distribution of decorations and medals to those who serve it, and very many of these agents wear from one to four of these highly-prized tokens, military and other, on their breasts. On their capes and tunics are also embroidered in silver the number of their arrondissement in Roman letters and their own, in figures. In stormy weather, they pull the pointed hood of their capes over their heads, which gives them a very picturesque appearance; and in summer, they all appear in white trousers, as do the postmen. They have recently been furnished with white bâtons, much smaller than a New York policeman's club, which at first gave great amusement to the easily-amused loungers on the boulevards, but which are very efficient in arresting street traffic when held in the air.

As at present organized, the force is divided into twenty-six brigades, one for each arrondissement and six companies, known as the reserve, formerly the brigades centrales. There are four posts in each arrondissement, each of which is provided with a litter, mattress, and appliances for aid to the injured, and the men are all instructed in the first treatment of injuries, while waiting for the surgeon. All these posts are united by telegraph with the central offices in the Mairies, and these communicate directly with headquarters in the Rue de la Cité. There are also supplemental posts established in the kiosques of the carriage-stands; one agent looks after the cabs, and another is at the service of the public. In each arrondissement, a certain number patrol in civilian costume, to keep an eye on the street-vendors and to suppress prostitution. The evening service of theatres and concerts is furnished by the reserve companies and the carriage brigade; this is supplied without costs for the theatres, but the concerts pay one franc for each gardien de la paix, and a franc and a half for a brigadier. These payments are all turned into a common fund, which, every three months, is divided among the force. For those who have been killed while on duty, the city of Paris has erected in the Montmartre cemetery a monument, on which their names are engraved.

Although its functions, strictly speaking, are confined to the pursuit and punishment of misdemeanors and crimes, the Paris police occupies itself with a great number of other affairs that tend to enhance the comfort and security of the citizen. In the cabinet of the Préfet, a vast number of delicate affairs are treated with the utmost discrimination; the Commissaires render daily numerous services of this kind to the public. Very many disputes which would otherwise be brought before the Juge de Paix are settled before a Commissaire, without cost and with a great saving of time. A tenant summons before this officer his landlord who refuses to allow him to move out on the pretence that he has not paid his rent; the case is argued before the police magistrate, and a judgment rendered which is accepted as final. Two persons quarrel in the street and come to blows; instead of being arrested and brought before the tribunaux correctionnels, they are conducted before the Commissaire, where one of them admits his error and apologizes. A jeweler confides a quantity of precious stones to a trusted agent to dispose of, but afterward has reasons to believe that the salesman is meditating flight; if he carry his case to the Tribunal de Commerce, the delays will give the other ample time to abscond. But if he cause him to be brought to the Commissariat of police, the chances are that he will recover his property and that the culprit will depart admonished and repentant. A married couple are on the point of disagreeing, and applying for a divorce; this useful official summons them before him, listens to their explanations and accusations, delivers to them a moral lecture, and effects a reconciliation. The search for a missing spouse—whether he or she be really wanted by the abandoned partner, or whether the latter cherish secret hopes that the search be fruitless, so that the divorce may be obtained—is one of the most frequent charges of this confidential police. Those parents who cruelly treat their children, those dissipated sons of families who will not listen to parental admonition, are summoned before the Commissaire and speedily brought to reason.

Le Service de Sûreté is enabled by its organization to assure protection to persons menaced. "For example, you receive a letter threatening trouble at the ceremony of your marriage, at the church or the Mairie; carry that letter to the Chef de la Sûreté, Quai des Orfèvres. He will place on the watch inspectors to whom he will give a description of the author of the threat. This service is completely gratuitous. It is not so for that which consists, we will say, in watching over the display of wedding-presents. If you want some inspectors to mount guard in your salon, so that you may not be robbed, you must pay them. They have, in fact, under these circumstances, to meet the expenses of dress which are not provided for in their budget." La Sûreté will also place at your disposal, for any legitimate purpose, retired inspectors who have served their twenty-five years, and who will shadow any one whom you have cause to suspect, for ten francs a day and expenses, who will guard banks, or villas, or travellers with valuable luggage, or assume the duties of a concierge. All these official services rendered to individuals must be with the consent of the Procureur de la République and the Préfet de Police, the Sûreté acting only under the orders of these two officials.

Paris, in fact, may be said to be a very well-policed city,—the police regulations are intelligent, and cover all those points in which the safety, or comfort, or peace of mind of the majority of well-meaning citizens may be menaced or disturbed by the inconsiderate action of individuals, and yet these strict ordonnances, which might become harsh or tyrannical, are generally administered with discretion and—in the case, for example, of the peripatetic vendors of vegetables, the marchands and marchandes des quatre-saisons—with due consideration for the difficulties of the poor. Great care is taken to assure the free circulation in the streets, with one very important exception,—the householder must not deposit any garbage, or mud, or broken bottles on the sidewalk, he must wash his shop-windows only between certain hours in the morning, he must not beat nor shake carpets out the window nor in the streets, he must not put his flower-pots in the windows where there is any danger of their falling on the passer-by, he must not keep domestic animals in such numbers or of such a kind as to be disagreeable to his neighbor, he must not burn coffee, nor card the wool of his mattresses, on the public highway, and he must not set out chairs or tables on the sidewalk. This last regulation, however, is practically a dead letter, all the cafés, big and little, on the wide trottoirs of the boulevards and on the two-foot sidewalks of the narrow streets, monopolize from a half to three-fourths of the pavement for pedestrians. The latter file along cheerfully on the curb-stone, or turn out in the street altogether, and make no protest. In the poorer quarters, a great number of domestic occupations and maternal cares are transferred to the street in front of the dwelling; in fact, the fondness of the French for out-of-doors is one of their most striking characteristics. The women and young girls will sit sewing or knitting in the streets or the public parks, and the men at the open-air tables of the cafés, in the wettest and rawest of days, and the women of the lower orders, concierges, workwomen, small shopkeepers, etc., constantly go with their heads uncovered. This healthy hankering of all classes for the open air contrasts very strongly with their imbecile terror of fresh air, or courants d'air, in a closed vehicle or under a roof.

One of the most complete departments of the Préfecture de Police is that of the sommiers judiciaires, in which are preserved the fiches or records of every person brought before the tribunals, giving his name, age, place of birth, etc., and the date, the cause, and the nature of his sentence. The récidivistes, the hardened offenders, have each a regular bulletin, sometimes a variety of fiches if they have various aliases. These archives of crime are contained in thousands of boxes, filling a number of rooms, and are constantly consulted; their inspection is strictly forbidden to private individuals. This bureau contains records, systematically arranged, of all the sentences pronounced by the courts and the civil and military tribunals of France; the number of ordinary bulletins exceeds eight millions. In addition to these judicial archives, the Préfecture de Police preserves a personal record of every prominent personage. Less closely connected with affairs of State, the bureau of lost articles is more appreciated by the public; it was opened in 1804, but became generally known only after 1848. The number of these objects found in the streets and public places and deposited here has exceeded twenty-six thousand, and every one of them is carefully numbered, catalogued, and ticketed. After remaining here till all attempts to find the rightful owner have failed, they may be restored to the inventeur, the finder, on his demand, after a period of three months for garments, furs, and woollen stuffs, of six months for other articles capable of deterioration, umbrellas, books, and opera-glasses, and of a year for all others.

THE first well-organized attempt to light the streets of Paris at night seems to have been made under Louis XIV. The Abbé de Caraffe had previously undertaken to establish a force of link-boys and torch-bearers, but the bureau which he opened in the Rue Saint-Honoré was soon closed, to the great regret of the honest bourgeois who scarcely dared to stir out of his house after dark without a lantern. Thieves abounded, and even the lackeys of good houses, sword in hand, made a practice of insulting and striking the unlucky commoner who fell in their way. The lieutenant of police, La Reynie, undertook to establish a regular system of illumination,—at the end of each street and in the middle, he hung an iron and glass lantern, some two feet in height, enclosing a candle weighing a hundred and twenty-five grammes, the whole suspended from a rope, and hoisted and lowered by means of a pulley. The malicious breaking of these lanterns was punished by the galleys. This illumination at first was given only from the 1st of November to the 1st of March, but later, an ordinance of May 23, 1671, extended the period from the 20th of October to the 1st of April, and, still later, it was lengthened to nine months, with the exception of the week in which the moon shone. For the period of six months, the cost was a million and a half of francs, it is said.

This innovation excited universal enthusiasm. The king was so well pleased with it, that he caused a medal to be struck bearing the inscription: "Urbis securitas et nitor [security and lighting of the city]." In a passage in Saint-Evremoniana, we find: "The invention of lighting Paris during the night by an infinity of lamps is worthy of attracting the most distant peoples to come and contemplate that which the Greeks and the Romans never imagined for the policing of their republics. The lights, enclosed in glass lanterns suspended in the air at an equal distance from each other, are arranged in an admirable order and give light all the night; this spectacle is so handsome and so well planned, that Archimedes himself, if he were still living, could add nothing more agreeable and more useful."

As late as the end of the eighteenth century, the vegetable and animal oils and fats furnished the only means of artificial illumination. The tallow-candle dates from the eleventh century, and was an humble partner for the much more aristocratic wax taper. In 1791, Philippe Lebon commenced a series of experiments upon the extraction from wood of a gas for illuminating purposes; and in the following year, Murdoch, in England, succeeded in extracting it from pit-coal. A manufactory of gas, constructed by the Comte de Chabrol, served to light the Hôpital Saint-Louis, in 1818; and, two years later, another furnished illumination for the Palais du Luxembourg and the Odéon. Chevreul's experiments in the saponification of fatty substances and the extraction of oleic, stearic, and margaric acids, undertaken in 1823, led to the manufacture and general use of stearic candles by 1831. In the previous year, the introduction of mineral oils and petroleums had begun; the very extensive importation of the coal-oil of Pennsylvania commenced in 1859, and has been supplemented of recent years by that of the produce of the oil-wells of the Caucasus. Both these are largely imported in the crude state, and are distilled and refined in France. The huile de colza, extracted from the colewort, is still very largely used, and is an excellent oil for lamps; and acetylene is beginning to take the place of coal-gas as an illuminator.

When the permanent street-lamps, burning oil, replaced the ancient lanterns and candles in the streets of Paris, they excited as much admiration as the latter had done. "The very great amount of light which they give," said the lieutenant of police, M. de Sartines, "forbids us to believe that anything better can ever be found." The introduction of gas excited much opposition, as late as 1830; the householders feared to be asphyxiated by sulphuretted hydrogen and adopted the new method with much hesitation. Philippe Lebon was assassinated on the Champs-Élysées on the evening of the coronation of Napoleon I, and his invention, "as is usually the case, made the tour of Europe before returning to benefit France,—the first companies that undertook to work his invention were managed by foreigners, Winsor, Pauwel, and Manley-Wilson." The five or six rival companies that furnished gas to the city, united in 1855 in one corporation, the Compagnie parisienne d'éclairage et de chauffage par le gaz. At present, the Compagnie du Gaz delivers it to private houses within the city at an average price of thirty centimes the cubic mètre, and at varying prices in the suburbs. It cannot refuse to furnish it to any subscriber, but it has the right of demanding that payments be made in advance.

Much apprehension was at first excited in the neighborhood of the companies' works by the enormous metal tanks, or reservoirs, until, as is related, an Englishman, named Clegg, one day went up to one of these huge gasometers, drove a hole through the side, and applied a lighted candle to the aperture. The escaping gas burned in a steady jet, as from a burner, but did not explode. At the opening of the siege of Paris, General Trochu was alarmed at the possibility of one of these gasometers in the suburbs being exploded by a German shell and destroying the ramparts in its vicinity; the Conseil de Défense, having communicated these apprehensions to the gas company, were assured by the latter that the reservoirs would not explode, even though pierced by a projectile. This statement was soon verified; at the works at Ivry, one of the enemy's shells fell through one of the iron cloches,—a long sheaf of fire rose in the air, and was extinguished within a few minutes. At La Villette, a shell burst inside the tank, but the gas escaped without any further damage. It was the latter usine that furnished the means of inflating the balloons that, for so long a time, constituted the city's only method of communication with the outside world.

If the municipality was somewhat slow in adopting the use of gas for its streets, it claims to be the first to have introduced that of electricity. This new method of illumination appeared in 1876, and in the following year the Avenue de l'Opéra was lit up by the Jablochkoff system. In England, the use of electricity for lighting public streets and dwellings was inaugurated in the town of Godalming in 1881; and in America, in New York, in 1882. The Place du Carrousel followed the Avenue de l'Opéra, using sixteen Mersanne lights; experiments were made in the Parc Monceau with fourteen arc lights, and in the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont with fifty arc lights and seventy-nine incandescent. The tragic burning of the Opéra-Comique, in May, 1887, gave a great impulse to the adoption of the new method in preference to the use of gas, and the city north of the Seine was divided into five secteurs, each furnished by its own electrical company. This method still prevails, the number of secteurs having been increased to seven, one for the left bank of the river, and the different companies hold their concessions for the space of eighteen years. The unit of measurement is the hectowatt-heure, the price of which ranges from ten to fifteen centimes, whilst in other cities, according to statistics of November, 1897, it ranged from five to seven centimes in Brussels, from six to seven in London, and at about seven and a half in Berlin.

This excessive price has had the natural result of curtailing the use of electricity as an illuminator; and the usual thrifty habits of the French householder and municipality contribute to make the capital anything but a well-lighted city at night,—contrary to the general impression. The stranger who leaves the main boulevards and enters any of the minor streets, even such a wide and important one as the Boulevard Saint-Germain, is struck with the village darkness of these thoroughfares. Not only is there no other means of illumination generally but the street-lamps burning gas, which are sufficiently widely spaced,—and, in the case of the boulevard just mentioned, masked by trees,—but all the house-fronts are tightly closed and as black as night. One may cross the Place Vendôme, five minutes from the Opéra, in the middle of the evening in the middle of the season, and have barely light enough to avoid other pedestrians. All around the great circle the houses show no gleam of light in their windows, with two or three exceptions, and the effect is anything but cheerful. In this Place, as in so many localities in Paris, the pedestrians take to the middle of the streets,—in the wide thoroughfares, to cross them, or to avoid détours, and in the narrow ones, because of the insufficiency of sidewalks,—and good eyesight becomes of the utmost importance. Fortunately, the cabs and carriages all carry double lanterns, and even the bicyclers, those terrors to foot-passengers, are compelled to show a light of some kind and to sound some kind of warning. Of these, the neat and efficient little lantern and the bell fixed to the handle-bar are not yet in general use,—the French cycler mounts any kind of a lamp, even a paper Venetian lantern, on the front of his machine, and rings a tea-bell, or sounds a small horn, as he dashes along. If he display no consideration whatever for the pedestrian, he, in turn, perils his own neck with the utmost willingness, and the risks he takes in the narrow and crowded streets, and the coolness and skill with which he avoids the fate he so justly deserves, are equally remarkable.

In the summer of 1898, the discussion concerning the deficient éclairage électrique, periodically revived, took on new animation in view of the approaching Exposition of 1900 and the admitted inferiority of Paris in this respect to other cities. The question was brought up in the Conseil Municipal in the spring; the various companies made a proposition to modify their contracts with the city and to effect a considerable reduction in their price, as much as twenty-five or thirty-five per cent, to individual consumers, in return for a prolongation of their contracts to 1930,—the present ones expiring in 1907 and 1908. This prolongation, they said, would allow them to assume the heavy expense of establishing new plants, and extending their wires, while at the same time reducing the price,—the near approach of the end of the present contracts restraining them from doing either in view of the necessity of securing a speedy return upon the capital already invested. The municipal councillors replied with another proposition,—to maintain the status quo until the expiration of the present contracts, and then, in some ten or fifteen years, when the condition of the municipal finances would permit, to establish three great compagnies fermières, which should furnish both gas and electricity at a very moderate price, to be set by the Conseil itself. The objections to this plan were set forth very freely,—in the first place, it prolonged an intolerable situation, and just at the moment when the capital was inviting all the world to visit her. In the second place, nothing is more doubtful than the future,—it is quite possible that in the course of fifteen years electricity may be superseded by some other power, as the utilization of the solar heat; if the Municipal Council are so convinced of the excellence of their system, why not put it in practice at once, as they have the power? Moreover, it is very doubtful if the financial condition of the city will be better in 1907 or 1908 than it is at present; it will be necessary at that date, at the expiration of the concessions, to purchase the plants of the companies. The municipal debt, so far from diminishing, has, so far, steadily increased; it is estimated that the city will have to borrow, in these ten years, the sum of four hundred and seventy-five millions of francs,—twenty millions for the conversion of the loan of 1886, forty millions for the water-supply, a hundred and sixty-five millions for the Métropolitan railway, fifty millions for education, and two hundred millions for the opening and maintenance of highways. It is, therefore, highly probable that the municipal control of the electric lighting, so far from bringing any amelioration of the lot of the consumer, will only be considered as another source of municipal revenue, like the State monopoly of tobacco, powder, etc. It is recalled that these monopolies always incite the public administration to draw from them the greatest possible profit,—as in the case of the water-supply, the price of which has doubled since the city has assumed the management of it. One of the immediate results of this augmentation has been a great increase in the number of electric elevators.

In this connection, the experience of the city with the gas company is recalled. In 1888, the Compagnie parisienne du gaz offered to lower the price to twenty-five centimes the cubic mètre for lighting and to twenty for motive power, in return for certain considerations which involved no pecuniary cost to the city. The Conseil Municipal refused this offer. The result was somewhat as follows: in 1888, there were consumed in Paris and in the banlieue, in round numbers, two hundred and ninety-eight millions of cubic mètres of gas, and in 1897, three hundred and fifteen; the average consumption for the period 1888-1898 being thus something over three hundred millions. Consequently, if the terms of the company had been accepted, the consumers would have had to pay in these ten years a hundred and thirty-three million francs less,—and the municipal council had made a present of this sum to the shareholders of the Compagnie du gaz. In the present case, the acceptance of the offer of the electrical companies would involve a reduction in the cost to the consumers, and also to the city, of two or three million francs a year, that is to say, of thirty or forty-five millions for the fifteen years of waiting which are proposed,—supposing, which is not at all probable, that the consumption would not greatly increase with the lowering of the cost. So that, from every point of view, it is considered that the necessity is for immediate reform.