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Matilda Betham-Edwards - East of Paris
A strikingly beautiful city, sad of aspect withal, is this ancient capital of Lorraine, ever wearing half
mourning, as it seems, for the loss of its sister Alsace.
Unforgettable is the glimpse of the Place Stanislas, with its bronze gates, fountains, and statue, worthy of
a great capital; of the beautiful figure of Duke Antonio of Lorraine on horseback, under an archway of
flamboyant Gothic; of the Ducal Palace and its airy colonnade; lastly, of the picturesque old city gate, the
Porte de la Crafie, one of the most striking monuments of the kind in France.
All these things may be glanced at in an hour, but in order to enjoy Nancy thoroughly, a day or two
should be devoted to it, and creature comforts are to be had in the hotels.
In the Ducal Palace are shown the rich tapestries found in the tent of Charles le Temeraire after his defeat
before Nancy, and other relics of that Haroun-al-Raschid of his epoch, who bivouacked off gold and
silver plate, and wore on the battle-field diamonds worth half a million. The cenotaphs of the Dukes of
Lorraine are in a little church outside the town - the chapelle ronde, as the splendid little
mausoleum is designated, its imposing monuments of black marble and richly-decorated octagonal dome,
making up a solemn and beautiful whole. Graceful and beautiful also are the monuments in the church
itself, and those of another church, des Cordeliers, close to the Ducal Palace.
Nancy is especially rich in monumental sculpture, but it is in the cathedral that we are enchanted by the
marble statues of the four doctors of the church - St. Augustine, St. Gregoire, St. Leon, and St. Jerome.
These are the work of Nicholas Drouin, a native of the town, and formerly ornamented a tomb in the
church of the Cordeliers just mentioned. The physiognomy, expression, and pose of St. Augustine are
well worthy of a sculptor's closest study, but it is rather as a whole than in detail that this exquisite statue
delights the ordinary observer.
All four sculptures are noble works of art; the beautiful, dignified figure of St. Augustine somehow takes
strongest hold of the imagination. We would fain return to it again and again, as indeed we would fain
return to all else we have seen in the fascinating city of Nancy.
From Nancy, by way of Epinal, we may easily reach the heart of the Vosges.
CHAPTER XX. IN GERMANISED LORRAINE.
At the railway station of Nancy, I was met by a French family party, my hosts to be in a chateau on the
other side of the French frontier.
We had jogged on pleasantly enough for about half an hour, when the gentlemen of the party, with (to
me) perplexing smiles, briskly folded their newspapers and consigned them, not to their pockets or rugs,
but to their ladies, by whom the journals were secreted in underskirts.
"We are approaching the frontier," said Madame to me.
I afterwards learned that only one or two French newspapers are allowed to circulate in the annexed
provinces, the Temps and others, the names of which I forget; for the first and second offence of
smuggling prohibited newspapers, the offender is subjected to a reprimand, the third offence is punished
by a fine, the fourth involves imprisonment. Now, as all of us know who have lived in France, the
Figaro is a veritable necessity to the better-off classes in France, the Times to John Bull not
more so. Similarly, to the peasant and the artisan, the Petit Journal takes the place of the
half-penny newspaper in England. This deprivation is cruelly felt, and is part of the system introduced by
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