Historians attach some antiquarian importance to the village of St. Cloud, it being historically confounded with the earliest times of the French monarchy; for, from the beginning of the first race, the kings of France had a country-seat here.[5]

    [5] For an engraving and account of the Palace of St. Cloud, see
    MIRROR, vol. ii. page 225.

I now reached the bridge of St. Cloud, an elegant modern structure which crosses the Seine, near the entrance to the village.  Here the river loses much of its importance; and in summer, the steam-boats are not unfrequently delayed in their voyage (if it may be so designated) for lack of water.  The prospect of the chateau, or palace, embosomed in trees, and the park variegated with natural and artificial beauties, with the adjoining village on a steep, shelving hill—­is unusually picturesque.  On the present occasion, however, the principal attraction was the fete, which reminded me more forcibly of John Bunyan’s Vanity Fair, than any other exhibition I had ever witnessed.

The entrance to this motley scene was by the principal gate, where the carriages set down their company, and at a short distance along the bank of the river, the steam-boat in like manner contributed its visiters.  On entering the park, I was first struck with a long row of boxes, (somewhat in the style of those at Vauxhall) but on a raised bank, and attached to a restaurateur.  Here were tables for dinner, and as many others were laid in the open air—­with the usual carte of 2 or 300 articles, and the economical elegancies of silver, napkins, and china, and this, too, in style little inferior to Verey’s in the Palais Royal.  Promenaders of the better description appeared in the mall, or principal walk, and it being the last fete of the season, their attendance was very numerous.  The stalls and exhibitions were chiefly on the left side of this walk; at the former was displayed an almost indescribable variety of wares, which were the adjudged prizes in a lottery; but, from the decisions which I witnessed, they resembled the stationary capitals in an English scheme—­the nominal Stock in trade of the office-keepers.  Many of these little gambling shops were superintended by women, who proved themselves far from deficient in loquacious inducements for adventurers; and by their dexterous settlement of the chances, left little time for losers to reflect on their folly.  Provisions of various descriptions were to be purchased at every turn, and among their marchands, it was not incurious, to see some humble professors of gastronomy over smoking viands, fritters, and goffers or indented wafers baked on cast-iron stoves a la minute—­it must be owned, unseasonable luxuries for a September day.  The spectacles, or shows, in noise and absurdity, exceeded the English trumpery of that order; and to judge from the gaping crowds which they attracted, we are not the only credulous nation in