Paris as It Was and as It Is: A Sketch Of The French Capital, Illustrative Of The Effects Of The Revolution

In Short

Written as a series of letters to a friend in London during the fragile Peace of Amiens in 1801–1802, this travel account explores Paris as it transitioned from the chaos of the French Revolution to the structured rule of First Consul Napoleon Bonaparte. Francis William Blagdon guides the reader through the capital's transformed landscape, contrasting the vanished luxuries of the Ancien Régime with a newly emerging order. He tours restored art galleries at the Louvre, attends lavish public spectacles, examines state-of-the-art scientific and military institutions, and observes the daily habits of a population trying to reconcile recent horrors with an appetite for pleasure. The book has endured as an irreplaceable eyewitness record of a pivotal historic moment, capturing the immediate physical, intellectual, and cultural aftermath of a revolution that redefined modern Europe.

The Story

The narrative opens in October 1801 following the ratification of the preliminary treaty of peace between Britain and France. The author departs London, arrives in Calais, and travels across the French countryside toward Paris in the company of a French naval officer. Upon entering the capital after an absence of over a decade, he immediately notices a changed city. The street tumult of earlier revolutionary years has subsided, foot passengers navigate the thoroughfares with greater safety, and liveried servants have disappeared. Yet the cost of living has skyrocketed, with lodging prices nearly doubling since 1789.

Establishing a base in private apartments, the narrator embarks on an exhaustive survey of Parisian public life, culture, and state infrastructure. He begins by examining the grand monuments and art collections that survived or were reshaped by the political upheavals. At the National Palace of Arts and Sciences—the Louvre—he wanders through the Central Museum of the Arts and the Gallery of Antiques. Guided by the observations of the antiquarian Visconti, he surveys classical masterpieces like the Antinoüs of Belvedere, the Egyptian Antinoüs, and statues of Bacchus, reflecting on how revolutionary conquests brought immense artistic treasures into public view. He moves to the Gallery of Apollo, where thousands of master drawings by Raphael, Le Brun, and others—once locked away in royal closets—are displayed in glazed frames for common citizens and aspiring artists alike.

From high culture, the narrative turns to the social life and popular diversions of the city. Attending grand public balls and outdoor festivals celebrating peace, the narrator witnesses the curious blend of classical fashion and popular entertainment. Women dressed à la Grecque dance the newly fashionable waltz, a physical and fast-paced dance that draws both fascination and moral skepticism. At these public gatherings, minor comedy continuously breaks out, such as an eager young gentleman who mounts a tavern barrel to grant his companion a better view of a pantomime, only for the cask head to collapse beneath them.

The author balances these lighter observations with deep dives into the scientific, technical, and institutional revolutions sweeping the republic. He visits chemical demonstrations to inspect the newly invented thermolampes, stoves that burn purified wood gas to yield light and heat without soot or ashes. He details the vast archives of the Dépôt de la Guerre, established under Louvois in 1688 and reorganized to hold thousands of volumes of military correspondence that now feed both tactical planning and historical scholarship. Examining the rise of new military tactics, he watches Bonaparte distribute arms of honor on parade, noting how the Revolution dismantled old noble monopolies on officer ranks, allowing talent from law, art, and trade to command armies.

As he traverses the city's neighborhoods, the narrator documents both old institutions and new civic systems. He critiques state asylums like the Hôtel des Invalides, arguing that institutionalizing wounded veterans creates dreary confinement compared to returning them to their native villages with pensions. He follows the struggles of the constitutional clergy, who convened national councils at Notre-Dame to preserve religious unity before being abruptly suspended by Bonaparte’s Concordat with the Pope. He outlines the newly established four-tiered system of public instruction—Primary Schools, Secondary Schools, Lyceums, and Special Schools—and praises the Polytechnic School, where students under savants like Monge mastered complex sciences in months to supply the republic with skilled engineers.

He explores the dark underbelly and daily mechanics of Paris as well. He examines the city police, tracing its lineage from M. Lenoir to M. Fouché, and reflects on how restrictions on the press fail to suppress human thought. He wanders through the Salpétrière and Bicêtre hospitals, noting the tragic lives of the city's impoverished and its courtesans. He attends the opera and the comedy, offering biting assessments of famous actors like Talma, whose intense, breathy rage captivates audiences despite a lack of classical nobility, and Laïs, a gifted tenor whose past political zeal caused public scandal.

Toward the end of his stay, the author highlights how the Revolution unintentionally modernized French taste and industry. Destitute artists hired themselves out to paper-makers, cabinet-makers, and upholsterers, replacing heavy monarchical furniture with sleek, Etruscan and Attic designs. He observes that despite the trauma of past violence, the French people have adopted a pragmatic philosophy of enjoying the present. Having gathered his detailed accounts of Paris’s transformations, he obtains a passport, bids farewell to his acquaintances, and prepares to return to England.

How It Unfolds

The journey to the capital Setting out from London upon the announcement of peace, the traveler arrives in Calais in October 1801 and secures his passport. Journeying across the French countryside alongside a naval officer, he notes improved agricultural practices before arriving in Paris, where he confronts new turnpikes, custom-house inspections, and doubled lodging costs.

Surviving the political tempest The author reflects on the causes of the 1789 Revolution and the period of total disorganization that followed. He recalls how altars were overthrown, ancient institutions wiped out, and public names altered, leaving a population that felt entirely distinct from its former self.

Masterpieces made public Exploring the Louvre's Central Museum of the Arts, the traveler marvels at the vast display of classical antiquities and master drawings. Statues of Antinoüs, Bacchus, and Euripides stand alongside Raphael’s cartoons, shifted from private royal collections into accessible public galleries.

Inventions and social diversions The narrator investigates Philippe Lebon's thermolampes, which produce clean gas light and heat through small tubes, promising to eliminate traditional chimneys. Turning to social pastimes, he observes the craze for the waltz at Parisian balls and laughs over a comedic mishap involving a spectator stepping through a wooden hogshead.

The machinery of war and honor Visiting the Dépôt de la Guerre, the author reviews vast historic archives that inform modern military strategy. He later attends a grand parade where First Consul Bonaparte personally distributes arms of honor to soldiers, reflecting on how revolutionary armies elevated commanders from the civilian ranks.

A night with a modern gourmet The author dines at the famous restaurant of Beauvilliers, describing the opulent rooms lit by Argand lamps and the majestic presence of Madame Beauvilliers collecting cash on her throne. He contrasts this luxurious dining culture with stories of extreme wealth and eccentric dinner hosts.

Refuges, faith, and public schooling Surveying civic institutions, the narrator criticizes the regimented life of maimed soldiers at the Hôtel des Invalides, recounts the quiet dissolution of the Constitutional Clergy's national council following the new Concordat, and details the republic's structured system of Primary, Secondary, Lyceum, and Special schools.

Stage lights and popular passions Attending the national theaters, the traveler offers sharp critiques of famous performers, including the intense, hollow-voiced tragedy actor Talma and the controversial opera singer Laïs. He notes how fashion, domestic furniture, and interior decor have adopted a refined antique style thanks to unemployed artists entering the trades.

Departure from the republic After collecting detailed notes on Parisian police, literary markets, and public morale, the author secures an English passport. He spends his final day making farewell visits across the city before packing his baggage for the crossing back to Great Britain.

The People

• Francis William Blagdon (The Author) — An inquisitive, observant English traveler who wanders through post-revolutionary Paris with a notebook and a sharp critical eye. He seeks to evaluate the real impacts of the Revolution without ideological hysteria, appreciating French cultural and scientific achievements while maintaining a proud British skepticism toward Parisian moral fashions and police surveillance.
• Napoleon Bonaparte (The Chief Consul) — The quiet, magnetic center of French political and military life. He appears throughout the text as an energetic administrator who restores order, unmasks old monarchical portraits in state buildings, promises financial rewards for scientific breakthroughs, and personally distributes arms of honor to decorated soldiers on parade.
• M. Lebon — An ingenious inventor and engineer whose enthusiasm for technical progress shines in his detailed explanations of the "thermolampe." He envisions a cleaner, more efficient modern city heated and illuminated by piped inflammable gas.
• Visconti — A learned connoisseur and art historian whose expert commentary guides the author through the newly arranged Gallery of Antiques at the Louvre, contextualizing classical statues like the Belvedere Antinoüs and Egyptian sculptures for the public.
• Beauvilliers — A celebrated Parisian restaurateur who maintains an elite culinary establishment inside a grand former hotel. Alongside his wife, who presides over the till like an empress, he delivers refined gastronomy and fine wines to hundreds of daily diners.
• Talma — A renowned French tragic actor who spent part of his youth in London. Ill-proportioned and lacking traditional stage nobility, he nevertheless mesmerizes audiences through terrifying portrayals of rage and horror, utilizing an antique hairstyle and a slow, minced delivery.
• Laïs — The lead tenor at the Paris Opera, possessor of a flexible, graceful voice suitable for lighter operas. His career is shadowed by his past radical political activism, during which he allegedly called for a guillotine on the opera stage.
• M. Fouché — The formidable Minister of Police whose vast network of agents and secret surveillance keeps watch over the capital, maintaining civil order by expanding on the methods of pre-revolutionary police chiefs.
• Monge — A distinguished mathematician and former professor at Mézières who helped establish descriptive geometry and designed the rapid, rigorous curriculum of the Polytechnic School, inspiring hundreds of young scholars amidst political turmoil.

In Its Own Voice

When surveying the sudden, sweeping changes that transformed French society, law, and daily culture after 1789, the author highlights the sheer disorientation felt by those who lived through the upheaval:

In a word, though France was peopled with the same individuals, it seemed inhabited by a new nation, entirely different from the old one in its government, its creed, its principles, its manners, and even its customs.

Describing the technical mechanics of M. Lebon's new gas-heating invention, the text details how inflammable air could easily replace traditional fireplaces across modern homes:

By night, as well as by day, you can have a fire in your room, without a servant being obliged to look after it.

Reflecting on the unexpected artistic gains brought about by economic necessity, the writer explains how unemployed creators reshaped domestic design across Paris:

Many of the French artists, being destitute of employment, were compelled through necessity to seek it; some entered into the warehouse of the upholsterer to direct the shape and disposition of his hangings; some, into the manufactory of the paper-maker to furnish him with new patterns; and others, into the shop of the cabinet-maker to sell him sketches of antique forms.

What It's Really About

Beneath its rich topographical details and travel anecdotes, the book is a sustained meditation on how a society reconstitutes itself after total institutional collapse. The author is deeply occupied with the conflict between political theory and practical human behavior. He investigates how the violence of the Revolution destroyed traditional authorities—the monarchy, the Church, the old nobility—only to yield a complex hybrid state where classical antiquity, military efficiency, and scientific rationalism form the new foundation of public life.

The central argument of the text is that the Revolution, despite its bloody excesses and anarchy, unleashed immense human energy and democratic talent. By stripping away privilege, it forced scientists, artists, and soldiers to innovate out of sheer survival. Technical knowledge was stripped from secret academies and brought into public polytechnic schools; artistic treasures were moved from royal palaces into open museums; military command was opened to commoners of genius.

At the same time, the work addresses the psychological resilience of the Parisian public. Rather than remaining paralyzed by past trauma, the citizens adapt rapidly to the present moment, embracing new pleasures, fashions, and economic opportunities. The author shows that while political systems may fall and rise, the fundamental human drive toward social connection, commercial enterprise, and aesthetic display quickly reasserts itself.

Why Read It Today

Paris as It Was and as It Is offers modern readers an uncommonly vivid, first-hand look at a world historic city in the exact moment between the Reign of Terror and the rise of the Napoleonic Empire. Readers who enjoy primary historical sources, urban histories, or detailed cultural travelogue will find themselves thoroughly absorbed. Blagdon writes with the disciplined curiosity of a sharp journalist, preferring direct observation and specific factual recording over poetic fluff or moralizing outrage.

Reading the work feels like walking through early nineteenth-century Paris alongside a knowledgeable, level-headed companion. One moment you are standing on a street corner watching recruiting officers charm passersby with bags of clinking coin; the next, you are inside a brightly lit restaurant studying the menu, or leaning over a glass display case at the Louvre to inspect original ink drawings by Raphael. The prose is clear, direct, and energetic, filled with concrete descriptions of physical spaces, theatrical performances, and technical inventions.

The book does present a few period difficulties that readers should anticipate. As a collection of detailed informational letters, its structure is encyclopedic rather than narrative-driven, spanning dozens of distinct subjects from public education systems and police regulations to opera singers and gas stoves. Modern readers must also navigate nineteenth-century spelling conventions, untranslated Latin epigraphs, and occasional references to long-forgotten minor actors or regional administrators. Furthermore, the author maintains the distinct perspectives of a British gentleman of his era, occasionally expressing polite horror at French moral laxity or political radicalism. Yet these period attitudes only enhance the text's value as an authentic document, capturing the exact texture of an extraordinary moment in European history.