[John S.] Rock to Frederick Douglass, July 8, 1858
LETTER FROM PARIS
(For Frederick Douglass' Paper.)
HOTEL DUPUYTREN, No. 5 Rue Dupuytren,
Paris, July 8th, 1858
FRIEND DOUGLASS:— Through the kindness of our mutual friend "Communipaw," I avail myself of this opportunity to write to you—wishing you at the same time health and prosperity, and a "God speed" in the noble work
of elevating and emancipating our race.
I had intended on this to give an opinion of the habits, manners and state of society here: but at present I have overworked myself, and am not able to do so— suffice it here to say, that I am much pleased with the people, though, of course I cannot fall in with all their customs.
The French people are remarkable tidy and clean in their persons and dress, but dirty about their houses. The hotels here, however, are generally well conducted, and one may be tolerably comfortable in them.
Speaking of hotels reminds me of the miserable accommodations which a man of color is always obliged to put up with while travelling in America. Indeed, if you except Mr. [Cooper's] boarding house in Boston: Mrs. Babcock's and Mrs. Bell's in New York; Mr. Still's, Mrs. [Reddon's] and Mrs. [Bundey's?], in Philadelphia—there is [scarce] a place to [poke] one's [head].—In coming on from Boston to New York, I had occasion to stop at Mrs. [Bell's], and I exaggerate nothing in saying that her accommodations, attention and politeness, as well as her general desire to please, makes it an object of [resort] for [travelers]. I can say the same of Mr. Cooper's, of Boston. I say this because I have met many young men here who intend visiting America, and wish to know where they will meet with attention and comfort.
I have visited but one public building since my arrival here—the Bibliotheque Imperiale—The collection of books in this large, though by
no [means] handsome building, is immense. It is said to be the largest library on the continent and contains in all about one million and five hundred thousand volumes. It is divided into six sections—
1. The library of printed books.
2. The manuscripts, genealogies, etc.
3. Medals, antique gems, etc.
4. Engravings
5. Maps and globes.
6. The relic and antiqe marbles.
The objects which especially attracted my attention were an admirable [illegible] statue of that old [sinner] [Voltaire]—the specimens of printing from its invention to the present day—of them the most curious are, an Apocalypse, printed from solid blocks of wood, with colored [cuts]— a folio Bible, printed by Guttenberg—an English [translation?] of the [Ars] [illegible], printed by [illegible] in [illegible]—the Chronicles of St. Dennis, printed at Paris in [illegible]—and a [Psalter?], printed at Mentz by Fust and Schoeffer, bearing the date of 1457, being the first book printed with a date.
The Cabinet of Medals, etc., contains about 150,000 medals and coins: many of them are exceedingly rare and unique. The series of Roman coins is very remarkable. In a large glass case is two large carved silver discs: the lesser one, found in the Rhone, near Avignon, is called the shield of Scipio: the larger, found in the Dauphine, is called the shield of Hannibal—two Etruscan vases, found at Agylla, and pre
sented by Prince Torlonia to Louis Phillippe. The collection of manuscripts consists of about 125,000 volumes, in Greek, Latin, French, Oriental, and other languages—a desk standing by itself, in which is a [illegible] manuscript of the 7th century on papyrus—manuscripts of Galilee--the manuscripts of Telemachus, written in Fenelon's own hand—a manuscript of Josephine—besides many curious documents in the Coptic, Persian, Indian, Arabic, Ethiopian, Chinese, Japanese, and other languages. This collection contains over 200,000 maps, charts, views, etc., and is generally open to the public every day: besides, it contains a very large reading room, open to all citizens and strangers with passports from 10 to 4 o'clock.
My time has been entirely absorbed in the medical schools and hospitals. Immediately on
my arrival here, I presented my diploma to the faculty. The result is, I am admitted to all the medical schools and hospitals in the city. I have visited ten hospitals, and witnessed the treatment of seven thousand persons, and have everywhere met with the most cordial welcome.
The idea of living cheap in Paris is "all in your eye." Meals are as dear as in America—I have seen no coffee less than from 25 cents; it ranges from 25 to 60 cents per pound: tea is
from 2 to $3 per lb. If a man lives cheap at these prices, he must live mean. To be sure, if
one can live like a Frenchman, take his yard of bread, cut off a piece, and dip it in his wine, and eat it in that manner, he can live cheap.—But if he drinks tea and coffee, and eats meat, if he won't have to "shovel out the dust," then I am mistaken.
In conclusion, I regret to say to my American friends who are interested in my health, that the operation which I came here to undergo cannot be performed—my disease having gone too far, and is now too complicated. I have consulted the chief surgeons in this city, and as there is no higher authority to appeal to, I must abide their decision. They think I may be very much relieved, perhaps cured, and pledge themselves to do all in their power. To-morrow, at 12 o'clock, Professors [Velpeau?] and [illegible] hold a consultation, when I shall take chloroform, and undergo the final operation, which is the only thing to prevent cancer from setting in: and long ere you receive this, my prospect of life will have been decided. Renewing again my expressions for your welfare, I bid you, as I hope, a temporary farewell.
ROCK.