When in July, 1826, Cooper landed in England with his wife and family,
he carried his Indian memories and associations with him. They crossed
to France, and ascended the Seine by steamboat, and then settled for a
time in Paris. Of their quarters there in the Rue St. Maur, Sarah
Fenimore Cooper writes:

"It was thoroughly French in character. There was a short, narrow,
gloomy lane or street, shut in between lofty dwelling houses, the lane
often dark, always filthy, without sidewalks, a gutter running through
the centre, over which, suspended from a rope, hung a dim oil lamp or
two--such was the Rue St. Maur, in the Faubourg St. Germain. It was a
gloomy approach certainly. But a tall porte cochere opened, and
suddenly the whole scene changed. Within those high walls, so
forbidding in aspect, there lay charming gardens, gay with parterres
of flowers, and shaded by noble trees, not only those belonging to the
house itself, but those of other adjoining dwellings of the same
character--one looked over park-like grounds covering some acres. The
hotel itself, standing on the street, was old, and built on a grand
scale; it had been the home of a French ducal family in the time of
Louis XIV. The rooms on the two lower floors were imposing and
spacious; with ceilings of great height, gilded wainscoting and
various quaint little medallion pictures of shepherds and
shepherdesses, and other fancies of the time of Madame de Sevigne.
Those little shepherds were supposed to have looked down upon /la mere
beaute/, and upon /la plus jolie fille de France/ as she danced her
incomparable minuets. Those grand saloons were now devoted to the
humble service of a school for young ladies. But on the third floor,
to which one ascended by a fine stone stairway, broad and easy, with
elaborate iron railings, there was a more simple set of rooms,