THE BOULEVARDS (_continued_).
The Porte St.-Martin--Porte St.-Denis--The Burial Place of the French
Kings--Funeral of Louis XV.--Funeral of the Count de Chambord--Boulevard
Bonne-Nouvelle--Boulevard Poissonnière--Boulevard Montmartre--Frascati.
Just beyond the Porte Saint-Martin the Boulevard Saint-Denis crosses the
great thoroughfare, which is called on one side Boulevard de Sébastopol,
on the other, Boulevard de Strasbourg. The Boulevard de Strasbourg was
so designated (long before the Franco-German war, which suggests quite
another origin for the name) in honour of the city where Prince Louis
Napoleon made his first attempt to restore the Empire in France. The
circumstances of the rash enterprise, represented at the time by the
Government newspapers as merely ridiculous, were sufficiently romantic
to deserve a few words of mention. Quitting his mother, with whom he had
been living at the Castle of Arenberg, in Switzerland, he went as if to
take the waters at Baden-Baden, a place he found suitable to his purpose
from its vicinity to Alsace, and from the opportunity it afforded him
of covering his ambitious views under the mask of pleasure. It was
there that the prince gained the co-operation of Colonel Vaudrey, who
commanded the 4th regiment of artillery at Strasburg, in which frontier
city the prince had resolved to proclaim the restoration of the Empire
before marching towards the capital. The Alsacian democrats were to be
gained over by holding out to them a prospect of a fair representation
of the people, while the garrison of Strasburg was to be captivated by
the cry of "_Vive l'Empereur!_" The citizens were to be summoned to
liberty, and the young men of the schools to arms. The ramparts were
then to be entrusted to the keeping of the national guards, and the
prince was to march to Paris at the head of the troops. "And then," says
Louis Blanc, in his sketch of the project, "the pictures that naturally
presented themselves to the mind of Louis Napoleon were towns surprised,
garrisons carried away by the movement, young men eagerly enlisting
among his adventurous followers, old soldiers quitting the plough from
all quarters to salute the eagle borne aloft, amidst acclamations,
caught up by echo after echo along the roads; bitter recollections of
the invasion, proud memories of the great wars, reviving, meanwhile, in
every part of the Vosges, Lorraine, and Champagne." The ardour of the
conspirators steadily increased, and had they not possessed resolution
and daring of their own, there was a woman in their midst who would
have set them a bold example. Madame Gordon, the daughter of a captain
of the Imperial Guard, had been initiated at Lille into the projects of
Louis Napoleon without the knowledge of the prince himself, and entering
impetuously into the conspiracy, she hastened to Strasburg, or rather
to Baden-Baden in the immediate neighbourhood, and, appearing there
as a professional singer, gave a series of concerts. Prince Louis was
charmed with the lady's talents, and, on expressing his admiration, was
astonished to find that she had come to Baden-Baden with no object but
to help him in the attempt he was about to make on the other side of the
Rhine.
The Strasburg expedition having failed, it pleased the enemies of
the prince to cast ridicule upon it; and he was accused of having
exhibited himself in his uncle's boots, just as some years afterwards,
in connection with the Boulogne expedition, he was said to have carried
with him a trained eagle which at a given moment was to fly to the top
of the Boulogne Column in memory of the Great Army. Both at Boulogne,
however, and at Strasburg the prince had considerable chances of
success: a fact sufficiently proved (apart from any demonstration in
detail) by the popularity he was seen to possess when, in 1848, he
appeared as candidate for the Presidency of the French Republic. At
Strasburg, as afterwards at Boulogne, he did not make his attack until
after he had had the ground thoroughly reconnoitred, and had ascertained
that the troops before whom he was about to present himself were largely
composed of his partisans.
The soldiers of the 4th regiment of artillery were waiting, drawn up
face to face in two lines, with their eyes fixed on Colonel Vaudrey, who
stood alone in the centre of the yard. Suddenly the prince appeared in
the uniform of an artillery officer, and hurried up to the colonel, who
introduced him to the troops, crying out: "Soldiers, a great revolution
begins at this moment. The nephew of the Emperor stands before you.
He comes to place himself at your head. He is here on French soil to
restore to France her glory and her liberty. He is here to conquer
or to die for a great cause--the cause of the people. Soldiers of the
4th regiment of artillery, may the Emperor's nephew reckon on you?" At
these words an indescribable transport seized the troops. As one man
they cried, "_Vive l'Empereur!_" and brandished their arms amid shouts
of enthusiasm. Louis Napoleon, deeply affected, made signs that he
wished to speak. "It was in your regiment," he said, "that the Emperor
Napoleon, my uncle, first saw service; with you he distinguished himself
at the siege of Toulon; it was your brave regiment that opened the gates
of Grenoble to him on his return from the island of Elba. Soldiers,
new destinies are reserved for you!" And, taking the Eagle from an
officer who carried it, "Here," he said, "is the symbol of French glory,
which must henceforth be also the symbol of liberty." The shouts were
redoubled, they mingled with the strains of martial music, and the
regiment prepared to march.
[Illustration: APSIS OF CHURCH OF ST. MÉRY, RUE BRISEMICHE.]
[Illustration: NOTRE-DAME.]
The excitement went on increasing, and cries of "_Vive l'Empereur!_"
filled the air, when suddenly a strange rumour began to spread. It was
said that the self-proclaimed nephew of the emperor was in reality the
nephew of Colonel Vaudrey. The enthusiasts of a second before, lending
ear to the idle whisper, now hesitated; and in revolts the man who
hesitates or meets with hesitation is lost. The people of Strasburg
had shown numerous marks of sympathy for the heir of the first
Napoleon, and many officers and soldiers had espoused his cause. But
the first impulse had received a check, and the power of discipline and
routine soon asserted itself. The question now was, how the heir of the
first Napoleon might escape from the mass of troops by which he was
surrounded. Two of his adherents offered to cut a way for him, sword in
hand; but this wild proposal was naturally rejected, and the prince had
to surrender himself prisoner.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE FAUBOURG SAINT-DENIS.]
What to do with him, however, was for some time a difficult problem to
the authorities. To try the Prince by an ordinary jury would be awkward,
inasmuch as there was a considerable chance of his acquittal; while it
was already known that if he were brought before the Chamber of Peers,
many members of that august body had declared their resolution not to
sit in judgment upon him. At last it was resolved to send him into
exile. He was not allowed to go back to Switzerland, where he had been
living for some years, and he was ultimately ordered to make America his
destination. It was said that he promised to remain there for not less
than ten years. But there is no proof of any such compact having been
entered into, and the prince was soon to be heard of again in London.
Formerly associated solely with the first attempt of Prince Louis
Napoleon to place himself on the throne of France, the Boulevard
of Strasburg now seems to mark the fact that the Alsatian city, so
thoroughly French in feeling, has been made the capital of a province of
the German Empire.
It has been said that the Boulevard Saint-Denis crosses the Boulevard
de Strasbourg; and it terminates at the Porte Saint-Denis, erected two
years earlier than the Porte Saint-Martin, to which it is superior both
by the boldness of its architecture and by the magnificence of its
ornamentation.
The Porte Saint-Denis was constructed in 1672 by the order and at
the expense of the City of Paris, to celebrate the success of that
astonishing campaign in which, during less than sixty days, forty
strongholds and three provinces fell before the armies of the victorious
monarch. The town side of the arch bears, on the left, a colossal figure
of Holland, on the right, another of the Rhine: two masterpieces, due to
the chisel of the Auguier Brothers. At the top of the arch is a frieze
representing in low relief the famous passage of the Rhine under the
orders of Louis XIV. On the Faubourg side the low relief at the top of
the arch represents the taking of Maestricht. The Porte Saint-Denis
bears this simple inscription: "_Ludovico Magno_"--"To Louis the Great."
At the end of the Rue Faubourg Saint-Denis is the necropolis of
Saint-Denis--the burial-place of the French kings.
The obsequies of French kings have from the earliest times been attended
with as much pomp and show as their coronations. It was not enough
to embalm the body, place it in several coffins, and finally carry
it to the royal burial place at Saint-Denis--to observe an elaborate
ceremonial, which the Court functionaries and the officials of State
followed out to the minutest detail; the effigy of the dead king was
exposed for forty days in the palace, stretched on a State bed, clothed
in royal garments, the crown on the head, the sceptre in the right hand,
and the brand of justice on the left, with a crucifix, a vessel of holy
water, and two golden censers at the foot of the couch. The officers of
the palace, meanwhile, continued their duties as usual, and even went
so far as to serve the king's meals as though he were still living. The
embalmed body was afterwards transported to the Abbey of Saint-Denis,
with the innumerable formalities laid down beforehand; while at the
interment so many honours were paid to it that to enumerate them would
be to fill a small volume. The details of the ceremony were so minute
and fastidious that battles of etiquette constantly took place among the
exalted persons figuring in the assembly.
At the burial of Philip Augustus, the Papal Legate and the Archbishop
of Rheims disputed for precedence; and as neither would give way, they
performed service at the same time in the same church, but at different
altars. A like scandal occurred at the funeral of St. Louis. When his
successor, Philip III., wished to enter the Abbey of Saint-Denis at the
head of the procession, the doors were closed in his face. The abbot
objected to the presence, not of the king, his master, but of the Bishop
of Paris and the Archbishop of Sens, whom he had observed among the
officiating clergy, and who, according to his view, had no right to
perform service in the Abbey of Saint-Denis, where he alone was chief.
The difference was arranged by the archbishop and bishop stripping
themselves of their pontifical garments, and acknowledging the supremacy
of the abbot in his own sanctuary.
At the death of Charles VI. it was found necessary to consult the Duke
of Bedford as to the conduct of the funeral ceremony, and under the
direction of the foreigner it was performed with great magnificence. The
duke observed as nearly as possible the ancient ceremonial, the only
important variation being that (possibly in his character of Englishman)
he ordered the interment to be followed by a grand dinner. Even at the
dinner--where, at least, concord might have been expected--there were
absurd wranglings on points of etiquette between the State officials.
These royal funerals naturally cost enormous sums of money, which were
charged partly to the Crown, partly to the City of Paris. The obsequies
of Francis I. took five hundred thousand livres from the purse of his
successor, without counting the contribution, probably of equal amount,
from the town. The effigies of his two sons who had died before him
were carried with his own relics to Saint-Denis. Thus there were three
coffins in the procession. By the observance of a similar custom, there
were in the funeral procession of St. Louis no fewer than five.
At the interments of the old kings genuine grief was often exhibited
by the people. Such, however, was not the case at the obsequies of
Louis XIV. The Duke de Saint-Simon, in his _Memoirs_, speaks of this
funeral as a very poor affair, remarkable only for the confused style
in which it was conducted. The king had left no directions in regard to
his burial; and partly for the sake of economy, partly to save trouble,
it was decided to regulate the ceremonies by those observed at the
interment of Louis XIII., who, in his will, had ordered that they should
be as simple as possible. "His modesty and humility, like the other
Christian and heroic qualities he possessed, had not," says Saint-Simon,
"descended to his son. But the funeral of Louis XIII. was accepted as a
precedent, and no one saw the slightest objection to it, attachment and
gratitude being virtues which had ceased to exist." Nor did the Duke
of Orleans pay a flattering tribute to the royal memory, when, regent
though he had only just become, he absented himself from the ceremony
of carrying the king's heart to the Grand Jesuits: "that heart," says
Saint-Simon, "which loved no one, and which excited so little love."
In addition to the usual distribution of alms, the Regent of Orleans
associated the funeral of Louis XIV. with an exceptional act of mercy. A
number of persons had been arbitrarily imprisoned on _lettres de cachet_
and otherwise, some for Jansenism and various religious and political
offences, others for reasons known only to the king or his former
ministers. The regent ordered all the captives to be set at liberty,
with the exception of a few who had been duly convicted of serious
political or criminal misdeeds. Among the prisoners liberated from
the Bastille was an Italian whose confinement had lasted thirty-five
years, and who had been arrested the very day of his arrival at Paris,
which he had come to see simply as a traveller. "No one ever knew why,"
says Saint-Simon; "nor, like most of the others, had he ever been
interrogated. It was thought to be a mistake. When his liberty was
announced to him, he asked sadly of what use it was to him. He said that
he had not a child, that he knew no one at Paris, nor even the name of
a street, that his relations in Italy were probably dead, and that his
property must have been divided among his heirs, on the supposition
that he was dead. He asked to be allowed to remain at the Bastille for
the rest of his life, with board and lodging. This was granted to him,
with liberty to go out when he pleased. As for the prisoners released
from the dungeons into which the hatred of the Ministers and that of the
Jesuits had thrown them, the horrible condition in which they appeared
inspired horror, and rendered credible all the cruelties they related
when they were in full liberty." The story of the Italian prisoner
who declined to leave the Bastille is interesting from its having
anticipated--perhaps it suggested--the one told by another prisoner on
the occasion of the Bastille being taken by the Revolutionists in 1789.
The funeral of Louis XV. was a very hurried affair. The king died
on the 10th of May, at twenty minutes past three. The whole Court
instantly took flight, and there only remained with the body a few
persons required for the care of it. The utmost precipitation was used
in removing it from Versailles. None of the usual formalities were
observed. Everyone was afraid to go near the body--undertakers, like
the rest, feared the small-pox, of which the king had died--and the
corpse was carried to Saint-Denis in an ordinary travelling carriage,
under the care of forty members of the body-guard and a few pages. The
escort hurried on the dead man in the most indecent manner, and all
along the road the greatest levity was shown by the spectators. The
public-houses were filled with uproarious guests; and it is said that
when the landlord of one of them tried to silence a troublesome customer
by reminding him that the king was about to pass, the man replied: "The
rogue starved us in his lifetime. Does he want us to perish of thirst
now that he is dead?" A jest different in style, but showing equally in
what esteem Louis XV. was held by his subjects, is attributed to the
Abbé of Sainte-Geneviève. Being taunted with the powerlessness of his
saint and the little effect which the opening of his shrine, formerly
so efficacious, had produced, he replied: "What, gentlemen, have you to
complain of? Is he not dead?"
The last of the Bourbons buried at Saint-Denis was Louis XVIII., whose
obsequies were conducted as nearly as possible on the ancient regal
pattern. The exhibition of the king's effigy in wax had in Louis
XVIII.'s time been out of fashion for more than a century. But the
customs observed in connection with the lying-in-state of Louis XIV.
were for the most part revived. The king, who died on the 16th of
September, 1824, was embalmed, and on the 18th his body was exposed on
a State bed in the hall of the throne. His bowels and heart had been
enclosed in caskets of enamel. The exhibition of the body lasted six
days, during which it was constantly surrounded by the officers of
the Crown and the superior clergy. The translation of the remains to
St.-Denis took place on the 23rd, in the midst of an imposing civil
and military procession. The princes of the blood and grand officers
of State occupied fourteen mourning coaches, each with eight horses,
and the tail of the procession was formed by 400 poor men and women
bearing torches. Received at the entrance to the church by the Dean
of the Royal Chapter and the Grand Almoner of France, the body was
placed on trestles in the chancel, while prayers were recited by the
clergy. It was afterwards removed to an illuminated chapel, where it
lay exposed for a whole month, the chapter performing services night
and day. The interment took place on the 25th of October. The grand
almoner celebrated a solemn mass; and after the Gospel a funeral oration
was pronounced by the Bishop of Hermopolis. Then four bishops uttered
a benediction over the body, and absolution was pronounced; twelve of
the body-guard thereupon carrying the coffin down to the royal vault,
where the grand almoner cast a shovelful of earth on it, and blessed
it, saying: "_Requiescat in pace_." The king-at-arms approached the
open vault, threw into it his wand, helmet, and coat-of-arms, ordered
the other heralds to imitate him, and calling up the grand officers of
the Crown, told them to bring the insignia of the authority they held
from the defunct king. Each came in succession with the object entrusted
to his care: such as the banner of the royal guard, the flags of the
body-guard, the spurs, the gauntlets, the shield, the coat-of-arms, the
helm, the pennon, the brand of justice, the sceptre, and the crown. The
royal sword and banner were only presented at the mouth of the vault.
The Grand Master of France now inclined the end of his staff towards the
coffin, and cried in a loud voice: "The king is dead!" The king-at-arms,
taking three steps backwards, repeated in the same tone: "The king is
dead; the king is dead!" Then, turning towards the persons assembled,
he added: "Let us now pray to God for the repose of his soul." The
clergy and all present fell on their knees, prayed, and then stood up.
The grand master next drew back his staff, raised it in the air, and
exclaimed: "Long live the king!" The king-at-arms repeated: "Long live
the king! Long live the king! Long live King Charles, the tenth of the
name, by the grace of God King of France and of Navarre; very Christian,
very august, very powerful; our honoured lord and master, to whom may
God grant a life long and happy. Cry all 'Long live the king! Long live
Charles X.!'" The tomb was closed, and the ceremony was at an end.
At the funeral of the Count de Chambord the hearse was surmounted
by a dome, on which rested four crowns. It was not explained what
kingdoms these crowns were intended to represent. As the head of the
House of France, the right of the count, heraldically speaking, to
wear the French crown would scarcely be disputed. The four symbolical
crowns on the count's hearse were possibly, then, meant to be simple
reminders that the Bourbons claimed sovereign rights over four different
countries; and in the days of Louis Philippe they indeed reigned in
France, Spain, Naples, and Parma. But the Revolution of 1848 in France
and the war of 1859 in Italy cleared three thrones of their Bourbon
occupants, and the last of the reigning Bourbons disappeared when, in
1868, Isabella of Spain fled from Madrid. Thus, in the course of twenty
years the four Bourbon crowns lost all real significance; and the
Bourbon sovereigns had simply increased the numbers of those "kings in
exile," so much more plentiful during the period of M. Alphonse Daudet
than at that of Voltaire, who first observed them, in _Candide_, as a
separate species.
Now that the Comte de Chambord reposes by the side of his grandfather,
Charles X., there are as many of the Bourbons buried at Göritz as at
Saint-Denis, where, in the burial-place of the French kings, the only
really authentic bodies are those of the Duke of Berri, the Count of
Chambord's father, and Louis XVIII., his great-uncle. In regard to the
later occupants of the French throne, it is at least certain where they
are interred; Napoleon I. at the Invalides, Louis Philippe at Claremont,
Napoleon III. at Chiselhurst, and the last two representatives of the
Bourbons at Göritz. The first of the Bourbons, Henri IV., as likewise
his successors, Louis XIII., Louis XIV., and Louis XV., were buried at
Saint-Denis, in the vault known as that of the Bourbons; and to the
coffins still supposed to contain their remains were added, after the
Restoration, two more, reputed--without adequate foundation for the
belief--to hold the bodies of Louis XVI. and of the child who died in
the Temple--the so-called Louis XVII. The body of the Duke of Berri was
laid in the vault of the Bourbons a few days after his assassination in
1820; and that of Louis XVIII. was consigned to the same resting-place
in 1824. But in 1793 the tombs of the French kings had been dismantled,
and their contents re-interred promiscuously in two large graves,
hastily dug for the purpose; and the identity of the bones asserted to
be those of Louis XVI. and Louis XVII., which were not placed in the
Bourbon vault of the Saint-Denis church until 1815, could scarcely be
demonstrated.
[Illustration: BOULEVARD AND PORTE SAINT-DENIS.]
"To celebrate the 10th of August, which marks the downfall of the French
Throne, we must, on its anniversary," said Barrère, in his report
addressed to the French Convention, "destroy the splendid mausoleums at
Saint-Denis. Under the monarchy the very tombs had learned to flatter
the kings. Their haughtiness, their love of display, could not be
subdued even on the theatre of death; and the sceptre-bearers who have
done so much harm to France and to humanity seem even in the grave to
be proud of their vanished greatness. The powerful hand of the Republic
must efface without pity those arrogant epitaphs and demolish those
mausoleums which would revive the frightful recollections of the kings."
The proposition of Barrère was adopted, and the National Assembly
decreed "that the tombs and mausoleums of the former kings in the
Church of Saint-Denis should be destroyed." The execution of the
decree was undertaken on the 6th of August, and three days afterwards
thirty-one tombs had been swept away. Not the least remarkable of
these tombs was the earliest, erected by St. Louis in honour of "Le
Roi Dagobert," of facetious memory, famed in song for having put on
his breeches "à l'envers." It is one of the most curious monuments of
the thirteenth century, and at least as interesting for its subject as
for its architecture. On three zones, superposed one upon the other,
is represented the legend of Dagobert's death. On the lowest zone we
see St. Denis revealing to a sleeping anchorite, named Jean, that King
Dagobert is suffering torments; and close by, the soul of Dagobert,
represented by a naked child bearing a crown, is being maltreated by
demons, frightfully ugly, who hold their prey in a boat. In the middle
zone, the same demons are running precipitately from the boat, in the
most grotesque attitudes, at the approach of the three saints, Denis,
Martin, and Maurice, who have come to rescue the soul of King Dagobert.
In the highest of the bas-reliefs the soul of King Dagobert is free. The
naked child is now standing in a winding-sheet, of which the two ends
are held by St. Denis and St. Martin; and angels are awaiting him in
heaven, whither he is about to ascend. The commission appointed by the
Convention did not destroy this tomb. They had it transported, with many
other objects of artistic and intrinsic value, to Paris.
The last King of France and of Navarre died on the 6th of July, 1836,
and it was not until nine days afterwards that the fact was made known
to the French public through the columns of the _Gazette de France_.
The heart of Charles X. was, according to royal custom, separated from
the body; though, instead of being preserved apart, as in the case of
former French kings, it was enclosed in a box of enamel, and fastened
with screws to the top of the coffin. The Comte de Chambord, on the
other hand, was buried in the ordinary manner, and not, like Charles X.,
with his heart on the coffin lid; nor, like Louis XVIII., with his heart
in one place and his body in another. The dead, according to the German
ballad, "ride fast." But the living move still faster; and in France,
almost as much as in England, the separation of a heart from the body,
to be kept permanently as a relic, is in the present day a process which
seems to savour of ancient times, though, as a matter of fact, it was
common enough among the French at the end of the last century. In our
own country the discontinuance of what was at one time as much a custom
in England as in France, or any other continental land, is probably
due to the influence of the Reformation, which, condemning absolutely
the adoration of the relics of saints, did not favour the respectful
preservation of relics of any kind. Great was the astonishment caused in
England when in the last generation it was found that Daniel O'Connell
had by will ordered his heart to be sent to Rome. The injunction was
made at the time the subject of an epigram, intended to be offensive,
but which would probably have been regarded by O'Connell himself as
flattering: setting forth, as it did, that the heart which was to be
forwarded to Rome had never in fact been anywhere else. The reasons for
which in the Middle Ages hearts were enclosed in precious urns may have
been very practical. Sometimes the owner of the heart had died far from
home, and in accordance with his last wishes, the organ associated with
all his noblest emotions was sent across the seas to his living friends.
Such may well have been the case when, after the death of St. Louis at
Tunis, the heart of the pious king was transmitted to France, where it
was preserved for centuries--perhaps even until our own time--in La
Sainte Chapelle. In the year 1798, while some masons were engaged in
repairing the building which had been converted into a depôt for State
archives, they came across a heart-shaped casket in lead, containing
what was described as "the remains of a human heart." The custodians of
the archives drew up a formal report on the discovery, and enclosing
it in the casket with the relics, replaced the casket beneath the
flagstones whence it had been disinterred. In 1843, when the chapel
was restored, the leaden heart-shaped receptacle was found anew, and a
commission was appointed to decide as to the genuineness of the remains,
believed to be those of St. Louis. An adverse decision was pronounced,
the reasons for discrediting the legend on the subject being fully set
forth by M. Letrenne, the secretary of the commission.
* * * * *
The Boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle, which comes next to the Boulevard
Saint-Denis, is bounded on the right by the Faubourg Poissonnière,
and on the left by the Butte aux Gravois, on which was built in the
seventeenth century the quarter named, after its parochial church,
Notre-Dame de Bonne Nouvelle. The Bonne Nouvelle Bazaar, constructed
in the reign of Louis Philippe, contained, in the basement, a sort of
theatre of considerable size, where, in 1848, several political clubs
and other conventions were established. Here on one particular day,
arriving together by opposite staircases, Victor Hugo and Frédéric
Lemaître would present themselves at the speaker's desk erected for
political orators. Ultimately, but not without some hesitation, the
interpreter of Ruy Blas gave way to the creator of the part. The object
of the assembly was to constitute in a permanent way a club for Parisian
writers and artists of the dramatic and other schools. Close by, at No.
26, is the Viennese beer-house, established on the site of the theatre
opened in 1838, where the company of the old Vaudeville Theatre took
refuge when, on the 18th of July in that year, they were burnt out.
There is now but one theatre on the Boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle--that of
the Gymnase, opened on the 20th of December, 1820, under the patronage
of the Duchess of Berri, who four years afterwards allowed it to take
the title of "Théâtre de Madame," which it retained until the Revolution
of 1830. It was then entitled the "Gymnase Théâtre Dramatique,"
afterwards to be known simply as the Gymnase. For the last seventy years
the Gymnase has been one of the very best theatres of the second order,
ranking immediately after the theatres subventioned by the State. It
was at the Gymnase that Scribe made his brilliant reputation with a
long succession of little masterpieces, until at length he was followed
by Alexandre Dumas the younger, who here produced "Le Demi-Monde,"
"Diane de Lys," and many other pieces less imposing, perhaps, but more
thoughtful and more powerfully written than those of his predecessor.
It was at the Gymnase, too, that Sardou brought out many of his best
pieces, such as "Les Ganaches," "La Perle noire," "Nos bons Villageois,"
and "Fernande." This theatre, moreover, was the birthplace of Meilhac
and Halévy's "Frou-Frou."
The first house on the Boulevard Poissonnière, at the corner of the
street of that name, bears an inscription which fixes at this point the
boundary of Paris in 1726, though by some authorities 1726 is said to
have been substituted for the true year in which the boundaries of Paris
were marked--namely, 1702.
With the last house on the Boulevard Poissonnière, at the corner of the
Faubourg Montmartre, begins a whole series of celebrated restaurants.
As the origin of this familiar word is not universally known, it may
here be mentioned that it originated with an eating-house keeper,
who inscribed above his establishment in large letters the following
passage from the Gospel: "Venite ad me et ego 'Restorabo' vos." This
restaurateur, or restaurant-keeper, had imitators, and the name which
his quotation had suggested was applied to all of them. Paul Brébant,
known as the _restaurateur des lettres_, has fed more than one
generation of authors and journalists, who have not neglected him on
becoming senators or ministers. A great number of monthly entertainments
are given at this restaurant. Here dine together the Society of Men of
Letters, the Dramatic Critics' Club, the Parisians, the Spartans, etc.
Passing on, we next reach the ancient café of the Porte Montmartre,
installed in the house which once belonged to the Marchioness de Genlis,
sister-in-law of the authoress who superintended the education of the
Orleans princes.
Close by is the bazaar or arcade known as the Passage des Panoramas,
which owes its name to a series of panoramas representing Paris, Lyons,
London, and Naples, established here, under special privilege, by Robert
Fulton, the inventor of steamers. The money which he made by exhibiting
the panoramas enabled him to continue his experiments in marine
locomotion. To the left of the Passage des Panoramas was a strip of
land, on which, in 1806, the Théâtre des Variétés was built. This little
theatre, which, under the name of Variétés Montansier, occupied the site
where now stands the Théâtre du Palais Royal, had committed the offence
of attracting the public and filling its coffers with gold, while the
Comédie Française, close to it, had scarcely been able to make both ends
meet. The famous theatre where, at that time, the principal actor was
Talma and the principal actress Mlle. Mars, uttered a formal complaint;
and the liberty of the stage being then at an end, the Théâtre des
Variétés was expelled from the Palais Royal, but allowed to take refuge
in a new house built especially for it on the before-mentioned strip of
land.
For many years the Théâtre des Variétés undertook to amuse the public
with the lightest comedies, in which such actors as Brunet, Potier,
Vernet, and Odry, such actresses as Flore and Jenny Vertpré appeared.
After the Revolution of July, 1830, it made experiments in a more
serious style, producing, for instance, the "Kean" of Dumas the elder,
with Frédéric Lemaître in the principal character, and Bressant in
the part of the Prince of Wales. Under the Second Empire the Variétés
returned to its old trade, besides adopting an entirely new one--that
of opera-bouffe, as cultivated by Offenbach. Here the earliest and best
works of this master, such as "La belle Hélène" and the "Grand Duchess
of Gerolstein," were first performed, with Schneider and Dupuis in
the principal parts. Here, too, some of the best comedies of Meilhac,
Halévy, and Labiche were brought out.
The Boulevard Montmartre, in front of the Variétés, is the most animated
part of the whole line of boulevards. The late Henri Dupin, the famous
boulevardier, who died a centenarian, used to pretend that he had shot
rabbits between the Rue Montmartre and the adjoining Rue Richelieu. This
was doubtless an exaggeration. But a representation of this part of
Paris, painted in the days of the First Empire, shows that at the point
in question there were ditches intersecting a road lined with trees.
The Boulevard Montmartre combines some of the features of the upper and
of the lower boulevard, the shops which here abound offering for sale
objects of use and of ornament, of interest and of luxury: clothes,
bonnets, books, chocolate, bonbons, and music.
[Illustration: BOULEVARD BONNE-NOUVELLE AND THE GYMNASE THEATRE.]
At the corner of the Boulevard Montmartre and the Rue Vivienne stood
the famous public gambling-house of Frascati, where, until the reign of
Louis Philippe, as at a similar establishment in the Palais Royal, games
of hazard were publicly played. These gambling-houses bore an important,
and often, no doubt, disastrous part in the social life of the French
capital, and innumerable anecdotes have been told of the sums lost and
won within their walls.
Both comedy and tragedy bore a part in the scenes produced by the
fascinating cards. Materials for a farce might be found in one scene,
in which Mlle. Contat, the famous actress, figured. She was far too
beautiful to want, even from her girlhood, a host of admirers. Her first
love affair was sufficiently unfortunate. The successful suitor was
a certain M. de Lubsac, an officer in the king's household. He was a
man of inferior birth, with an empty purse; but he was as handsome as
Apollo, and a wit into the bargain. He laid such persistent siege to the
actress that she at length yielded in sheer weakness to his importunity.
De Lubsac was distinguished by two vices: he loved wine and cards. His
passion for play was so reckless that one night he staked his beautiful
mistress, or at least put to hazard the whole of her diamonds and
trinkets. He lost; and the next day, just as Mlle. Contat was about to
attend a _fête_, she looked for her jewellery in vain. The caskets were
all empty; a clean sweep had been made of everything. She set up a cry
of "Thieves!" and called in the police. De Lubsac thought it discreet
to silence her by a free confession of his "fault." He admitted that
he had pledged the whole of the missing property. She was furious, and
De Lubsac expressed the deepest contrition. "Ah!" he cried, wringing
his hands, "if I only had a few louis at this moment I could repair
everything!" "How?" cried Mlle. Contat, with a sudden gleam of hope.
"Why, to-night," replied Lubsac, "I feel that my luck is in. I should
win everything back. But I have not a solitary sou." The repentance of
the criminal was so comic that it touched the actress's heart. Presently
she smiled, then she laughed outright. In the end she lent the gambler
a couple of louis, the last she had in the world, and he hurried off to
the gaming-table. In less than an hour he returned triumphant. He had
won. He brought back the whole of the jewellery, which he had taken out
of pawn, and he had a few louis in his pocket besides. It was impossible
to be too severe with such a man. The actress, however, could not put up
with him many months. He at length proved such a desperate rake that she
dismissed him in disgust.
[Illustration: THE BOULEVARD MONTMARTRE.]
Every reader of Balzac's invaluable novels will remember one or more
scenes in which some public gambling establishment is introduced. At
the Frascati people lost their money according to rule, and under the
superintendence of the police. Nor did the spendthrifts who haunted it
cease to play even when ruin began to stare them in the face, for an
occasional piece of luck would always revive the delusion that one day
the goddess Fortune would return them the sums they had squandered in
wooing her. Attached to the Frascati gambling-house were illuminated
gardens, imitated from those of the Italian Ridotto, and largely
resorted to, under the Directory and the Consulate, by fashionable
citizens. The original proprietor of the Frascati establishment, Garchi
by name, died insolvent. The place was seized, and in 1799 passed into
the hands of one Perrin, whom Fouché, the celebrated minister of police,
appointed Farmer-General of Games. Public gambling-houses were kept up
in Paris until the year 1836, when, under Louis Philippe, the "Citizen
King," they were brought to an end.
With the Frascati Gardens disappeared the charming villa built by
Brongniart, with its Italian roof, its portico, and its statues. It was
replaced by a house which was to enjoy a celebrity of its own. On the
ground-floor it was occupied by Jannisset, the fashionable jeweller; on
the first floor by Buisson the tailor, who had the honour of dressing
Balzac, the greatest novelist that France, if not the world, has
produced. Balzac had inspired the man with the same sort of admiration
that a certain wine-merchant felt for the unfortunate Haydon. "Ought a
man who can paint like that to be in want of a glass of sherry?" said
Haydon to the art loving vintner who had come to ask for a settlement
of his bill. "Indeed, no," replied the wine-merchant, who not only
went away without asking even for a trifle on account, but hastened
to forward several dozen of sherry for Haydon's encouragement and
stimulation.
Buisson was treated by Balzac on the most friendly footing. Not only
did the great novelist allow the fashionable tailor to dress him for
nothing, but he also paid him long visits, and used a special set of
apartments assigned to him in a lofty region of Buisson's house, where
in the midst of the workshops he was beyond the reach of troublesome
creditors. Far from being ungrateful to his benefactor, Balzac has
rendered him immortal by naming him again and again in his works.
Buisson will, thanks to Honoré de Balzac, be always known as the
fashionable tailor of Louis Philippe's reign.
The name of Frascati at one time belonged to the present Boulevard
Montmartre. It is still retained by the pastrycook who sells ices and
tarts in his shop at the corner of the boulevard. It should be mentioned
that this pastrycook's shop was preceded by the Café Frascati, which
owed its success entirely to the beauty of the lady who presided at
the counter. When the _dame du comptoir_ disappeared the café became
deserted, and had to close its doors.
[Illustration]