CHAPTER XIX.

THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES.

The Louvre--Origin of the Name--The Castle--Francis I.--Catherine de

Medicis--The Queen's Apartments--Louis XIV. and the Louvre--The "Museum

of the Louvre"--The Picture Galleries--The Tuileries--The National

Assembly--Marie Antoinette--The Palace of Napoleon III.--_Petite

Provence_.

The origin of the Louvre is remote and the etymology of the word

obscure. In the absence of any more probable derivation, philologists

have fixed upon that of _lupus_, or rather in the Latin of the lower

empire, _lupara_. According to this view, the ancient palace of the

French kings was originally looked upon as a wolf's den, or it may be

as a hunting-box from which to chase the wolf. The word "louvre" is

said at one time to have been used as the equivalent of a royal palace

or castle, and in support of this view the following lines are quoted

from La Fontaine's fable of "The Lion, the King of Beasts," in which the

monarch of the forest is represented as inviting the other animals to

his "louvre."

This, however, only proves that the name of a French palace which had

existed since the beginning of the thirteenth century could be used in

La Fontaine's time as a name for the palace of any king. "According to

some," says M. Vitet, "the Louvre was founded by Childebert; according

to others, by Louis Le Gros. It was either a place from which to hunt

the wolf, a 'louveterie' (_lupara_), or, according to another view, a

fortress commanding the river in front of the city. It seems probable

that before the time of Philip Augustus there was a fortified castle

where now stands the Louvre, and that this king simply altered it,

and indeed reconstructed it, but was not its founder. The historians

of the time speak frequently of the great tower built in 1204 by this

prince, to which the name of New Tower was given; an evident sign of

the existence of some other more ancient tower. It was not in any case

until 1204 that, for the first time, the name of Louvre was officially

pronounced. Until then the field is open to conjectures."

It appears certain that the ground on which the palace stands was called

Louvre before anything was built upon it. A chart of the year 1215,

referred to by Sanval, shows that Henri, Archbishop of Rheims, built a

chapel at Paris in a place called the Louvre. Whence the name? it may

once more be asked. One facetious historian declares that the castle of

the Louvre was one of the finest edifices that France possessed, and

that Philip Augustus "called it, in the language of the time, Louvre,

that is to say, _l'oeuvre_ in the sense of _chef-d'oeuvre_."

According to another far-fetched derivation the word "Louvre" comes from

_rouvre_, which is traced to _robur_, an oak, because the Louvre stood

in the midst of a forest, which may have been a forest of oaks!

Whatever meaning was attached to the word, it is certain that when in

1204 Philip Augustus built or reconstructed the Louvre he gave it the

form, the defences, and the armament of a fortress. It was the strong

point in the line of fortifications with which this monarch surrounded

Paris.

The first existing document in which the Louvre is mentioned by name is

an account of the year 1205 for provisions and wine consumed by citizens

who in the Louvre had done military duty.

The castle was at that time in the form of a large square, in the midst

of which was a big tower, with its own independent system of defence.

The tower was 144 feet in circumference, and 96 feet in height. Its

walls were 13 feet thick near the basement, and 12 feet in the upper

part. A gallery at the top put it in communication with the buildings of

the first enclosure, and it served at once as treasury and as prison.

Here Ferrand, Count of Flanders, was confined by Philip Augustus in

1214, after the victory of Bouvines. John IV., Duke of Brittany, Charles

II., King of Navarre, and John II., Duke of Alençon, were among many

other illustrious prisoners shut up in the Big Tower or _donjon_ of the

ancient Louvre.

Louis IX. arranged in the west wing of the Louvre a large hall, which

was long known as the Chamber of St. Louis. Charles V. enlarged and

embellished the Louvre. He added to it another storey, and did all in

his power to change what had hitherto been a purely military building

into a convenient and agreeable place of abode. The architecture of the

building, originally constructed for use, not show, was in many respects

improved, and the gates were surmounted with ornaments and pieces of

sculpture. The reception rooms were away from the river, and looked out

upon a street long since disappeared, called La Rue Froidmanteaux. The

apartments of the king and queen looked out upon the river.

Each of the towers was designated by a particular name, according to

its history, or the purpose it was intended to serve. The Big Tower was

also called the Ferrand Tower, from the Count of Flanders having been

confined in it; and there were also the Library Tower, where Charles

V. had brought together 959 volumes, which formed the nucleus of the

National Library; the Clock Tower, the Horseshoe Tower, the Artillery

Tower, the Sluice Tower, the Falcon Tower, the Hatchet Tower, the tower

of the Great Chapel, the tower of the Little Chapel, the Tournament

Tower (where the king took up his position to see tournaments and

jousts), besides others. Charles V. added to the Louvre a number of

buildings for tradespeople and domestics, whose services had to be

dispensed with when the Louvre was purely a military building. Such

names as pantry, pastry, saucery, butlery, were given to the different

buildings and departments by the bakers, the pastry-cooks, the makers of

sauces, and the keepers of the wine.

The gardens of the Louvre, though not very extensive, were greatly

admired. Here were to be seen aviaries, a menagerie of wild beasts, and

lists for different kinds of sports and combats. Charles VI., who lived

by preference at the Hôtel St. Pol, increased the fortifications of the

Louvre, and sacrificed to that end the gardens of the king and queen on

the side of the river. The succeeding kings until the time of Francis

I. occupied themselves very little with the Louvre, and scarcely ever

resided there.

During this first period of its history, from Philip Augustus until

Francis I., the Louvre was the scene of numerous historical events. In

1358, during the captivity of King John in England, the citizens of

Paris, in support of the deputies of the communes in the States-General,

besieged and took the Louvre, driving away the governor, and carrying

off to the Hôtel de Ville all the arms and ammunition they could find

in the arsenal of the fortress. Soon afterwards the governor, Pierre

Gaillard, was decapitated by order of the Dauphin Regent for making

so poor a defence. It was at the Louvre, moreover, in 1377, that the

Emperor of Germany, Charles IV., allied himself with Charles V. of

France, to make war upon England.

Under the reign of Charles VI., in 1382, while the king was engaged in

suppressing an insurrection in Flanders, the Parisians, in their turn,

revolted, and proposed to destroy alike the fortress of the Louvre, and

that other fortress, destined five centuries later to fall beneath the

first blows of the Revolution. They were counselled, however, by one of

their leaders to spare both prison and palace; and the advice was sound,

for after quieting the turbulent Flemings, the king returned to Paris

more powerful than ever.

In 1399, Andronicus, and in 1400, Manuel Palæologus, both Emperors of

Constantinople, were entertained at the Louvre, as were also, in 1415,

Sigismund, Emperor of Germany, and, in 1422, the King and Queen of

England.

When Francis I. ascended the throne, the Louvre regained all its

importance as a royal residence. The king began by pulling down the Big

Tower, constructed by Philip Augustus, which cast its shadow over the

whole of the palace, and gave it the look of a prison. Twelve years

later (1539), when the Emperor Charles V. visited Paris, Francis I.

determined to receive him, not in the Hôtel des Tournelles, where he

was living at the time, but in the old palace of the French kings.

He undertook various repairs, and covered the crumbling walls with

paintings and tapestry. Everything, too, was regilt, "even," says

a chronicler, "to the weather-cocks." Finally the space comprised

between the river and the moat of the castle was laid out in lists for

tournaments.

[Illustration: THE OLD LOUVRE (PIERRE LESCOT'S FAÇADE).]

After spending large sums of money in repairing the Louvre, Francis I.

decided to reconstruct it on a new plan, so as to get rid altogether of

the irregularity of the old buildings, with their Gothic architecture.

The work of reconstructing the Louvre was entrusted to the Italian

architect Serlio. But his plan was laid aside in favour of one presented

by Pierre Lescot, who, in spite of his French name, was, like Serlio,

of Italian origin. He belonged to the Alessi family; and Serlio was so

pleased with his designs that he at once pressed the king to accept

them. Lescot associated with himself the graceful, ingenious sculptor

Jean Goujon, who, like every French artist of the time, had formed his

style in Italy; and the Italian sculptor Trebatti, a pupil of Michel

Angelo, who possessed more force than belonged to Jean Goujon. To these

illustrious men is due the admirable façade of the west in the courtyard

of the Louvre.

Great progress was made with the reconstruction of the Louvre under the

reign of Henri II., who, while the works were going on at the ancient

palace, lived at the Hôtel des Tournelles. It was to this residence that

he was carried home to die after being mortally wounded by Montgomery,

of the Scottish guard, in the fatal tournament of the Place Royale.

Henri's successor, Francis II., would not live in a place associated

with such a tragic incident, and took up his residence at the Louvre.

The power of Catherine de Médicis was now beginning to assert itself,

and she had the bad taste to interrupt the plans of Pierre Lescot,

and to order new constructions of her own designing to be carried out

by her own Italian architects. The Louvre was carried forward to the

bank of the river; and the Italian painter Romanelli was employed to

decorate a new suite of rooms, which became known as the apartments of

the queen. The new work, while possessing a beauty of its own, was

quite out of harmony with the severer style followed by Pierre Lescot

in connection with the old Louvre. At the southern extremity of the

wing built by Catherine de Médicis looks out upon the Seine a window of

noble construction, from which, according to popular tradition, Charles

IX. amused himself during the massacre of St. Bartholomew by firing

on the unhappy Huguenots who were swimming to the other side of the

river. Modern historians have, of course, discovered that the window in

question did not exist at the time; also that Charles IX. on the day of

the massacre was not at the Louvre, but at the Hôtel de Bourbon close

by. It was possibly from one of the windows of the Hôtel de Bourbon

that he fired. Henri IV. inhabited the Louvre; and it was there that he

expired, mortally wounded by the dagger of Ravaillac. This sovereign had

added a new gallery to the wing built by Catherine de Médicis, and had

filled it with paintings by the most celebrated artists of the time. It

perished, however, in a fire; and it was to replace it that Louis XIV.

constructed what is now known as the Apollo Gallery. Henri IV. was the

first moreover to connect the Tuileries with the Louvre, or, at least,

to prolong the Tuileries along the Seine in the direction of the Louvre

without completing the junction. The son of Henri IV., Louis XIII.,

continued the work left unfinished by Pierre Lescot; though, as happens

with so many architectural continuations, he departed greatly from the

original plan.

[Illustration: THE COLONNADE OF THE LOUVRE.]

The "queen's apartments," constructed by Catherine de Médicis, were

successively occupied by Marie de Médicis and Anne of Austria; and under

each reign new decorations and new pictures were added. Particularly

admirable was a series of portraits of Queens of France ending with

Marie de Médicis, whose likeness by Porbus was said to be a masterpiece.

Nothing, according to an historian of the time, was spared to make the

work perfect; and "although blue was then exceedingly dear, the painter

nevertheless spread it over his canvas with so much prodigality that

the cost of the colour came to six twenty-crown pieces." In front of

the "apartments of the queen," which were furnished with every luxury,

was a tastefully laid-out garden which, completely transformed, exists

to this day. The "Garden of the Infanta" it is called, in memory of the

poor little Infanta of Spain brought to France at the age of four to

become the wife of Louis XV. Restricted for some years to the garden

in question and the apartments adjoining it, she was afterwards sent

back to Spain with a doll worth 20,000 francs, given to her by her late

_fiancé_. The apartments of the queen consisted, according to Sanval, of

a guard-room, a large ante-chamber, a sitting-room communicating with

two galleries, a reception-room, and a boudoir.

[Illustration: PORTION OF THE FAÇADE OF HENRI IV.'S GALLERY, LOUVRE.]

While occupying himself chiefly with Versailles, his own personal

creation, Louis XIV. did not forget Paris and the Louvre. It has been

said that he reconstructed the gallery built by Henri IV., which,

after the death of that monarch, was destroyed in a fire. The work of

reconstruction was entrusted to Louis XIV.'s favourite painter, Lebrun;

and the Apollo Gallery, which owes its name to the principal subject of

the painter's art, is perhaps the most complete, most perfect monument

of the style which prevailed under the "Grand Monarque"; a style which

may be wanting in purity of taste, but which, in a decorative point of

view, is magnificent.

Colbert, appointed superintendent of royal buildings, was now ordered

to complete the Louvre. The first thing to do was to add a façade on

the east; by an idea which has since become commonplace, but which was

strikingly original at the time, the Minister opened a competition for

the best design. The one most admired was the work not of an architect,

but of a doctor, Claude Perrault by name. Colbert was delighted with it,

but before coming to a decision about a matter of so much importance,

he sent to Nicolas Poussin, then at Rome, the designs of all the

competitors except Perrault. Poussin sent back all the drawings with

severe criticisms, and submitted a plan of his own, which satisfied

neither Colbert nor the king. Things had reached this point, and Colbert

was about to take upon himself the responsibility of adopting Perrault's

design, when he was urged by the Abbé Benedetti and Cardinal Chigi,

afterwards Pope Alexander VII., to have recourse to the services of

the celebrated Bernini, whose reputation was at that time universal.

Thus pressed, Colbert addressed himself to the Duke de Créquy, French

ambassador at the Pontifical Court, and begged him to see Bernini on the

subject. Louis XIV., moreover, wrote himself to Bernini a letter, which

made him resolve to visit France.

On his arrival at Paris, Bernini submitted to the king a project which

is said to have been "full of grandeur," but which was not put into

execution. He was now in delicate health, and the annoyance caused to

him by the jealousy of the French artists, vexed at seeing the plans

of a foreigner preferred to their own, made him solicit the king's

permission to go back to Rome. Louis XIV. gave his consent, and at the

same time granted Bernini a pension. Bernini having left Paris, Colbert

hesitated no longer. He summoned Claude Perrault and ordered him to

begin work at once. The first stone was laid by Louis XIV. with great

ceremony, October 17, 1665; and, thanks to the activity of Colbert, the

new façade was finished by 1670. This façade, known as the Colonnade

of the Louvre, is upwards of 170 metres long, and more than 27 metres

high. It may at once be objected to the new façade that, with all its

magnificence, it is quite out of harmony with the style adopted in the

four façades which form the admirable quadrangle of the Louvre. But

whatever may be said against it, Perrault's colonnade is one of the most

remarkable conceptions of modern architecture. When first erected, it

was looked upon as an unapproachable masterpiece; and it exercised on

architecture abroad, as well as at home, a considerable influence which

still lasts.

After finishing his colonnade, Perrault tried to bring it into harmony

with the earlier portions of the building. But from the year 1680 Louis

XIV. occupied himself no more with the Louvre. He thought of nothing but

Versailles, which absorbed all, and more than all, the money he had to

spare for building purposes. In 1688 Perrault died, and the Louvre was

now not only neglected, but forgotten. Then it was remembered only to

be turned to base uses. Stables were established in the ancient palace;

though, by way of compensation, it must be added that a number of

artists and men of learning had lodgings assigned to them in apartments

formerly regarded as royal.

Among Louis XIV.'s favourite lodgers may be mentioned the sculptors

Girardon, Couston, Stoltz, and Legros; Cornu and Renaudin, famous for

their marble vases; the medallist, Du Vivier; the painters Rigaud,

Desportes, Coypel, and Claudine Stella; the two Baileys, father and son,

keepers of the king's pictures; Bain, celebrated painter in enamel; the

engraver Sylvestre, the decorators Lemoine and Meissonnier, who made

nearly all the drawings for the festivals and ceremonies of the court;

Bérin, celebrated for his theatrical costumes and scenes; the geographer

Sanson, the engineer d'Hermand, goldsmiths Balin, Germain, Benier, and

Mellin; the clockmakers Turet and Martinot, the gunmakers Renier and

Piraube, the metal-worker Revoir, and finally (without mentioning many

other men of science, art, and art work) Boule, the world-famed maker of

the inlaid furniture invented by him.

This furniture, known in France as _meubles de Boule_, has, by the way,

in some inexplicable manner, got to be known in England as "buhl," and

even "bühl" furniture, though Boule was born at Paris in 1642, and

died there in 1732, without apparently having ever lived in Germany.

In assigning to Boule a set of apartments in the Louvre, Louis XIV. at

the same time appointed him engraver in ordinary of the royal seals.

Boule, moreover, was honoured on this occasion with a diploma which

gave him the titles of "architect, painter, sculptor in mosaic, artist

in furniture, carver, decorator, and inventor of cyphers." In his

furniture, Boule employed with great effect woods of different colours,

while for his inlaid work he used mother-of-pearl, ivory, gold, brass,

bronze, and mosaic. He imitated on his furniture all kinds of animals,

flowers, and fruits. He even represented landscapes, hunting scenes,

battles, and historical subjects. Besides furniture, Boule applied his

art to clocks, casquets, inkstands, and all kinds of arms. He worked

much for Versailles and the other royal residences, and received

frequent orders from foreign sovereigns.

The meaning, however, of Louis XIV.'s apparent liberality was, from a

Versailles point of view, that the Louvre was not worth living in. To

provide furnished apartments for the recipients of the king's bounty,

it was unfortunately necessary to put up partitions so as to divide and

sub-divide the majestic halls of the palace into little sitting-rooms

and bed-rooms. The Louvre was now an hotel, or rather a _caravanserai_,

in which everyone made his bed as best pleased him. Worse still, traders

were allowed to erect shops and booths in front of the palace, these

improvised constructions resting, indeed, on the palace walls. In 1754,

under the reign of Louis XV., Marigny, superintendent of fine arts,

undertook to remedy this state of things. He succeeded in interesting

the king, who not only ordered the space in front of the Louvre to be

cleared, but empowered the architect, Gabriel, to complete the edifice.

Gabriel continued the unfinished façade, but had made but little

progress when Louis XV. died.

When Louis XVI. ascended the throne in 1774 the Louvre was far from

being finished; and the first step taken by the new monarch in

connection with the old palace was to have the interior quadrangle

cleared of the heaps of sand and dust which had accumulated there, some

of these heaps forming little mountains which reached the first floor of

the building. Louis XVI., after the first years of his reign, had more

pressing matters to attend to than the completion of the ancient palace

of the Kings of France. His own throne was menaced, and the history of

the Louvre as a royal residence was now at an end.

More than one sovereign has left his mark on the walls of the Louvre.

The western wing bears the monogram of Louis XIII. and Anne of Austria;

also of Louis XIV. and Marie Thérèse. In the north wing, the letters

L. B. are to be seen, signifying Louis de Bourbon, an extremely rare

form of the name of Louis XIV. On the south wing, several K's are to be

seen, standing for "Karolous," or Charles IX. Look to the east, and the

Napoleonic empire is symbolised by several eagles.

The Louvre, as we know it, with its magnificent gallery of pictures open

to the whole world, dates only from the Revolution. There were from

the time of Francis I. pictures in the old palace, and the collection

was constantly increased under his successors. But the galleries were

private. They were reserved for the delectation of the sovereign and his

court. At the very beginning, however, of the Revolution, the Louvre was

literally invaded, and some of the unfinished portions were finished in

an unexpected manner by being converted into private dwelling houses.

But the Republican Government soon put an end to this; and it was under

the Convention that the picture gallery of the Louvre, increased by

works of art from other palaces, was for the first time thrown open to

the public.

To speak only of the building, it was continued by the Republic, and all

but completed by Napoleon, who, after appointing a committee of artists,

and receiving from them a report in favour of Pierre Lescot's design,

determined, on his own responsibility, to finish the Louvre according to

the later design of Claude Perrault.

Napoleon wished, moreover, to join the Louvre to the Tuileries, so as to

make of the two palaces one immense palace. Two architects, Percier and

Fontaine, were ordered to put this project into form, and they presented

their plans to the Minister of Fine Arts in 1813. But the Imperial

Government was now near its fall, and it was not during the calamitous

retreat from Moscow that architectural projects of any kind could be

entertained.

Under the reigns of Louis XVIII. and Charles X. the halls of the Louvre

were redecorated. When Louis Philippe came to the throne, M. Thiers, his

Minister, laid before the Chambers a proposition for joining the Louvre

to the Tuileries at a cost of fourteen million francs. But the Bill was

thrown out, and a similar one presented to the Chamber ten years later,

in 1843, met with the same fate.

Liberal and even prodigal as the kings of France have often shown

themselves in connection with art, they have never given it such

effective encouragement as it has received from France's Republican

Governments. After the Revolution of 1848, the Provisional Government

had not been more than four days in power when, February 28th, it issued

a decree ordering the completion of the Louvre under the name of "The

People's Palace." A Bill was afterwards passed, on the proposition of

the President, General Cavaignac, for restoring the two principal halls

of the Louvre, together with the Apollo Gallery. A design from the hand

of M. Visconti, in conformity with the decree of February 28th, was now

adopted, and this was the one ultimately carried out. But the Assembly

hesitated for a time before the expenditure which the execution of the

plan would necessarily entail; and its deliberations were put an end to

by the _coup d'état_ of 1851. Then came the Empire; and in 1854 Napoleon

III. ordered the completion of the Louvre, and its junction with the

Tuileries. The plan of M. Visconti, adopted by the Republican Government

in 1848, was now carried out, and the palace begun by Francis I. was at

last, after three centuries, completed by Napoleon III.

[Illustration: TOP OF THE MARSAN PAVILION, LOUVRE.]

Apart from certain incongruities between the different styles

adopted, far less apparent to the general public than to the critical

architectural eye, and from which no ancient building that has ever been

repaired is entirely free, a magnificent line of palaces and gardens

now extended for some three-quarters of a mile along the course of the

Seine from St. Germain l'Auxerrois to the Place de la Concorde. But the

Louvre and the Tuileries now, after so many ineffectual attempts, joined

together, were not destined to remain together very long. The Emperor

Napoleon was, after the catastrophe of Sedan, to be replaced by the

Republican Government of the 4th of September, which was soon to give

way to the Commune, under whose abominable rule so many fine buildings,

with the Palace of the Tuileries among them, were wantonly sacrificed,

and in a spirit of blind hatred burnt down. The conflagration lighted

by the Communists had left standing and comparatively uninjured the

outer walls, and therefore the general outline of the palace. But these

were calmly pulled down by the "moderate" Republicans, less through

considerations of art than from political prejudice.

The Louvre subsists in its entirety, and in virtue of its magnificent

collection of pictures, constantly enriched through sums voted during

the last hundred years by National Assemblies, it has come to be looked

upon as public property. The Tuileries, however, was a palace to the

last; and the destruction of this palace, which the _communards_ had

only partially accomplished, was effectually completed by the "moderate"

Republic established on the ruins of its immediate predecessor.

Interesting as the Louvre may be by its ancient history, the old palace

is above all famous in the present day for its admirable picture

gallery, first thrown open to the public in the darkest, most sanguinary

days of the French Revolution. The modern collection was formed by

Francis I., who, during his Italian campaigns, had acquired a taste

for Italian art, and who not only invited celebrated Italian artists

to his court, but gave princely orders to those who, like Raphael and

Michel Angelo, were unable to visit France in person. He collected

not only pictures, but art works, and especially antiquities of all

kinds--statues, bronzes, medals, cameos, vases, and cups. Primatice

alone brought to him from Italy 124 ancient statues and a large number

of busts. These treasures were collected at Fontainebleau, and a

description of them was published long afterwards by Father Dan, who,

in his "Wonders of Fontainebleau" (1692), names forty-seven pictures

by the greatest masters, nearly all of which had been acquired by

Francis I. It was not, indeed, until the reign of Louis XIII. that any

important additions were made to Francis I.'s original collection.

Among the pictures cited by Father Dan may in particular be mentioned

two by Andrea del Sarto, one by Fra Bartolommeo, one by Bordone, four

by Leonardo da Vinci, one by Michel Angelo (the Leda, afterwards

destroyed), three by Perugino, two by Primatice, four by Raphael, three

by Sebastian del Piombo, and one by Titian.

[Illustration: THE MARSAN AND FLORA PAVILIONS, LOUVRE, FROM THE PONT

ROYAL.]

The royal gallery was considerably augmented under the reign of Louis

XIV. At his accession it included only 200 pictures. At his death the

number had been increased to 2,000. Most of the new acquisitions were

due to the Minister Colbert, who spared neither money nor pains to

enrich the royal gallery, the direction and preservation of which was

entrusted to the painter Lebrun.

A banker, Jabach of Cologne, resident at Paris, had purchased a large

portion of art treasures collected by King Charles I., and brought

them over to Paris. He had bought many pictures, moreover, in various

parts of the Continent. Ruined at last by his passion for the fine

arts, he sold a portion of his collection to Cardinal Mazarin, and

another portion, composed chiefly of drawings, to the king. On Mazarin's

death, Colbert bought for Louis XIV. all the works of art left by that

Minister, including 546 original pictures, 92 copies, 130 statues, and

196 busts. Louis XIV. placed his collection in the Louvre, and his first

visit to the palace after the installation of the pictures is thus

described in _Le Mercure Galant_ of December, 1681:--

"On Friday, the 5th day of the month, the king came to the Louvre to

see his collection of pictures, which have been placed in a new series

of rooms by the side of the superb gallery known as the Apollo Gallery.

The gold which glitters on all sides is the least brilliant of its

adornments. What is called 'the cabinet of his Majesty's pictures'

occupies seven large and lofty halls, some of which are more than 50

feet long. There are, moreover, four additional rooms for the collection

in the old Hôtel de Grammont adjoining the Louvre. So many pictures

in so many rooms make the entire number appear almost infinite. The

walls of the highest rooms are covered with pictures up to the ceiling.

The following will give some idea of the number of pictures, by the

greatest masters, contained in the eleven rooms:--There are sixteen by

Raphael, six by Correggio, five by Giulio Romano, ten by Leonardo da

Vinci, eight by Giorgione, twenty-three by Titian, sixteen by Carraccio,

eight by Domenichino, twelve by Guido, six by Tintoretto, eighteen by

Paul Veronese, fourteen by Van Dyck, seventeen by Poussin, and six by

M. Lebrun, among whose works there are some (the battles of Alexander)

which are 40 feet long. Besides these pictures there are a quantity

of others by Rubens, Albano, Antonio Moro, and other masters of equal

renown. Apart from the pictures, there are in the old Hôtel de Grammont

many groups of figures and low reliefs in bronze and ivory."

The royal visit, as described by the writer in _La Mercure Galant_,

was followed by the dispersion of the collection. Louis XIV. was so

pleased by the wonderful sight that he ordered a number of the pictures

to be removed to Versailles, where, according to the _Mercure_, there

were already twenty-six pictures by the first masters; and so long

as Versailles was the royal residence the greater part of the king's

collection was lost to the public, and served only to furnish the rooms,

except, indeed, when the pictures had fallen to the ground and lay there

covered with dust. Under the reign of Louis XIV. a critic whose name is

worth preserving, Lafont de St. Yenne, complained that so many beautiful

works were allowed to lie heaped up together and buried in "the obscure

prison of Versailles," and demanded that all these treasures, "immense

but unknown," should be "arranged in becoming order and preserved in

the best condition" in a gallery built expressly for their reception in

the Louvre, where they would be "exhibited to the admiration and joy of

the French or the curiosity of foreigners, or finally to the study and

emulation of our young scholars."

The author of these judicious suggestions got into trouble as a

pamphleteer; but four years afterwards, in 1750, Louis XIV. allowed the

masterpieces previously stowed away in the apartments of the household

at Versailles to be taken to Paris and submitted to the admiration of

painters and lovers of painting. The Marquis de Marigny, Director of

Royal Buildings, ordered Bailly, keeper of the king's pictures, to

arrange the collection in the apartments which had been occupied at

the Luxembourg by the Queen of Spain. The "cabinet," composed of 110

pictures, was opened for the first time October 14th, 1750, and the

public was admitted twice every week, on Wednesdays and Saturdays. The

pictures dedicated by Rubens to Marie de Médicis were on view the same

days, and during the same hours.

Until the reign of Louis XVI. the royal pictures, the number of which

had been increased by the purchase of many examples of the Flemish

school, continued to be divided into two principal sections, one placed

in the Luxembourg, and visible twice a week to the public, the other

kept out of sight in the palace of Versailles. The Louvre contained the

"king's cabinet of drawings," to the number of about 10,000. The Apollo

Gallery, which served as studio to six students patronised by the king,

contained "The Battles of Alexander," and some other pictures by Lebrun,

Mignard, and Rigaud.

In 1775, under Louis XVI., Count d'Angiviller succeeded the Marquis de

Marigny, and going a step beyond him, formed the project of collecting

everything of value that the Crown possessed in the way of painting

and sculpture. Contemporary writers applauded this idea, which was

attributed by some to M. de la Condamine. All, however, that came of the

new proposal was that instead of pictures being brought from Versailles

to Paris, the Louvre collection was transferred to Versailles.

"It was necessary," writes M. Viardot, "that a new sovereign--the

nation--should come into power for all these immortal works rescued

from the royal catacombs to be restored to daylight and to life. Who

could believe, without authentic proofs, without official documents, at

what epoch this great sanctuary, this pantheon, this universal temple

consecrated to all the gods of art, was thrown open to the public?

It was in the middle of one of the crises of the Revolution in that

dreadful year 1793, so full of agitation, suffering, and horror, when

France was struggling with the last energy of despair against her

enemies within and without; it was at this supreme moment that the

National Convention, founding on the ruins of the country a new and

rejuvenated land, ordered the formation of a national art collection."

A step in this direction had already been taken in 1791, when it was

decreed that the artistic treasures of the nation should be brought

together at the Louvre. The year following, August 14th, 1792, the

Legislative Assembly appointed a commission for collecting the statues

and pictures distributed among the various royal residences; and on the

18th of October in the same year, Roland, Minister of the Interior,

wrote to the celebrated painter David, who was a member of the

Convention, to communicate to him the plan of the new establishment.

Finally, a decree of July 27th, 1793, ordered the opening of the "Museum

of the Republic," and at the same time set forth that the "marble

statues, vases, and valuable pieces of furniture placed in the houses

formerly known as royal, shall be transported to the Louvre, and that

the sum of 100,000 francs shall be placed annually at the disposition

of the Minister of the Interior to purchase at private sales such

pictures and statues as it becomes the Republic not to let pass into

foreign hands, and which will be placed in the Museum of the Louvre." It

should not be forgotten that France was then at war with all the German

Powers, and threatened by all the Powers of Europe. Crushed by military

expenditure, the Republic had yet money to spare for the purchase of

works of art.

The French Museum, as the Louvre collection was first called, received

afterwards the name of Central Museum of the Arts; and it was first

opened to the public on the 8th of November, 1793. The next decree in

connection with the fine arts ordered that a number of pictures and

statues formerly belonging to the palace of Versailles, and which the

inhabitants of Versailles were detaining as their property, should be

placed in the Louvre. The old palace was still inhabited by a number

of artists and their families. David had his studio there, and most of

the painters who had made for themselves a tolerable reputation had

apartments in the Louvre. It was reserved for Napoleon to turn them

all out, and to give to the Louvre the character which it has since

preserved--that of a national palace of art treasures.

The galleries of the Louvre profited greatly by the Napoleonic wars. All

continental Europe was laid under contribution by the victorious French

armies, but especially Italy and Spain.

The stolen pictures formed the best part of what was now called the

Musée Napoléon. Though not surreptitiously obtained they had been

acquired in virtue of conventions imposed on a conquered people.

Thus pictures from the galleries of Parma, Piacenza, Milan, Cremona,

Modena, and Bologna, were made over to France by the armistices of

Parma, Bologna, and Tolentino. The public was admitted to view the

conquered treasures on the 6th of February, 1798. Some months afterwards

masterpieces from Verona, Mantua, Pesaro, Loretto, and Rome were added

to the marvellous collections; which on the 19th of March, 1800, was

further augmented by drafts of pictures from Florence and Turin. In 1807

France received the artistic spoils of Germany and Holland.

Among the famous works of art which France at this time possessed,

and which were all on exhibition at the Louvre, may be mentioned "The

Belvedere Apollo," "The Laocoon," "The Medicean Venus," "The Wrestlers,"

"The Transformation" and "The Spasimo"; Domenichino's "Communion of

St. Jerome," Tintoretto's "Miracle of St. Mark," Paul Veronese's four

"Last Suppers," and Titian's "Assumption"; Correggio's "St. Jerome" and

Guercino's "St. Petronilla"; "The Lances" of Velasquez, and the "St.

Elizabeth" of Murillo; Rubens' "Descent from the Cross," and Rembrandt's

"Night Patrol."

The French say with some justice that many of these works by being sent

to the Louvre were saved from destruction. Many of them, too, though

falling into decay, were restored with the greatest care; and some

were transferred with success from worm-eaten panels to canvas, thus

receiving new brilliancy and a new life. When Paris was occupied by the

allies in 1814, the art treasures of which so many European countries

had been despoiled were left in the possession of the French, who

may be said on this occasion to have been magnanimously treated. The

object, indeed, of the allies was not to weaken nor to humiliate France

as a nation, but simply to restore Louis XVIII. to the throne of his

ancestors.

In 1815, after the return from Elba and the Waterloo campaign, it was

determined to treat France with a certain severity. She was deprived of

the Rhine provinces for the benefit of Prussia, while Milan and Venice

were placed in the hands of Austria, so that both from the Italian and

from the German side France might be held in check. The artistic plunder

which France had collected from so many quarters was at the same time

given back to the countries from which it had been taken.

French statesmen protested that the pictures and statues brought to

Paris from so many foreign picture galleries belonged to France in

virtue of formal treaties and conventions; Louis XVIII. himself declined

to sanction the restoration of the captured pictures and statues.

Denon, Director-General of Museums, resisted even when threatened

with imprisonment in a Prussian fortress; and he made the foreign

commissaries sign a declaration to the effect that in giving up the

works claimed he yielded only to force.

The so-called spoliation of the Louvre was at last effected. The

pictures and statues, that is to say, which had been seized by

victorious France, were from vanquished France taken back and replaced

in the museums to which they had originally belonged.

Since the fall of the First Empire the Louvre has acquired but few

masterpieces from abroad. Italy now guards her art treasures with a

jealous hand; and there are few countries where the masterpieces of

antiquity can be purchased except when some private gallery is broken up

through the bankruptcy or death of the owner. Under the new monarchy the

beautiful though armless Venus of Milo was brought to France; and under

the Second Empire "The Conception" of Murillo was purchased for 615,000

francs. The Third Republic, under the presidency of M. Thiers, spite of

its difficulties in connection with the crushing war indemnity, paid

206,000 francs for a fresco by Raphael. The regular annual allowance to

the Minister of Fine Arts for the purchase of pictures is now 100,000

francs a year. Meanwhile, the Louvre collection has been constantly

augmented by pictures transferred to the more classical museum from the

gallery of pictures by living artists in the Luxembourg.

The pictures exhibited at the Louvre are arranged on a system which

leaves nothing to be desired. The supreme masterpieces of the collection

are all together, without reference to school, nationality, or period,

in a large square room known as the Salon Carré. In the other rooms the

pictures are arranged historically.

The principal entrance to the picture galleries of the Louvre is in the

Pavilion Molière, opposite the square of the Carrousel. After passing

a spacious vestibule, where mouldings of Trajan's Column and a fine

collection of antique busts may be seen, the visitor ascends a staircase

adorned with Etruscan works in terra-cotta and reaches the round hall or

cupola of the magnificent Apollo Gallery, decorated with wall paintings

and painted ceilings by the courtly Lebrun of Louis XIV.'s time and

the vigorous imaginative Eugène Delacroix of our own. What can be more

admirable than Delacroix's "Nymph," at whose feet crouches a panther?

"Behold this work," writes Théophile Gautier, "and you will see that for

colour France has no longer any reason for envying Italy, Flanders, or

Spain. Delacroix, in this great page, in which the energy of his talent

is freely displayed, shows a knowledge of decorative art which has never

been surpassed. Impossible while never departing from his own genius to

be more in harmony with the style of the gallery and of the epoch. One

might here call him a florid romantic Lebrun."

The Apollo Gallery leads to the before-mentioned Salon Carré, where

Paul Veronese's "Marriage of Cana" at once attracts attention, not only

by its immense proportions, but also and above all by the richness of

the colouring and the beauty of the composition. Here, too, is the

portrait by Leonardo da Vinci, known in France as "La Joconde"; "a

miracle of painting," says Gautier, who has made it the subject of one

of his most remarkable criticisms. "'La Joconde,' sphinx of beauty," he

exclaims, "smiling so mysteriously in the frame of Leonardo da Vinci,

and apparently proposing to the admiration of centuries an enigma which

they have not yet solved, an invincible attraction still brings me back

towards you. Who, indeed, has not remained for long hours before that

head, bathed in the half-tones of twilight, enveloped in transparency;

whose features, melodiously drowned in a violet vapour, seem the

creation of some dream through the black gauze of sleep? From what

planet has fallen in the midst of an azure landscape this strange being

whose gaze promises unheard-of delights, whose experience is so divinely

ironical? Leonardo impresses on his faces such a stamp of superiority

that one feels troubled in their presence. The partial shadow of their

deep eyes hides secrets forbidden to the profane; and the inflexions of

their mocking lips are worthy of gods who know everything and calmly

despise the vulgarities of man. What disturbing fixity, what superhuman

sardonicism in these sombre pupils, in these lips undulating like the

bow of Love after he has shot his dart. La Joconde would seem to be the

Isis of some cryptic religion, who, thinking herself alone, draws aside

the folds of her veil, even though the imprudent man who might surprise

her should go mad and die. Never did feminine ideal clothe itself in

more irresistibly seductive forms. Be sure that if Don Juan had met

Monna Lisa he would have spared himself the trouble of writing in his

catalogue the names of 3,000 women. He would have embraced one, and the

wings of his desire would have refused to carry him further. They would

have melted and lost their feathers beneath the black sun of these

eyes."

[Illustration: THE RICHELIEU PAVILION.]

Leonardo da Vinci is said to have been four years painting this

portrait, which he could not make up his mind to leave and which he

never looked upon as finished. During the sittings musicians played

choice pieces in order to entertain the beautiful model, and to prevent

her charming features from assuming an expression of wearisomeness or

fatigue.

Raphael is represented in the Salon Carré by "St. Michael and the

Demon," painted on a panel framed in ebony. This admirable work is

signed not in the corner of the picture, but on the edge of the

archangel's dress. "Raphaël Urbinas pingebat, M.D. XVIII." runs the

inscription, which Raphael seems to have wished to make inseparable

from the work. Among the other pictures of Raphael chosen for places

of honour in the Square Room are "The Holy Family," which originally

belonged to Francis I., and the virgin known as "La Belle Jardinière.

Among the other masterpieces contained in the Salon Carré may be

mentioned Correggio's "Antiope," Titian's "Christ in the Tomb,"

Giorgione's "Country Concert," Guido's "Rape of Dejanira," Rembrandt's

"Carpenter's Family," Van Ostade's "Schoolmaster," Gerard Douw's

"Dropsical Woman," Rubens' Portrait of his Wife, a "Charles I." by

Van Dyck, and Murillo's "Conception of the Virgin." This last-named

work, as already mentioned, was purchased under the Second Empire for

upwards of 600,000 francs. It formed part of a valuable collection of

Spanish pictures belonging to Marshal Soult, and had been acquired by

that commander under peculiar circumstances during the Peninsular War.

A certain monk had been sentenced to death as a spy. Two monks from

the same monastery waited upon the marshal to solicit their brother's

forgiveness. Soult was obdurate, until at last Murillo's wonderful

picture was placed before him. The picture was forwarded to France, and

the too patriotic monk set free. Among the selected works by Italian,

Dutch, Flemish, and Spanish painters are to be found a few by French

artists--for example, the "Diogenes" of Poussin and the "Richelieu" of

Philippe de Champagne; but not one work by an English hand. Nor in the

famous Salon Carré of the Louvre is a single landscape to be found.

* * * * *

The Tuileries, before incendiarism under the Commune rendered it a very

imperfect building, had as a palace led a very imperfect life. Catherine

de Médicis had ordered the destruction of the Palais des Tournelles,

where, by a fatal accident Montgomery had pierced the eye and brain of

Henri II. in the celebrated tournament, and had gone to live with her

children at the Louvre. These children were Francis II., the husband of

Marie Stuart; Charles IX., whose memory, like that of his mother, is

indelibly associated with the massacre of St. Bartholomew; Henri III.,

who for his sins was elected King of Poland; and Francis d'Anjou, who

gained the famous battle of Jarnac, and who on his death was succeeded

by Henri IV., first King of France and of Navarre. The ancient fortress

of the Louvre was not suited to the pomp of a Médicis, and Catherine

ordered a new palace to be built for her own special convenience in the

_Tuileries_, or tile yards, where the mother of Francis I. had bought

a country house, but where Francis I. would never reside, preferring

to his Parisian residence the castles of Fontainebleau, Amboise, and

Chambord.

According to the plan of Philibert Delorme, the new Palace of the

Tuileries was to be a true palace of the French kings, with a royal

façade, the most beautiful gardens, and the most magnificent courtyards.

Philibert Delorme never got beyond the façade, which, however, was

enough to stamp him as an architect of the first order. Henri IV.--or

rather Androuet Ducerceaux acting upon his orders--continued the work

of Philibert Delorme. Ducerceaux made many changes, and among others

constructed a dome where Philibert Delorme had meant only to build a

cupola.

Who, meanwhile, was to live at the Tuileries? It was a royal palace, but

not the palace of the French kings. Valois did not live there, Catherine

de Médicis gave magnificent entertainments at the Tuileries, but held

her Court at the Louvre. Nor did Henri IV. reside at the Tuileries. His

private apartments, decorated by the genius of Pierre Lescot, were at

the Louvre, from which Paris could be better observed. Henri's widow,

Marie de Médicis, mourned for her generally excellent though not too

faithful husband in the Luxembourg Palace. When Richelieu came to power

and worked out the problem of the unity of France, he built the Palais

Cardinal, but took no thought of the Tuileries. His eyes were fixed on

the Louvre, where Louis XIII. was domiciled. Louis XIV. passed no more

time at the Tuileries than any of his predecessors. His mother, Anne

of Austria, established her regency at the Palais Cardinal, soon to

become the Palais Royal; and all idea of completing the Tuileries seemed

to have been given up, when in 1660, under Louis XIV., then twenty-two

years of age, the architects Levan and Dorbay were ordered to resume the

work of Philibert Delorme and Ducerceaux--the work begun by Catherine,

continued by Louis XIV.'s grandfather, Henri IV., and abandoned by his

father, Louis XIII. The Palace of the Tuileries having at last been

completed, it became the residence simply of Mlle. de Montpensier. From

time to time Louis XIV. visited the place, but only to make it the

scene of some occasional entertainment. His favourite abode was always

Versailles.

While the Regent was at the Palais Royal, the youthful Louis XV. lived

at the Tuileries. But as soon as he could walk alone, Louis le bien

aimé, as he was afterwards to be called, hastened to Versailles; and the

Tuileries Palace of strange destinies was now occupied by the French

Opera Company. It became the Paris Opera House, the Académie Royale de

Musique--to give the establishment its official title--whose theatre at

the Palais Royal had been burnt down. In 1720 the Opera was replaced at

the Tuileries by the Comédie Française. To Lulli succeeded Corneille and

to Rameau Voltaire.

One of the most interesting celebrations ever witnessed at the

Tuileries was the crowning of Voltaire on the 30th of March, 1778,

after a representation of his tragedy _Irène_. "Never," wrote Grimm,

the chronicler, in reference to this performance, "was a piece worse

acted, more applauded, and less listened to. The entire audience was

absorbed in the contemplation of Voltaire, the representative man of the

eighteenth century; philosopher of the people, who could justly say,

'J'ai fait plus dans mon temps que Luther et Calvin.'" Voltaire had but

recently left Ferney to return to France, which he had not seen for

twenty-seven years. Deputations from the Academy and from the Théâtre

Français were sent to receive him, and on his arrival he was waited upon

by men and women of the highest distinction, whether by birth or by

talent. After the performance of _Irène_, he was carried home in triumph.

"You are smothering me with roses," cried the old poet, intoxicated

with his own glory. The emotion, the fatigue, caused by the interesting

ceremony, had indeed an injurious effect upon his health, and hastened

his death, concerning which so many contradictory stories have been

told. That he begged the curé of St. Sulpice to let him "die in peace"

is beyond doubt; and that he died unreconciled to the Church, whose

bigotry and persecution he had so persistently attacked, is sufficiently

shown by the fact that, equally with Molière (though the great comedy

writer had in his last moments demanded and received religious

consolation), he was refused Christian burial. His nephew, the Abbé

Mignot, had the corpse carried to his abbey of Scellières, where it

remained until, under the Revolution, it was borne in triumph to the

Panthéon.

Eleven years after the crowning of Voltaire at the Tuileries, Louis XVI.

arrived there from Versailles, where he had fraternised with the people,

only to find that he was no longer a king. On the 19th of October, 1789,

three months after the taking of the Bastille, the National Assembly

had waited in a body upon the king and queen, when the president, still

loyal, said to Marie Antoinette: "The National Assembly, madame, would

feel genuine satisfaction could it see for one moment in your arms the

illustrious child whom the inhabitants of the capital will henceforth

regard as their fellow-citizen, the offshoot of so many princes tenderly

beloved by their people, the heir of Louis IX., of Henri IV., and of him

whose virtues constitute the hope of France." The queen replied, "Here

is my son;" and Marie Antoinette, taking the young Louis in her arms,

carried him into the room occupied by the Assembly.

On the 26th of May, 1791, Barrère said to this same Assembly: "The first

things to be reserved for the king are the Louvre and the Tuileries,

monuments of grandeur and of indigence, whose plan, whose façades,

are due to the genius of art, but whose completion has been neglected

or rather forgotten by the wasteful carelessness of a few kings. Each

generation expected to see this monument, worthy of Athens and of Rome,

at last finished; but our kings, fearing the gaze of the people, went

far from the capital to surround themselves with luxury, courtiers,

and soldiers. It is characteristic of despotism to shut itself up in

the midst of Asiatic luxury, as formerly divinities were placed in

the depths of temples and of forests, in order to strike more surely

the imagination of men. A great revolution was needed to bring back

the people to liberty, and kings to the midst of their people. This

revolution has been accomplished, and the King of the French will

henceforth have his constant abode in the capital of the empire. This

is our project. The Tuileries and the Louvre shall together form the

National Palace destined for the habitation of the king."

Thereupon the Assembly decreed: "The Louvre and the Tuileries joined

together shall be the National Palace destined for the habitation of the

king, and for the collection of all our monuments of science and art,

and for the principal establishments of public instruction."

[Illustration: THE TUILERIES IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.]

[Illustration: THE TERRACE, TUILERIES GARDENS.]

[Illustration: THE TUILERIES GARDENS.]

The position of the king at this time is well described by Arthur

Young:--

"After breakfast," he writes in diary form, "walk in the gardens of

the Tuileries, where there is the most extraordinary sight that either

French or English eyes could ever behold at Paris. The king, walking

with six Grenadiers of the _milice bourgeoise_, with an officer or two

of his household, and a page. The doors of the gardens are kept shut

in respect to him in order to exclude everybody but deputies or those

who have admission tickets. When he entered the palace, the doors of

the gardens were thrown open for all without distinction, though the

queen was still walking with a lady of her court. She also was attended

so closely by the _gardes bourgeoises_ that she could not speak but in

a low voice without being heard by them. A mob followed her, talking

very loud, and paying no other apparent respect than that of taking

off their hats whenever she passed, which was, indeed, more than I

expected. Her Majesty does not appear to be in health; she seems to be

much affected and shows it in her face; but the king is as plump as

ease can render him. By his orders there is a little garden railed off

for the Dauphin to amuse himself in and a small room is built in it to

retire to in case of rain; here he was at work with his little hoe and

rake, but not without a guard of two Grenadiers. He is a very pretty,

good-natured looking boy, five or six years old, with an agreeable

countenance; wherever he goes all hats are taken off to him, which I was

glad to observe. All the family being thus kept close prisoners (for

such they are in effect) afford at first view a shocking spectacle, and

is really so if the act were not absolutely necessary to effect the

revolution. This I conceive to be impossible; but if it were necessary

no one can blame the people for taking every measure possible to secure

that liberty they had seized in the violence of a revolution. At such

a moment nothing is to be condemned but what endangers the national

freedom. I must, however, freely own that I have my doubts whether

this treatment of the royal family can be justly esteemed any security

to liberty; or on the contrary, whether it was not a very dangerous

step that exposes to hazard whatever had been gained. I have spoken

with several persons to-day and started objections to the present

system, stronger even than they appear to me, in order to learn their

sentiments, and it is evident they are at the present moment under an

apprehension of an attempt toward a counter revolution. The danger of

it very much, if not absolutely, results from the violence which has

been used towards the royal family. The National Assembly was before

that period answerable only for the permanent constitutional laws

passed for the future; since that moment it is equally answerable for

the whole conduct of the government of the State, executive as well

as legislative. This critical situation has made a constant spirit of

exertion necessary amongst the Paris militia. The great object of M. La

Fayette and the other military leaders is to improve their discipline

and to bring them into such a form as to allow a rational dependence on

them in case of their being wanted in the field; but such is the spirit

of freedom that even in the military, there is so little subordination

that a man is an officer to-day and in the ranks to-morrow; a mode of

proceeding that makes it the more difficult to bring them to the point

their leaders see necessary. Eight thousand men in Paris may be called

the standing army, paid every day 15 fr. a man; in which number is

included the corps of the French Guards from Versailles that deserted to

the people; they have also 800 horses at an expense each of 1,500 livres

a year, and the officers have double the pay of those in the army."

If the people and the popular leaders were in constant fear of a counter

revolution, the king on his side had had enough of royalty, and on

the first opportunity fled from his subjects. The flight of the royal

family, as is plainly shown by the correspondence of Marie Antoinette

and by other authentic documents, had been concerted beforehand with

the foreign Powers. This course was dictated by the most obvious

considerations of personal safety. But all idea of an understanding

with the "foreigner" was repudiated in the most solemn manner by the

king. What the revolutionary Government resented was less the king's

desire to escape from a country where he had not only ceased to rule,

but where his position was getting from day to day more precarious, than

his apparent intention of making himself as soon as he had crossed the

frontier the centre and support of a counter revolution.

As the moment of departure approached, the king and queen renewed with

increased energy protestations of their adhesion to the Constitution.

At the same time the queen was writing to her brother Leopold, May

22nd, 1791: "We are to start for Montmédy. M. de Bouillé will see to

the ammunition and troops which are to be collected at this place, but

he earnestly desires that you will order a body of troops of from 8,000

to 10,000 to be ready at Luxembourg and at our orders (it being quite

understood that they will not be wanted until we are in a position of

safety) to enter France both to serve as example to our troops and if

necessary to restrain them."

On the 1st of June, after reiterating her demand for 8,000 or 10,000

troops at Luxembourg, close to the French frontier, she added: "The king

as soon as he is safe and free will see with gratitude and joy the union

of the Powers to assert the justice of his cause." The plan, concerted

with the Austrian ambassador at Paris, who had been the queen's adviser,

was first to place the royal family in safety beyond the French

frontier, and then to act against France with an army of invasion aided

within the country by a Royalist insurrection.

It was at the same time understood that the Austrian Emperor and the

German princes were not to give their aid gratuitously. They were to be

recompensed by a "rectification" of the northern and eastern frontiers

of France to their advantage. Troops were promised to Marie Antoinette

by her brother Leopold, not only from Austria and various German States

but also from Sardinia, Switzerland, and even Prussia.

It was the popular belief at the time that Queen Marie Antoinette had

determined to do some dreadful injury to Paris and other French cities;

to blow them up, for instance, with gunpowder or by some secret means.

At a village near Clermont in the Puy de Dôme, Arthur Young wished to

see some famous springs; and the guide he had engaged being unable to

render him useful assistance he took a woman to conduct him, when she

was arrested by the _garde bourgeoise_ for having without permission

become the guide of a stranger.

"She was conducted," writes Young, "to a heap of stones they call

the Château. They told me they had nothing to do with me; but as to

the woman, she should be taught more prudence for the future. As the

poor devil was in jeopardy on my account, I determined at once to

accompany them for the chance of getting her cleared by attesting her

innocence. We were followed by a mob of all the village with the woman's

children crying bitterly for fear their mother should be imprisoned.

At the castle we waited some time, and we were then shown into another

apartment, where the town committee was assembled; the accusation was

heard, and it was wisely remarked by all that in such dangerous times

as these, when all the world knew that so great and powerful a person

as the queen was conspiring against France in the most alarming manner,

for a woman to become the conductor of a stranger, and of a stranger

who had been making so many suspicious inquiries as I had, was a high

offence. It was immediately agreed that she ought to be imprisoned. I

assured them she was perfectly innocent; for it was impossible that any

guilty motive should be her inducement. Finding me curious to see the

springs, having viewed the lower ones, and wanting a guide for seeing

those higher in the mountains, she offered herself; that she certainly

had no other than the industrious view of getting a few sous for her

poor family. They then turned their inquiries against myself--that, if

I wanted to see springs only, what induced me to ask a multitude of

questions concerning the price, value, and product of the land? What

had such inquiries to do with springs and volcanoes? I told them that

cultivating some land in England rendered such things interesting to me

personally; and lastly, that if they would send to Clermont they might

know from several respectable persons the truth of all I asserted; and,

therefore, I hoped, as it was the woman's first indiscretion, for I

could not call it offence, they would dismiss her. This was refused at

first, and assented to at last, on my declaring that if they imprisoned

her they should do the same by me and answer it as they could. They

consented to let her go with a reprimand, and I started--_not_

marvelling, for I have done with that--at their ignorance in imagining

that the queen should conspire so dangerously against their rocks and

mountains. I found my guide in the midst of the mob, who had been very

busy in putting so many questions about me as I had done about their

crops."

Such indeed was the general feeling against the king and queen, that,

apart from other powerful motives, they had soon no alternative but to

seek safety in flight. One of the principal agents in their escape was

Count de Fersen, formerly colonel of the regiment of Royal Suédois. He

was to drive the coach containing the king and queen. Marie Antoinette

was to play the part of a governess, Mme. Rochet, in the service of

an imaginary Russian lady, Baroness de Korff, impersonated by Mme. de

Tourzel, actually governess to Marie Antoinette's children. As for the

king, disguised in livery, he was to pass as the Russian lady's valet.

The royal family was at this time confined more or less strictly to the

Tuileries; and La Fayette, under whose command the troops on guard at

the palace had been placed, had probably eyed with suspicion certain

preparations made by the queen as if in view of a speedy departure.

[Illustration: LION IN THE TUILERIES GARDENS.

(_By Cain._)]

M. de Bouillé, who commanded at Metz, had orders to occupy the high road

with detachments of troops as far as Châlons. During the night of the

20th of June, 1791, the royal family escaped from the Tuileries, reached

La Villette, where Colonel de Fersen with a travelling carriage awaited

them, and drove off towards Bondy, whence they were to make first for

Châlons, and then for Montmédy, a frontier town. The next morning Paris

woke up without a king. La Fayette, who had been wanting in vigilance,

defended himself as best he could. An alarm gun was fired from the Pont

Neuf to warn the citizens that the country was in the greatest danger,

for it was quite understood that the passage of the frontier by the king

and queen would be the signal for a foreign invasion. The National

Assembly met, and at once took into its hands the supreme direction of

affairs.

"This is our king!" said the Republicans; and Louis, by his flight, had

in fact ceased to reign. Before leaving the Tuileries Louis XVI. had

placed in the hands of La Porte, intendant of the civil list, a protest

against the manner in which he had been treated, which was duly laid

before the Assembly. Meanwhile, he had arrived at St. Ménéhould without

accident, where he found himself protected by a detachment of dragoons

which had arrived the night before. Here, however, his misfortunes

began, for he was at once recognised by Drouet, a retired soldier now

acting as postmaster. Called upon for horses, the young man could have

no doubt but that the royal personages who required them were bound

for the frontier, and he resolved to prevent their escape from France.

With the dragoons in occupation of the village he could not refuse to

supply horses; and the carriage which bore Louis and his fortunes, now

approaching the end of its critical journey, went off in an easterly

direction. Scarcely had the post chaise departed when Drouet, aided by

a friend named Guillaume, also a retired soldier, called out by beat of

drum the local national guard, and ordered it to prevent the dragoons

from leaving the village. He then, together with Guillaume, galloped

after the royal carriage, followed by a sub-officer of dragoons named

Lagache, who, escaping from St. Ménéhould, had resolved to catch them

up, and, if possible, kill them. Riding along, Drouet learned that

the carriage had taken the road to Varennes, a town which has twice

played an important part in the history of France, for it was here,

seventy-nine years later, that the King of Prussia established his

head-quarters on the eve of the battle of Sedan.

[Illustration: THE CHESTNUTS OF THE TUILERIES.]

By crossing a wood Drouet and Guillaume succeeded in getting to Varennes

a trifle sooner than the royal carriage. Passing, at no great pace, the

lumbering vehicle just as it was approaching the town, they at once made

for the bridge on the other side of Varennes, which, as old soldiers,

they saw the necessity of blocking, for beyond it, on the other side

of the river Aire, they had discovered the presence of a detachment of

cavalry under the command of a German officer, who, losing his head,

took to flight. The energetic Drouet had already waked up the town,

and, in particular, the principal officials, such as the Mayor, the

Procureur of the Commune, &c. The population answered to Drouet's call,

and soon a small body of armed men was on foot.

[Illustration: LOUIS XVI. STOPPED AT VARENNES BY DROUET.]

The fugitives were bound for the Hôtel du Grand Monarque. At this hotel

a tradition is preserved which was communicated to the present writer

by the proprietress, Mme. Gauthier, just before the battle of Sedan.

Dinner was prepared there for Louis XVI. eight days running; from which

it would appear that he was trying to escape from the Tuileries for

eight days before he at last succeeded in getting away unobserved. The

eighth, like all the preceding dinners cooked for the unfortunate king

at the Hôtel du Grand Monarque, was destined to remain uneaten. It was

now late at night, and when the royal carriage entered the town, it

was surrounded in the darkness by a number of armed men, who asked for

passports, and showed by their attitude that they had no intention of

allowing the occupants of the vehicle to proceed any further. Emissaries

from Varennes had been despatched in all haste to the surrounding

villages and nearest towns to call out the national guard. The son of

M. de Bouillé had meantime quitted the cavalry outside Varennes, and

ridden towards Metz to inform the governor, his father, of the arrival

of the fugitives. But when the commandant arrived outside Varennes with

an entire regiment of cavalry, the town was occupied by 10,000 infantry,

and all the approaches guarded in such a manner that it was impossible

for de Bouillé's regiment to act.

The Procureur, to whose house the royal family had been taken, informed

the king in the early morning that he was recognised. A crowd, which

had gathered before the house, called for him by name, and when Louis

showed himself at the window he understood from the attitude of the mob

that though he was saluted here and there with cries of "Vive le Roi!"

there was an end to his project of reaching the frontier. At six o'clock

couriers arrived from Paris with a decree from the Assembly ordering

the king's arrest; and at eight o'clock on the morning of the 22nd of

June, 1791, the royal family started under escort for the capital. They

were surrounded at the moment of departure by an immense mob, a portion

of which followed them for some distance along the road. At Epernay

the commissaries appointed by the Assembly, MM. Pétion and Barnave,

were waiting to take the direction of the cortege. On being questioned

the king declared that he had never intended to leave the kingdom,

and that his object in retiring to Montmédy had been to study the new

Constitution at his ease, so that, with a clear conscience, he might

be able to accept it. Barnave and Pétion got into the royal carriage

as if to prevent all possibility of escape. Louis was treated with all

the respect due to a royal captive, but his position was that of a

prisoner. Reaching Paris three days after his departure from Varennes,

he was received by the people with the greatest coldness. On the walls

of the streets through which he passed, these words had been inscribed:

"Whoever applauds Louis XVI. will be beaten; whoever insults him will

be hanged." To avoid the popular thoroughfares, the Tuileries was

approached by way of the Champs Élysées, and once more Louis took up his

abode in the ancient palace of the French kings.

Differences between Louis XVI. and the Assembly, which, from

"Constituent" had become "Legislative," now suddenly occurred; and at

the beginning of 1792 the Jacobin Rhul complained from the tribune

that the king had treated with disrespect certain commissaries of the

Assembly who had waited upon him. On the 25th of July of the same year

the king was accused in the Chamber of collecting arms at the Tuileries.

National guards, it was said, went in armed and came out unarmed; and it

was declared to be unsafe for the National Assembly to have an arsenal

of this kind in its immediate neighbourhood. Accordingly, the Assembly

decreed that the terrace of the Tuileries gardens must be regarded

as its property, and be placed beneath the care of the Assembly's

own police. The king objected, naturally enough, to the gardens of

his palace being thus interfered with. "The nation," said one of the

deputies, "lodges the king at the Palace of the Tuileries, but I read

nowhere that it has given him the exclusive enjoyment of the gardens."

Some days afterwards the same deputy, Kersaint by name, said from the

tribune: "The Assembly having thrown open one of the terraces of the

Tuileries gardens, the king, who does not think fit to render the rest

of the gardens accessible to the public, has lined the terrace with a

hedge of grenadiers."

Chabot called the garden of the Tuileries "a second Coblentz," in

reference to the German fortified town where the allied sovereigns,

who were plotting against the Revolution, had their head-quarters. On

the 19th of August a journeyman painter named Bougneux sent word to

the Assembly that there had recently been constructed in the Palace of

the Tuileries several masked cupboards. Three months afterwards Roland

brought to the Convention the papers of the famous iron cupboard.

"They were concealed," he said, "in such a place, in such a manner,

that unless the only person in Paris who knew the secret had given

information it would have been impossible to discover them. They were

behind a panel," he continued, "let into the wall and closed in by an

iron door." The members of the Mountain, as the extreme party occupying

the highest seats in the legislative chamber were called, accused Roland

of having opened the metallic cupboard in order to make away with the

papers of a compromising character for his friends the Girondists. In

revolutionary times a good action may be as compromising as a bad one.

Brissot proposed about this time that the meetings of the Convention

should be held at the Tuileries. Vergniaud had preferred the Madeleine.

"Not," he said, "in either case, that liberty has need of luxury. Sparta

will live as long as Athens in the memory of nations; the tennis court

as long as the palaces of Versailles and of the Tuileries. The external

architecture of the Madeleine is most imposing. It may be looked upon

as a monument worthy of liberty, and of the French nation." It need

scarcely be explained that at the _jeu de paume_, or tennis court, the

first revolutionary meetings were held.

"At the Tuileries," said Brussonnet, "there is a finer hall; and the

greater the questions which the National Assembly will have to treat the

greater must be the number of hearers and spectators." It was at last

decreed that the Minister of the Interior should order the preparation

at the Tuileries of a suitable hall for the debates of the National

Convention; and with that object a sum of 300,000 francs was voted.

On the 4th of September, 1793, Chaumette, in the name of the Paris

commune, appeared at the bar of the Convention, then presided over

by Robespierre, and spoke as follows: "We demand that all the public

gardens be cultivated in a useful manner. We beg you to look for a

moment at the immense garden of the Tuileries. The eyes of republicans

will rest with more pleasure on this former domain of the crown when

it is turned to some good account. Would it not be better to grow

plants in view of the hospitals, than to let the grounds be filled with

statues, _fleurs de lis_, and other objects which serve no purpose but

to minister to the luxury and the pride of kings?" Dussaulx added with

a smile: "I demand that the Champs Élysées be given up at the same time

as the gardens of the Tuileries to useful cultivation." It was at the

Tuileries that the Committee of Public Safety held its meetings: that

irresponsible body which struck so many and such sanguinary blows at

the accomplices, real or imaginary, of invasion from abroad, and of

insurrection at home. In the Tuileries gardens took place the festival

of the Supreme Being, when proclamation was solemnly made, under the

authority of Robespierre, that the French people believed in God and the

immortality of the soul. "People of France," cried Robespierre, between

two executions, "let us to-day give ourselves up to the transports of

pure unmingled joy. To-morrow we must return to our progress against

tyranny and crime." To Robespierre's passionate declamation succeeded

solemn music, composed by Méhul. Soon afterwards Tallien, inspired to an

act of daring by the news that the woman he loved and afterwards married

had been condemned to death, denounced Robespierre; and it was at the

Tuileries that the Reign of Terror, like so many other reigns, came to

an end.

On the 1st of February, 1800, Bonaparte took possession of the

Tuileries, with his wife Joséphine. In 1814 he quitted the ancient

palace with Marie Louise. The Tuileries was now on the point of being

occupied by foreigners. "When I returned to Paris," writes Mme. de

Staël, "Germans, Russians, Cossacks, Baskirs, were to be seen on all

sides. Was I in Germany or in Russia? Had Paris been destroyed and

something like it raised up with a new population? I was all confusion.

In spite of the pain I felt I was grateful to the foreigners for having

shaken off our yoke. But to see them in possession of Paris! to see them

occupying the Tuileries!"

Louis XVIII. and Charles X. both reigned at the Tuileries. But in

July, 1830, the Revolution once more took possession of the palace;

and in 1848, after the flight of Louis Philippe, the mob again ruled

for a time in the home of the French kings. In 1848 the Provisional

Government converted the Tuileries into an asylum for civilians. But

the conversion was made only on paper, and in 1852 the Tuileries became

for the second time an imperial palace--the palace of Napoleon III. The

fate of the historical structure was, as everyone knows, to be burnt by

the Communards. It was on the 24th of May, 1871, when the Versailles

troops were already in the Champs Élysées, that the central dome of

the palace, the wings, the whole building in short, was seen to be in

flames. The new portions of the palace alone refused to burn. Then,

in their rage, the incendiaries had recourse to gunpowder, and during

the night a formidable explosion was heard. The troops of the Commune,

commanded by the well-known General Bergeret, had retired some hours

before. Bergeret, however, was not responsible for the incendiarism; and

the person afterwards tried for it and condemned to hard labour for life

(in commutation of the death punishment to which he was first sentenced)

was a certain Benoit, formerly a private in the line, then, during the

siege, a lieutenant in the National Guard, and finally colonel under the

Commune.

[Illustration: THE ROYAL FAMILY AT VARENNES.]

The gardens of the Tuileries are now more than ever open to the reproach

brought against them by the men of the Revolution, who objected to

statues adorning its terraces and walls, and wished its works of art

to be replaced by lettuces and cabbages. All the greatest sculptors of

France are represented in the Tuileries gardens, which also contain many

admirable reproductions of ancient statues and groups.

There is one interesting walk in the Tuileries gardens which is the

favourite resort of children. Here it was, in the so-called _petite

Provence_, that the children's stamp exchange was established, against

which the authorities found it necessary to take severe steps. The

young people have since contented themselves with balls, balloons, and

other innocent amusements. There is a Théâtre Guignol, moreover, a sort

of Punch and Judy, in the middle of the old gardens; and from the

beginning of April to the middle of October a military band plays every

day. It is impossible to leave the Tuileries gardens without mentioning

its famous chestnut tree--the chestnut tree, as it is called, "of the

20th of March," because in 1814 it blossomed on that very day as if to

celebrate Napoleon's return from Elba. But the old chestnut tree had a

reputation of its own long before the imperial era. More than a hundred

years ago the painter Vien, at that time pupil of the French School, was

accused of having assassinated a rival who had competed with him for a

prize. He was about to be arrested when he proved that at the very hour

when the crime must have been committed he was tranquilly seated beneath

the future "chestnut tree of the 20th of March," which was distinguished

just then from all the other trees in the garden by being alone in

flower. This picturesque _alibi_ saved his life.

[Illustration: MONUMENT TO GAMBETTA, PLACE DU CARROUSEL.]

Outside the remains of the Tuileries was erected, on the Place du

Carrousel, in 1888, a monument to Gambetta. The design as a whole has

been unfavourably criticised, but the figure of the orator himself,

represented in the act of declamation, is bold and striking, and full of

character.