DIJON, THE CITY OF THE DUKES
[Illustration: KEY of VAULTING DIJON]
Of no city of France are there more splendid ducal memories than of
Dijon. To the French historians it has ever been known as "the city of
the glorious dukes." It is one of the cities which has best conserved
its picturesque panoramic silhouette in Europe. Certainly no other of
the cities of modern France can approach it in this respect. Its
strikingly mediæval skyline serrated with spires, donjon and gables
innumerable gives it a _cachet_ all its own. Its situation, too, is
remarkable, lying as it does snugly wrapped between the mountain and the
plain by the flanks of the gently rolling _coteaux_ round about. Dijon
is still a veritable reminder of the moyen-age in spite of the fact that
countless of its palaces, towers and clochers have disappeared with the
march of time and the insistent movement of progress.
This was less true a generation or so ago. Then the city's old ramparts
were intact. To-day not more than a scant area of house front or garden
wall suggests the one time part that the same stones played in the glory
of war and siege. Nearby, too, the contemplation of Dijon evokes the
same emotions in spite of a monotonous modernity to be seen in the new
quarters of the town, where all is a dull drab in strong contrast to the
liveliness of the colouring of the older parts. Dijon, take it all in
all, is indeed a museum of architectural splendours.
"_Nous allions admirant clochers, portails et tours,_
_Et les vielles maisons dans les arrière cours._"
Thus said Saint-Beauve, and any who come this way to-day, and linger
long enough in the city of the dukes, may well take it for their text.
After many and diverse fortunes Dijon became the capital of the Duché de
Bourgogne in 1015 under Duc Robert, the first of the line of Burgundian
dukes, known as the dukes of the _première race royale_. This
particular Robert was the grandson of Hugues Capet. Twelve princes in
succession (until 1349) ruled the destinies of the dukedom from the
capital, and showered upon its inhabitants benefits galore. At this time
Philippe de Rouvres came into the control of the duchy, under the
tutelage of his mother, Jeanne de Bourgogne.
One reads in the "Rôle des Dépenses" of 1392 unmistakable facts which
point to the luxury which surrounded the court of Burgundy in the
fourteenth century. Particularly is this so with regard to the
_garde-robe_ of Philippe-le-Hardi, wherein all his costumes, including
the trappings of his horses, were garnished with real gold. Many other
attributes went to make up the gorgeous properties of this admirable
stage setting. There was an elaborate "_chaine à porter reliques_" and
"_la bonne ceinture de Monseigneur Saint Louis_" to be counted among the
_tresor_ of the court.
Amid all this sumptuousness there was a notable regard for the
conservation and safeguarding of governmental funds and property. This
is to be remarked the more because of the fact that the overlord
generally took for his own, and that of his heirs, all that came within
his immediate presence. The Burgundian dukes at Dijon administered
their rule with prudence and good judgment in all particulars until the
Duché and the neighbouring Comté (afterwards the Franche Comté) stood
almost alone among the European states of their time in not being
obliged to own to a profligate hierarchy of administrators.
In all phases of their history the Dijonnais have ever been jealous of
their personal liberties. François Premier, a prisoner at Madrid, had
ceded Burgundy as a part of unwillingly given ransom to Charles Quint,
who had already acquired the Franche Comté. The Dijon parliament would
hear nothing of such a project, and energetically refused to ratify the
treaty, sending their deputies to Cognac, to the convention which had
been called, in protest.
Dijon's chateau was first built by Louis XI to hold in leash his "_bonne
ville de Dijon_." The edifice was only completed in 1572, under Louis
XII. It was in its prime, judging from historical descriptions, a most
curious example of fifteenth century military architecture. The
Dijonnais of late years demanded the suppression, and the clearing away,
of the débris of this old royal chateau, believing (wrongly of course)
that the ducal palace was sufficient to sustain the glory of their
city. Accordingly, there remains nothing to-day of the chateau of the
Louis but a scant funeral pile built up from the stones of the former
chateau merely as a historical guide post, or rather, memorial of what
has once been. Historical enthusiasm and much palavering on the part of
a certain body of local antiquarians against the popular wave of
feeling, could accomplish no more of a restoration. For the past fifty
years the ruin has been, it is true, something of an eye-sore, an
ill-kept, badly guarded, encumbering ruin, and unless it may be better
taken care of, it would be as well to have it removed.
In form this chateau was a perfectly rectangular tower, sustained at
each corner by a round tower of lesser proportions. As a whole it was
one of the most massive works of its era in these parts. Its defence
towards the north was a great horse-shoe shaped redoubt, a most unusual
and most efficient rampart. Towards the city it was defended by a moat
over which one entered the chateau proper by the traditional drawbridge.
The vast monumental pile at Dijon which bears the name of Hôtel de Ville
to-day has been variously known as the Palais des Ducs, the Logis du Roi
and the Palais des États. It has served all three purposes and served
them well and with becoming dignity.
The exact origin of the structure has been left behind in the dim
distance, but it is certain that it was the outgrowth of some sort of a
foundation which existed as early as the tenth century, a period long
before the coming of the so-called chateau.
In the twelfth century Hugues III built the Sainte Chapelle, all
vestiges of which, save certain decorative elements built into the
eastern wall of the Palais des Ducs, have now disappeared.
Philippe-le-Hardi, in 1366, almost entirely rebuilt the palace as it
then existed, and Philippe-le-Bon actually did complete the work in
1420, when the great square Tour de la Terrasse, of a height of nearly
fifty metres, was built. There is still existing another minor tower,
the Tour de Bar, so named from the fact that for three years it was the
prison of René d'Anjou, the Duc de Bar. In 1407 and 1502 this tower was
nearly destroyed by fire, which carried away as well a great part of the
main structure of that time.
The edifice is to-day occupied by many civic departments, including the
Musée, the Archives and the École des Beaux Arts, but the Salle des
Gardes and the "Cuisines des Ducs" still remain, as to their general
outlines of walls and ceilings, as they were when they served the dukes
themselves.
The present edifice, in spite of being known as the Ducal Palace, was
not inhabited by any of the nobles of the first race; there is no part
which dates from so early a period as that of the end even of their
régime. The most ancient of the elements which formerly made up the
collective block of buildings was the Sainte Chapelle, which was
demolished in 1802, and the _rez-de-chaussee_ of the Tour de Bar, which
still exists. The lower part of this tower dates from the thirteenth
century, the upper portions from the fourteenth.
[Illustration: CUISINES at DIJON]
From the ducal account books it appears that the portions known as the
"Cuisines"--actually housing the Musée Lapidaire to-day--were
constructed in 1445, and it is this part of the old palace which is the
most interesting because it best illustrates the manner of building
hereabouts at that period.
The Burgundian court attached great importance to the service at table,
and during the fifteenth century there was not in all of Europe a line
of princes who were better fed or got more satisfaction from the joys of
the table. This is historic fact, not mere conjecture! The descriptions
of the _festins_ which were given by the Ducs de Bourgogne and described
in the "Mémoires d'Olivier de la Marche" make interesting reading to one
who knows anything of, and has any liking for, the chronicles of
gastronomy.
For such a bountiful serving at table as was habitual with the dukes,
kitchens of the most ample proportions were demanded. It is recounted
that on many occasions certain of the _mets_ were cooked in advance, but
a prodigious supply of soups, ragouts and sauces, of fish, _volaille_,
and _rotis_ were of necessity to be prepared at the moment of
consumption. To produce these in their proper order and condition was
the work of an army of cooks supported by a numerous "_batterie de
cuisine_;" necessarily they required an ample room in which to work. The
modern French cook demands the same thing to-day. Details in this line
do not change so rapidly in this "land of good cooks" as elsewhere, for
the French chef is still supreme and cares not for labour or time-saving
appliances.
The "Cuisines," as to their ground plan, form a perfect square, the roof
being borne aloft by eight columns, which on three sides of the
apartment serve as supporters also for the great twin-hooded chimneys.
Two _potagers_, or _braisers_, where the pots might be kept simmering,
were at B on the plan, and the oven, or _foyer ardente_ was at C. D was
a well, and E its means of access. The windows were at F and G, and H
was a great central smoke-pipe, or opening in the roof, which served the
same functions as the hole in the roof of the Indian's wigwam. K was a
serving table, made also of stone, to receive the dishes after being
cooked; and, that they might not become literally stone cold before
being finally served, this table had a sort of subterranean heating
arrangement.
The conglomerate structure of to-day which serves its civic functions so
well is an outgrowth of all these varied components which made up the
ducal residence of old. It was midway in its career that it became the
Parliament House of the États de Bourgogne, so it took naturally to its
new function when it came to uphold merely civic dignity.
The apartment where sat the Burgundian Parliament, the Salle des États,
has been recently restored and decorated with a series of wall paintings
depicting the glories of Burgundy. It is a seemingly appropriate
decoration and in every way admirably executed, though the name attached
thereto may not be as famous as that of an Abbey or a Sargent.
In general the character of the great pile of buildings to-day, on
account of the heterogeneous aspect of the mass, forbids any strict
estimate applicable to its artistic merits. The most that can be
ventured is to comment on that which is definitely good.
At many times during its career it has been remodelled and added to by
many able hands. As a result there are naturally many worthy bits which
may be discovered by close observation that in general run a fair chance
of being overlooked. Two pupils of Mansart worked upon the remodelling
of the structure, and Mansart himself designed the colonnade and the
vestibule of the Salle des États. Twelve principal buildings surrounding
the main courtyard came into being from time to time, and in one
[Illustration: _Chateau des Ducs, Dijon_]
form or another they are all there to-day, though in the scantiest of
fragments in some instances. An old-time iron gateway, or _grille_,
still exists midway between the two principal façades of the Doric
order. The effect of this façade is heavy, but ornate: frankly it is bad
architecture, but it is imposing. It is bad because it is a manifest
Italian interpolation with little or nothing in common with other
decorative details to be seen, details which are of the transplanted
French variety of Renaissance, and that in truth is far and away ahead
of anything in Italy or any rank copy of anything of Italian origin.
The old Place Royale opened out fan-like before the building and gave a
certain spectacular effect which saved it from ultra bad taste at that
period. The Place d'Armes, before the present Hotel de Ville (which now
occupies the principal part of the old ducal palace), and the Place des
Ducs, at the rear, lend the same artistic aid which was performed by the
Place Royale in its time.
Of the interior arrangements but little remains as it was of old save a
range of vaulted rooms on the lower floor, the Salle des Gardes, the
apartments of the Tour de Bar and the "Cuisines." The public functions
which have been performed by the structure in late years have nearly
swept away the old glamour of romance and chivalry which might otherwise
have hung about the place for ages, so that to-day it is, like many
edifices of its class in France, simply a hive of office-holders and
little-worked authorities of the state and civic administrations. It is
difficult to see any romance in the visage of a modern town-clerk or a
sergeant-at-arms.
This old palace of the dukes was chiefly the work of Dijon craftsmen, at
least those portions which were built in the sixteenth century or
immediately after. This is the more to be remarked because the gables
and roof-tops are not unlike that Flemish-Gothic of the Hospice de
Beaune which was built by alien hands.
At Dijon the northern portal was designed by Brouhée and the roofing of
the Grande Salle was made from the plans of Sambin and Chambrette, as
was the doorway from the street to the chapel. The Chambre Dorée has a
most beautiful ceiling of the time of François Premier, and the
_boiseries_ and the _grisaille_ of the same apartment date from the
period of Louis XIII.
There are two other notable ceilings in the edifice, those of the
Bibliothèque and the Salle d'Assises.
Dijon has ever been noted down by those who know as a city of a
distinctly local and a really great and celebrated art. The École de
Dijon was a unique thing which had no counterpart elsewhere. Under the
liberally encouraging patronage of the Ducs de Bourgogne numerous habile
artists banded together and constituted the local "École de Dijon." It
was a body of artists and craftsmen whose careers burned brilliantly
throughout the best period of the Renaissance, indeed up to its end, for
the Hôtel de Vogué at Dijon, of a very late period, shows the distinct
local manner of building at its best.
Hugues Sambin, who designed the Palace of the Burgundian Parliament, was
the best known of these Dijon craftsmen--best known perhaps because of
his architectural writings (1572), for his work was not indeed superior
to that of his fellows. His dwelling exists to-day at Dijon, in the Rue
de la Vannerie, somewhat disfigured and not at all reminiscent of the
great capabilities of his art which he so freely bestowed on the more
magnificent structures of his clients. A tower, presumably a part of the
house itself, rises close beside, and on its vaulting one sees the
_devise_ "Tout par Compas," the same that may be seen in the Hôtel de
Vogué, though it is declared that there is no other connection between
the two save that Sambin had a hand in the construction of both. The
motto is undeniably a good one for an architect.
The local Museum contains one of the most important provincial
collections in France. It occupies the ancient Salle des Gardes of the
Palais and encloses the tombs of Jean-Sans-Peur and Philippe-le-Hardi.
As examples of the sculptures of the Burgundian school of the fifteenth
century these ornate tombs are in the very first category. They were
brought from the Chartreux de Dijon in 1795. How they escaped
Revolutionary desecration is a marvel, but here they are to-day in all
the glory of their admirable design and execution. If Sargent's frieze
of the prophets in the Boston Public Library was not inspired by these
cowled figures surrounding the ducal tombs at Dijon, it must be a dull
critic indeed who will not at least admit the suggestion of similarity.
The mausoleum of Philippe-le-Hardi has a single recumbent effigy on the
slab above, whilst that of Jean-Sans-Peur is accompanied by another,
that of his wife, Marguerite de Bavière. The tiny statuettes in the
niches of the arcade below, and surrounding each of the tombs, are
similar; finely chiselled, weeping, mourning figures, most exquisitely
sculptured and disposed.
The tomb of Philippe-le-Hardi is the older, and is the work of Claus
Sluter and Claus de Werve; that of Jean-Sans-Peur was conceived (half a
century later) by Jehan de la Heurta and Antoine Moiturier. A statue of
Anne de Bourgogne, the Duchess of Bedford, the daughter of
Jean-Sans-Peur, stands between these two royal tombs.
It is worthy to note that the robe of the statue of Marguerite de
Bavière is sown with that particular species of field daisy which we
have come to know as the _marguerite_, so named from the predilection of
the princess in question for that humble flower.
Dijon's Maison de Saint François-de-Sales may well be given passing
consideration for reasons stated below. It dates from 1541 and thus
belongs to an epoch when the art of the Renaissance was at its height.
It is an elaborately conceived edifice and, judging from the escutcheons
of its façade, was the habitation, at one time or another, of some of
the royal family of France. In spite of this the authorities have
little definite to say with regard to its founders.
On the svelt tourelle at the side one notes that the lead _épi_, or
weather-vane, is intact, a remarkable fact when one considers that it
has endured for nearly five centuries. All things considered, this
dainty habitation is one of the most pleasing and ornate structures of
its class. If it were at Azay-le-Rideau in Touraine, or at Beaugency on
the Loire, it would be heralded far and wide as one of the flowers of
the Renaissance. To rank it in any place but as one of the most charming
_hôtels privés_, or small town chateaux, of Burgundy would be a grave
error.
Dijon possesses as well a most curious and little known structure, at
least not known to the usual hurly burly world of tourists. It is near
the Palais de Justice, enclosed behind a high protecting wall, through
which easy access is to be had by a gateway opened on request. The
edifice is mysteriously called the Hôtel de Venus, and is a diminutive
edifice with its entire outer wall garlanded with flowers and emblems
cut deep into its rather crumbly stones. Just what the significance of
this strange building was, and who, or what, were its antecedents, is in
great doubt.
Dijon's Bibliothèque occupies a part of the great town house built by
Odinet Godran in 1681. The Departmental Archives occupy the restored
city dwelling of Nicolas Rollin, the Chancellor of the first Burgundian
Parliament. It is a reconstruction now of the eighteenth century, but
originally came into being in the fifteenth. The principal apartment
owns to a richly sculptured chimney-piece and an elaborate _plafond à
caissons_, each the work of Rancurelle, a seventeenth century sculptor
of Dijon.
In the Rue des Forges are numerous old Renaissance houses, many of them
of a grandeur which entitles them to a higher rank than a mere _maison
bourgeoise_. Many of them indeed bear the proud names of the old
Burgundian noblesse. One is called the Maison des Ambassadeurs
d'Espagne, though just why, history is dark. One can readily surmise
however, for it certainly is a luxuriously appointed dwelling in spite
of the fact that it lacks a definite history.
Near the Eglise Notre Dame are the Maison Milsand, the old Hôtel des
Ambassadeurs d'Angleterre; the Hôtel du Vogué is in the Rue
Chaudronnerie, and also the Maison des Cariatides. All are admirable
examples of the Burgundian Renaissance, which tells its history in its
stones. And what history!
The old Hôtel des Ambassadeurs d'Angleterre was the residence of the
Duke of Bedford when he married, in 1423, Anne de Bourgogne. The alleys
and the "park," supposedly designed by the famous "Le Notre, the man of
gardens," who was responsible for those of Versailles and Vaux, are
little changed to-day from what they were in the century of Louis XIV.