Quelle matière fut jamais plus disposée à recevoir tous les

ornements d'une grave et solide éloquence, que la vie et la mort de

très-haut et très-puissant Prince Henri de la Tour d'Auvergne,

vicomte de Turenne, maréchal général des camps et armées du roi et

colonel général de la cavalerie légère? Où brillent avec plus

d'éclat les effets glorieux de la vertu militaire: conduite

d'armées, sièges de places, prises de villes, passages de rivières,

attaques hardies, retraites honorables, campements bien ordonnés,

combats soutenus, batailles gagnées, ennemis vaincus par la force,

dissipés par l'adresse, lassés et consumés par une sage patience;

où peut-on trouver tant et de si puissants exemples que dans les

actions d'un homme sage, modeste, libéral, désintéressé, dévoué au

service du prince et de la patrie, grand dans l'adversité par son

courage, dans la prospérité par sa modestie, dans les difficultés

par sa prudence, dans les périls par sa valeur, dans la religion

par sa piété.

Yet another celebrated orator, Massillon, was often heard at S.

Eustache, and in 1704, preaching upon the small number of the elect, so

terrified were his hearers that they all rose as one man, when he

pronounced the words of the Supreme Judge. A lesser man, who rose to be

a Cardinal, perhaps more by intrigues than anything else, was Guillaume

Dubois. He was born at Brives-la-Gaillarde in 1657, and coming to Paris,

he entered, while still quite young, the service of the _curé_ of S.

Eustache. Thence he obtained engagements as tutor to the great

personages of the neighbourhood; entering the house of the Duc de

Chartres, he managed to obtain the abbey of Saint-Just, in the diocese

of Beauvais. A grand monument by Coustou was erected to his memory in

the church of S. Honoré, with an epitaph composed by Couture, which

seems to be a slight satire upon the worldly-minded who love the rich

things of this nether world. After giving the titles of the defunct, the

lines go on: "_Quid autem hi titulis nisi arcus coloratus et fumus ad

modicum parens Viator, stabiliora, solidioraque bona mortuo apprecare,

etc., etc. Mais que sont ces dignités? nuages brillants, fumée qui

s'évapore. Passant, demande à Dieu pour ce mort des biens plus stables

et plus solides._"

S. Eustache is still famous for its processions, and few churches are so

fitted for grand ceremonial; but what are the functions of to-day

compared with those of the 18th century? Here is an extract from the

archives giving an outline of the procession upon the Fête Dieu, 20th

June, 1716, during the minority of Louis XV.:--

Several lacqueys bearing torches.

Footmen of M. le duc de Charot with lights at the top of their

weapons.

Sixteen footmen of M. le Comte de Toulouse.

Six pages of my lord count.

The preceptor of the pages of M. the duc d'Orléans, the Regent, in

long cassock and surplice; their tutor bearing a taper; twelve

pages of His Royal Highness, and two sub-tutors.

The banner of the confraternity of the Holy Sacrament.

The cross of the clergy of S. Eustache.

An officer bearing a cushion for His Royal Highness.

The _Suisses_ armed, carrying halbards upon their shoulders and

torches in their hands, the officers at their head accompanied by

drums and fifes.

The dais of the Holy Sacrament, borne by high personages.

The _curé_ under the dais.

Monseigneur le duc d'Orléans carrying a taper, preceded by several

officers of his house, and two chaplains in surplices.

An officer bearing a bouquet of His Royal Highness.

Forty of the body-guard, the councillor of Parliament, and the

churchwardens.

A coach belonging to His Royal Highness, followed by eight guards

on horseback.

The archers of the town bringing up the rear.

The watchmen of Paris arranged in a line from the church door to

the Hôtel de Soissons, on both sides of the Rue Coquillière, with

flags and officers at their head; drums to be beaten when His Royal

Highness arrives at the church in his coach, and on his return.

In 1736 the _reposoir_[70] in the Palais-Royal was constructed from the

design of Servandoni, the architect of S. Sulpice; and its importance

attracted multitudes of curiosity-hunters from all parts of the town.

In 1729 Jean-François-Robert Secousse succeeded his uncle, and was the

author of a pamphlet which he gave away to his parishioners entitled:

_Lettre d'un Curé à N---- au sujet des Spectacles._ His successor,

Jean-Jacques Poupart, was for some time confessor to Louis XVI. and

Marie Antoinette. When the storm arose, he took the oath to the

Constitution; but, finding the lengths to which it carried him, he

retracted, went into hiding, and administered to his flock in secret.

During the early years of the Revolution, no church suffered more than

S. Eustache. Situated in the midst of a populous district, it became the

scene of untold horrors. But it was also the resting place for

Mirabeau's body on its way to the Panthéon, on the 4th April, 1791; and

had nothing worse than the funeral oration by Cerutti, pronounced from

the _banc-d'oeuvre_,[71] taken place, the sacrilege would have been

but small. Trouble was looked for in the following May, when the

hairdressers' assistants caused a service to be said for the great

orator; but instead of the church being invaded by 10,000 persons, as

was expected, a poor 600 were all that put in an appearance, and these

were well conducted. Not so the Women's Club which was held in the

building, if Lamartine's _Histoire des Girondins_[72] is to be trusted:

La société révolutionnaire siégeait á Saint-Eustache; elle était

composée de femmes perdues, aventurières de leur sexe, recrutées

dans le vice, où dans les réduits de la misère, ou dans les

cabanons de la démence. Le scandale de leurs séances, le tumulte de

leurs motions, la bizarrerie de leur éloquence, l'audace de leurs

pétitions importuna le Comité de Salut Public, qui ferma le club.

On peut juger par là ce qu'il devait en être de la pauvre église.

Près de là siégeait aussi le fameux club de la rue Mauconseil.

Another club for women, founded by an actress named Lacombe, was

dissolved after a speech of Robespierre's, in which we find that "Cette

réunion de vraies sans-culottes ne saurait durer plus long-temps, parce

qu'elle prête au ridicule et aux propos malins."

In 1793 the Feast of Reason was celebrated with as much profanity and

indecency here as at Notre-Dame, as witness Mercier's account, told in

the forcible language of Carlyle:

The corresponding festival in the church of S. Eustache offered the

spectacle of a great tavern. The interior of the choir represented

a landscape decorated with cottages and boskets of trees. Round the

choir stood tables overloaded with bottles, with sausages,

pork-puddings, pasties, and other meats. The guests flowed in and

out through all doors; whosoever presented himself took part of the

good things; children of eight, girls as well as boys, put hand to

plate, in sign of Liberty; they drank also of the bottles, and

their prompt intoxication created laughter. Reason sat in azure

mantle aloft, in a serene manner; cannoneers, pipe in mouth,

serving her as acolytes. And out of doors (continues the

exaggerative man) were mad multitudes dancing round the bonfire of

chapel-balustrades, of priests' and canons' stalls; and the

dancers--I exaggerate nothing--the dancers nigh bare of breeches,

neck and breast naked, stockings down, went whirling and spinning,

like those Dust-vortexes, forerunners of Tempest and

Destruction.[73]

S. Eustache was re-opened for divine service sooner than many of the

other churches, M. Poupart coming out of his hiding in June, 1795; but

he had to share his church for some time with the philanthropists and

the municipal councillors, who held their meetings there upon certain

days. And the church was, moreover, but four walls and a roof; nearly

all the contents had vanished. The altars, the bronze statues, the

pulpit, the pictures, the tombs, the slabs and epitaphs, all but the

_banc-d'oeuvre_, had gone to the museum of the Petits-Augustins;

happily, for otherwise they would have gone into the fire.

In 1804, Pius VII., dragged to Paris by Napoleon to perform the

coronation ceremony, was invited to visit S. Eustache and bless a statue

of the Blessed Virgin; which he did with "_une bonté paternelle_." The

occasion naturally called forth all the ceremonial of which the church

was capable: _Suisses_ (beadles), vergers, _MM. les maires_, and _MM.

les marguilliers_, magistrates, _juges de paix_, clergy, M. le curé

Bossic, and his eminence the cardinal archbishop. His Holiness was

received at the church door by the archbishop, M. de Belloy, and divers

other bishops and dignitaries of church and state; who had to submit to

hearing a Latin oration by the _curé_. The music was brilliantly

executed by a large choir, and the ceremonial of an imposing character;

peculiarly touching was the moment when the archbishop, an old man of

ninety-six, who had to be supported by two prelates, mounted the steps

of the altar, and presented the linen cloth to his Holiness for wiping

his hands. After mass a reception took place in one of the chapels, and

a number of the faithful had the honour of "kissing the papal slipper,"

says the account of the ceremony signed by a number of the dignitaries

present.

Among the celebrities buried in the church or the burial-ground hard by

are the following: Bernard de Girard, Seigneur du Haillan, historian,

who died in 1610; Marie Jars de Gournay, the adopted daughter of

Montaigne, and the editress of his essays; Vincent Voiture, poet and

wit, who died in 1650; the Academician François de la Motte-le-Vayer;

the poet Isaac Benserade; another Academician Furetière; the graceful

music-maker, Rameau; the painter, Lafosse; a superintendent of finance,

Claude de Bullion (a curiously appropriate name); Phélippeau, duke of la

Vrillière; the chancellor d'Amenonville; a peer and marshal, François

d'Aubusson de la Feuillade, who worshipped his king, the fourteenth

Louis, and elevated a wondrous monument to his glory, the prancing steed

and man in the Place des Victoires; and a medicine man of the same king

a member, too, of the Academy, Martin Cureau de la Chambre, aged

seventy-five when he died in 1669. The physician is said to have been

the consulter-general of the king, and they carried on a secret

correspondence, in which the former thought that the sovereign would

"_court grand risque de faire à l'avenir de mauvais choix de

ministres_," if he survived Cureau. The last curate buried in the church

was Poupart, in 1796.

What is now the market of S. Joseph was formerly the burial-ground

dedicated to that Saint. It belonged to the parish of S. Eustache, and

in 1630 Chancellor Séguier built a chapel therein at his own expense.

Here Molière and La Fontaine were buried, but the monuments were carried

off to the museum of the Petits-Augustins, where they remained until

1818, when they were re-erected at Père-la-Chaise. Molière was also born

in the parish, at a house, since pulled down, which occupied the site of

the corner of the rue St. Honoré and the rue du Pont Neuf, formerly de

la Tonnellerie.

The following epitaphs used to be in the church, and are interesting;

the two first for their quaintness; the last as a record of an architect

of S. Eustache, if not the original builder:

BARTHÉLÉMI TREMBLET, SCULPTEUR DU ROY, DÉCÉDÉ A L'AGE

DE 61 ANS, EN 1629.

Louvre me donna l'être et Paris la fortune.

J'eus l'honneur d'être au roy, St. Eustache a mes os;

Passant, au nom de Dieu, si je ne t'importune,

Durant ce mien sommeil, pries pour mon repos.

* * * * *

Le monde n'a ésté à _Françoise

Gallois_ que passage à l'éternité;

Elle y a demeuré comme toujours

Preste d'en sortir, Les XXIII années

De son âge, n'ont estées qu'innocence,

Les quarte de son mariage, que paix

Et concorde, les vertus furent ses

Exercices, la piété son contentement,

La crainte de Dieu la conduite de

Sa vie qu'elle finit le XXVIIe Aoust

MDCXVI. Si chrestiennement,

Que _Richard Petit_, son mary,

Conser secrét, du roy, M. et C. de

Fr. ne console l'affliction de son

Absence que par la souvenance

De sa mort.

* * * * *

Cy-devant git le corps

D'honorable homme _Charles David_, vivant sujet du Roy

Es-oeuvres de maçonnerie, doyen des jurés et bourgeois

De Paris, architecte et conducteur du bâtiment de l'Eglise

De céans, lequel après avoir vescu avec _Anne Lemercier_

Sa femme l'espace de 53 ans, il décéda le quatrième jour

De décembre 1650 âgé de 98 ans.

S. Eustache has suffered much of late years by fire and the doings of

wicked men. In 1844 fire attacked the organ, and smoke and water

destroyed a great portion of the church. L'abbé Duguerry, who was shot

in 1871 by the Communists, was _curé_ at the time of the conflagration;

and in order to rebuild the organ, he instituted a lottery, and appealed

for aid to the whole country. Ten years later the new organ was built,

and inaugurated under a new _curé_, Gaudereau, Duguerry having been

appointed to the Madeleine. It was an exquisite instrument, of delicious

tone and with a large number of stops. But alas! during the Commune it

suffered again, several bombs having exploded in the church. Glass was

smashed, organ pipes pierced, and a great deal of damage done to the

roof; and it was several years before the church was restored to its

pristine beauty. In 1879 the organ was finished, having been

reconstructed and very much enlarged by J. Merklin, under a committee of

organists and musicians; other instruments may be larger, but few are so

beautiful in tone. Several of the Paris organs are fine, and the French

school of organists is of all the least conventional. One is not bored

by Rinck and his fellows; one does not hear choruses by Handel intended

to be sung, or solos by the same master upon flute and clarionet stops

with a poor tum-tum accompaniment, or sonatas written for the pianoforte

or violin. That, to some of us, peculiarly irritating form of

composition, the fugue, is rarely heard (except at the Madeleine), and

Batiste, I think, must have held them in holy horror as did Berlioz,

and, was it Chopin? Many a time for years I heard Batiste "touch" the S.

Eustache organ, and surely no more divine sounds (if organ notes can be

divine?) have ever been drawn from an instrument than when he played

some soft, tender, pathetic melody upon the _voix céleste_ or _vox

humana_ with accompaniment upon the far-off stops and tremolo; it was,

in effect, what one might conceive a chorus of Angels accompanying some

beautiful human voice. I know all the principal Paris organs, and most

of them have been played upon by distinguished musicians; I also heard

Lefebure-Wély frequently in former days; but no one seemed to equal or

to excel Batiste in taste. His soft passages were perfection; and when

he made the instrument thunder forth in all its _fortissimo_, it was

grand in the extreme. Such an admiration had I for the musician, that I

looked upon him as an invisible master, and my enthusiasm led me one day

to waylay him as he came down the stairs. Query, if one admires an

artist or an author, a poet or a musician, is it wise to see him in the

flesh? Some painters and pianists, some violinists or singers, have been

appropriately built, so to speak. Nature, sometimes unassisted, more

often aided and pruned, has turned out bodies which are fitted to become

the cases of distinguished minds. But everyone knows instances of actors

and actresses who are nought minus their war-paint; of painters who

might be grocers, and of poets as un-ideal in appearance as any publican

or butterman. On the other hand, there are exquisites behind the

counters, ethereal-looking butchers, and poetic vendors of cooked ham

and beef. It is as if nature had made a number of bodies and minds, and

shuffling them like a pack of cards, had tossed them together without

any thought or heeding. Such seemed to have been the case with Batiste,

for he was the exact model of the French Mossoo so dear to _Punch_--the

Mossoo one so rarely sees out of that sportive periodical. Nevertheless,

the soul within that commonplace body was able to peal forth in most

sublime sounds which touched the hearts of all who heard them. Batiste's

was essentially emotional playing of the highest order. Never shall I

forget the thrill which went through the crowd when he played Chopin's

"Funeral March" at the funeral of the dear old _curé_, l'abbé Simon--the

very type of the courteous, fine-gentleman priests of other days,

without their vices. When, years ago, the abbé Simon and Duguerry his

friend, sat side by side, their finely chiselled features and longish

hair, their elegant manner, and courteous bearing, reminded one of the

portraits of Fléchier, Massillon and Bossuet.

It may interest musicians to know the composition of the S. Eustache

organ, and as many of the stops are French, I may as well give them in

their original names. It has four manuals, and 72 stops; 4356 pipes and

20 pedals.

Grand Orgue 54 notes, 16 stops.

Positif 54 " 14 "

Récit expressif 54 " 16 "

Clavier Bombarde 54 " 11 "

Pédales 30 " 15 "

----

TOTAL 72

1ST MANUAL.--GREAT ORGAN.

ft. ft.

1 Montre 16 10 Nasard 2

2 Montre 8 11 Doublette 2

3 Flûte à pavilion 8 COMBINATION STOPS.

4 Bourdon 8 12 Furniture et Cymbale 3

5 Flûte harmonique 8 13 Cornet 8

6 Viole de Gambe 8 14 Trompette 8

7 Gemshorn 8 15 Clarinette 8

8 Rohrflûte 4 16 Clairon 4

9 Prestant 4

2ND MANUAL.--CHOIR ORGAN.

ft. ft.

1 Montre 8 9 Clochette 1

2 Bourdon 8 COMBINATION STOPS.

3 Keraulophone 8 10 Plein jeu 2

4 Flûte harmonique 8 11 Clarinette 16

5 Bourdon 16 12 Cromhorn 8

6 Flûte harmonique 4 13 Trompette 8

7 Fugara 4 14 Clairon 4

8 Doublette 2

3RD MANUAL.--SWELL ORGAN.

SOLO STOPS.

ft. ft.

1 Viole de Gambe 8 9 Trompette harmonique. 8

2 Voix céleste 8 10 Clairon 4

3 Bourdon 8 JEUX DE FOND.

4 Piccolo 1 11 Bourdon 16

5 Basson-Hautbois 8 12 Principal 8

6 Voix humaine 8 13 Flûte harmonique 8

COMBINATION STOPS. 14 Flûte octaviante 4

7 Cornet 8 15 Prestant 4

8 Trombone 16 16 Flageolet 2

4TH MANUAL.--SOLO ORGAN.

ft. COMBINATION STOPS.

1 Bourdon 16 ft.

2 Gambe 16 7 Cornet 16

3 Gambe 8 8 Bombarde 16

4 Salicional 8 9 Trompette 8

5º Quintaton 8 10 Cor anglais 8

6º Dulciana 4 11 Clairon 4

PEDALS.

ft. ft.

1 Principal 32 9 Flûte 4

2 Flûte 16 COMBINATION STOPS.

3 Sous-Basse 16 10 Bombarde 32

4 Contrebasse 16 11 Bombarde 16

5 Grosse Flûte 8 12 Basson 16

6 Quinte 12 13 Basson 8

7º Violoncelle 8 14 Trompette 8

8º Bourdon 8 15 Clairon 4

COMBINATION STOPS FOR THE SWELL.

SOLO | ANCHES | FONDS

TREMOLO | TREMOLO | TREMOLO

COMBINATION PEDALS.

1 Tonnerre.

2 Tirasse du 1er clavier sur le

pédalier.

3 Tirasse du 2me clavier sur le

pédalier.

4 Tirasse du 3me clavier sur le

pédalier.

5 Tirasse du 4me clavier sur le

pédalier.

6 Réunion du mécanisme des

jeux du 1er clavier sur le

levier pneumatique.

7 Accouplement du 2me clavier

sur le 1er.

8 Accouplement du 3me clavier

sur le 1er, à l'unisson.

9 Accouplement du 4me clavier

sur le 1er.

10 Accouplement du 4me clavier

sur le 3me.

11 Accouplement du 3me clavier

à l'octave grave sur le

1er clavier.

12 Forte général.

13 Introduction des jeux de

combinaisons du pédalier.

14 Introduction des jeux de

combinaisons du 1er clavier.

15 Introduction des jeux de

combinaisons du 2me clavier.

16 Introduction des jeux de

combinaisons du 4me clavier.

17 Expression sur le 3me clavier

récit.

No one should omit visiting S. Eustache on S. Cecilia's day (November

22), when a grand mass is always performed, with full orchestra, in aid

of the Society of Musicians; and indeed, any Sunday the music is quite

well worth hearing, and the ceremonial is the finest in Paris. At the

same time much has been lost by the substitution of the Roman for the

Parisian rite, which took place in 1876. In the former, two acolytes

swing the censers; in the latter, four or six acolytes standing in a row

threw them up on high six times, the last time catching them while

kneeling on one knee. As has been said, the grand effect of this use can

never be forgotten by those who saw it.

The church owes the new marble pavement to its good _curé_ l'abbé Simon,

one of the heroes of the Commune, and, almost, one of its victims. So

much has been related (and with justice) against the _Communards_, that

an incident connected with S. Eustache ought not to be forgotten. The

day the abbé Simon was arrested he had three thousand _francs_ in his

pocket, which were destined to pay for the pavement of the choir. Of

course upon his arrival at the prison they were given up to the police,

and were not restored when the _curé_ was released through the

intervention of his _chères paroissiennes, les Dames de la Halle_, who

went _en masse_ to demand his freedom. On Easter Monday, however, Raoul

Rigault's secretary went to the sacristry, asked M. Simon if the money

had been returned, and finding that it had not, he left the church, to

return in an hour's time, with the three thousand _francs_ intact.

In the south transept is a little Gothic statue of S. John, and on the

wall is a sad memorial of the names of all the hostages who suffered

death under the Commune, headed by the archbishop (Darboy) and the

_curé_ of the Madeleine, Duguerry, who was formerly _curé_ of S.

Eustache.

S. Eustache, like most large churches, looks grandest in the evening,

when the altar is ablaze with lights, and long vistas fade away into the

darkness; but under all conditions it is a splendid church, a mass of

harmonious colouring from floor to ceiling. At the evening services

during Lent, it is seen to advantage; or again on Christmas Day at

vespers, when it is resplendent with lights; those curious and

unchurchlike glass chandeliers filled with candles, and clusters of gas

jets round the walls.

Another great day is Good Friday, when Rossini's "Stabat Mater" is

performed. It is always beautifully rendered, but for three-fourths of

the crowd which assembles--and the church is always crammed--for most of

the people it is a mere performance. So is the midnight mass on

Christmas Day. Religious enthusiasm carries one away upon one or two

occasions; the sentiment is exquisite; the emotions which are aroused

are of the purest, and we feel almost that we are by the veritable

manger listening to the heavenly Host: "Glory to God in the Highest."

But alas! human beings are but mortal; and so upon experience we find

that the crowds who attend the mass do so mainly as a pastime before the

_réveillon_; that is the function of the night; eating and drinking,

junkettings and merrymakings; and just a little church-going to fill up

the time until the hour of feasting commences. Cardinal Manning in his

wisdom saw this many years ago, and stopped the practice of saying

midnight mass, a measure he probably regretted as much as any of us; for

apart from its being a very ancient custom, it is a most poetic idea,

appealing strongly to our best emotions and our most vivid imagination.

SAINT-FRANÇOIS XAVIER.

Until quite lately, the only church in Paris dedicated to the memory of

the great Jesuit was the little chapel belonging to the Missions

Étrangères in the Rue de Bac. The first stone was laid in 1683 by the

archbishop of Paris, in the name of the king. It is a double chapel with

a flight of steps leading from the lower to the upper church.

SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE (LE PANTHÉON).

As we walk up the Rue Soufflot and see the great domed Panthéon facing

us in its Classic glory, it is difficult to realise that the space

occupied by the modern building is but a small portion of what was

formerly the domain of the important abbey of S. Geneviève belonging to

the Augustinian canons. When the religious orders were suppressed in

France, Paris contained nine abbeys: S. Geneviève, S. Victor, belonging

to the Augustins; S. Germain des Prés to the Benedictines; Val des Grâce

to the nuns of S. Benedict; Port-Royal, Pantemont, l'Abbaye aux Bois,

and S. Antoine to the Cistercian nuns; and the Cordelières to the order

of the Poor Clares. An inspection of a pre-Revolution map of the city

shows us that a large part of it was swallowed up by these abbeys and

other monastic lands and properties.

[Illustration: SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE FROM THE RUE SOUFFLOT.]

The Churches of Paris, from Clovis to Charles X · 第 12 / 28 段