Since the Chief Consul has made it his town-residence, this is the
new denomination given to the _Palais des Tuileries_, thus called,
because a tile-kiln formerly stood on the site where it is erected.
At that time, this part of Paris was not comprised within its walls,
nothing was to be seen here, in the vicinity of the tile-kiln, but a
few coppices and scattered habitations.
Catherine de Medicis, wishing to enlarge the capital on this side,
visited the spot, and liking the situation, directed PHILIBERT DE
L'ORME and JEAN BULLAN, two celebrated French architects, to present
her with a plan, from which the construction of this palace was begun
in May 1564. At first, it consisted only of the large square pavilion
in the centre of the two piles of building, which have each a terrace
towards the garden, and of the two pavilions by which they are
terminated.
Henry IV enlarged the original building, and, in 1600, began the
grand gallery which joins it to the _Louvre_, from the plan of DU
CERCEAU. Lewis XIII made some alterations in the palace; and in 1664,
exactly a century from the date of its construction being begun,
Lewis XIV directed LOUIS DE VEAU to finish it, by making the
additions and embellishments which have brought it to its present
state. These deviations from the first plan have destroyed the
proportions required by the strict rules of art; but this defect
would, probably, be overlooked by those who are not connoisseurs, as
the architecture, though variously blended, presents, at first sight,
an _ensemble_ which is magnificent and striking.
The whole front of the palace of the _Tuileries_ consists of five
pavilions, connected by four piles of building, standing on the same
line, and extending for the space of one thousand and eleven feet.
The first order of the three middle piles is Ionic, with encircled
columns. The two adjoining pavilions are also ornamented with Ionic
pillars; but fluted, and embellished with foliage, from the third of
their height to the summit. The second order of these two pavilions
is Corinthian. The two piles of building, which come next, as well as
the two pavilions of the wings, are of a Composite order with fluted
pillars. From a tall iron spindle, placed on the pinnacle of each of
the three principal pavilions is now seen floating a horizontal
tri-coloured streamer. Till the improvements made by Lewis XIV, the
large centre pavilion had been decorated with the Ionic and Corinthian
orders only, to these was added the Composite.
On the façade towards the _Place du Carrousel_, the pillars of all
these orders are of brown and red marble. Here may be observed the
marks of several cannon-balls, beneath each of which is inscribed, in
black, 10 AOÛT.
This tenth of August 1792, a day ever memorable in the history of
France, has furnished many an able writer with the subject of an
episode; but, I believe, few of them were, any more than myself,
actors in that dreadful scene. While I was intently remarking the
particular impression of a shot which struck the edge of one of the
casements of the first floor of the palace, my _valet de place_ came
up to know at which door I would have the carriage remain in waiting.
On turning round, I fancied I beheld the man who "drew Priam's
curtain in the dead of night." That messenger, I am sure, could not
have presented a visage more pale, more spiritless than my Helvetian.
Recollecting that he had served in the Swiss guards, I was the less
at a loss to account for his extreme agitation. "In what part of the
_château_ were you, Jean," said I, "when these balls were aimed at
the windows?"----"There was my post," replied he, recovering himself,
and pointing to one of the centre casements.--"Is it true," continued
I, "that, by way of feigning a reconciliation, you threw down
cartridges by handfuls to the Marseillese below, and called out;
_vive la nation?"_----"It is but too true," answered Jean; "we then
availed ourselves of the moment when they advanced under the
persuasion that they were to become our friends, and opened on them a
tremendous fire, by which we covered the place with dead and dying.
But we became victims of our own treachery: for our ammunition being,
by this _ruse de guerre_, the sooner expended, we presently had no
resource left but the bayonet, by which we could not prevent the mob
from closing on us."--"And how did you contrive to escape," said I?
--"Having thrown away my Swiss uniform," replied he, "in the general
confusion, I fortunately possessed myself of the coat of a national
volunteer, which he had taken off on account of the hot weather. This
garment, bespattered with blood, I instantly put on, as well as his
hat with a tri-coloured cockade."--"This disguise saved your life,"
interrupted I.--"Yes, indeed;" rejoined he. "Having got down to the
vestibule, I could not find a passage into the garden; and, to
prevent suspicion, I at once mixed with the mob on the place where we
are now standing."--"How did you get off at last," said I?--"I was
obliged," answered he, "to shout and swear with the _poissardes_,
while the heads of many of my comrades were thrown out of the
windows."--"The _poissardes_," added I, "set no bounds to their
cruelty?"--"No," replied he, "I expected every moment to feel its
effects; my disguise alone favoured my escape: on the dead bodies of
my countrymen they practised every species of mutilation." Here Jean
drew a picture of a nature too horrid to be committed to paper. My
pen could not trace it.----In a word, nothing could exceed the
ferocity of the infuriate populace; and the sacking of the palace of
the Trojan king presents but a faint image of what passed here on the
day which overset the throne of the Bourbons.
According to a calculation, founded as well on the reports of the
police as on the returns of the military corps, it appears that the
number of men killed in the attack of the palace of the _Tuileries_
on the 10th of August 1792, amounted in the whole to very near six
thousand, of whom eight hundred and fifty-two were on the side of the
besieged, and three thousand seven hundred and forty on the side of
the besiegers.
The interior of this palace is not distinguished by any particular
style of architecture, the kings who have resided here having made
such frequent alterations, that the distribution throughout is very
different from that which was at first intended. Here it was that
Catherine de Medicis shut herself up with the Guises, the Gondis, and
Birague, the chancellor, in order to plan the horrible massacre of
that portion of the French nation whose religious tenets trenched on
papal power, and whose spirit of independence alarmed regal jealousy.
Among the series of entertainments, given on the marriage of the king
of Navarre with Marguerite de Valois, was introduced a ballet, in
which the papists, commanded by Charles IX and his brothers, defended
paradise against the huguenots, who, with Navarre at their head, were
all repulsed and driven into hell. Although this pantomime, solely
invented by Catherine, was evidently meant as a prelude to the
dreadful proscription which awaited the protestants, they had no
suspicion of it; and four days after, was consummated the massacre,
where that monster to whom nature had given the form of a woman,
feasted her eyes on the mangled corpses of thousands of bleeding
victims!
No sooner was the Pope informed of the horrors of St. Bartholemew's
day; by the receipt of Admiral de Coligny's head which Catherine
embalmed and sent to him, than he ordered a solemn procession, by way
of returning thanks to heaven for the _happy event_. The account of
this procession so exasperated a gentlemen of Anjou, a protestant of
the name of Bressaut de la Rouvraye, that he swore he would make
eunuchs of all the monks who should fall into his hands; and he
rendered himself famous by keeping his word, and wearing the trophies
of his victory.
The _Louvre_ and the palace of the _Tuileries_ were alternately the
residence of the kings of France, till Lewis XIV built that of
Versailles, after which it was deserted till the minority of Lewis
XV, who, when a little boy, was visited here by Peter the Great, but,
in 1722, the court quitted Paris altogether for Versailles, where it
continued fixed till the 5th of October 1789.
During this long interval, the palace was left under the direction of
a governor, and inhabited only by himself, and persons of various
ranks dependent on the bounty of the crown. When Lewis XVI and his
family were brought hither at that period, the two wings alone were
in proper order; the remainder consisted of spacious apartments
appointed for the king's reception when he came occasionally to
Paris, and ornamented with stately, old-fashioned furniture, which
had not been deranged for years. The first night of their arrival,
they slept in temporary beds, and on the king being solicited the
next day to choose his apartments, he replied: "Let everyone shift
for himself; for my part, I am very well where I am." But this fit of
ill-humor being over, the king and queen visited every part of the
palace, assigning particular rooms to each person of their suite, and
giving directions for sundry repairs and alterations.
Versailles was unfurnished, and the vast quantity of furniture
collected in that palace, during three successive reigns, was
transported to the _Tuileries_ for their majesties' accommodation.
The king chose for himself three rooms on the ground-floor, on the
side of the gallery to the right as you enter the vestibule from the
garden; on the entresol, he established his geographical study; and
on the first floor, his bed-chamber: the apartments of the queen and
royal family were adjoining to those of the king; and the attendants
were distributed over the palace to the number of between six and
seven hundred persons.
The greater part of the furniture, &c. in the palace of the
_Tuileries_ was sold in the spring of 1793. The sale lasted six
months, and, had it not been stopped, would have continued six months
longer. Some of the king's dress-suits which had cost twelve hundred
louis fetched no more than five. By the inventory taken immediately
after the 10th of August 1792, and laid before the Legislative
Assembly, it appears that the moveables of every description
contained in this palace were valued at 12,540,158 livres (_circa_
£522,560 sterling,) in which was included the amount of the thefts,
committed on that day, estimated at 1,000,000 livres, and that of the
dilapidations, at the like sum, making together about £84,000
sterling.
When Catherine de Medicis inhabited the palace of the _Tuileries_, it
was connected to the _Louvre_ by a garden, in the middle of which was
a large pond, always well stocked with fish for the supply of the
royal table. Lewis XIV transformed this garden into a spacious square
or _place_, where in the year 1662, he gave to the queen dowager and
his royal consort a magnificent fête, at which, were assembled
princes, lords, and knights, with their ladies, from every part of
Europe. Hence the square was named