This church, which is one of the most spacious in Paris, is situated
at the north extremity of the _Rue des Prouvaires_, facing the _Rue
du Jour_. It was begun in 1532, but not finished till the year 1642.
Notwithstanding the richness of its architecture, it presents not an
appearance uniformly handsome, on account of the ill-combined mixture
of the Greek and Gothic styles: besides, the pillars are so numerous
in it, that it is necessary to be placed in the nave to view it to
the best advantage.
The new portal of _St. Eustache_, which was constructed in 1754, is
formed of two orders, the Doric and the Ionic, the one above the
other. At each extremity of this portal, rise two insulated towers,
receding from all the projection of the inferior order, and decorated
by Corinthian columns with pilasters, on an attic serving as a socle.
These two towers were to have been crowned by a balustrade; one alone
has been finished.
Several celebrated personages have been interred in this church.
Among them, I shall particularize one only; but that one will long
live in the memory of every convivial British seaman. Who has not
heard the lay which records the defeat of Tourville? Yes--
He who "on the main triumphant rode
To meet the gallant Russel in combat o'er the deep;"
Who "led his noble troops of heroes bold
To sink the English admiral and his fleet."
Though considered by his countrymen, as one of the most eminent
seamen that France ever produced, and enjoying at the time of his
death the dignity of Marshal, together with that of Vice-admiral of
the kingdom, Tourville never had an epitaph. He died on the 28th of
May 1701, aged 59.
Some of the monuments which existed here have been transferred to the
Museum in the _Rue des Petits Augustins_, where may be seen the
sarcophagus of Colbert, Minister to Lewis XIV, and the medallion of
Cureau de la Chambre, physician to that king, and also his
physiognomist, whom he is said to have constantly consulted in the
selection of his ministers. Among the papers of that physician there
still exists, in an unpublished correspondence with Lewis XIV, this
curious memorandum: "Should I die before his majesty, he would run a
great risk of making, in future, many a bad choice."
It is impossible to enter one of these sanctuaries without reflecting
on the rapid progress of irreligion among a people who, six months
before, were, on their knees, adoring the effigies which, at that
period, they were eager to mutilate and destroy. Iron crows and
sledge-hammers were almost in a state of requisition. In the
beginning, it was a contest who should first aim a blow at the nose
of the Virgin Mary, or break the leg of her son. In one day,
contracts were entered into with masons for defacing images which for
centuries, had been partly concealed under the dusty webs of
generations of spiders.
As for the statues within reach of swords and pikes, it was a
continual scene of amusement to the licentious to knock off the ear
of one angel, and scratch the face of another. Not an epitaph was
left to retrace the patriotic deeds of an upright statesman, or the
more brilliant exploits of a heroic warrior; not a memento, to record
conjugal affection, filial piety, or grateful friendship. The
iconoclasts proceeded not with the impetuous fury of fanatics, but
with the extravagant foolery of atheistical buffoons.
All the gold and silver ornaments disappeared: a great part of them
were dissolved in the crucibles of the mint, after having been
presented as a homage to the Convention, some of whose members danced
the _carmagnole_ with those who presented them at their bar, loaded
on the back of mules and asses, bedecked with all the emblems of
catholic worship; while several of the rubies, emeralds, &c. which
had formerly decorated the glory, beaming round the head of a Christ,
were afterwards seen glittering on the finger of the revolutionary
committee-men.
Chaumette, an attorney, was the man who proclaimed atheism, and his
example had many imitators. It seemed the wish of that impious being
to exile God himself from nature. He it was who imagined those
orgies, termed the festivals of reason. One of the most remarkable of
these festivals was celebrated in this very church of _St. Eustache_.
Although Mademoiselle Maillard, the singing heroine of the French
opera, figured more than once as the goddess of reason, that divinity
was generally personified by some shameless female, who, if not a
notorious prostitute, was frequently little better. Her throne
occupied the place of the altar; her supporters were chiefly drunken
soldiers, smoking their pipe; and before her, were a set of
half-naked vagabonds, singing and dancing the _carmagnole_.
"In this church," says an eye-witness, "the interior of the choir
represented a landscape, decorated with cottages and clumps of trees.
In the distance were mysterious bowers, to which narrow paths led,
through declivities formed of masses of artificial rock.
"The inside of the church presented the spectacle of a large
public-house. Round the choir were arranged tables, loaded with
bottles, sausages, pies, pâtés, and other viands. On the altars of
the lateral chapels, sacrifices were made to luxury and gluttony;
and the consecrated stones bore the disgusting marks of beastly
intemperance.
"Guests crowded in at all doors: whoever came partook of this
festival: children thrust their hands into the dishes, and helped
themselves out of the bottles, as a sign of liberty; while the speedy
consequences of this freedom became a matter of amusement to grown
persons in a similar state of ebriety. What a deplorable picture of
the people, who blindly obeyed the will of a few factious leaders!
"In other churches, balls were given; and, by way of shutting the
door in the face of modesty, these were continued during the night,
in order that, amidst the confusion of nocturnal revelry, those
desires which had been kindled during the day, might be freely
gratified under the veil of darkness.
"The processions which accompanied these orgies, were no less
attended with every species of atheistical frenzy. After feasting
their eyes with the sacrifice of human victims, the Jacobin faction,
or their satellites, followed the car of their impure goddess: next
came, in another car, a moving orchestra, composed of blind
musicians, a too faithful image of that Reason which was the object
of their adoration."
The state of France, at that period, proves that religion being
detached from social order, there remained a frightful void, Which
nothing could have filled up but its subsequent restoration. Without
religion, men become enemies to each other, criminals by principle,
and bold violators of the laws; force is the only curb that can
restrain them. The inevitable consequence is, that anarchy and rapine
desolate the face of the earth, and reduce it to a heap of misfortune
and ruin.