"But see! each muse in LEO'S golden days,
Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays;
Rome's ancient Genius, o'er its ruins spread,
Shakes off the dust, and rears his reverend head;
Then Sculpture and her sister arts revive,
Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live."
These beautiful lines of Pope immediately occur to the mind, on
considering that, in Italy, the Great LEO, by the encouragement which
he gave to men of talents, had considerably increased the number of
master-pieces; when the taste for the Fine Arts, after their previous
revival by the Medici, having spread throughout that country, began
to dawn in France about the end of the fifteenth century. By
progressive steps, the efforts made by the French artists to emulate
their masters, attained, towards the middle of the sixteenth century,
a perfection which has since fixed the attention of Europe.
On entering this hall, which is consecrated to that period, the
amateur finds his genius inflamed. What a deep impression does not
the perfection of the numerous monuments which it has produced make
on his imagination! First, he admires the beautiful tomb erected to
the memory of FRANCIS I, the restorer of literature and the arts;
who, by inviting to his court LEONARDO DA VINCI and PRIMATICCIO, and
establishing schools and manufactories, consolidated the great work
of their regeneration.
"Curse the monks!" exclaimed I, on surveying this magnificent
monument, constructed in 1550, from the designs of the celebrated
PHILIBERT DE L'ORME. "Who cannot but regret," continued I to myself,
"that so gallant a knight as Francis I. should fall a victim to that
baneful disease which strikes at the very sources of generation? Who
cannot but feel indignant that so generous a prince, whose first
maxim was, that _true magnanimity consisted in the forgiveness of
injuries, and pusillanimity in the prosecution of revenge_, should
owe his death to the diabolical machinations of a filthy friar?" Yet,
so it was; the circumstances are as follows:
Francis I. was smitten by the charms of the wife of one Lunel, a
dealer in iron. A Spanish chaplain, belonging to the army of the
Emperor Charles V, passing through Paris in order to repair to
Flayers, threw himself in this man's way, and worked on his mind till
he had made him a complete fanatic: "Your king," said the friar,
"protects Lutheranism in Germany, and will soon introduce it into
France. Be revenged on him and your wife, by serving religion.
Communicate to him that disease for which no certain remedy is yet
known."--"And how am I to give it to him?" replied Lunel; "neither I
nor my wife have it."--"But I have," rejoined the monk: "I hold up my
hand and swear it. Introduce me only for one half-hour by night, into
your place, by the side of your faithless fair, and I will answer for
the rest."
The priest having prevailed on Lunel to consent to his scheme, went
to a place where he was sure to catch the infection, and, by means of
Lunel's wife, he communicated it to the king. Being previously in
possession of a secret remedy, the monk cured himself in a short
time; the poor woman died at the expiration of a month; and Francis
I, after having languished for three or four years, at length, in
1547, sunk under the weight of a disorder then generally considered
as incurable.
The tomb of the VALOIS, erected in honour of that family, by
Catherine de Medicis, soon after the death of Henry II, is one of the
masterpieces of GERMAIN PILON. In the execution of this beautiful
monument, that famous artist has found means to combine the
correctness of style of Michael Angelo with the grace of Primaticcio.
To the countenance of HENRY and CATHERINE, who are represented in a
state of death, lying as on a bed, he has imparted an expression of
sensibility truly affecting.
Next comes the tomb of DIANE DE POITIERS, that celebrated beauty, who
displayed equal judgment in the management of State affairs and in
the delicacy of her attachments; who at the age of 40, captivated
king Henry II, when only 18; and, who, though near 60 at the death of
that prince, had never ceased to preserve the same empire over his
heart. At the age of fourteen, she was married to Louis de Brézé,
grand seneschal of Normandy, and died in April 1506, aged 66.
Brantome, who saw her not long before her death, when she had just
recovered from the confinement of a broken leg, and had experienced
troubles sufficient to lessen her charms, thus expresses himself:
"Six months ago, when I met her, she was still so beautiful that I
know not any heart of adamant which would not have been moved at the
sight of her."--To give you a perfect idea of her person, take this
laconic description, which is not one of fancy, but collected from
the best historians.
Her jet black hair formed a striking contrast to her lily complexion.
On her cheeks faintly blushed the budding rose. Her teeth vied with
ivory itself in whiteness: in a word, her form was as elegant as her
deportment was graceful.
By way of lesson to the belles of the present day, let them be told
that DIANE DE POITIERS was never ill, nor affected indisposition. In
the severity of the winter, she daily washed her face with
spring-water, and never had recourse to cosmetics.----"What pity,"
says Brantome, "that earth should cover so beautiful a woman!"
No man, indeed, who sympathizes with the foibles of human nature, can
contemplate the tomb of DIANE DE POITIERS, and reflect on her
numerous virtues and attractions, without adopting the sentiments of
Brantome, and feeling his breast glow with admiration.
This extraordinary woman afforded the most signal protection to
literati and men of genius, and was, in fact, no less distinguished
for the qualities of her heart than for the beauty of her person.
"She was extremely good-humoured, charitable, and humane," continues
Brantome "The people of France ought to pray to God that the female
favourite of every chief magistrate of their country may resemble
this amiable frail one."
As a proof of the elevation of her sentiments, I shall conclude by
quoting to you the spirited reply DIANE made to Henry II, who, by
dint of royal authority, wished to legitimate a daughter he had by
her: "I am of a birth," said she, "to have had lawful children by
you. I have been your mistress, because I loved you. I will never
suffer a decree to declare me your concubine."
The beautiful group of the modest Graces, and that representing
Diana, accompanied by her dogs Procion and Syrius, sculptured by Jean
Gougeon, to serve as the decoration of a fountain in the park of
DIANE DE POITIERS at Anet, attracts the attention of the connoisseur.
The tomb of GOUGEON, composed of his own works, and erected to the
memory of that great artist, through gratitude, is, undoubtedly, a
homage which he justly deserved. This French Phidias was a Calvinist,
and one of the numerous victims of St. Bartholomew's day, being shot
on his scaffold, as he was at work on the _Louvre_, the 24th of
August 1572. Here too we behold the statues of BIRAGUE and of the
GONDI, those atrocious wretches who, together with Catherine de
Medicis, plotted that infamous massacre; while CHARLES IX, no less
criminal, here exhibits on his features the stings of a guilty
conscience.
The man that has a taste for learning, gladly turns his eye from this
horde of miscreants, to fix it on the statue of CLAUDE-CATHERINE DE
CLERMONT-TONNERRE, who was so conversant in the dead languages as to
bear away the palm from Birague and Chiveray, in a speech which she
composed and spoke in Latin, at twenty-four hours' notice, in answer
to the ambassadors who tendered the crown of Poland to Charles IX.
If the friend of the arts examine the beautiful portico erected by
Philibert de l'Orme, on the banks of the Eure, for Diane de Poitiers,
composed of the three orders of architecture, placed the one above
the other, and forming altogether an elevation of sixty feet, he will
be amazed to learn that this superb monument constructed at Anet,
twenty leagues distant from Paris, was removed thence, and
re-established in this Museum, by the indefatigable conservator,
LENOIR.
On leaving the apartment containing the master-pieces brought to
light by Francis I, the next we reach is the