“This splendid palace is close upon the Seine, at a point where that
river takes a graceful curve, and, in the course of several miles, is
crossed by numerous bridges of stone, elegantly arched, and of the most
solid construction. The landscape is here very rich and picturesque.
Barracks of superior construction, and other handsome buildings, rise on
the slope of a hill from the river, and the palace crowns the summit.
The palace of St. Cloud was founded in 1572, by a rich financier. In
1658, it was purchased by Louis XIV. for his brother, the Duke of
Orleans, who adorned it expensively. In 1782, Louis XVI. bought it for
his queen, Marie Antoinette. It was a favorite place with her, as it was
subsequently with Napoleon and Josephine. The principal front is one
hundred and forty feet long and seventy feet high. Important events have
happened here. In this palace Henry III. was assassinated by Jacques
Clement, in 1589, and our guide assured us, that a place in the long
room, which he indicated, was the very spot where the deed was done.
Henrietta, the queen of Charles I. of England, died here. Here Napoleon,
November tenth, 1799, completed the subjugation of the then existing
government, dispersed the members of the council of ancients, whom he
had adjourned to this place from Paris, and assumed the reins himself.
In this place, the capitulation of Paris was signed in 1815. Here
Charles X., in 1830, was informed of the explosion of the revolution;
and here Louis Philippe rested a short time, during his flight from
Paris in 1848.
“We have seen nothing in Europe so delightful as this palace. Its
situation is splendid; being elevated high upon the side of a hill
rising from the Seine, it overlooks Paris, and all the populous and most
beautiful country around; the Seine winds gracefully along through the
meadows, and appears wider than at Paris, where it is narrowed by the
quays and other structures of the city. The views into the park are very
fine on all sides of the palace; in the interior the ground rises, and
vistas open up the green slope, with a long avenue of statues standing
in the open air in one direction, and a tower in the distance in
another, while a noble park of old and lofty forest trees, stretches
over the flat ground in front, quite to the river. In the interior of
the palace, everything is in the best taste. The furniture of the rooms
remains as it was left by Josephine, Maria Louisa, and the family of
Louis Philippe. The Duchess of Orleans, daughter-in-law of the late
king, passed much time here with her children, and their beds, as well
as that of Louis Philippe and his queen, remain undisturbed, with their
rich silk curtains and covers.
“The pictures at St. Cloud are very numerous, and are lovely exhibitions
of that almost creative art. They are all drawn from quiet scenes, such
as must ever remain grateful to the human mind. Among the hundreds of
pictures by the first masters that adorn these walls, there is not a
single battle-piece. In this respect, St. Cloud presents a striking and
very agreeable contrast with the carnage that crimsons the long
galleries of Versailles. Louis Philippe sought, in that palace, to
gratify the national avidity for glory, by multiplying battle-scenes in
which the arms of France had been triumphant, and by depicting the
persons of her heroes, until the tired eye that gazes on them is
satiated with gorgeous costume, and the mind afflicted with human
suffering. At St. Cloud a more amiable feeling was cherished, as appears
by the charming pictures of rural scenery, of mild and splendid
landscapes, of peaceful buildings, abodes of happy domestic life, scenes
living and real, and ever grateful. As the private rooms in which the
successive royal families lived, are rich in elegant simplicity, in a
style of chaste beauty, they are in strong contrast with the rooms of
state, which are extremely magnificent, and adorned by a profusion of
princely decorations. Their domes are all alive with the imaginary
beings of fabulous antiquity. Gods and goddesses, and muses and nymphs,
and a multitude of creations of poetic fancy and records of old legends,
decorate the ceilings. A principal ornament of the public rooms is the
Gobelin tapestry, manufactured and hung by order of Louis Philippe. All
that I had seen before at Windsor castle, or at Blenheim palace, fades
in comparison with the rich decorations of the Gobelin looms, which
adorn the public halls of St. Cloud. These textile pictures are
perfectly beautiful, and from their magnitude and the august personages
of the historical dramas which they present so impressively to the eye,
they are sublime. No one viewing them from the distance across the room,
would even suspect that they are anything else than the most perfect
productions of the pencil, and even when the observer approaches them,
it is not easy to convince himself that the splendid illusion is
produced by the interweaving of colored woolen and silken threads. Five
of the scenes here depicted in Gobelin tapestry are copied from original
paintings still existing in the Louvre, executed by Rubens, for Marie de
Medicis. The first is the duke of Anjou, declared king of Spain (Philip
V.) The second of these pictures, which is not less than twenty-five
feet square, is the birth of Marie de Medicis; the third is the
presentation of her picture to Henry V.; the fourth, his marriage with
her; the fifth represents his departure from his capital, and the
committing of the government to the care of the queen. We saw also most
magnificent vases of Sèvres porcelain: one of them was presented to
Maria Antoinette; it must have been, I believe, five feet high without
the pedestal, and of the capacity of a barrel or two. We have nothing in
America that can convey a full impression of these superb productions of
the plastic art. They are modeled after the forms of the most beautiful
Etruscan vases; the most perfect purity of the porcelain material is
contrasted with the finest efforts of the pencil, in the pictures, which
being incorporated by the fire, are indissolubly wedded to the basis on
which they are delineated, and they are resplendent with gold and blue
enamel of cobalt. One is at a loss which most to admire, the productions
of the Gobelin looms or those of the Sèvres furnaces.
“The floors of the palace, according to the general custom in French
houses, are made of pieces of boards. They rarely exceed six inches in
width, and are tastefully disposed in various geometrical figures. All
the floors that we have seen in Paris, except some that are covered by
carpets, are kept waxed; the waxing is renewed daily, and they are so
smooth as to appear hazardous to those unaccustomed to walk upon them.
The floors of the palace of St. Cloud have been, heretofore, covered by
Gobelin carpets, which, at the time of our visit, were rolled and put
away for safe keeping. We saw the council table of Napoleon and Louis
Philippe, memorable for the deliberations which have been held over its
boards. St. Cloud was the favorite place of consultation on matters of
peace and war; here Napoleon planned some of his campaigns; here Louis
Philippe passed much time with his family, and his daughter-in-law, the
Duchess of Orleans, found a quiet retreat with her little son, the Count
de Paris, whom she in person presented in the legislative hall during
the revolution of 1848. Her husband, the Duke of Orleans, presumptive
heir to the throne, having been killed by a mysterious providence, she
naturally hoped that the legislature would acknowledge the claims of her
son, founded on both those of his father and his grandfather Louis
Philippe; but all the world knows that she was disappointed, and was
fain to retreat and seek protection for her child and herself. There was
a deep feeling of pensiveness connected with our visit to St. Cloud;
closed now as it is and quite solitary, without a single individual
remaining of those who formerly figured there; it was to us an
instructive memento of the vanity of human glory. The splendid
apartments remain, with all their furniture and decorations in perfect
order. The solitary chapel, chastely elegant, although grave in its
architecture, seemed all ready and waiting for the arrival of
worshipers; and the entire palace, with its beautiful grounds, impresses
one almost with the belief, that kings and queens, and courtiers and
nobles, and guests of renown, will soon return and give life and joy to
those vacant scenes; but alas, except some few members of the family of
Louis Philippe and of Napoleon, all are gone to the tomb. The dreaded
conqueror of nations found his second prison and his grave on a bleak
rock, in the ocean, and his final tomb among those invalids whom, in
their youth, he led to fields of battle and victory. Josephine, once an
ornament of St. Cloud, as she was of every scene in which she presided,
went with a broken heart from Malmaison to her grave. An old man, our
guide through the palace, said to us, ‘I have been thirty years here,
and I have seen three monarchs expelled from this palace and from their
thrones.’ I have omitted to mention the large library of Louis Philippe,
which still remains at St. Cloud, undisturbed and in perfect order. It
is my impression that the number of volumes was stated at twelve
thousand.”