A second, and doubtless to the reader by this time more familiar walk,
round the =Great Boulevards=, will suffice to give a hasty conception of
the Paris of Louis XIV and his immediate successors. Even if you are
already well acquainted with the route, go over it once more, if only on
the top of an omnibus, at this stage of your investigation, in order to
take your bearings more fully. It must be borne in mind for the purposes
of this walk or ride that in the earlier mediæval period the district
between the Boulevards and the central core consisted, for the most
part, of gardens and fields, among which were interspersed a few rural
monasteries and suburban churches. These last have long since, of
course, become wholly imbedded in modern Paris, but I will note as we
pass a few earlier objects which it may be interesting for those who
have time to diverge and visit.
Start from the Luxor Obelisk in the Place de la Concorde (noting here
and elsewhere the Roman reminiscence of the bronze ships of Paris on the
gas-lamps—as you see them at the Thermes), and walk up the =Rue
Royale=,—the first portion of the great ring of streets which girdles
the city of Louis XIV. The Rue St. Honoré, to your R, was, before the
construction of the Rue de Rivoli and the Champs Elysées, the chief road
which led westward out of ancient Paris. The Porte St. Honoré stood on
this site, where it crossed the barrier by the modern Rue Royale. Beyond
it, the street takes the characteristic name of the Rue du Faubourg St.
Honoré; and all the other streets which cross the girdle similarly
change their name to that of the corresponding Faubourg as they pass
beyond it. These long straggling roads, lined with houses on the
outskirts (Faubourg St. Honoré, Montmartre, St. Denis, du Temple, etc.),
have finally become the chief residential quarters of the city at the
present day.
The handsome classical building in front of us is the
=Madeleine=—(Church of St. Mary Magdalen)—the last stage in the
classical mania which substituted Græco-Roman temples for Christian
churches and other edifices. (See previous stages in St. Paul and St.
Louis, the Sorbonne, the Invalides, the Panthéon, etc.) Begun under
Louis XV, it was not completed till the Restoration. In style it follows
the late Roman variation on the Corinthian-Greek model. Notice, however,
as you approach, that even this Grecian building bears on its purely
classical pediment the stereotyped Parisian subject of the Last
Judgment, with the Angel of the Last Trump, and the good and wicked to R
and L of the Redeemer. Only, in this case, St. Mary Magdalen, under
whose invocation, as the inscription states, the church is dedicated,
kneels by the L side of Christ, imploring mercy for the wicked. Compare
this last term in the treatment of this old conventional portal-relief
with its naïf beginnings at Notre-Dame and St. Denis. It is also worth
while to enter and inspect the chapels, the paintings and sculpture in
which will reveal their dedications. (See also Baedeker.)
The Rue Royale forms the first part of the girdle of Louis XIV. From the
Madeleine onward, we enter that wider part of this girdle which still
distinctively bears the name of the =Boulevard=. To our L, Baron
Haussmann’s quite modern Bd. Malesherbes opens up a vista of the recent
and unsatisfactory Church of St. Augustin—a great ornate
pseudo-Romanesque building, unhappily accommodated to the space at the
architect’s disposal. Proceeding along the Bd. de la Madeleine, and then
the Bd. des Capucines, we arrive in a few minutes at the Place de
l’Opéra, undoubtedly the central nodal point of modern Paris. To our L
stands the great =Opéra House=, erected at vast expense in the gaudy
meretricious style of the Second Empire, and decorated with good, but
too voluptuous modern sculpture. Two new streets branch R and L of it.
Walk round them, and so take the measure of the building. To our R the
=Avenue de l’Opéra= has been run diagonally across the older streets of
Louis XIV’s town, towards the Palais Royal and the Théâtre Français.
This is now one of the finest thoroughfares of the existing town.
Nevertheless, the old Boulevard, above all in this part of its circuit,
remains the centre of Parisian life, thought, and movement. Especially
is it the region of cafés and theatres. Here also the older =Rue de la
Paix=, one of the earliest fine open thoroughfares in Paris, leads to
the irregular octagonal =Place Vendôme=, laid out under Louis XIV, and
said to owe its canted corners to the king’s own personal initiative.
[This Place is a good example of the best domestic architecture of the
Eighteenth Century. Its centre is occupied by the great =bronze column=
(Colonne Vendôme) originally erected by Napoleon to commemorate his
victories. It was pulled down by the Commune, but (the fragments having
been preserved) was re-erected after the triumph of the National party.
Round it in a long spiral run a series of reliefs, suggested by those on
Trajan’s Column at Rome: but while the Roman pillar was surrounded by a
Forum of several stories, with open porticoes from which the sculpture
could be inspected, the sculpture on Napoleon’s is quite invisible,
except just at the base, owing to the lack of any similar elevated
platform from which to view it.] The other great street diverging from
the Place de l’Opéra to the R, the Rue du 4 Septembre, leads to the
=Bourse= (uninteresting), and is part of the modern arterial system.
Continuing along the line of Louis XIV’s Boulevards, we reach next the
Bd. des Italiens, and then turn obtusely round into the Bd. Montmartre.
To our L lies the Faubourg of that name, long since swallowed up by the
engulfing city. At the Rue St. Denis (the great north road of Paris), we
arrive at one of the debased classical =triumphal arches= (Porte St.
Denis) which Louis XIV erected in place of the ancient castellated
gates. It is (more or less) decorated with contemporary reliefs
representing his victories; these, and the inscriptions, are worth
examining. Beyond the gate, the road to St. Denis, much traversed in
earlier times by pilgrims, takes the significant name of Rue du Faubourg
St. Denis. A little further on, the modern trunk line of the
(Haussmannesque) Bd. de Sébastopol, hewn straight through the heart of
the earlier town, intersects the old fortifications, leading R to the
Cité, and L to the Gare de l’Est, in which direction it is known as the
Bd. de Strasbourg. The next corner, the Rue St. Martin, which similarly
changes its name to that of its Faubourg as it crosses the limit of the
earlier town, is marked by a second of Louis XIV’s arches, the =Porte
St. Martin= (not _quite_ so ugly), whose sculpture is again worthy of
notice on historical grounds, if not on artistic. [A little way down the
Rue St. Martin to the R lies the =Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers=
(uninteresting internally) which occupies the site of the former
=Cluniac Priory= of St. Martin-des-Champs, after which the street is
still called. This was one of the principal old monasteries in the belt
outside the girdling walls of Philippe Auguste, though included within
those of Étienne Marcel. It was founded as early as the 11th century.
The Conservatoire itself, as an industrial exhibition, is hardly worth a
visit (except for technical purposes), but it ought to be inspected for
the sake of the old =church= of the monastery which it contains (enter
it to view interior; open on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays only) as
well as for the fine =Refectory= of the 13th century, a beautiful Gothic
hall, probably erected by Pierre de Montereau, the architect of the
Sainte Chapelle, who also built the other Refectory, now destroyed, at
St. Germain-des-Prés in the southern Faubourg. A little further on in
the same street is the interesting Gothic church of =St.
Nicolas-des-Champs=, with rather picturesque Renaissance additions. It
stood, when first built, far out in the country. The fine west porch is
of the 15th century. These buildings are chiefly worth notice as
enabling the visitor mentally to restore the outer ring of monasteries
and churches during the early mediæval period, afterwards englobed in
the town of Louis XIV, and now in many cases adapted to alien modern
uses.]
Return to the main line of the Boulevards, which here become distinctly
shabbier and pass through a poorer district. This part of Paris is
destitute of immediate interest, but should be traversed in order to
give the visitor a just idea of the extent and relations of the
eighteenth century city. We arrive before long at the Place de la
République, formerly =Place du Château-d’Eau=, now adorned with a new
bronze statue of the Republic. From this Place several more new
Boulevards in various directions pierce through the poorer and
densely-populated regions of eastern and north-eastern Paris. Along the
main line, the Bds. du Temple, des Filles du Calvaire, and Beaumarchais
lead hence through increasingly poorer-looking districts to the =Place
de la Bastille=, where stood the famous strong castle of that name
(Bastille St. Antoine), destroyed in the Revolution. Its site is now
occupied by the =Colonne de Juillet=, erected to commemorate the
Revolution of 1830. Hence the Rue St. Antoine leads R in one line into
the Rue de Rivoli near the Hôtel de Ville. Beyond the line of the
Boulevards, L, it takes the name of Rue du Faubourg St. Antoine. This
was the region of the poorer and fiery revolutionists of 1789–93.
The district =within= the Boulevards in this direction was in the Valois
period the most fashionable part of Paris. It contained the old royal
palace of the Hôtel St. Paul, together with numerous other _hôtels_ of
the French nobility. From the Place de la Bastille, also, new Boulevards
diverge in several directions. You had better return to the centre of
the town by the Rue St. Antoine, where the third turning to the R will
lead you direct into the =Place des Vosges=, a curious belated relic of
the Paris of Henri IV. Its interesting architecture and quiet stranded
air will well repay you for the slight détour, and will suggest to you
the possibility of many similar agreeable walks in the same district.
Mr. Hare will prove a most efficient guide to this quaint district, for
those who have time to explore it thoroughly. Remember always that the
_least_ important part of Paris, historically speaking, is the western
region which alone is known to most passing strangers.
V
THE FAUBOURG ST. GERMAIN
(LUXEMBOURG, ETC.)
[THE town on the North Side, we saw, was early surrounded by a
=suburban belt= of gardens and monasteries. A similar zone
encircled the old University on the South Bank. The wall of
Philippe Auguste, you will remember, bent abruptly southward in
order to enclose the abbey of Ste. Geneviève; but an almost more
important monastic establishment was left outside it a little to
the west. This was the gigantic abbey of =St. Germain-des-Prés=,
whose very name betokens its original situation. This rich and
powerful community, whose building covered an enormous area of
ground on the Left Bank, and grew at last into a town by itself,
was originally founded by Childebert I as a thank-offering for
his victory over the Visigoths in Spain in 543. Childebert, it
may be remarked, was one of the most religious-minded among the
Frankish monarchs,—which is why we have more than once met with
his effigy in Gothic sculpture. He was also one of those few
Merovingian kings who especially made his residence in Paris. On
the portal of the other St. Germain (l’Auxerrois), which has
numerous points in common with this one, we saw him represented
with his wife Ultrogothe and the earlier St. Germain, a naïve
way of expressing the fact that the King and Queen first gave
that church to the sainted bishop. At the Louvre, too, we saw
his statue from this very monastery. Among the sacred objects
which Childebert brought back from Spain was the tunic of =St.
Vincent=, the patron saint of prisoners. When he was besieging
Saragossa, he saw the inhabitants carry this tunic in unarmed
procession round the walls; which so convinced him of its value
that he raised the siege, on condition that he might take the
holy object home with him. He also brought a large rich gold
cross, ornamented with precious stones, from Toledo,—a piece of
jeweller’s work which might probably be compared with the crowns
of the Gothic kings preserved at Cluny. =St. Germain=, Bishop of
Paris (who must not be confounded with his earlier namesake of
Auxerre), recommended to the king the foundation of a new church
and abbey, in order fitly to receive these holy relics. A church
was therefore built in the garden belt outside the wall, and was
originally dedicated (as was natural) to the Holy Cross and St.
Vincent. The latter thus became one of the local saints of
Paris, through its possession of his tunic; and his effigy may
often be seen, with or without that of his brother deacon St.
Stephen, on many of the older buildings of the city. We noticed
him in particular on the portal of St. Germain l’Auxerrois, and
on the frescoes within, though it was premature then to explain
his presence. Note here that possession of the body of a Saint
(St. Denis, Ste. Geneviève) or of some important relic (St.
Vincent’s tunic, St. Martin’s cloak at St. Séverin) almost
invariably gives rise to local churches, and decides the cult of
local patrons.
Later on, =St. Germain of Paris= having died, was buried in turn
in Childebert’s church of St. Vincent. His body being preserved
here (as it still is), and working many miraculous cures, it
came about in time that St. Vincent and the Holy Cross were
almost forgotten, and the local bishop whose bones were revered
on the spot grew to be the acknowledged patron of the mighty
abbey which surrounded his shrine. Such of the early Merovingian
kings as were buried in Paris had their tombs in this first
church: their stone coffins may still be seen at the Hôtel
Carnavalet. The abbey, which belonged to monks of the
Benedictine order, grew to be one of the most famous in Europe:
its name is still bestowed upon the whole of the =Faubourg=
(long since imbedded in the modern town) of which it forms the
centre. It was to the South Bank what St. Denis was to Northern
Paris.
The existing =church=, of course (save for a few small
fragments), is of far later date than the age of Childebert.
Most of the Paris churches and monasteries suffered severely at
the hands of the Normans: even those which were not then burnt
down or sacked, were demolished and rebuilt in a more sumptuous
style by the somewhat irreverent piety of later ages. This, the
present church of St. Germain-des-Prés, belongs for the most
part to the 11th century. It is therefore older than Notre-Dame
or the Sainte Chapelle, and even as a whole than the greater
part of St. Denis. It exhibits throughout that earlier
=Romanesque= style which formed the transitional term between
classical architecture and the pointed arches of the Gothic
period. (What we call “Norman” in England is a local
modification of Romanesque.) Portions of the building, however,
show Gothic tendency; and the upper part is pure Pointed. Most
of the Abbey has long since been swept away; a small part of the
building still remains in the rear of the existing church. St.
Germain should be visited if only on account of the fact that it
is the earliest large ecclesiastical building now standing in or
near Paris. Flandrin’s noble modern frescoes have given it of
comparatively recent years another form of attractiveness.
During the Renaissance period, while many of the nobility fixed
their seats in the eastern and north-eastern part of
Paris-within-the-Boulevards on the Right Bank, not a few erected
houses for themselves in the open spaces of the =Faubourg St.
Germain=. The most magnificent of these later buildings is the
=Palais du Luxembourg=, erected for Marie de Médicis, after the
death of Henri IV, by Jacques Debrosse, one of the best French
architects of the generation which succeeded that of Jean Goujon
and Philibert Delorme. It was built somewhat after the style of
the Pitti Palace at Florence, where Marie was born, and it
exhibits the second stage of French Renaissance architecture,
when it was beginning to degenerate from the purity, beauty, and
originality of its first outburst, towards the insipid
classicism of Louis XIII and Louis XIV. It was for this building
that Rubens executed his great series of pictures from the life
of Marie, now in the Louvre; while Lesueur painted his St. Bruno
legends for a Carthusian monastery within the grounds. The
gardens which surround it are interesting in their way as being
the only specimen now remaining in Paris of Renaissance methods
of laying out; most of the other palaces have gardens designed
by Le Nôtre in the formal style of Louis XIV. The Palace is now
occupied by the Senate: it is practically difficult of access,
and the interior contains so little of interest that it may well
be omitted save by those who can spend much time in being
ushered round almost empty rooms by perfunctory officials. But
the exterior, the gardens, and the Medici fountain should be
visited by all those who wish to form a consistent idea of
Renaissance Paris.
In the same excursion may be easily combined a visit to =St.
Sulpice=, a church which occupies the site of an old foundation,
but which was entirely rebuilt from the ground in the age of
Louis XIV, and which is mainly interesting as the best example
of the cold, lifeless, and grandiose taste of that pompous
period.
The =Faubourg St. Germain= and the quarter about it, as a whole,
are still the region of the old noble families. The western end
of this Faubourg, especially about the Quai d’Orsay, is given
over to embassies and political machinery, particularly that
connected with foreign affairs. The South Bank is also the
district of the =Legislature=, in both its branches. The
Quartier Latin, however, has largely overflowed of recent years
into the Luxembourg district and that immediately behind it,
which are now to a great extent occupied by the students,
artists, and other Bohemian classes.]
* * * * *
Cross the river, if possible, by the Pont de la Concorde. The classical
building which fronts you proclaims itself legibly on its very face as
the =Chambre des Députés=. But it has borne in its time many other
names. This _façade_ towards the river is of the age of the First
Empire; the main edifice, however, is much older, being the =Palais
Bourbon=, built in 1722 for the Duchesse de Bourbon. In 1790, it was
confiscated, and has ever since been the seat of one or other
legislative body, according to the Government of the moment.
You can go round to the back, as you pass, to inspect the original
_façade_, in the style of Louis XIV, facing the little Place du Palais
Bourbon. The interior is uninteresting, but has a few good pictures,
which should only be visited by those whose time is unlimited.
The river front is on the =Quai d’Orsay=, the centre of modern political
and diplomatic Paris. The building to the R of the Chamber is the
official residence of its President; still further R, the Ministère des
Affaires Étrangères. The broad thoroughfare which opens obliquely
south-eastward, L of the Chamber, is the Boulevard St. Germain, which we
have crossed before in other parts of its semi-circle. It was
Haussmannized in a wide curve through the quiet streets of the Faubourg,
and the purlieus of the Quartier Latin, with ruthless regularity. Many
of the tranquil aristocratic roads characteristic of the region lie R
and L of it; their type should be casually noted as you pass them. Down
the Rue de Lille stands the German Embassy; on the Boulevard itself, R,
the Ministère de la Guerre, and further on, L, the Travaux Publics.
Other ministries and embassies cluster thickly behind, about the
diplomatic Rue de Grenelle and its neighbours. To the R, again, the
Boulevard Raspail, another very modern street, not yet quite complete,
runs southward through the heart of the Luxembourg district. Continue
straight along the Boulevard St. Germain, till you reach the Place of
the same name, with the church of =St. Germain-des-Prés= full in front
of you. (It may also be reached directly by the Rue Bonaparte; but this
other is a more characteristic and instructive approach to the Abbey
Church which forms the centre of the quarter.) Observe how the new
Boulevard skirts its side, giving a clever effect of its having always
been there; the front of the church is round the corner in the Rue
Bonaparte.
The =exterior=, with the houses still built against it in places, though
picturesque, has little minute architectural detail. The massive tower
has been so much renewed as to be practically modern; but the Romanesque
arches near the top give it distinction and beauty. The mean and
unworthy porch is of the 17th cent.; the inner portal, however (though
its arch has been Gothicised), belongs to the Romanesque church and is
not without interest. Observe the character of the pilasters and
capitals, with grotesque animals. Statues of St. Germain, of Childebert
and Ultrogothe (as at the other St. Germain) and of Clovis, etc., which
once flanked the door, were destroyed at the Revolution. In the tympanum
are the unusual subjects of the Eternal Father, blessing, and beneath
Him a Romanesque relief of the Last Supper (_not_, as commonly, the Last
Judgment).
The =interior= still preserves in most part its Romanesque arches and
architecture; but the lower part of the nave is the oldest portion
(early 12th cent.); the choir is about a century later. Most of the
pillars have had their capitals so modernized and gilt as to be of
relatively little interest, while the decorations, though good and
effective, are in many cases of such a sort as effectually to conceal
the real antiquity of the building. The church was used during the Great
Revolution as a saltpetre factory, and was restored and re-decorated in
polychrome a little too freely under the Second Empire. A few capitals,
however, notably those of the Baptistery to the L as you enter retain
their antique carving and are worthy of notice; while even the modern
gilt figures on those of the aisle are Romanesque in character and
quaint in conception. (You can examine some of the old ones which they
replace in the garden at Cluny.)
Walk round the church. The architecture of the =ambulatory and choir=,
though later, is in a much more satisfactory condition than that of the
main body. The arches of the first story are mostly round, but pointed
in the apse; those of the clerestory are entirely Gothic. The detail
below is good Romanesque; study it. Observe the handsome triforium,
between the two stories; and more especially the interesting capitals of
the columns—relics of the original church of Childebert, built into the
later fabric. The choir, on the whole, is a fine specimen of late 12th
cent. work. The Lady Chapel, behind, is a modern addition.
After having thus walked round the aisles and the back of the choir to
observe the architecture, return once more to the doorway by which you
entered and proceed up =the nave=, in order to notice the admirable
modern =frescoes by Flandrin= (Second Empire). These are disposed in
pairs, each containing subjects, supposed to be parallel, from the Old
and New Testaments. Note in these the constant survival of early
traditions, revivified by Flandrin in accordance with the art of his own
period. The subjects are as follows:—
Begin on the L. (1) The Annunciation (treated somewhat in the
traditional manner, the relative positions of the Madonna and the Angel
Gabriel being preserved); typified by the Almighty appearing to Moses in
the Burning Bush, as His first Annunciation. (2) The Nativity, as the
pledge of redemption; typified or rendered necessary by the Fall. (The
New Testament scenes are of course the usual series; those from the Old
Testament foreshadow them, for which reason they are placed in the
opposite from the chronological order.) (3) The Adoration of the Magi
(reminiscences of the conventional, entirely altered by Oriental
costumes and attitudes of submission); typified by Balaam blessing
Israel—a famous picture. (4) The Baptism in Jordan (positions
conventional, with the three angels to the L as always); typified by the
Passage of the Red Sea. (5) The Institution of the Eucharist, very
original in treatment; typified by Melchisedec bringing forth bread and
wine to Abraham. Now return by the R side, beginning at the
transept:—(6) The Betrayal of Christ by Judas; typified by the Sale of
Joseph. (7) The Crucifixion—a very noble picture; typified by the
Offering of Isaac, full of pathos. (8) The Resurrection; typified by
Jonah restored from the sea, the whale being with great tact omitted.
(9) The Keys given to Peter; typified by the Dispersion of the Nations
at Babel. (A little thought is sometimes required to connect these
subjects, which are occasionally, as in the last pair, rather to be
regarded as opposites than types—the one remedying the other. Thus, the
counterpart to the Dispersal at Babel is Christ’s command to preach the
Gospel to all nations.)
Above this fine frieze of subject-pictures runs a course of single
figures, grouped in pairs, on either side of the windows in the
clerestory. They are Old Testament characters, from Adam and Eve onward,
ending with John the Baptist, as the last of the prophets. But as all
the characters have their names legibly inscribed beside them, I need
not enumerate them; all, however, should be observed, especially Adam
and Eve, Miriam, Deborah, and Judith. Hold your hat or a book to cover
the light from the windows, if the glare is too great, and after a
little while you will see them distinctly.
Now proceed again to the front of the choir. On either side are other
mural paintings, also by Flandrin: L, The Entry of Christ into
Jerusalem, very beautiful: R, The Bearing of the Cross. Round the choir,
the Twelve Apostles: by the pointed arches of the apse, the symbols of
the Evangelists—the angel, lion, bull, and eagle. Above all—an
interesting link with the earlier history of the church—are the pious
founders, Childebert and Ultrogothe; the original patron, St. Vincent,
with his successor, St. Germain; and finally, Abbot Morard who rebuilt
the church, substantially in its present form, after the Norman
invasion. He is thus commemorated in the beautiful choir which
represents the work of his successor, Abbot Hugues, in the next century.
Before leaving, observe, architecturally speaking, how a Romanesque
church of this type leads up to the more complex arrangement, with
chevet and chapels, in Notre-Dame and later Gothic churches. Note the
simplicity and dignity of the choir. Note also the peculiar character of
the vaulting, comparing it with the later type at Notre-Dame, and
especially with the reversion to much the same form in Renaissance times
at St. Étienne-du-Mont, and St. Eustache. In spite of its newness, much
of the modern decorative work is extremely effective; indeed, as a
specimen of almost complete internal decoration, this church,
notwithstanding the cruel overlaying of its early Romanesque sculpture
by gold and paint, is perhaps the most satisfactory of any in Paris,
except the Sainte Chapelle. I strongly advise you to sit down for some
time and inspect the capitals built into the aisle, and the beautiful
Merovingian pillars of the triforium, with an opera-glass, at your
leisure.
On quitting the church, walk round it for the view on every side, which
is picturesque and characteristic. Behind it, in the Rue de l’Abbaye,
stands an interesting portion of the 16th-century =Abbot’s Palace=—the
only remaining relic of the vast conventual buildings, once enclosed for
defence by a wall and moat, and containing a large lay and clerical
population, like a little city. The sumptuous carved and gilded figure
of Childebert, the founder, in the Mediæval Sculpture Room at the
Louvre, came from the doorway of the old Refectory—a magnificent work
by Pierre de Montereau (the architect of the Sainte Chapelle)—now
wholly demolished. After you have visited each church, you will often
find it pleasant to look out for such isolated works, divorced at
present from their surroundings, and placed at Cluny or elsewhere. They
will always gain new meaning for you by being thus identified as
belonging to such-and-such an original building. For instance, in the
Christian Antiquities Room at the Louvre, you will find an interesting
capital of a pillar belonging to the Merovingian church of St. Vincent.
Now return to the Boulevard St. Germain, which a little further on
occupies the site of the old Abbey Prison, famous as the scene of the
massacres in September, 1792. Take the Rue Bonaparte on the opposite
side, and go straight on till you reach the =Place St. Sulpice=, with
its huge church in front of you. The building replaces an earlier one to
the same saint: under Louis XIV, when the Faubourg St. Germain was
becoming the quarter of the nobles, it was rebuilt in a style of ugly
magnificence, befitting the maker of Versailles and Marly.
=St. Sulpice=, a vast bare barn, is chiefly interesting, indeed, as a
gigantic specimen of the coldly classical type of church built under
Louis XIV, when Gothic was despised, and even the Renaissance richness
of St. Eustache and St. Étienne was decried as barbaric. It is a painful
monument of declining taste. The =exterior= is chilly. The _façade_,
whose sole recommendation nowadays is its size and its massiveness, is a
triumph of its kind; it consists of two stories, with arcades of Doric
and Ionic pillars superimposed on one another, and crowned with a pair
of octagonal towers, only one of which is completed. The scanty detail
of the sculpture is of the familiar character of the decadent period.
But Fergusson praises the general effect of the exterior.
The =interior= consists of a cruciform pseudo-classical nave, with
aisles, two bare single transepts, and a choir ending in a circular
apse,—all vast, gloomy, barren, and unimpressive. The pillars and
pilasters have Corinthian capitals, and most of the sculpture betrays
the evil influence of Bernini. The holy water stoups, by the second
pillars, however, are more satisfactory: they consist of huge shells,
presented by the Republic of Venice to François I^{er}, standing on
bases by Pigalle,—an effective piece of decorative work in this
unpleasing edifice. As a whole, this chilly interior stands in marked
contrast to the polychromatic richness of St. Germain-des-Prés, and to
the exquisite Gothic detail of Notre-Dame and St. Germain-l’Auxerrois.
The roof and false cupola contrast very much to their disadvantage with
the charming Renaissance vaulting of St. Étienne-du-Mont and St.
Eustache. Accept this visit as penance done to the age of Louis XIV.
Save historically, indeed, this barren church is almost devoid of
interest. Like everything of its age, it aims at grandeur: it only
succeeds in being gaunt and grandiose. The very size is thrown away for
want of effective vistas and groups of pillars; it looks smaller than it
is, and sadly lacks furnishing.
Several of the =chapels= around this disappointing church, however,
contain many good modern pictures: most of them also bear the names of
the saints to whom they are dedicated, which largely aids the
recognition of the symbolism. I enumerate a few of them for their
interest in this matter. =Right aisle= (1) St. Agnes. Jacob and the
angel: Heliodorus expelled from the Temple: by Delacroix. (2) Chapel of
Souls in Purgatory. Religion brings comfort to the dying; benefit of
prayers for the dead: by Heim. (3) Chapel of St. Roch, the plague saint.
He prays for the plague-stricken: he dies in prison at Montpelier: by
Abel de Pujol. (4) St. Maurice, the soldier saint. His legend: by
Vinchon. =Left aisle.= The chapels here are chiefly dedicated to the
newer humanitarian saints of Catholicism. (1) St. François Xavier. He
resuscitates a dead man: miraculous cures at his burial: by Lafon. (2)
St. François de Sales. He preaches in Savoy: he gives to Ste. J. F.
Chantal the constitution of his Order of nuns: by Hesse. (3) St. Paul.
His conversion; he preaches at Athens: by Drolling. (4) St. Vincent de
Paul. He founds the hospital for foundlings, with the Sisters of
Charity: he attends the death-bed of Louis XIII: by Guillemot. =Chapels
of the choir: L= (1) St. John the Evangelist. His martyrdom: and his
assumption. (2) San Carlo Borromeo. He ministers during the plague at
Milan: he gives the sacrament to his uncle, Pius IV, on his death-bed.
(3) Uninteresting. (4) St. Louis the King. He carries a dying man during
the plague: he administers justice under the oak of Vincennes. =Lady
Chapel=, a miracle of ugliness. Statue of the Virgin on clouds in a
recess, by Pajon, lighted from above, and in execrable taste,—the worst
feature in this insipid and often vulgar building. Bad statues and
frescoes. The other choir chapels on the =R side= are dedicated to the
older patron saints of Paris. (1) St. Denis. His preaching: his
condemnation. (2) St. Martin. He divides his cloak with the beggar: he
resuscitates a dead man. (3) Ste. Geneviève. She brings food from Troyes
during the siege of Paris: miracles wrought by her relics. (4) Our Lady.
Her Birth: her Presentation in the Temple, interesting as modern
examples of the treatment of these traditional subjects. Over the door,
N or L side, her Death: S or R side, her Assumption.
St. Sulpice has a reputation for good music.
The Fontaine St. Sulpice, in front of the church, is from Visconti’s
designs, and has appropriate statues of the four great French
preachers—Bossuet, Fénélon, Massillon, and Fléchier. The pulpit here is
still famous for its oratory.
From St. Sulpice, the Rue Férou, to the R of the _façade_, leads you
straight to the Luxembourg Palace. The long low building almost directly
opposite you as you emerge is the
**Musée du Luxembourg,
containing the works of modern French painters. This, of course, is one
of the most important objects to be visited in Paris; but I do not give
any detailed account of it here, because the pictures themselves are
entirely modern, and chiefly by living painters and sculptors, the
various examples being sent to the Louvre, or to provincial museums,
within ten years of the death of the artist. A visit to this Museum is
therefore indispensable to those who desire to form a just acquaintance
with contemporary art. But nothing in the Gallery demands historical
elucidation. The visitor should provide himself with the Official
Catalogue, which will amply suffice for his needs in this Gallery. I
need hardly say that a proper inspection of it _cannot_ be combined in
one day with the other objects mentioned in this Excursion. Devote to it
at least one or two separate mornings.
Turning to the L, as we leave the end of the Rue Férou, the first
building on our R is the official residence of the President of the
Senate; the second is Marie de Médicis’s
Palace of the Luxembourg,
now employed as the seat of the Senate. Walk along its _façade_, the
work of Jacques Debrosse, one of the ablest architects of the later
classicizing Renaissance, in order to observe the modified style of the
age of Henri IV and Louis XIII, which it still on the whole preserves,
in spite of modern additions and alterations. Note the gradual
falling-off from the exquisitely fanciful period of the earlier French
Renaissance, which produced the best parts of the Louvre and St.
Eustache; and the way this building lets us down gently to the bald
classicism of Louis XIV and Perrault. If you know Florence, observe also
the distinct reminiscences of the Pitti Palace. Continue your walk along
the whole of the _façade_, as far as the corner by the Odéon
Théâtre,—the subventioned theatre of the students and the Quartier
Latin. Then, turn into the =garden=, and note the rest of the building,
whose _façade_ towards this side, though restored under Louis Philippe,
more nearly represents Debrosse’s architecture than does that towards
the main thoroughfare. You need not trouble about the interior: though
it contains a few good modern paintings.
The =garden=, however, is well worth a visit on its own account, both
for the sake of the typical manner in which it is laid out, and
especially for the handsome =Fontaine de Médicis= by Debrosse, on the
side next the Panthéon. The group of sculpture in the middle represents
Polyphemus surprising Acis and Galatea. Go round to the back, to see the
(modern) Fountain of Leda,—that favourite subject of Renaissance
sculpture. The best way back from this Excursion is by the Rue de Seine,
which leads you past the Marché St.-Germain.
Another building in this district to which, if possible, the reader
should pay at least one visit, is the =École des Beaux-Arts= in the Rue
Bonaparte. This collection is interesting, both because it contains a
number of valuable fragments of French Renaissance work, especially
architectural, and also because of its =Museum of Copies=, including
transcripts (mostly very good) of the best pictures of various ages,
many of which are useful to the student of art-history for comparison
with originals in the Louvre and elsewhere. Everybody who has not been
to Rome, Venice, and Florence, should certainly try to visit this
Museum; and even those who have made firsthand acquaintance with the
masterpieces of Italian art in their native homes will find that it
sometimes affords them opportunities for comparison of works widely
scattered in the originals, which can be better understood here in
certain of their aspects than in isolation. The building is open to the
public, free, from 12 to 4 on Sundays; on week-days, non-students are
also admitted from 10 to 4 (except Mondays), on application to the
Concierge (small fee). I strongly advise a Sunday visit, however, as you
are then less hurried, and also as the door on the Quai Malaquais is
open on that day. This building should, if possible, be made the object
of a separate excursion. It takes a long time to inspect it thoroughly.
Pass through the Tuileries Gardens, or across the Place du Carrousel,
and traverse the river by the Pont Royal or the Pont du Carrousel. The
second turn to the R, after the last-named bridge, the Rue Bonaparte,
will take you straight to the door of the École. The building occupies
the site of the old Couvent des Petits-Augustins; the convent chapel and
a few other remains of the original works are embedded in it. Enter the
courtyard. Here, during the Great Revolution, the painter Alexandre
Lenoir founded his Musée des Monuments for the accommodation of the
tombs removed from St. Denis and other churches. To his indefatigable
exertions almost alone we owe the preservation of these priceless
Mediæval and Renaissance relics. Under the Restoration, most of the
monuments were replaced in their original positions, and we shall visit
several of them later at St. Denis. To the R of the entrance in this
=First Court= is the beautiful =doorway of the Château d’Anet=—that gem
of Early French Renaissance architecture, which was erected for Diane de
Poitiers by Philibert Delorme and Jean Goujon, by order of Henri II, in
1548: many objects from the same building we have already seen
elsewhere. The portal is now placed as the entrance to the old =Abbey
Chapel=. The end of this court is formed by part of the =façade= from
the =Château de Gaillon=, erected for the Cardinal d’Amboise, Minister
of Louis XII, and one of the favourite residences of François I^{er}. It
presents mixed Renaissance and Gothic features, as did the sculpture of
Michel Colombe from the same building, which we saw at the Louvre. Both
these imposing works—the portal of Château d’Anet and this
_façade_—should be compared with the Italian Renaissance doorway from
Cremona and the Gothic one from Valencia, which we saw in the collection
of sculpture at the Louvre. They are indispensable to a full
comprehension of the French Renaissance. The Château de Gaillon was
destroyed during the Revolution, and many of its finest monuments are
now at the Louvre. If you have time, after seeing this Museum, go back
and compare them.
The =Second Court=, beyond the _façade_, contains several fragments of
buildings and sculpture, among which notice the capitals from the _old_
church of Ste. Geneviève (Romanesque), and a fine stone basin of the
12th cent., brought from St. Denis.
Now, return to the First Court, and visit the former =Chapel=. It
contains =plaster casts=, adequately described for casual visitors by
the labels, as well as =copies of paintings=. These plaster casts,
especially those of the pulpit from Pisa, by Nicolò Pisano, the first
mediæval sculptor who tried to imitate the antique, will enable you to
piece out your conception of Italian Renaissance sculpture, as formed at
the Louvre. Do not despise these casts: they are excellent for
comparison. Among the pictures, notice the copy of Mantegna’s fresco of
St. James conducted to Martyrdom, from the church of the Eremitani at
Padua. The fresco itself is a work of Mantegna’s first period, and I
select this copy for notice because it will help you to fill in the idea
you formed of that great painter from consideration of his originals at
the Louvre. Notice, for example, the strenuous efforts at perspective
and foreshortening; the introduction of decorated Renaissance
architecture; the love of reliefs and ornament; the classical armour;
and many other features which display the native bent of Mantegna, but
not as yet in the maturity of his powers. Observe, again, the copy of
Ghirlandajo’s exquisite Adoration of the Magi, with its numerous
portraits, disguised as the Three Kings, the Shepherds, and the
spectators, to which I have already called attention when speaking of
Luini’s treatment of this subject in the Louvre. I do not enlarge upon
these mere copies, as the originals will occupy us at Florence or
Munich; but the student who has become interested in the evolution of
art will find it a most valuable study to trace the connection, first,
between these subjects and others like them in the Louvre, and, second,
between these copies of works by various masters and the originals by
the same artists preserved in that collection. Compare, and compare, and
compare again ceaselessly.
The Inner Court, the =Cour du Mûrier=, leads to another hall, the =Salle
de Melpomène=, entered on Sundays direct from the Quai Malaquais. This
room also contains a large number of =copies= which are valuable for
study to those who have not seen the originals, and which will often
recall forgotten facts in new connections to those who _have_ seen them.
I would call special attention, from the point of view of this book, to
the good copies of Raphael’s and Perugino’s =Marriage of the Virgin=: as
the originals are respectively at Milan and Caen (two places
sufficiently remote from one another), the composition of the two can be
better compared here than under any other circumstances. As examples of
development, I shall notice them briefly. Perugino’s is, of course, the
older work. It was painted for a chapel in the Cathedral at Perugia,
where it still hung when Raphael painted his imitation of it. First look
carefully at both works, and then read these remarks upon them. The
Sposalizio or Marriage of the Virgin, one of the set subjects in the old
series of the Life of Mary, and often used as an altar-piece, consists
traditionally of the following features. In the centre, stands the High
Priest, wearing his robes and ephod—or what the particular painter
takes for such: he joins the hands of Joseph and the Madonna. Joseph
stands always on the L side of the picture, which Perugino has rightly
assigned to him; though Raphael, already revolutionary, has reversed
this order. He holds in his hand a staff, which has budded into lily
flowers—the tradition (embodied in the Protevangelion) being that the
High Priest caused the various suitors for Mary’s hand to place their
staffs in the Holy of Holies, as had long before been done in the case
of Aaron, intending that he whose staff budded should become the husband
of the Holy Virgin. Joseph’s put forth leaves and flowers; and so this
staff, either flowering or otherwise, is the usual symbol by which you
can recognise him in sacred art. Behind Joseph stand the other
disappointed suitors, one or more of whom always breaks his staff in
indignation. Behind Mary stand the attendant maidens—the Virgins of the
Lord—together with Our Lady’s mother, St. Anne, recognisable by her
peculiar head-dress and wimple. (Compare Leonardo in the Salon Carré.) A
temple always occupies the background. Perugino took the main elements
of this scene from earlier painters. (You will find numerous examples in
the churches and galleries at Florence and elsewhere.) But he
transformed it in accordance with his peculiar genius and his views of
art, substituting a round or octagonal temple of Renaissance
architecture for the square Gothic building of earlier painters. Such
round buildings were the conventional representation of the Temple at
Jerusalem among Renaissance artists. The peculiar head-dress and the
balanced position are also characteristic of Perugino. How closely
Raphael followed his master on these points of composition you can see
for yourself by comparing the two copies. But you can also see how
thoroughly he transformed Perugino’s spirit; retaining the form while
altering the whole sentiment and feeling of the figures. You see in it
Perugino’s conception, but Raphael’s treatment. I have called special
attention to these two pictures because they admirably illustrate the
value and importance of comparison in art. You cannot wholly understand
the Raphael without having seen the Perugino; nor can you wholly
understand the Perugino without having seen the Ghirlandajos and Fra
Angelicos, and Taddeo Gaddis which preceded it. Go from one to the other
of these two pictures and note the close resemblance even in the marble
pavement, the grouping of each component cluster, and the accessories in
the background. Nay, the more graceful attitude of the suitor who breaks
his staff in the Raphael is borrowed from a minor figure in the
background of the Perugino. It is only by thus comparing work with work
that we can arrive at a full comprehension of early painting, and
especially of the relations between painter and painter.
I will not call special attention to the various other copies in this
Museum. I will merely point out, as casting light on subjects we have
already considered, Verocchio’s Baptism of Christ, Perugino’s group from
the same subject, Raphael’s Entombment, Botticelli’s Adoration of the
Magi, and Madonnas by Filippo Lippi, Giovanni Bellini, Correggio, and
Mantegna. Many of these can be compared here and nowhere else. For those
who are making a long stay in Paris, a judicious use of this collection,
in conjunction with the Louvre, will cast unexpected light in many cases
on works in that Gallery which it has been impossible here to describe
in full detail.
The =Amphithéâtre=, approached from the Second Court, contains in its
=Vestibule= a number of =plaster casts=, also valuable for purposes of
comparison. The transitional archaic period of Greek sculpture, for
instance, ill represented at the Louvre, is here well exemplified by
casts from the statues in the pediment of the Temple of Athenè at Ægina,
now in the Pinakothek at Munich. Compare these with the reliefs from
Thasos in the Salle de Phidias. Similarly, casts of the Children of
Niobe, belonging to the same school as the Venus of Milo, are useful for
comparison with that famous statue. The Amphithéâtre itself, behind the
Vestibule, contains Paul Delaroche’s famous =Hémicycle=, one of that
great painter’s most celebrated works. Do not think, because I do not
specify, that the other objects in this Museum are unworthy of notice.
Observe them for yourself, and return afterwards to the Louvre time
after time, comparing the types you have seen here with originals of the
same artists and variants of the same subject in that collection.
VI
ST. DENIS
[ABOUT six miles north of the original Paris stands the great
=Basilica of St. Denis=—the only church in Paris, and I think
in France, called by that ancient name, which carries us back at
once to the days of the Roman Empire, and in itself bears
evidence to the antiquity of the spot as a place of worship.
Around it, a squalid modern industrial town has slowly grown up;
but the nucleus of the whole place, as the name itself shows, is
the body and shrine of the martyred bishop, St. Denis. Among the
numerous variants of his legend, the most accepted is that which
makes the apostle of Paris have carried his head to this spot
from Montmartre. (Others say he was beheaded in Paris and walked
to Montmartre, his body being afterwards translated to the
Abbey; while there are who see in his legend a survival of the
Dionysiac festival and sacrifice of the vine-growers round
Paris—Denis=Dionysius=Dionysus.) However that may be, a chapel
was erected in 275 above the grave of St. Denis, on the spot now
occupied by the great Basilica; and later, Ste. Geneviève was
instrumental in restoring it. Dagobert I, one of the few
Frankish kings who lived much in Paris, built a “basilica” in
place of the chapel (630), and instituted by its side a
Benedictine Abbey. The church and monastery which possessed the
actual body of the first bishop and great martyr of Paris formed
naturally the holiest site in the neighbourhood of the city; and
even before Paris became the capital of a kingdom, the abbots
were persons of great importance in the Frankish state. The
desire to repose close to the grave of a saint was habitual in
early times, and even (with the obvious alteration of words)
antedated Christianity—every wealthy Egyptian desiring in the
same way to “sleep with Osiris.” Dagobert himself was buried in
the church he founded, beside the holy martyr; and in later
times this very sacred spot became for the same reason the
recognised burial-place of the French kings. Dagobert’s fane was
actually consecrated by the Redeemer Himself, who descended for
the purpose by night, with a great multitude of saints and
angels.
The existing Basilica, though of far later date, is the oldest
church of any importance in the neighbourhood of Paris. It was
begun by Suger, abbot of the monastery, and sagacious minister
of Louis VI and VII, in 1121. As yet, Paris itself had no great
church, Notre-Dame having been commenced nearly 50 years later.
The earliest part of Suger’s building is in the Romanesque
style; it still retains the round Roman arch and many other
Roman constructive features. During the course of the 50 years
occupied in building the Basilica, however, the Gothic style was
developed; the existing church therefore exhibits both
Romanesque and Gothic work, with transitional features between
the two, which add to its interest. Architecturally, then, bear
in mind, it is in part =Romanesque, passing into Gothic=. The
interior is mostly pure Early Gothic.
The neighbourhood to Paris, the supremacy of the great saint,
and the fact that St. Denis was especially the =Royal Abbey=,
all combined to give it great importance. Under Suger’s
influence, Louis VI adopted the =oriflamme= or standard of St.
Denis as the royal banner of France. The Merovingian and
Carlovingian kings, to be sure—Germans rather than French—had
naturally been buried elsewhere, as at Aix-la-Chapelle, Rheims,
and Soissons (though even of them a few were interred beside the
great bishop martyr). But as soon as the =Parisian dynasty= of
the Capets came to the throne, they were almost without
exception buried at St. Denis. Hence the abbey came to be
regarded at last mainly as the =mausoleum of French royalty=,
and is still too often so regarded by tourists. But though the
exquisite Renaissance tombs of the House of Valois would well
deserve a visit on their own account, they are, at St. Denis,
but accessories to the great Basilica. Besides the actual tombs,
too, many monuments were erected here, in the 13th cent. (by St.
Louis) and afterwards, to earlier kings buried elsewhere, some
relic of whom, however, the abbey possessed and thus honoured.
Hence several of the existing tombs are of far later date than
the kings they commemorate; those of the Valois almost alone are
truly contemporary.
At the Revolution, the Basilica suffered irreparable losses. The
very sacred reliquary containing the severed head of St. Denis
was destroyed, and the remains of the martyr and his companions
desecrated. The royal bones and bodies were also disinterred and
flung into trenches indiscriminately. The tombs of the kings
were condemned to destruction, and many (chiefly in metal) were
destroyed or melted down, but not a few were saved with
difficulty by the exertions of antiquaries, and were placed in
the Museum of Monuments at Paris (now the École des Beaux-Arts),
of which Alexandre Lenoir was curator. Here, they were greatly
hacked about and mutilated, in order to fit them to their new
situations. At the Restoration, however, they were sent back to
St. Denis, together with many other monuments which had no real
place there; but, being housed in the crypt, they were further
clipped to suit their fresh surroundings. Finally, when the
Basilica was restored under Viollet-le-Duc, the tombs were
replaced as nearly as possible in their old positions; but
several intruders from elsewhere are still interspersed among
them. Louis XVIII brought back the mingled bones of his
ancestors from the common trench and interred them in the crypt.
Remember, then, these things about St. Denis: (1) It is (or
was), first and above all things, =the shrine of St. Denis and
his fellow-martyrs=. (2) It contains the remnant of =the tombs
of the French kings=. (3) It is =older= in part than almost any
other building we have yet examined.
As regards the =tombs=, again, bear in mind these facts. All the
oldest have perished; there are none here that go back much
further than the age of St. Louis, though they often represent
personages of earlier periods or dynasties. The best are those
of the Renaissance period. These are greatly influenced by the
magnificent tomb of Giangaleazzo Visconti at the Certosa di
Pavia, near Milan. Especially is this the case with the noble
monument of Louis XII, which closely imitates the Italian work.
Now, you must remember that Charles VIII and Louis XII fought
much in Italy, and were masters of Milan; hence this tomb was
familiar to them; and their Italian experiences had much to do
with the French Renaissance. The Cardinal d’Amboise, Louis’s
minister, built the Château de Gaillon, and much of the artistic
impulse of the time was due to these two. Henceforth recollect
that though François I^{er} is the Prince of the Renaissance,
Louis XII and his minister were no mean forerunners.
The Basilica is open daily; the royal tombs are shown to parties
every half-hour; but the attendants hurry visitors through with
perfunctory haste, and no adequate time is given to examine the
monuments. Therefore, =do not go to St. Denis till after= you
have seen the =Renaissance Sculpture= at the Louvre, which will
have familiarised you with the style, and will enable you better
to grasp their chief points quickly. Also, go =in the morning,
on a bright day=: in the late afternoon or on dark days you see
hardly anything.]
* * * * *
Start from the Gare du Nord. About four trains run every hour. There is
also a tramway which starts from the Opéra, the Madeleine, or the Place
du Châtelet, but the transit is long, and the weary road runs endlessly
through squalid suburbs, so that the railway is far preferable. Start
early. Take your opera-glasses.
From the St. Denis station, take the road directly to the R as far as
the modern Parish Church, when a straight street in front of you (a
little to the L) leads directly to the Basilica. On the L of the Place
in front of the great church is the Hôtel de Ville, on which it is
interesting to notice, high up on the front, the ancient royal war-cry
of “Montjoye St. Denis!”
Turn to the =Basilica=. The =façade=, of the age of Abbot Suger, is very
irregular. It consists of two lateral towers, and a central portion,
answering to the Nave. Only the south tower is now complete; the other,
once crowned by a spire, was struck by lightning in 1837. Observe the
inferiority in unity of design to the fine _façade_ of Notre-Dame, the
stories of the towers not answering in level to those of the central
portion. We have here the same general features of two western towers
and three recessed portals; but Notre-Dame has improved upon them with
Gothic feeling. The lower arches are round and Romanesque. The upper
ones show in many cases an incipient Gothic tendency. The =rose window=
has been converted into a clock. On either side of it, in medallions,
are the symbols of the four Evangelists. Observe the fine pillars and
Romanesque arcade of the one complete tower. Also, the reliefs of kings
of Israel and Judah in the blind arcade which caps the third story in
both towers. The coarse and ugly battlements which spoil the front are
part of the defensive wall of the Abbey, erected during the English wars
in the 14th century. Behind them, a little way off, you can see the high
and pointed roof of the nave, crowned by the statue of the patron, St.
Denis.
Now, enter the enclosure and examine the =three round-arched portals=.
The _Central Doorway_ has for its subject the usual scene of the Last
Judgment. The architecture of the framework is still in the main that of
the 13th cent. The relief in the tympanum has been much restored, but
still retains its Romanesque character. In the centre is Christ,
enthroned, with angels. On His R hand, the blessed, with the Angel of
the Last Trump as elsewhere. On His L, the condemned, with the Angel
bearing the sword, and thrusting the wicked into Hell: all conventional
features. The Latin inscriptions mean, “Come, ye blessed of My Father”;
and “Depart from Me, ye wicked.” Beneath is the General Resurrection,
souls rising (mostly naked) from the tomb. To R and L of the doorway,
below, are the frequent subjects of the Wise and Foolish Virgins. Above,
on the archway, figures of saints and patriarchs, amongst whom is
conspicuous King David. Notice in the very centre or key of the archway,
Christ receiving souls from angels. To His R, Abraham with three blessed
souls in his bosom (as at St. Germain l’Auxerrois). To His L, devils
seizing the condemned, whom they thrust into hell, while angels struggle
for them. Higher still, on the arch, angels swinging a censer, and an
angel displaying a medallion of the lamb. This door formed the model on
which those of Notre-Dame, the Sainte Chapelle, St. Germain l’Auxerrois,
and many others in Paris of later date, were originally based. The
actual doors have naïve bronze reliefs of the Passion, Resurrection, and
Ascension. Notice the quaint character of these reliefs, and of the
delicate decorative design which surrounds them,—broken, in the case of
the Supper at Emmaus, by the figure of a monk, probably Abbot Suger,
grasping a pillar. The Resurrection, with its sleeping Roman soldiers,
and the Kiss of Judas, with Peter sheathing his sword and Christ healing
the ear of Malchus, are also very typical. Do not fail to notice,
either, the beautiful decoration of the pilasters and their capitals.
All this is delicate and characteristic Romanesque tracery.
The other doors commemorate the =History of St. Denis=. On the _South
Door_ is a much-restored and practically modern relief of St. Denis in
prison with Christ bringing him the last sacrament; it has been largely
made up by the aid of the old French painting of the same subject in the
Louvre. In front are figures symbolical of his martyrdom—the
executioner, etc. On the sides, reliefs of the Months. On the _North
Door_, St. Denis condemned and on his way to Montmartre, with his two
companions, Rusticus and Eleutherius, chained; they are accompanied in
the sky by the Eternal Father and the heavenly host. On the archway,
interesting reliefs of the three martyrs, with an angel supporting the
châsse containing their relics. On the sides, the signs of the Zodiac.
Walk round the =North Side= to observe the decorated flamboyant
architecture of the chapels of the North Aisle (much later) with the
flying buttresses above them. Also, the North Transept, with its rose
window, and the peculiar =radiating chapels= around the =apse=, which
form a characteristic feature of the Romanesque style. Observe these as
well as you can from the extreme end of the railing. Return to Transept.
The sculpture over the North Portal represents the Decapitation of St.
Denis. On the centre pier, a Madonna and Child. R and L, Kings of Judah.
The South Side is inaccessible. It is enclosed by buildings on the site
of the old monastery (not ancient—age of Louis XIV), now used as a
place of education for daughters of Chevaliers de la Légion d’Honneur.
The =interior= is most beautiful. The first portion of the church which
we enter is a =vestibule= or _Galilee_ under the side towers and end of
the Nave. Compare Durham. It is of the age of Abbot Suger, but already
exhibits pointed arches in the upper part. The architecture is solid and
massive, but somewhat gloomy.
Descend a few steps into the =Nave=, which is surrounded by single
aisles, whose vaulting should be noticed. The architecture of this part,
now pure Early Gothic, is extremely lovely. The triforium is delicate
and graceful. The windows in the clerestory above it, representing kings
and queens, are almost all modern. Notice the great height of the Nave,
and the unusual extent to which the triforium and clerestory project
above the noble vaulting of the aisles. Note that the triforium itself
opens directly to the air, and is supplied with stained-glass windows,
seen through its arches. Sit awhile in this light and lofty Nave, in
order to take in the beautiful view up the church towards the choir and
_chevet_.
Then walk up to the Barrier near the Transepts, where sit again, in
order to observe the =Choir= and =Transepts= with the staircase which
leads to the raised Ambulatory. Observe that the transepts are simple.
The ugly stained glass in the windows of their clerestory contains
illustrations of the reign of Louis Philippe, with extremely
unpicturesque costumes of the period. The trousers are unspeakable. The
architecture of the Nave and Choir, with its light and airy arches and
pillars, is of the later 13th century.
The reason for this is that Suger’s building was thoroughly restored
from 1230 onwards, in the pure pointed style of that best period. The
upper part of the Choir, and the whole of the Nave and Transepts was
then rebuilt—which accounts for the gracefulness and airiness of its
architecture when contrasted with the dark and heavy vestibule of the
age of Suger.
Note from this point the arrangement of the Choir, which, to those who
do not know Italy, will be quite unfamiliar. As at San Zeno in Verona,
San Miniato in Florence, and many other Romanesque churches, =the Choir
is raised= by some steps above the Nave and Transepts; while =the Crypt=
is slightly depressed beneath them. In the Crypt, in such cases, are the
actual bodies of the saints buried there; while the Altar stands
directly over their tombs in the Choir above it.
Look every way from this point at the tombs within sight, at the Choir
and Transepts, and at the steps of the Ambulatory. Do not be in a hurry
to enter. On the contrary, sit awhile longer in the body of the Nave,
=outside= the barrier, and read what follows.
[The custodians hurry you so rapidly through the reserved part
of the church that it will be well =before entering the
enclosure= to glance through the succeeding notes, explanatory
of what you are about to see. The remarks to be read _as you go
round the building_ I insert separately, in the briefest
possible words, as aids to memory.
The tomb of =Louis XII= (d. 1515) and his wife, Anne de Bretagne
(d. 1514), is the earliest of the great Renaissance tombs in
France, and the first in order in this Basilica. Long believed
to be of Italian workmanship, it is now known to be the
production of Jean Juste of Tours, unknown otherwise, but
supposed to be a Florentine. It is imitated from the
Giangaleazzo Visconti, already mentioned, in the Certosa di
Pavia. This tomb, the first you see, struck the keynote for such
works of the Renaissance in France. It is a good and apparently
French imitation of the Italian original, and it fitly marks
Louis XII’s place in the artistic movement. Remember his statue
by Lorenzo da Mugiano in the Louvre, and his connection with
Cardinal d’Amboise and the Château de Gaillon.
The next important monument is that of =Dagobert I= (d. 638),
the founder of the Abbey, probably erected in his honour, as a
sort of shrine, by St. Louis in the 13th cent. In order to
understand this tomb (which you are only allowed to see across
the whole breadth of the choir), it is necessary to know the
=legend= to which the mediæval sculptures on the canopy refer.
When Dagobert died, demons tried to steal his soul; but he was
rescued by St. Denis, to whom he had built this abbey, assisted
by St. Maurice and St. Martin of Tours—a significant story,
pointing the moral of how good a thing it is to found a
monastery. The narrative is told in three stages, one above the
other. (1) An anchorite, sleeping, is shown by St. Denis in a
dream that the king’s soul is in danger; to the R, Dagobert
stands in a little boat (like the boat of Charon); demons seize
him and take off his crown. (2) The three saints come to the
king’s rescue, attended by two angels, one swinging a censer,
the other holding a vase of holy water; St. Martin and St. Denis
see the tortured soul; the soldier St. Maurice, sword in hand,
attacks the demons. (3) The three saints, attended by the
angels, hold a sheet, on which the soul of Dagobert stands,
praying. The Hand of God appears in a glory above, to lift him
into heaven. These are on the canopy; beneath, on the tomb
itself, lies a modern restored recumbent statue of Dagobert;
there are also erect figures of his son Sigebert (restored), and
his queen, Nantilde (original).
The tomb of =Henri II= (d. 1559) and his queen, =Catherine de
Médicis= (d. 1589)—the third of any importance—was executed by
the great sculptor, Germain Pilon, during the lifetime of the
latter. (It was he, too, you will remember, who made the
exquisite group of figures, now in the Louvre, to support the
urn which was to contain their hearts.) As in many contemporary
tombs, the king and queen are represented alive and kneeling, in
bronze, above, and nude and dead in marble on the tomb below.
(We saw a similar tomb at the Louvre.) A =second monument=,
close by, to the same king and queen, has recumbent marble
figures on a bronze couch,—Catherine is said in her devouter
old age to have disapproved of the nudity of the figures on the
first tomb—but as it was usual to distribute relics of French
kings to various abbeys, such duplicate monuments were once
common.
The tomb of =Frédégonde= (d. 597) from St. Germain-des-Prés, is
a curious mosaic figure of marble and copper, almost unique in
character. It is =not= of the Queen’s own age, but was added to
her shrine in the 12th century. Most of these early kings and
queens, founders and benefactors of monasteries, were either
actually canonized or were treated as saints by the monks whom
they had benefited: and tombs in their honour were repaired or
reedified after the Norman invasion and other misfortunes.
Two monuments of the =children of St. Louis=, from other abbeys,
carried first to Lenoir’s Museum, are now in this Basilica. They
are of enamelled copper, with =repoussé= figures, executed at
Limoges.
The most costly, though not to my mind the most beautiful, of
the Renaissance tombs is that of =François I^{er}= (d. 1547). On
the summit are kneeling figures of the King, his wife Claude,
and their three children. The reliefs on the pedestal represent
the battles of Marignano and Cerisole. This tomb, like that of
Louis XII, is ultimately based on the Visconti monument in the
Certosa, but it exhibits a much later and more refined
development of French Renaissance sculpture than its
predecessor. It is by Germain Pilon, Philibert Delorme, and
(perhaps) Jean Goujon. The architectural plan is noble and
severe: but it lacks the more naïve beauty of Jean Juste’s
workmanship.
It was the curious custom to treat the bodies of French Kings
(who, as royal, were almost sacred) much as the relics of the
Saints were treated. Hence the head and heart were often
preserved separately and in different places from the body to
which they belonged. François I^{er} himself was interred here:
but an =urn= to hold his heart was placed in the Abbaye des
Hautes Bruyères, near Rambouillet. This urn is a fine
Renaissance work by Pierre Bontemps. Taken to Lenoir’s Musée des
Monuments at the Revolution, it was afterwards placed beside the
king’s tomb in this Basilica.
Look out in the Apse for the Altar of St. Denis, and his
fellow-martyrs. Near it used once to hang the Oriflamme, that
very sacred banner which was only removed when a King of France
took the field in person. It was last used at Agincourt. A
reproduction now represents it.
The other monuments can be best observed by the brief notes
given as we pass them. The arrangements for seeing them are
quite as bad as those in our own cathedrals, and it is
impossible to get near enough to examine them properly.
Therefore, =take your bearings from the Nave= _before_ you
enter, and try to understand the architecture of the choir as
far as possible before you pass the barriers.
Disregard the remarks made by the guide (who expects a tip), and
read these brief notes for yourself as you pass the objects.]
=Enter the enclosure.=
North Aisle: L, several good mediæval recumbent tombs, mostly from other
abbeys, named on placards. Read them.
Then, =Tombs of the Family of St. Louis=, recumbent, also named: 13th
and 14th cents.
=**Tomb of Louis XII=, and his wife Anne de Bretagne, by Jean Juste of
Tours. After the Certosa monument. Beneath, Twelve Apostles; four
allegorical figures of Virtues: king and queen, in centre, recumbent;
above, on canopy, king and queen kneeling. On base, reliefs of his
Italian victories.
R, column commemorating Henri III, by Barthélemy Prieur.
Stand by =steps= leading to =raised Ambulatory=, only point of view for
=**Tomb of Dagobert=, on opposite side of choir, 13th cent. Legend of
his soul, see above. Erect statues of Sigebert, his son, and Nantilde,
his queen. Insist on time to view it with opera-glass.
L, =**Tomb of Henry II= and Catherine de Médicis. King and queen
recumbent, in marble, below; kneeling, in bronze, above. At corners, the
four cardinal virtues, bronze. Also after Certosa.
=Ascend steps to Ambulatory.=
Below, monuments of the Valois family.
Above, L, second monument of Henri II and Catherine de Médicis,
recumbent marble on bronze mattress. Observe monograms of H and D, as on
Louvre.
Proceed round Ambulatory. =Chapels= to the L have stained-glass windows
of 12th and 13th cents. Interesting subjects, which note in passing.
=**=Beautiful =view across the church= as you pass the transepts.
In the centre of the =apse= of the Choir (above the tombs in Crypt), is
the Altar of St. Denis, with his fellow-martyrs, St. Rusticus and St
Eleutherius—modern imitation of the original shrine, broken at the
Revolution. During the _neuvaine_ (nine days after St. Denis’ day—Oct.
9) the Reliquaries are exposed in the Nave, near the barrier. On one
side of the Altar is a reproduction of the Oriflamme.
Beyond this Altar, continue along the South Side of the Ambulatory, to
the =Sacristy=. Modern paintings, here, relating to the History of the
Abbey. Labels beneath describe their subjects.
Adjoining it is the =Treasury=, containing only uninteresting modern
church utensils.
Beyond the Sacristy, =Tomb of Frédégonde=, from St. Germain-des-Prés.
Hands, feet, and face probably once painted.
Descend steps from ambulatory.
=Descend to Crypt.=
This, the oldest portion of the existing building, was erected by Suger,
to contain the Tombs of the Three Martyrs, buried under their altar. Its
architecture is the most interesting of all in the Basilica. Notice the
quaint Romanesque capitals of the columns. In the centre, bones of the
Royal Family, within the grating. Neglect them, and observe the arches.
In the =Crypt Chapels=, uninteresting modern statues (Marie Antoinette,
Louis XVI, colossal figures for the Monument of the Duc de Berry, etc.).
Neglect these also, and observe rather the architecture and =good
fragments of glass= in windows, particularly a very naïve Roasting of
St. Lawrence.
=Return to church.=
Monument of Du Guesclin, 1380.
Louis de Sancerre, 1402.
Renée de Longueville, from the Church of the Célestins.
=Blanche and Jean=, children of St. Louis, enamelled copper, Limoges;
from other abbeys.
=**François I^{er}=, his wife, Claude, and their three children, above.
On pedestal, Scenes from his battles; High Renaissance work: Philibert
Delorme, Germain Pilon, and Jean Goujon. More stately, but less
interesting than Louis XII.
=**Urn=, to contain heart of François I^{er}, from the nunnery of Hautes
Bruyères.
Louis d’Orléans and Valentine of Milan, from the Church of the
Célestins.
Charles d’Étampes; 1336, with 24 small figures of saints.
* * * * *
Leave the enclosure and return to the church. I advise you then to read
this all over again, and finally, go round a second time, to complete
the picture.
* * * * *
The Abbey and Church are closely bound up at every turn with French
history. In Dagobert’s building, in 754, Pope Stephen II, flying from
the Lombards, consecrated Charlemagne and his brother Carloman. In the
existing Basilica, St. Louis took down the Oriflamme to set forth on his
Crusade; and Joan of Arc hung up her armour as a votive offering after
the siege of Orleans. But indeed, St. Denis played an important part in
all great ceremonials down to the Revolution, and its name occurs on
every page of old French history.
* * * * *
On your return to Paris, you may find this a convenient moment to visit
=St. Vincent de Paul=, which lies two minutes away from the Gare de
Nord.
* * * * *
After visiting St. Denis the reader will probably find it desirable to
examine certain objects from the =Treasury of the Basilica= now
preserved in the =Louvre=. They are mostly contained in the Galerie
d’Apollon, in the glass case nearest the window which looks out upon the
Seine. (Position of cases liable to alteration: if not here, look out
for it elsewhere in the same room.) The most important of these objects
is an antique Egyptian vase in porphyry, which Abbot Suger had mounted
in the 12th cent. in a silver-gilt frame, as an eagle. It contains an
inscription composed by the Abbot in Latin hexameters, and implying that
it was to be used for the service of the altar. Near it is an antique
Roman sardonyx vase, also mounted as a jug by Suger in the 12th cent.,
and from the same Treasury: its inscription says, “I, Suger, offer this
vase to the Lord.” Also, another in rock-crystal, which has been
similarly treated: it bears the name of Alienor d’Aquitaine: she gave it
to Louis VII, who passed it on to Suger: a 12th cent. inscription on the
base records these facts, as well as its dedication to Sts. Rusticus and
Eleutherius. The same case contains a beautiful Carlovingian serpentine
paten, which formed part of the treasure of Dagobert’s Abbey. Observe,
close by, the beautiful silver-gilt Madonna, characteristic French work
of the 14th cent., offered by Queen Jeanne d’Evreux to the Abbey of St.
Denis, and bearing an easily-deciphered inscription in old French. Note
that the Madonna in this royal offering carries in her hand the
fleur-de-lis of France. Compare this work mentally with the other early
French Madonnas we have already observed in the Mediæval Sculpture Room.
Among other objects in this same case observe the curious double cross,
with cover and lid to contain it; where the inscription above the head
of the inner cross indicates the natural origin of the doubling. Close
inspection of this object will explain to you many little points in
others. Several similar Crucifixions, with Madonna and St. John and
attendant angels, are in the same room: compare them with it. To the R
is a good relief of the Maries at the Sepulchre; a double crucifix with
St. John and the Madonna; and a reliquary fashioned to contain the arm
of St. Louis of Toulouse. Most of these objects are sufficiently
explained by the labels: the antique inscriptions, sometimes in Greek,
are easily legible. (Beautiful view out of window to L.)
The examination of this case will form a point of departure for the
visitor who cares to examine the =minor art-works= in the Galerie
d’Apollon and other rooms of the Louvre. I have left them till now, for
the sake of the peg on which to hang them. I will therefore note here,
in this connection, one or two other things which may assist the reader
in the examination of the remainder, leaving him, as usual, to fill in
the details of the scheme by personal observation and comparison of
objects.
Walk down the centre of the Galerie d’Apollon, on the side towards the
windows, passing the tawdry crown jewels, and the many exquisite
Classical or Renaissance works in the cabinet beyond it, all of which
you can afterwards examine at your leisure. (Some of the antique busts
in precious stones come from Abbey Treasuries, where they were preserved
and sanctified during the Middle Ages.) But in the last case save one,
observe, near the centre, a very quaint little figure of St. Lawrence,
lying comfortably on his gridiron, and holding in his hands a tiny
reliquary, almost as big as himself—a finger with a nail on it,
intended for the reception of a bone of the Saint’s own little finger.
This odd little reliquary, French 14th cent., when compared with that
for the arm of St. Louis of Toulouse, will help you to understand many
similar reliquaries, both here and elsewhere. The martyr is put there as
a mode of signifying the fact—“This is a bone of St. Lawrence.” Above
it, note again five charming crosiers, containing respectively
representations of the Madonna enthroned, the Annunciation, the
Coronation of the Virgin, again the Annunciation, and a decorative
design of great beauty. Note their date and place of origin on the
labels. When once your attention has been called to the occurrence of
such definite scenes in similar objects, you will be able to recognise
them at once for yourself in many like situations. In the Annunciation
to the L, observe once more the very odd way in which the usual lily is
carefully obtruded between the angel Gabriel and Our Lady. Some obvious
barrier between the two was demanded by orthodoxy: here, the decorative
device by which the difficulty has been surmounted is clever and
effective. Between this crosier and that of the Coronation, look again
at a queer little reliquary, held by the Madonna and Child, with a glass
front for the exhibition of the relic. Another Madonna, close by to the
L, similarly holds on her lap a charming little reliquary basin. The
same case contains several coffers and reliquaries in _champlevé_
enamel, the most interesting of which is the Coffer of St. Louis, with
decorative designs showing Romanesque tendencies. At the far end of the
case, two charming silver-gilt angels, 14th cent., also bearing
reliquaries. Examine in detail all the objects in this most interesting
case. They will help, I hope, to throw light upon others which you will
see elsewhere.
I do not intend to go at equal length through all the cases in this
interesting room; but your visit to St. Denis ought now to have put you
in a fit frame of mind for comprehending the meaning of most of these
works by the light of the hints already given. I will only therefore
call special attention to the beautiful decorative box, containing a
book of the Gospels, in French enamel-work and jewellery of the 11th
cent., in the last window on the right, before you reach the Rotonde
d’Apollon. This valuable book-cover is also from the Abbey Treasury of
St. Denis. It exhibits the usual Crucifixion, with the Madonna and St.
John, and the adoring angels, together with figures of the symbols of
the Evangelists, whose names are here conveniently attached to them. The
next case, to the R of this one, also contains _champlevé_ enamels of
the 12th and 13th cents., all of which should similarly be examined.
Note among them, to the extreme R in the case, a very quaint quatrefoil
with St. Francis receiving the Stigmata; a subject with which you will
already be familiar from Giotto’s treatment, and whose adaptation here
to a decorative purpose is curious and enlightening. Next to it, L, a
Death of the Virgin. Further on, two delicious little plaques—one, of
Abraham and Melchisedech, with St. Luke—(Abraham, as soldier, being
attired in the knightly costume of the Bayeux Tapestry); and the other
of the Offering of Isaac, with St. Mark; two of a series of the
Evangelists with Old Testament subjects. Above these, the Emperor
Heraclius killing Chosroes, with cherubim. Still higher, a most
exquisite Adoration of the Magi. Also Christ in Glory, in a mandorla,
with the symbols of the Evangelists; and two closely similar
Crucifixions, with a Madonna and St. John, and adoring angels. Compare
these with the similar subject in the first case we visited. This frame
also contains three charming saints in Byzantine style, a good St.
Matthew, and a little King David holding a psalter. Do not leave one of
the objects in this window unidentified and unexamined.
I notice all these decorative treatments here merely in order to suggest
to the reader the way in which the knowledge he has gained of the fabric
of St. Denis may be utilised to examine works of art from the great
Abbey both here and at Cluny. You will find it useful to visit both
collections on your return from such a church, in order to mentally
replace in their proper surroundings works now divorced from it. Some
other good objects from the same Treasury may also be seen at the
Bibliothèque Nationale.
VII
THE OUTER RING, ETC.
[PARIS, =outside the great Boulevards= comprises by far the
larger part of the existing city. Nevertheless, it contains
comparatively few objects of historical or artistic importance,
being almost entirely modern and merely residential. Walks and
drives in this part of Paris are pleasing, of course, as
exhibiting the life of the great town, and they embrace many
points of passing interest, such as the Trocadéro, the Champs
Élysées, the Champ-de-Mars, the Place de l’Étoile, the Arc de
Triomphe, the Parc Monceau, the church of the Sacré-Cœur on the
height of Montmartre, etc., etc. Most of these the visitor will
find out for himself. They do not need any explanation or
elucidation.
Among the very few objects of historical interest in this
district, I would call special attention to the =Maison de
François I^{er}=, on the Cours-la-Reine, at the first corner
after you pass the Palais de l’Industrie. This beautiful little
gem of domestic Renaissance architecture was erected for
François I^{er} at Moret, near Fontainebleau, in 1527, probably
as a gift for Diane de Poitiers, the mistress of Henri II,
though it is also asserted that the king built it for his
sister, Queen Margaret of Navarre. It was taken down in 1826,
and rebuilt on the present site. The style recalls that of the
Renaissance palaces of Venice. The delicate and beautiful
decorative work of the pilasters, etc., and the dainty portrait
medallions deserve inspection. Do not miss this charming little
building, which should be compared with Jean Goujon’s portion of
the Louvre, and with the Renaissance remains at the École des
Beaux-Arts and elsewhere.
A collection to which a few hours may be devoted, in the same
connection, by those who have time, is the =Musée Carnavalet=,
which lies, however, _within_ the Boulevards. The building is a
fine Renaissance mansion, once the residence of Madame de
Sévigné. Many of the objects preserved here have a purely
sentimental and to say the truth somewhat childish interest,
consisting as they do of relics of the Great Revolution or other
historical events, which derive whatever value they happen to
possess from their sentimental connection only. But some of the
objects have real artistic and historical importance; so have
the decorations by Jean Goujon. When you have seen everything
else enumerated here, you may give with advantage a Thursday
morning to this somewhat scratch collection. The most important
objects are those in the garden.
For the Champs Élysées, the Arc de Triomphe, and the other
buildings or promenades of wealthy, modern, western Paris, the
guidance of Baedeker is amply sufficient.
* * * * *
The buildings already enumerated and the objects noted in them form the
most important sights in Paris, and are as many as the tourist is likely
to find time for visiting during a stay of some weeks. If, however, he
can add a few days to his sojourn, I give briefly some hints as to a
list of other objects worthy his notice—taking it for granted, of
course, that he will find his way to the Champs Élysées, the Bois de
Boulogne, the theatres, etc., by the light of nature, not unaided by
Baedeker. Amid the mass of information tendered in the ordinary Guides,
the visitor scarcely knows how to distinguish the necessary from the
optional. This short list may help him in his selection.
In the old region on the South Side (between the river and Cluny) are
two churches worth inspection by the antiquarian: (1) =St.
Julien-le-Pauvre=, the former chapel of the old Hôtel Dieu, which here
occupied both banks, spreading to the spot now covered by the statue of
Charlemagne; transitional; 12th cent.; and (2) =St. Séverin=, dedicated
to two local Gallic saints, of the same name; good flamboyant Gothic;
its interesting portal commemorates St. Martin, part of whose famous
cloak was kept in a chapel here; the _façade_ was brought from St.
Pierre-aux-Bœufs, on the Île de la Cité, demolished in 1837; good modern
reliefs on altar represent episodes in the lives of the two saints—St.
Séverin the Abbot healing Clovis, and St. Séverin the Hermit ordaining
St. Cloud. Altogether, a church to be visited and understood, rich in
historic interest.
Among churches of the later period, the =domes= and their development
are worthy of study, as illustrating the ideal of the 17th and 18th
cents. The earliest was =St. Paul et St. Louis= (originally Jesuit),
1627, with a massive and gaudy Louis XIV doorway; interior, florid and
tawdry, after the Jesuit fashion. Next comes the =Sorbonne=, 1635,
interesting from its original connection with St. Louis (his confessor,
Robert de Sorbon, founded the hostel, of which this is the far later
church, for poor theological students); it is the first important dome,
and contains an overrated monument to Richelieu by Lebrun, executed by
Girardon. If you have plenty of time, you may visit it. Then the
=Invalides=, 1705, now containing the tomb of Napoleon. Lastly, the
=Panthéon=, already described. If visited in this order, they form an
instructive series. Note the gradual increase in classicism, which
culminates in the =Madeleine=. The earlier domes resemble those of the
Rome of Bernini: the later grow more and more Grecian in their
surroundings. The =Institut= (included here for its dome) and
=Val-de-Grâce= are sufficiently inspected with a glance in passing.
The churches of the innermost Paris are mostly dedicated to local
saints; those of the outer ring of Louis XIV to a somewhat wider circle
of Catholic interest; among them, =St. Roch=, the famous plague-saint,
deserves a visit; it is rococo and vulgar, but representative. The
churches in the outer ring are of still broader dedication, often to
newer saints of humanitarian or doctrinal importance. Among these quite
modern buildings, =St. Vincent-de-Paul= ranks first, on account of its
magnificent frieze by Flandrin, running round the nave, and representing
a procession of saints and martyrs, suggested by the mosaics in Sant’
Apollinare Nuovo at Ravenna; this the visitor should on no account omit;
it lies near the Gare du Nord, and is a good example of the basilica
style, successfully adapted to modern needs. Baedeker will here
efficiently serve you. But, though artistically fine, Flandrin’s
frescoes are not nearly so effective as the original mosaics in
Theodoric’s basilica. The other great modern churches—St. Augustin, St.
Ambroise, La Trinité, Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, Ste. Clotilde, etc.—need
only be visited by those who have plenty of time, and who take an
intelligent interest in contemporary Catholicism. But, if you can manage
it, you should certainly mount the hill of =Montmartre=, the most sacred
site in Paris, both for the sake of the splendid view, for the memories
of St. Denis (the common legend says, beheaded here; a variant asserts,
buried for the first time before his translation to the Abbey of St.
Denis), and for the interesting modern Byzantine-Romanesque pile of the
=Sacré-Cœur= which now approaches completion. Close by is the quaint old
church of St. Pierre-de-Montmartre, and behind it a curious belated
Calvary.
Those whom this book may have interested in church-lore will find very
full details on all these subjects in Miss Beale’s “Churches of Paris.”
Another useful book is Lonergan’s “Historic Churches of Paris.” With the
key I have striven to give, and the aid of these works, the visitor
should be able to unlock for himself the secrets of all the churches.
* * * * *
Two pretty little parks which deserve a passing visit are the =Parc
Monceau=, near the Ternes, and still more, the =Buttes Chaumont=, in the
heart of the poor district of La Villette and Belleville, showing well
what can be done by gardening for the beautification of such squalid
quarters. The =Jardin d’Acclimatation= in the Bois de Boulogne, and the
=Jardin des Plantes=, at the extreme east end of the South Side are both
interesting, especially to the zoologist and botanist. The last-named is
best reached by a pleasant trip on one of the river steamers.
Of collections, not here noted, the most important is the =Musée Guimet=
of Oriental art, near the Trocadéro. It should be visited (if time
permits) by all who are interested in Chinese, Japanese, and Indian
products. The =Trocadéro= itself contains a good collection of casts,
valuable for the study of comparative plastic development; but they can
only be used to effect by persons who can afford several days at least
to study them (in other words, residents). The Ethnographical Museum in
the same building is good, but need only detain those who have special
knowledge in the subject.
* * * * *
To know =what to avoid= is almost as important as to know what to visit.
Under this category, I may say that no intelligent person need trouble
himself about Père-Lachaise and the other cemeteries; the Catacombs; the
various Halles or Markets; the interiors of the Conservatoire des Arts
et Métiers (except so far as above indicated), the Bourse, the Banque de
France, the Bibliothèque Nationale (unless, of course, he is a student
and wishes to read there), the Archives, the Imprimerie Nationale, the
various Courts and Public Offices, the Gobelins Manufactory, the Sèvres
porcelain works, the Institut, the Mint, the Invalides, the Chamber of
Deputies, the buildings in the Champ-de-Mars (except while the Salon
there is open), the Observatory, and so forth. In Paris proper, I think
I have enumerated above almost everything that calls for special notice
from any save specialists.
* * * * *
Three =Excursions from Paris= are absolutely indispensable for any one
who wishes to gain a clear idea of the France of the Renaissance and the
succeeding epoch.
The first, and by far the most important of these, is that to
=Fontainebleau=, a visit to which is necessary in order to enable you
properly to fill in the mental picture of the change wrought by François
I^{er} and his successors in French art and architecture. It is an
inevitable complement to your visits to the Louvre. This excursion,
however, should only be made after the visitor has thoroughly seen and
digested the Renaissance collections in the Louvre, and the École des
Beaux-Arts, as well as the Tombs of the Kings at St. Denis. Baedeker is
an amply sufficient guide for this the most interesting and instructive
excursion that can be made from Paris. One day suffices for a visit to
the Château and a glimpse of the Forest; though a week can be pleasantly
spent in this charming region. After your return, you will do well to
visit the Renaissance Sculpture at the Louvre again. Many of the works
will gain fresh meaning for you after inspection of the surroundings for
which they were designed, and the architecture which formed their
natural setting.
The second excursion, also valuable from the point of view of the study
of the Renaissance, is that to =St. Germain=, where the Château itself,
and the exquisite view from the Terrace, are almost equally delightful.
Those interested in =prehistoric archæology=, too, should not miss
seeing the very valuable collection in the Museum installed in the
Château, probably the finest of its sort in the world, and rich in
drawings and other remains of the cave-men of the Dordogne.
The third excursion, in every respect less pleasing and instructive, is
that to =Versailles=. This must be taken rather as a duty than as a
pleasure. Leave it for some enticing day in summer. Neither as regards
art or nature can the great cumbrous palace and artificial domain of
Louis XIV be compared in beauty to the other two. The building is a
cold, formal, unimposing pile, filled with historic pictures of the
dullest age, or modern works of often painful mediocrity, whose very
mass and monotony makes most of them uninteresting. The grounds and
trees have been drilled into ranks with military severity. The very
fountains are aggressive. Nevertheless, a visit to the palace and
gardens is absolutely necessary in order to enable the visitor to
understand the France of the 17th and 18th centuries, with its formal
art and its artificial nature. You will there begin more fully to
understand the powdered world of the du Barrys and the Pompadours, the
alleys and clipped trees of Le Nôtre’s gardens, the atmosphere that
surrounds the affected pictures of Boucher, Vanloo, and Watteau. Take it
in this spirit, and face it manfully. Here, again, the indications in
Baedeker are amply sufficient by way of guidance.
When you have seen these three, you need not trouble yourself further
with excursions from Paris, unless indeed you have ample time at your
disposal and desire country jaunts for the sake of mere outing. But
these three you omit at your historical peril.]
* * * * *
In conclusion, I would say in all humility, I am only too conscious that
I have but scratched in this book the surface of Paris. Adequately to
fill in the outline so sketched, for so great and beautiful a city, so
rich in historical and artistic interest, would require a big book—and
big books are not easy to carry about with one, sight-seeing. Moreover,
I reflect by way of comfort, it is not good for us to be told
everything; something must be left for the individual intelligence to
have the pleasure of discovering. All I have endeavoured to do here is
to _suggest a method_; if I have succeeded in making you take an
interest in Mediæval and Renaissance Paris, if I have stimulated in you
a desire to learn more about it, I have succeeded in my object. However
imperfect this work may be—and nobody can be more conscious of its
imperfections than its author—it will be justified if it arouses
curiosity and intelligent inspection of works of art or antiquity, in
place of mere listless and casual perambulation.
It is common in England to hear superior people sneer at Paris as modern
and meretricious. I often wonder whether these people have ever really
seen Paris at all—that beautiful, wonderful, deeply interesting Paris,
some glimpse of which I have endeavoured to give in this little volume.
To such I would say, when you are next at your favourite hotel in the
Avenue de l’Opéra, take a few short walks to St. Germain-des-Prés, the
Place des Vosges, St. Étienne-du-Mont, St. Eustache, and Cluny, and see
whether you will not modify your opinion.