THE HÔTEL DES INVALIDES.
A Glance at its History--Louis XIV. and Mme. de Maintenon--The
Pensioners--Their Characteristics and Mode of Life.
Another of the most notable buildings on the left bank of the Seine is
the Hôtel des Invalides. “There is no institution more worthy of
respect,” said Montesquieu, “than the Hôtel des Invalides. If I were a
prince I would rather have founded this establishment than have won
three battles.”
[Illustration: STATUE OF NAPOLEON. (_Formerly on the Vendôme Column, now
in the Invalides._)]
Before its institution Paris was full of old soldiers, mutilated,
miserable, and begging their bread. Nevertheless, they inspired a
natural and just interest as long ago as the time of Charlemagne, who
assigned them to the care of the priories and abbeys. “His successors,”
says M. de Chamberet in his “Histoire des Invalides,” “continued the
work of charity. When all the places in the religious houses were full,
assistance was given to the old soldiers, and in some cases fixed
pensions. But they were for the most part in deplorable circumstances.
Philip Augustus, the first of our kings who maintained a standing army,
conceived the idea of creating special establishments for his old
soldiers, and his grandson Saint Louis, on his return from the Crusades,
carried out to a certain degree the project formed by Philip Augustus.
The institution he founded was intended, however, for the reception only
of men of birth who had been blinded by the burning sands of Palestine.
The asylum, named Les Quinze-Vingts, was intended in fact for the blind,
and in connection with its original object the name has been preserved.”
Charles VI. did nothing; nor, during the English invasion and
occupation, would it have been possible to do much. Charles VII. did
very little, and Louis XI. followed the example of his predecessor.
Louis XII., the “father of his people,” Francis I., the “father of
letters,” and Henri II., the noble husband of Catherine de Médicis,
occupied themselves more or less with the fate of old and wounded
soldiers. Finally, on the 28th of October, 1568, Charles IX. published a
decree regulating the admission of wounded veterans to the priories and
abbeys. Under various pretexts old soldiers, it would seem, had been
admitted into religious houses without sufficient authority. The
ecclesiastical bodies complained of having these warriors quartered upon
them, and the warriors on their side complained that no provision was
made for their declining years. At length the matter received the
serious attention of Henri IV. Wishing to appease the ecclesiastics, but
at the same time not to neglect the old soldiers with whose aid he had
conquered his kingdom, he conceived the idea--which had already occurred
to more than one of his predecessors--of creating a special asylum for
both officers and men. In confirmation of his project, he issued an
edict in April, 1600, and letters patent in January, 1605, though his
death in 1610 prevented the founding of the establishment.
[Illustration: DOME OF THE HÔTEL DES INVALIDES.]
Far from prosecuting his idea, Marie de Médicis, now declared regent,
suppressed, by an order of the Council of State, the Military Houses of
Christian Charity and the House of Lourcine; and she afterwards
commanded that the mutilated officers and soldiers should go, as in the
past, to find shelter as recluses in the abbeys and priories liable for
their maintenance.
This unsatisfactory system led to all kinds of abuses, and the
complaints of the monastic brotherhoods at length assumed an absolutely
violent character. Louis XIII., to put an end to such a condition of
things, established, by an edict of November, 1633, under the title of
“Commanderie de St. Louis,” a community in which wounded military
veterans could be housed and fed for the rest of their lives. The want
of funds, however, and preoccupations of one kind and another, prevented
the prosecution of this scheme, which made no progress until Richelieu
took it in hand and on the 7th of August, 1834, continued the work at
his own expense. Unfortunately, however, just when the new institution
was on the point of being inaugurated (the public sheets had pompously
announced it, and a procession of the Commanderie of Saint Louis, with
flag and banner, had proclaimed it in the streets) the whole thing was
suddenly and unaccountably abandoned.
The old soldiers were still lamentably unprovided for when this ancient
grievance forced itself upon the notice of Louis XIV. Paris was just
then inundated with soldiers reduced to the last extremity, although an
ordinance of the 7th of January, 1644, required them to be sent out of
the town as quickly as possible, and despatched to the frontiers, where,
it was said, a subsistence was assured to them. Another decree strictly
forbade them to solicit alms. Both edicts, however, were in practice
ignored. Some of the invalids continued to stay in Paris; others went
into the provinces to carry with them disorder and scandal. In 1670 a
royal edict was issued ordering the immediate construction of the Hôtel
des Invalides; and, pending its completion, part of the funds set apart
for it were employed for renting in the Rue du Cherche-Midi an immense
house, which served as refuge for the future pensioners. It is true that
the religious chapters, who had to bear a share in the expense, showed a
great disinclination to pay; but Louvois, who had the matter in hand,
would by no means allow them to hang back, and in 1674 the veterans were
transferred to their new abode. One fine day in October the king drove
up to the institution in a magnificent carriage drawn by eight white
horses, and followed by numerous equipages. At two o’clock a parade of
the veterans began on the esplanade, where they marched three abreast.
Two soldiers, well-nigh centenarians, who had served at the battles of
Arques and of Ivry, headed the procession. On a subsequent occasion
Louis XIV. paid a second visit to the Invalides, accompanied by Madame
de Maintenon. As soon as his carriage entered the gate, several of the
veterans got in front of the body-guard forming the escort and kept them
back, saying that from the moment His Majesty entered the place he
should have no other guard than his old servants. Those who had defended
him on the battle-field could, they declared, look after him quite well
whenever he was pleased to come and visit them. A lively altercation
took place on this point, and attracted the attention of the king, who,
informed of what had occurred, ordered the captain of his guards to
withdraw outside the building, adding that in future whenever he visited
the place he would confide his person to his dear old disabled soldiers.
[Illustration: DORMER WINDOW ON THE FAÇADE, HÔTEL DES INVALIDES.]
[Illustration: DORMER WINDOW ON THE FAÇADE, HÔTEL DES INVALIDES.]
Just as the illustrious visitors were going away, one pensioner who was
minus a limb or two approached Madame de Maintenon and presented to her
a plate bearing a piece of the regulation bread surrounded with flowers.
“Permit me, madam,” he said, “to beg you to taste the bread we are fed
with.” The court ladies present took a bite at it and complained of it
to the king, who severely reprimanded the chief official of the
establishment, and ordered him to supply bread of better quality.
[Illustration: THE COURT OF HONOUR, HÔTEL DES INVALIDES.]
The building, meanwhile, was not large enough to accommodate all the
pensioners who had found refuge in the different religious retreats. The
least infirm, therefore, had to yield precedence to their comrades, and
Louvois ordered that forty companies should be despatched to
Montreuil-sur-Mer, others being sent to Havre, Abbeville, and other
fortified towns. Louvois died in 1691, much lamented by the pensioners.
[Illustration: INVALIDES.]
In 1714 the king made a last and lengthy visit to the Invalides. In his
will he commended the establishment to the particular care of his
successors. “The foundation of the Invalides,” says M. Monnier, “is
perhaps the one act of Louis XIV. which has remained popular.” In 1716
Peter the Great visited the Hôtel des Invalides, made a detailed
inspection of it, and tasted the water drunk within its walls. On his
return to Russia he founded an Hôtel des Invalides at St. Petersburg.
To skip over a somewhat uneventful period to the Revolution, the home of
the pensioners was on the 14th of July, 1789, seized, without
resistance, by the mob, who took possession of all the guns and carried
them off.
The Constituent Assembly, despite the opposition of its military
committee, maintained the Hôtel des Invalides. The Convention placed it
under the special surveillance of the Legislative Body and, in some
particulars, ameliorated the lot of the pensioners and their families.
As for Napoleon, whether as First Consul or as Emperor, he took a great
interest in the Invalides, whose population he did not allow to
diminish; and the same solicitude has been displayed by the more pacific
governments which have succeeded him.
Ever since the building was first inhabited, the pensioners--old,
indeed, but still gay of heart--have from time to time amused themselves
at the expense of their sometimes too curious visitors. Chief amongst
the jokes played upon such persons must be mentioned the
popularly-reported one of the “invalid with the wooden head.” This
traditional joke dates from almost the foundation of the institution,
and a manuscript in the library of the arsenal speaks of it in these
terms:--
[Illustration: TOMB OF NAPOLEON]
“As people of all kinds come to visit the house, certain playful
soldiers have invented a method of mystification for those whom it is
easy to take in, and to whom they give information as to whatever
sights of curiosity or interest the place contains. They recommend them
above all not to quit the place without having seen the invalid with the
wooden head. When the proposition is assented to, they indicate his
corridor and his room, and, as their comrades are in the conspiracy,
they make their victims perform sundry journeys through different parts
of the establishment in quest of a wooden head, which they might really
behold if they looked at themselves in the glass. They are sent from
floor to floor and from room to room by their tormentors, who invent all
kinds of explanations for his absence, such as:--‘He was here a moment
ago; he has gone no doubt to get shaved, and will be back directly. Pray
take a seat.’”
Unprovided, however, as the pensioners are with wooden heads, many of
them, by their various forms of mutilation, afford a sufficiently
curious spectacle to the crowd. Those veterans who have lost the use of
both hands are termed “Manicros.” They have to be specially waited upon
by their comrades, and as it is necessary to remunerate the latter for
their services, a fund for the purpose has been established. There is a
special table for those who, having been wounded in the jaw, cannot
masticate their food. Easily digestible hashes, soups, etc., are
prepared for them by the “sisters”; and their table is furnished with no
niggardly regard for expense.
The death of Louis XIV. was keenly regretted by the pensioners, who sent
representatives to his funeral clad in deepest mourning. The death of
Louis XV., who was more beloved by his people generally, caused little
sorrow at the Invalides, the pensioners viewing the funeral cortège, as
it passed along, with frigid eye.
Coming to Napoleon, we find him conferring honour upon the Invalides by
celebrating there the anniversary of the taking of the Bastille. He
wished, moreover, on this solemn occasion, to consolidate the growing
institution of the Legion of Honour. A salute of several cannons from
within the precincts announced the emperor’s arrival. He took his seat
upon a throne. Behind him were ranged the colonels-general of the guard,
the governor, and the great officers of the crown. Meanwhile the
empress, accompanied by the princesses, her sisters, and her maids of
honour, had been received by the grand master of the ceremonies, who had
led her to his tribune.
The cardinal legate, who was to officiate, took up his position beneath
a daïs to the right of the altar, the cardinal archbishop of Paris and
his clergy placing themselves on the left. Behind the high altar, on an
immense amphitheatre, seven hundred invalids and two hundred pupils of
the Polytechnic School were already stationed, while the nave contained
the great officers and the members of the Legion of Honour.
When the cardinal legate had celebrated divine service the grand
chancellor was conducted to the foot of the throne, proclaimed the
object of the institution of the Legion of Honour, and enumerated the
duties which were incumbent upon its members. This discourse at an end,
Napoleon received the oaths of each member. The decorations were borne
in basins of gold, and the first one was conferred upon the emperor
himself, by the hand of his brother, Prince Louis, future king of
Holland.
The most remarkable member of the Legion of Honour who ever dwelt in the
Hôtel des Invalides was a widow named Brulon, who, in times past,
disguised in male uniform, had seen no end of military service,
fighting, sometimes by her husband’s side, with distinguished valour.
She had been through seven campaigns, and bore the marks of three very
decided wounds. Entering the ranks in 1811, she became a corporal the
following year, a sub-lieutenant by royal mandate in 1822, and a member
of the Legion of Honour in 1847. She died in 1848, deeply lamented by
all who knew her, none of whom had ever seen her in feminine attire.
The Invalides pensioner, although, as we have seen, he will sometimes
have his joke, is, as a rule, a morose old grumbler. His tendencies are
those of a recluse. Although by the rules of the hotel he has to live,
eat, drink, and sleep in common with his fellow pensioners, he keeps
himself aloof, seldom seeks society, and is the reverse of
communicative, “garrulous old age” being a phrase hardly applicable to
one who, placed amongst men with the same experiences as himself, does
not find them such appreciative and inspiring auditors as persons from
the world outside. His friendships, in fact, are nearly always formed
with civilians, though the decree which forbade the excursion of
pensioners beyond the precincts of the hotel has reduced the number and
intimacy of these friendships very considerably. A second decree, issued
by the Minister of War, prohibited pensioners from performing any work
in public places. Previously they had been employed to guard civic
monuments, and to assist at constructions and demolitions; but it was
found that the money they so earned was too often spent in a manner
which neither morality nor good taste could sanction.
The grounds in front of the hotel contain a large flower-bed, beyond
which are a number of small gardens belonging to the pensioners, who
take a great pride in them, and adorn them with a beautiful display of
flowers. It is noticeable, however, that all the gardens are alike, a
grotto of shells, among other characteristic objects, belonging to each.
These little plots of ground, so gay with bloom in the summer, are the
delight of the children who come with their parents to visit some old
grandfather who has lost a limb or two in the defence of his country.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE TOMB OF NAPOLEON.]
The uncommunicativeness of the pensioner is attributed by M. Monnier to
his having nothing to communicate. “If you ask him for his
reminiscences,” says this admirable writer, “you will be astonished to
find that, much as he has seen, he has learned little and retained
little.” If, for instance, he is spoken to about Egypt, he declares that
he has found Egypt just like any other country. “What about the
inhabitants?” says the inquirer. “The same as any other inhabitants,” is
the reply. “But the costumes?” “What costumes?” “Their different
costumes. How are they dressed?” “Like us--they do not go naked.” “And
the pyramids--those monuments of another age--which rise heavenwards and
lose themselves in the clouds?” “Same thing as occurs here--at Boulogne
and Calais, by the sea shore.” The visitor gives this gentleman up and
passes to another, who has been to China, and who declares that the
habits of the Chinese are identical with those of the French. “But how
about their temples, their pagodas?” suggests the visitor. “Do you mean
their houses?” “Yes, the places where they live, and those where they
pray.” “Just like our own, with doors and windows--everything the same
as here.” It is fair to suppose that M. Monnier, who is nothing if not a
humourist, was so amused at the manner in which some few of the old
soldiers had gone through the world with their eyes shut that he found
the temptation to generalise this individual characteristic a trifle too
strong for him.
The first stone of the Hôtel des Invalides was laid on the 30th
November, 1670. Four years afterwards the place was ready for the
reception both of officers and men. The plans of the whole building,
with the exception of the dome, were drawn up by Libéral Bruant, who
directed the works until his death. His duties were then taken up by
Mansard, who made no change in his predecessor’s design, though he
proposed the addition of a dome for which he submitted plans, and which
was in due time constructed.
The Hôtel des Invalides stands in view of the Seine, at the extremity of
a large esplanade planted with trees. In the middle of this esplanade
there used to be a fountain which, under the First Empire, surmounted
the lion of St. Mark, transported from Venice. Retaken in 1814 by the
Austrians, the lion was replaced by an enormous fleur-de-lis, for which
the Revolution of July substituted a bust of La Fayette. Bust and
fountain have both disappeared.
On the Esplanade side of the Invalides are ranged a number of cannons,
forming what is called the “triumphal battery,” which sends forth a peal
of thunder on the occasion of some victory or state ceremony. The pieces
are served by the pensioned artillerymen. The “triumphal battery” is
particularly interesting from being largely composed of all kinds of
foreign guns--Austrian, Prussian, Russian, Dutch, Venetian, Algerian,
and Chinese, many of them taken in action.
Behind the “triumphal battery,” screened off by a sort of stone bastion,
are the little gardens cultivated by the pensioners. Farther back is the
principal façade of the hotel, three storeys high, and more than 200
metres wide, surmounted by a row of attics, and pierced with 133
windows. Projecting from the façade is a forepart enclosing a large
arcade, of which the tympan represents Louis XIV. on horseback,
accompanied by Justice and Prudence, two divinities to whom he did not
always lend an ear. This group, the work of Couston, was maltreated by
the Revolution, but restored by Cartellier. On the two sides of the
entrance are the statues of Mars and Minerva, likewise by Couston. At
the angles formed by the forepart and the façade are pedestals
supporting four figures, in bronze, of chained nations, humbling
themselves at the feet of the statue raised to Louis XIV. by Marshal de
la Feuillade on the Place des Victoires and overthrown in 1792. These
figures are executed by Desjardins.
An adequate description of the interior of the Invalides would fill a
small volume. Remarkable by its architecture, it is interesting by the
military relics and trophies preserved in it. A subterranean crypt,
beneath the celebrated “dome,” contains the tomb of Napoleon, whose
remains were conveyed thither from St. Helena.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: LATUDE RECOGNISES D’ALIGRE AT CHARENTON. (_See p.
216._)]
[Illustration: THE LAËNNEC HOSPITAL, RUE DE SÈVRES.]