The name Saint-Cloud involuntarily carries us back to one of the most
agitated epochs of our history and recalls a scene of savage violence.
Clodowald, son of Clodomir, King of Orleans, saw his two brothers
assassinated before his eyes: the executioners were his two uncles.
The cruel spectacle was never effaced from his memory. Clodowald
himself cut off his long hair, the emblem of his illustrious origin,
preferring the humility of the cloister to the splendour of a crown.
His pious self-abnegation received its reward even in this world. The
village of Nogent took the name of its patron who was included in the
list of saints: history has connected the name of Saint-Cloud with
events that fill the universe. Here Henri III. fell beneath the blade
of an assassin, and with him the Valois branch ended. Here suddenly
died, not without suspicions of poison, the witty and brilliant
Henrietta of England, wife of Louis the Fourteenth’s brother. In this
same spot Marie Antoinette was preparing the most charming of royal
residences when the Revolution came to drag her to the scaffold. Here
the Revolution of Brumaire XVIII. overturned the French republic. In
1815, the foreigners, with Wellington and Blücher at their head, are
at Saint-Cloud, where the capitulation of Paris is signed on July
3d. Here, on July 28th, 1830, Charles X. signs the fatal orders which
are immediately followed by a new revolution. This prince leaves
Saint-Cloud on July 30th, at 3 A. M., to go into exile where
he is to find his tomb.
The purity of the air, the abundance of water, the freshness of
the landscape and the beauty of the banks of the Seine have always
attracted the dwellers of Paris to Saint-Cloud. Nobles of the court,
members of the parliament and men of finance built elegant country
houses here. The masses, following a tradition which has not yet
disappeared, went out there to take breath at liberty, to stroll about
in the shade and to play their gambols.
It must be confessed that at the gates of Paris one could not find
a more agreeable promenade nor a more attractive dwelling-place.
Consequently, at the period of our internecine wars, the possession
of it was bitterly wanted. In 1346 Saint-Cloud was revisited by the
English, and its inhabitants were so fortunate as to drive them off.
But in 1358, after the fatal battle of Poitiers, the English took
the place and pillaged and reduced it to ashes without sparing the
pleasure-houses established in the vicinity. Under the reign of the
unfortunate Charles VI., the Armagnacs and Bourguignons alternately
fell upon the village and ravaged the countryside. These multiplied
disasters were promptly repaired and the hills of Saint-Cloud again
adorned themselves with elegant abodes framed in verdure.
[Illustration: THE PALACE OF SAINT-CLOUD, FRANCE.]
The house that served as the kernel of the royal castle of Saint-Cloud
first belonged to Jérôme Gonde. He was an Italian who came to
France in the suite of Catherine de’ Medici. Like several of his
fellow-countrymen, he succeeded in amassing a considerable fortune
here. More fortunate than some of them, he kept in favour with the
Queen Mother. It was in this house, August 1st, 1589, that Henri III.
was assassinated by Jacques Clément. Devoted servants saluted Henri
IV. as King of France: he was at Saint-Cloud in the Tillet house. This
house, the witness of the accession to the throne of the Bourbon line,
has since disappeared: its site is marked in the gardens of the castle
by the Tillet alley.
The grandson of Henri IV., so passionate for the grandeur of his house,
bought Saint-Cloud for Philip of Orleans, his brother, generally
called _Monsieur_. Various acquisitions were successively made to
complete this beautiful demesne: the castle was rebuilt by Lepautre,
and the gardens laid out by Le Nôtre. Saint-Cloud for a long time
remained the favourite residence of the Dukes of Orleans. Henrietta
of England with her gay spirit, her beautiful manners, her love of
_fêtes_, her taste for pomp, her engaging character, her discreet
advances, and the friendship shown for her by her brother-in-law,
rendered it the most elegant abode, the centre of the most select
gatherings, and the palace of decent and delicate pleasures.
Alas! these brilliant entertainments of fashion were very soon to
be interrupted by a terrible blow which fell suddenly like a clap
of thunder. Henrietta returned from England whither she had been,
charged by Louis XIV. with the negotiation of a secret treaty with
her brother, Charles II. Arriving in the beginning of June, 1670,
she was quietly resting at Saint-Cloud, when, on the twenty-ninth of
the same month, suddenly in the castle in the middle of the night the
terrible cry was heard: “Madame is dying!” and, eight hours later:
“Madame is dead!” This princess was twenty-six years old. The disease
declared itself by frightful agony the moment after drinking a glass
of chicory water. At first she declared that she had been poisoned;
if she retracted this afterwards, it was under the apprehension of
the terrible consequences that a false declaration might entail. Her
suspicions have been shared by historians, who briefly add that Louis
XIV. was happy to learn that his brother was innocent of this crime.
Monsieur showed his grief by grand funeral ceremonies. What makes the
memory of these obsequies notable is the funeral oration delivered by
Bossuet. It is one of the masterpieces of pulpit eloquence.
The tears, feigned or genuine, were scarcely dry before they began to
think of filling the place left empty by death. The King made overtures
on this subject to Mademoiselle, daughter of Gaston of Orleans, the
brother of Louis XIII.; but this princess at that time was occupied
with a project that became the torment of her life; she wanted to marry
the Comte de Lauzun.
Four months after the death of the gentle and witty Henrietta of
England, Monsieur married the Princess Palatine, the daughter of the
Elector Palatine. A robust German with strongly marked features, an
enemy to ceremony, detesting entertainments on account of impatience
with constraint, holding the toilette in aversion because it
interfered with her usual habits, the Princess Palatine formed a
complete contrast to the lively and delicate Henrietta. She abjured
Lutheranism on the eve of her marriage. From this we may judge of
the changes that followed at first in the customs of the castle of
Saint-Cloud. But they did not last long. Philip of Orleans loved to
hold a court and he was anxious to see it constantly filled with
people who could amuse themselves. High play occurred there and many
ladies came, who, says Saint Simon, “would scarcely have been received
elsewhere.” At Saint-Cloud, as at the Palais Royale, there was an
uninterrupted succession of entertainments. Madame often sulked at the
company. She spent the greatest part of the day in her cabinet. Her
husband allowed her every liberty and freely used his own, without
concerning himself about her in any way.
In 1701, Philip of Orleans, the King’s brother, died at Saint-Cloud.
The Princess Palatine also breathed her last gasp there. This
magnificent residence continued to be occupied with the same
sumptuousness and luxury by the new owners; these were the Duke of
Chartres who, on his father’s death, took the title of Duke of Orleans,
and his wife, Mlle. de Blois, daughter of Louis XIV. This princess
wanted to hold a court there that would do sufficient honour to the
first prince of the blood. The King approved, provided that she took
care to gather together a distinguished company free from the confused
and objectionable mixture that had defiled the society of the late
Duke of Orleans. The beginnings of this new court were admirable.
Families of the best positions in the realm crowded into the receptions
at Saint-Cloud. The drawing-rooms and gardens were filled with
personages belonging to the most illustrious houses. Since Louis XIV.
was old and Versailles did not always afford much pleasure, the young
generation gladly turned to Saint-Cloud where politeness, liberality,
magnificence, fine manners and an amiable freedom attracted and held
everybody.
In 1752, Louis Philippe of Orleans, grandson of the Regent, gave a
splendid _fête_ at Saint-Cloud, a detailed description of which
was given by the writers of the time with great gusto. It was remarked
that the populace was admitted to take part in it. This remark, which
was dwelt on with a kind of affectation, shows the influence of new
ideas. In 1759, this prince lost his wife, Louise Henriette de Bourbon
Conti, and in 1773 he secretly married the Marquise de Montesson.
The latter, desiring a modest abode, induced the Duke of Orleans to
sell the castle of Saint-Cloud. In 1785, this beautiful residence was
purchased by Queen Marie Antoinette for six millions. By the Queen’s
orders numerous changes were made. The new chapel was built at that
time, and on the site of the old one a staircase of honour was built,
leading to the grand apartments. Considerable additions were made
to the buildings by doubling two bodies of outbuildings. The works
were carried forward rapidly; but events were marching still faster;
they were not yet completed when the Revolution burst. The palace was
abandoned; the gardens were reserved for the pleasure of the citizens.
A great political event was soon to happen at Saint-Cloud. After
horrible and sterile agitation like that of a tempest, the Directory,
far from healing France of the excesses of anarchy, was impotent,
and its weakness, not less than the light conduct of the Directors,
caused it to fall into discredit. All was ready for a new revolution,
and it came on the 18th of Brumaire (Nov. 9th, 1799). The legislative
body had been transferred to the castle of Saint-Cloud. The victor of
Lodi and Arcola, having recently returned from Egypt, was ripe for
new destinies. Surrounded by a crowd of superior officers determined
to put an end to the _government of lawyers_, it was necessary
to act. So he went to Saint-Cloud after having taken his measures in
Paris.... At the sight of the grenadiers advancing with fixed bayonets,
the terrified members of the council dispersed in flight through the
passages, or jumping out of the windows. A new era was about to open;
Napoleon Bonaparte is nominated First Consul, Consul for ten years,
Consul for life, and lastly, Emperor.
From the year 1800, the royal residences had been placed at the
disposal of the new representative of sovereign authority in France,
and he chose the castle of Saint-Cloud for his summer residence. It was
here that he received the decree that proclaimed him Emperor of the
French. Napoleon often came here for repose after his victories. Here,
in quiet, he planned new conquests, and more especially he elaborated
those regulations of public administration that, together with the code
that bears his name, perhaps constitute his best title to glory in the
eyes of posterity.
In 1810, on April 1st, the marriage of Napoleon with Marie Louise was
celebrated in the chapel of Saint-Cloud. The castle and gardens then
witnessed rejoicings that seemed as if they could never be saddened by
any cloud. In 1815, alas! the scene has greatly changed. Saint Cloud
is invaded by a horde of foreigners. The conqueror wants to dishonour
the palace of the hero whom Fortune has betrayed. Troops are encamped
in the gardens; horses are watered in the park fountains. Nothing is
respected, not even the private chamber of the Empress. A pack of
hounds is put there; the furniture is soiled and torn books litter the
floor. A soldier sleeps in his uniform in Napoleon’s bed and amuses
himself with tearing the imperial draperies with his spurs. Those were
days of mourning for Saint-Cloud and for France! The capitulation of
Paris was signed at Saint-Cloud, July 3d, 1813.
Fifteen years later, also in the month of July, another revolution
chased Charles X. from Saint-Cloud. It was here that that prince signed
the orders of July 24, 1830. Six days later, the royal family of
Bourbon was on the road of exile! The government of the Restoration had
various embellishments done to the palace and gardens of Saint-Cloud.
We owe to Charles X. the construction of the building for the
accommodation of the servants of his establishment, as well as a fine
barracks, situated in the gardens of the lower park, for his bodyguard.
Louis Philippe did not forget Saint-Cloud which recalled youthful
memories. The apartments were renovated and richly furnished, and new
distributions still further improved this beautiful residence.
Notwithstanding the considerable works undertaken at different periods,
it was easy to recognize the modern works from the ancient parts. The
front on the court of honour was executed after the plans of Gerard;
the two pavilions were by the architect Lepautre. The apartments of
Napoleon III. and the Empress were situated on the first story in the
left wing. Queen Marie Antoinette, the Empress Marie Louise and the
Duchess of Angoulême occupied this part of the castle. The Apollo
Gallery, inaugurated by a splendid _fête_ given by Philip of
Orleans to his brother, Louis XIV., was on the first story of the right
wing. Under the Directory, this gallery was used for the sittings of
the council of the _Anciens_. The emperor’s vestibule was in the
centre of the façade, with the staircase built on the site of the old
chapel. The internal decoration of the palace was of the greatest
magnificence; the paintings on the ceilings were by illustrious
artists, and the furniture, renewed several times, was of rare elegance
and dazzling richness.
The heir of Napoleon I. was soon to reappear there: it was at
Saint-Cloud, Dec. 2, 1852, that the Empire was restored.
The palace of Saint-Cloud was burnt during the siege of Paris by the
German army in 1870–1871.