BELL’S HANDBOOKS TO
CONTINENTAL CHURCHES
NOTRE DAME DE PARIS
[Illustration: NOTRE DAME AND THE PONT DE L’ARCHEVÊQUE.
(_From an etching by C. Méryon._)]
NOTRE DAME DE PARIS
A SHORT HISTORY & DESCRIPTION
OF THE CATHEDRAL, WITH SOME
ACCOUNT OF THE CHURCHES
WHICH PRECEDED IT
BY
CHARLES HIATT
AUTHOR OF
“CHESTER CATHEDRAL,” “BEVERLEY MINSTER,”
“WESTMINSTER ABBEY,” ETC., ETC.
WITH FORTY-ONE ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS 1902
PREFACE
The task of writing an account of the cathedral of Notre Dame is
materially lightened by the minute details of its history and
architecture to be found in the various writings of M. Viollet-le-Duc,
of which, unfortunately, the Library of the British Museum does not
contain a complete set. The _Description de Notre Dame_, published
in 1856 by M. de Guilhermy in conjunction with M. Viollet-le-Duc,
contains much useful material, while the splendidly illustrated account
of the church in the first volume of _Paris à travers les Ages_
is full of interesting archæological particulars. As the numerous
other authorities which have been used are quoted in the text, it is
unnecessary to enumerate them here. The writer has found Mr. Charles
Herbert Moore’s _Development of Gothic Architecture_ useful in not a
few difficult matters. He wishes specially to thank Mr. Edward Bell for
valuable suggestions on many important points.
CHARLES HIATT.
CHELSEA,
_October, 1902_.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE CATHEDRAL 3
II. THE PLACE OF NOTRE DAME IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF
FRENCH GOTHIC 19
III. THE EXTERIOR 27
IV. THE INTERIOR.--THE NAVE 55
V. THE TRANSEPTS AND THE CHOIR 71
VI. CONCLUSION.--THE SACRISTY, ETC. 94
VII. LIST OF THE BISHOPS AND ARCHBISHOPS OF PARIS 98
INDEX 103
GROUND PLAN AT END
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Notre Dame and the Pont de l’Archevêque _Frontispiece_
Notre Dame from the South 2
Notre Dame from the Quai St. Bernard 3
Queen Marie Antoinette returning Thanks 11
The Chevet 18
Section of Nave and Double Aisle 21
North Aisles of the Nave 23
The West Front 26
Chimères 27
String-course on the West Front 29
Carved Foliage, Portail de la Vierge 30
Portail de la Sainte-Vierge 31
Figure of St. Marcel 33
Sculpture of the Last Judgement 34
Tympanum of the Porte Sainte Anne 35
Apostles--Central Doorway 36
Figures--Porte Sainte Anne 37
Chimères 38
” 39
Le Stryge, after Méryon 41
The Roof-ridge of Notre Dame, by J. Pennell 43
The Original Flèche 44
Clocheton 45
Windows of the South Aisle 46
Triforium Windows 47
The North Transept Front 49
Tympanum, North Transept 52
The Interior from the West End 54
The Nave: South Arcade 58
Capital in the Nave 59
The Nave: North Arcade 61
The Triforium Gallery 63
Elevations of the Nave 65
Angle of the Choir and South Transept 70
The North Transept 73
View of the Choir at the End of the Thirteenth Century 80
Grille at Entrance of Choir 82
The Choir, looking West 83
The Choir from the South Transept 87
The Place du Parvis in 1650 94
Notre Dame in the Thirteenth Century, with the Bishop’s Palace 98
[Illustration: _Photo_] [_Ed. Hautecœur, Paris._
NOTRE DAME FROM THE SOUTH.]
[Illustration: NOTRE DAME FROM THE QUAI ST. BERNARD.]
NOTRE DAME DE PARIS.
CHAPTER I.
A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE CATHEDRAL.
No city of the modern world has seen such amazing changes as the French
metropolis. In the eyes of many persons, from every downfall Paris has
arisen more incontestably splendid. But not to all is the Paris of
Baron Hausmann lovelier than the city which preceded it. For instance,
M. Joris-Karl Huysmans, the author at once modern and mystical of
_A Rebours_ and _La Cathédrale_, bitterly regrets the disappearance
of those ancient and brooding byways which lent to the Paris of his
youth a curious charm which has now almost disappeared. The Paris of
magnificent vistas is at least less fascinating to the artist than the
comparatively provincial city of crooked lanes which has gone to make
way for a series of lofty and pretentious street fronts and spacious
squares.
Strange it is that, where so much has been changed, the cathedral
church of Notre Dame has remained almost unaltered in outline and
general effect. Revolutions have surged round it; monstrous rites have
been perpetrated within it; even the hail of shot and shell have left
this wonderful Gothic creation poorer only in decorative detail. There
is a certain fascination in the grimness of this mysterious building
in _la ville lumière_, and I am disposed to agree with Mr. Richard
Whiteing that it symbolises the underlying sadness, as opposed to
the superficial gaiety of the Parisian. Thousands of French churches
are dedicated to Notre Dame: even in Paris itself we have Notre Dame
de l’Assomption, Notre Dame de l’Abbaye aux Bois, Notre Dame des
Blancs-Manteaux, Notre Dame des Champs, Notre Dame de Lorette, and
Notre Dame des Victoires. But still when we speak of Notre Dame we
allude instinctively to that vast edifice which frowns over the slow
and winding Seine. The cathedral church of Notre Dame is almost as
closely connected with the history of the French people as is the Abbey
of Westminster with that of the English. And indeed the gray-white
building whose foundations are nearly washed by the waters of the Seine
has seen pageants more superb, and tragedies more luridly dramatic,
than our own proud Minster of the West. Although it can boast no such
marvellous continuity of vital historic episodes, Notre Dame is the one
building in the French metropolis which seems to stand as a symbol for
the whole city in all its memorable phases: with it may not be compared
the bragging grandeur of the Arc de Triomphe, the extensive splendour
of the Louvre, nor the rebuilt Hôtel de Ville. We do not forget the
exquisite beauties of La Sainte Chapelle, the strange fascination of
the resting-place of the Great Napoleon, nor the majesty of the once
royal church of Saint Denis. None of these, however, will bear serious
comparison with the great Metropolitan Cathedral of Paris. Notre Dame
has an almost unearthly power of asserting its existence. Neither in
full sunshine, nor in the twilight, nor when night has finally set in,
will it allow its majestic proportions to be overlooked. Mr. Henley
has finely spoken of “the high majesty of Paul’s,” but even our own
metropolitan cathedral, with its overwhelming dome, is scarcely more
predominant than Notre Dame.
The geographical position of the Cathedral of Paris is not unlike that
anciently possessed by Westminster Abbey, and by that crown of the
Fens, Ely Cathedral. We find that Notre Dame dominates an islet of
the Seine. At its east end is that tragical commentary on the life of
modern Paris, The Morgue. The late Mr. Grant Allen, with a cheerfulness
which we are far from sharing, noted that this triumphant example of
the best Gothic in the world has often been restored. We believe that
he was one of many intelligent persons who derive a real satisfaction
from the so-called “restoration” of an ancient work, of which no real
“restoration” is possible, though repair is an obvious duty.
The mediæval churches of western Europe nearly all claim a
pre-Christian origin. It is charming to the mind of a certain type
of antiquary to discover the origin of a Christian cathedral in the
wreck of a Roman temple. For Westminster Abbey and for St. Paul’s
Roman foundations have, with more or less accuracy, been described.
In the case of Notre Dame it is certain that the remains of an altar
of Jupiter were discovered in 1711, which would seem to indicate that
a pagan temple once stood on or near the site in the Gaulish city
of Lutetia Parisiorum. In point of fact, it is a matter of no small
difficulty to make out clearly the origin of Notre Dame, or to describe
with certainty the ecclesiastical buildings which in the dim past
occupied its site. A lady writer who has discussed the church with much
intelligence writes on this matter as follows:[1]
[Footnote 1: _The Churches of Paris_, by S. Sophia Beale: London, W. H.
Allen and Co., 1893.]
“The origin of Notre Dame is enveloped in mystery. Whether its first
bishop, St. Denis, or Dionysius, was the Areopagite converted by St.
Paul’s preaching at Athens, and sent by St. Clement to preach the
Gospel to the Parisians, or whether he was another personage of the
same name who was sent into Gaul in the third century and martyred
during the persecutions under Decius, it is impossible to say, as there
is no evidence of any value. Certain it is, however, that the first
bishop of Paris bore the name of Denis, and that he suffered martyrdom,
with his two companions Rusticus and Eleutherius, on the summit of the
hill now called Montmartre. Tradition went so far as to point out the
spot where they first gathered their followers together--the crypt of
Notre Dame des Champs; also the prison where our Lord appeared to
them and strengthened them with His Holy Body and Blood at St. Denis
de la Chartre; the place, at St. Denis du Pas, where they suffered
their first tortures; and lastly, Montmartre, where they were beheaded.
But, with the exception of the latter, all these holy spots have
disappeared. So, too, have the crosses which marked the route taken by
the Saint, when he carried his head to the place chosen for his burial,
at St. Denis. An ancient church covered the remains of the three saints
until the present splendid building was erected, in the reign of
Dagobert I. Under the Roman dominion, Paris was comprised in the fourth
Lyonnaise division, of which Sens was the metropolis. Hence the bishops
of Paris acknowledged the Archbishop of Sens as their primate until
1622, when, at the request of Louis XIII., Pope Gregory XV. raised
Paris to the see of an archbishopric. The succession has consisted of
one hundred and nine bishops and fifteen archbishops, eight of whom
have been raised to the dignity of Cardinal. Besides St. Denis six have
been venerated as Saints: Marcel, in the fifth century; Germain, in the
sixth century; Ceran, Landry, and Agilbert in the seventh, and Hugues
in the eighth century.”
We must leave this ancient and hazy story of saints and martyrs, and
return to the thorny question of the origin of the cathedral. From the
brief account of Notre Dame by Mr. A. J. C. Hare in his entertaining
volume on Paris, we glean that about the year 375 a church, dedicated
to St. Stephen (St. Etienne), was built on the islet under Prudentius,
eighth bishop of Paris. “In 528,” says Mr. Hare, “through the gratitude
of Childebert--‘_le nouveau Melchisedech_’--for his recovery from a
sickness by St. Germain, another far more rich and beautiful edifice
(dedicated to Sainte Marie--) arose by the side of the first church,
and was destined to become _ecclesia parisiaca_, the cathedral of
Paris. Childebert endowed it with three estates--at Chelles-en-Brie,
at La Celle near Monterau, and at La Celle near Fréjus--which last
supplied the oil for its sacred ordinances. The new church had not long
been finished when La Cité, in which the monks of S. Germain had taken
refuge with their treasures, was besieged by the Normans; but it was
successfully defended by Bishop Gozlin, who died during the siege. It
is believed that the substructions of this church were found during
recent excavations in the Parvis Notre Dame,[2] and architectural
fragments then discovered are now preserved at the Palais des Thermes.”
It may be taken for granted that Childebert’s church took the form of
a Roman basilica, and it is probable that Roman materials were used in
its construction. In 1847 further Roman remains were discovered on the
site which doubtless formed part of Childebert’s building. Some of them
are preserved at the Hôtel-Cluny.
[Footnote 2: The space to the west of the church was called _Parvis
paradisus_, the earthly paradise leading by the celestial Jerusalem.]
I am, however, inclined to agree with M. de Guilhermy and M.
Viollet-le-Duc,[3] that the story of the cathedral previous to the
episcopacy of Bishop Maurice de Sully (1160-96) is, if not absolutely
fictitious, at least merely conjectural.
[Footnote 3: See _Description de Notre-Dame, Cathédrale] de Paris_:
Paris, 1856. The main points of Viollet-le-Duc’s inventory of the
cathedral will be found in Queyron’s _Histoire et Description de
l’Eglise de Notre Dame_, Paris: E. Plon, Nourrit et C^{ie}.]
This prelate--generally counted as the sixty-second occupant of the
see--seems at first to have united the adjacent churches of St. Stephen
and St^{e} Marie on the Ile de la Cité, and then (without immediately
and totally destroying them) to have commenced a new one on the same
site, of which Pope Alexander III. laid the foundation-stone in 1163.
Rapid progress must have been made with the work, for it is certain
that in 1185 Heraclitus, patriarch of Jerusalem, officiated at the
altar, in front of which, in the year following, Geoffrey, Count of
Brittany, son of Henry II. of England, was buried. Maurice de Sully
provided for the continuation of the work after his death, which took
place in 1196. By his will he left five thousand _livres_ in order
that the choir might be roofed with lead. At this time, according to
Viollet-le-Duc, considerable progress must have been made with the
nave. Maurice de Sully was succeeded by Eudes de Sully (1197-1208), on
whose death the see was occupied, until 1219, by Pierre de Nemours.
Towards 1223 the west front was completed to the base of the great
gallery, and by 1235 the towers were left much as we see them to-day.
The spires, which it is generally admitted they were intended to carry,
were never added.
Between the years 1235 and 1240, a fire seems to have broken out at
Notre Dame. On this subject history is silent, but that it did serious
damage is maintained by Viollet-le-Duc on what appear to be sufficient
grounds. According to him, repair was made in haste, so that rose
windows, flying buttresses and other structural details were ruthlessly
sacrificed. The west front seems to have escaped mutilation. Up to 1245
the cathedral, vast as was its area, possessed either no chapels at
all, or chapels of inconsiderable dimensions. In that year, however,
the addition of new chapels was proceeded with. It would appear that,
shortly after, the plainness of the transept fronts in comparison with
the splendidly decorated west façade was acutely felt. In 1257, Jean
de Chelles was engaged on reconstructing the southern doorway. At this
time St. Louis was King of France, and Renaud de Corbeil bishop of
Paris. The northern door and the chapels next the transepts on either
side were altered immediately after the southern entrance. In 1351,
Jean Ravy and Jean de Bouteiller were engaged about the cathedral as
sculptors.
During the next three centuries Notre Dame escaped anything in the
nature of important change, destruction or addition; but in 1699 an
era of reckless mutilation began. Between the last-named date and 1753
the Cloister, the stalls of the sixteenth century, the old high altar,
many sepulchral monuments, and a vast quantity of stained glass were
destroyed. The work done in the names of “repair” and “beautification”
deprived the cathedral of mouldings, foliated capitals, gargoyles
and pinnacles. The damage inflicted by the architect Soufflot (who
designed the Panthéon) will be noticed later. Towards the end of Louis
XV.’s reign the church was refloored with squares of marble. The new
pavement involved the tearing up of a number of curious tombstones,
some of which covered the dust of men greatly distinguished in French
history. Between 1773 and 1787 minor alterations in the taste of the
time were made in various parts of the building, but further additions
were brought to an end by the outbreak of the Revolution. That any
sculpture of a religious or royal character was spared at Notre Dame
during that terrific upheaval seems to have been due to the eloquence
of Citoyen Chaumette and the influence of Citoyen Dupuis. Of the great
work of repair and addition performed by the architects Viollet-le-Duc
and Lassus, their assistants and successors, much will be said when we
consider the cathedral in detail.
We have already discussed the early story of Notre Dame, and noted the
vicissitudes through which the fabric has passed. I propose, before
concluding this introductory chapter, to state in the briefest possible
way the great historical events with which the cathedral is connected,
from the death, in 1196, of Maurice de Sully to the present time.
From the tenth century up to the end of the fifteenth century the
extraordinary _Fête des Fous_ was celebrated in Notre Dame. One of
the cathedral employés was elected _Evêque des Fous_, and, wearing
the actual vestments used in religious services, was honoured with
a great banquet accompanied with grotesque dances and songs. This
orgy took place in the church itself, and was so popular that it
flourished in spite of the most determined efforts to suppress it. A
similar custom was observed in La Sainte Chapelle. During the early
years of the thirteenth century the Dominican order was established.
St. Dominic himself preached once at least in Notre Dame. During his
prayer before the sermon, the Virgin is said to have appeared to him
in a cloud of light and to have given to him a book containing the
subject-matter of his discourse. Raymond VII., Count of Toulouse,
underwent the discipline of the lash for heresy before the door of the
cathedral in 1229. This spot was for centuries occupied by a pillory.
From 1220 onwards a series of disputes took place between the officials
of the church and the university. During the long reign of St. Louis,
which ended in 1271, the power of the bishop and chapter of Paris
had increased enormously, and a host of vassals did homage to Bishop
Etienne II. for their lands. The body of St. Louis was laid in state
in Notre Dame previous to its burial at St. Denis. This custom was
followed in the case of many other French monarchs and princes of the
blood.
On April 10th, 1302, Philippe-le-Bel held the first meeting of the
States-general in the cathedral. In the month of June, 1389, Isabeau
de Bavière made a solemn entry into Paris. Froissart tells us that:
“Devant ladite église de Notre-Dame, en la place, l’évêque de Paris
étoit revêtu des armes de Notre-Seigneur et tout le collège. Aussi on
moult avoit grand clergé et la descendit la royne et la mirent hors de
sa litière les quatre ducs qui là estoyent, Berry, Bourgogne, Touraine
et Bourbon.... La royne de France fut adestrée et menée parmy l’église
et le chœur jusqu’au grand autel et la se mit à genoux et fit ses
oraisons ainsi que bon lui sembla, et bailla et offrit à la trésorerie
de Notre-Dame quatre draps d’or et la belle couronne que les anges lui
avoient posée sur la porte de Paris.”
A great thanksgiving service was held when Charles VI. had been saved
from burning. The King, it may be recalled, was dressed as a satyr at
a palace fête with five companions. The Duke of Orleans was curious as
to the identity of the disguised, and approached them with a torch,
which accidentally set their clothing alight. The King was saved by
the Duchess de Berri, who threw a cloak over him, but four of his
companions were burned to death.
We must now turn to the time of Henry V. of England, who, after
Agincourt, became Regent of France with the right of succession to
the throne. After his marriage with Catherine, daughter of Charles
VI., in 1420, he paid a solemn state visit to Notre Dame. On Henry’s
death his son, afterwards Henry VI., was crowned King of France in the
cathedral. When the English were driven from Rouen, a great service of
thanksgiving was held to celebrate the entry of Charles VII. into the
Norman capital.
[Illustration: QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE RETURNING THANKS FOR
THE BIRTH OF A DAUPHIN, JANUARY 21ST, 1782.
(_From “Paris à travers les Ages.”_)]
“In the annals of Notre Dame,” says Mr. W. F. Lonergan in his _Historic
Churches of Paris_, “from the days of Louis XI., the rebellious dauphin
who succeeded his father, Charles VII., to the reign of the fourteenth
Louis, there is chiefly a long record of _Te Deums_ after the victories
of the French army. Historic Rheims, where Clovis had been baptized
by S. Remi in 496, was the favoured city of the Merovingians, who
had accorded it great privileges.” Amongst these was the right of
crowning and consecrating the Kings of France. Save Henri Quatre and
Louis XVIII., all of them were crowned at Rheims; but it was the
custom of the newly made sovereigns to go in state to Notre Dame at
Paris to return thanks for their advent to the throne. Amongst the
most interesting of the historic events which took place in, or were
magnificently celebrated at Notre Dame, were the following: the French
victory over the Venetians at Agnadel or, as the Italians call it,
Vaila, in 1509; the marriage of Louis XII. with Mary, sister of Henry
VIII. of England; the victories of Francis I.; and the marriage of
Mary Stuart with the Dauphin. The marriage of Henri, King of Navarre,
with Marguerite de Valois, took place at the entrance to the cathedral,
as the King was a Protestant. In 1590 the Catholic nobles swore at
the altar of Notre Dame to fight this same Henri to the bitter end.
In 1593, however, he became a Catholic, and attended mass at the
cathedral on the occasion of his accession to the throne as the first
monarch of the Bourbon line. The metropolitan see was raised to the
dignity of an archbishopric by Pope Gregory XV. in 1622. In 1682, under
Louis XIV., the great bell or _bourdon_ of the church was christened
Emmanuel Louis Thérèse, the King and Queen being the sponsors. Later
on, in 1699, the great changes in the church, undertaken in fulfilment
of the vow of Louis XIII., were begun. The first stone of the new
altar was laid by the Archbishop with the utmost pomp. The foundation
slab was inscribed: “Louis the Great--son of Louis the Just--after
he had suppressed heresy, established the true faith in his kingdom,
terminated gloriously wars by land and sea, wishing to accomplish the
vow of his father, built this altar in the cathedral church of Paris,
dedicating it to the God of Arms, Master of Peace and Victory, under
the invocation of the Virgin, patron and protector of his State,
A.D. 1699.” During the reign of the “Grand Monarque,” _Te
Deums_ were even more frequent than before.
We come at length to the part played by the cathedral during the
Revolution. We need say nothing of the fate of the fabric itself,
for that has already been alluded to. Its escape is little short of
marvellous. The result of the sack of the treasuries of the churches
of Paris is best told in Carlyle’s vivid translation of Mercier:
“This, accordingly, is what the streets of Paris saw: Most of these
persons were still drunk, with the brandy they had swallowed out of
chalices;--eating mackerel on the patenas! Mounted on Asses, which were
housed with Priests’ cloaks, they reined them with Priests’ stoles;
they held clutched with the same hand communion-cup and sacred wafer.
They stopped at the doors of Dramshops; held out ciboriums: and the
landlord, stoup in hand, had to fill them thrice. Next came Mules
high laden with crosses, chandeliers, censers, holy-water vessels,
hyssops;--recalling to mind the Priests of Cybele, whose panniers,
filled with the instruments of their worship, served at once as
storehouse, sacristy and temple.” On November 10th, 1793, the Cult of
Reason was decreed by the Convention, and Notre Dame converted into
the temple of the new religion. To quote Carlyle again: “For the same
day, while this brave Carmagnole-dance has hardly jigged itself out,
there arrive Procureur Chaumette and Municipals and Departmentals,
and with them the strangest freightage: a New Religion! Demoiselle
Candeille, of the Opera; a woman fair to look upon, when well rouged;
she borne on palanquin shoulder high; with red woollen nightcap; in
azure mantle; garlanded with oak; holding in her hand the Pike of
the Jupiter-_Peuple_, sails in: heralded by white young women girt
in tricolor. Let the world consider it! This, O National Convention,
wonder of the universe, is our New Divinity; _Goddess of Reason_,
worthy, and alone worthy of revering. Her henceforth we adore. Nay,
were it too much of an august National Representation that it also
went with us to the _ci-devant_ Cathedral called of Notre Dame, and
executed a few strophes in worship of her?... And now after due pause
and flourishes of oratory, the Convention, gathering its limbs, does
get under way in the required procession towards Notre Dame;--Reason,
again in her litter, sitting in the van of them, borne, as one judges,
by men in the Roman costume; escorted by wind-music, red nightcaps, and
the madness of the world. And so, straightway, Reason taking seat on
the high-altar of Notre Dame, the requisite worship or quasi-worship
is, say the Newspapers, _executed_; National Convention chanting ‘the
_Hymn to Liberty_, words by Chénier, music by Gossec.’ It is the
first of the _Feasts of Reason_; first communion-service of the New
Religion of Chaumette.” The real heroine of this orgy was probably an
opera dancer called Maillard. ‘Demoiselle Candeille’ was an actress
and writer of some repute, who strenuously denied that she ever had
anything to do with the Feast of Reason. An imitation “mountain” was
erected in the nave for the “fête,” on which was built a Gothic temple
inscribed _A la Philosophie_. Around were busts of famous philosophers,
and below an altar surmounted with the so-called Torch of Truth. The
goddess sat on the hill, hymns were sung in her honour and vows of
fidelity to her were taken. In 1794 the church was used as a bonded
store for the wine seized in the cellars of guillotined or outlawed
Royalists. The month of May in the same year saw the “Temple of Reason”
turned into that of the “Supreme Being,” for Robespierre persuaded the
Convention to sign a decree recognising “the consoling principle of
the Immortality of the Soul.” In 1795 Christian worship was once more
restored at Notre Dame. Nothing of great importance happened to the
church until the star of Napoleon rose--until, indeed, the first Consul
had become Emperor.
Of all the magnificent ceremonies of which Notre Dame has been the
scene, the most splendid was the joint coronation of Napoleon and
Josephine in the winter of 1804. A full account of it will be found
in the _Mémoires de la Duchesse d’Abrantès_, of which I quote a part,
purposely leaving it in the original French, as any translation would
be comparatively colourless and unpicturesque: “Le pape arriva le
premier. Au moment où il entra dans la basilique, le clergé entonna
_Tu es Petrus_, etc.; et ce chant grave et religieux fit une profonde
impression sur les assistants. Pie VII. avançait du fond de cette
église, avec un air à la fois majestueux et humble.... L’instant qui
réunit peut-être le plus de regards sur les marches de l’autel, fut
celui où Joséphine reçut de l’empereur la couronne et fut sacrée
solennellement impératrice des Français. Lorsqu’il fut temps pour elle
de paraître activement dans le grand drame, l’impératrice descendit
du trône et s’avança vers l’autel, où l’attendait l’empereur, suivie
de ses dames du palais et de tout son service d’honneur, et ayant
son manteau porté par la princesse Caroline, la princesse Julie,
la princesse Elisa et la princesse Louis.... Je vis tout ce que je
viens de dire dans les yeux de Napoléon. Il jouissait en regardant
l’impératrice s’avancer vers lui; et lorsqu’elle s’agenouilla ...
lorsque les larmes qu’elle ne pouvait retenir, roulèrent sur ses mains
jointes qu’elle élevait bien plus vers lui que vers Dieu, dans ce
moment où Napoléon, ou plutôt _Bonaparte_, était pour elle sa véritable
providence, alors il y eut entre ces deux êtres une de ces minutes
fugitives, unique dans toute une vie, et qui comblent le vide de bien
des années. L’empereur mit une grâce parfaite à la moindre des actions
qu’il devait faire pour accomplir la cérémonie. Mais ce fut surtout
lorsqu’il s’agit de couronner l’impératrice. Cette action devait être
accompli par l’empereur, qui, après avoir reçu la petite couronne
fermée et surmontée de la croix, qu’il fallait placer sur la tête de
Joséphine, devait la poser sur sa propre tête, puis la mettre sur celle
de l’impératrice. Il mit à ces deux mouvements une lenteur gracieuse
qui était remarquable. Mais lorsqu’il en fut au moment de couronner
enfin celle qui était pour lui, selon un préjugé, son _étoile heureuse_
il fut _coquet_ pour elle, si je puis dire le mot. Il arrangeait cette
petite couronne qui surmontait la diadème, en diamant, la plaçait, la
déplaçait, la remettait encore, il semblait qu’il voulût lui promettre
que cette couronne lui serait douce et légère.”
Napoleon, on this occasion, hastily took his crown from the Pope’s
hands and placed it haughtily on his own head--a proceeding which
doubtless startled his Holiness. In May 1814 Louis XVIII. and his
family attended mass at Notre Dame after their entry into Paris. A
great service was held there in 1840, to celebrate the restoration of
the remains of Napoleon I. to French soil, while Archbishops Affre,
Sibour and Darboy, who died violent deaths, were commemorated with
fitting solemnities.
The marriage of Napoleon III. to Eugénie de Montijo, Comtesse de
Teba, on January 29th, 1853, was the occasion of a great display of
gorgeous pageantry at Notre Dame, as was the baptism of the ill-fated
Prince Imperial in 1857. The Terrorists of 1871 robbed the treasury of
the cathedral of many valuable relics, but their intention to injure
the fabric itself was prevented by the timely arrival of troops. The
most notable ceremonies during the existence of the present Republic
have been the funeral service, in June 1894, for President Carnot,
assassinated in that year at Lyons, and the splendid State funeral of
Louis Pasteur in October 1895.
The great festivals of the Church are celebrated at Notre Dame on
a scale of almost unrivalled magnificence. On Assumption Day, in
particular, splendid music, wedded to the most ornate ritual, produces
an effect never to be forgotten. The pulpit of the metropolitan
cathedral has been occupied by a succession of great preachers, amongst
them Bossuet and Bourdaloue, and the services and conferences are noted
throughout the Roman Catholic world. The Dominican Lacordaire began in
1835 a series of majestic and picturesque discourses, which earned for
him the title _le Romantique de la Chaire_, and he has been described
as filling as a preacher the place occupied in literature by Victor
Hugo and in painting by Delacroix, H. Vernet, and Delaroche. In recent
times among the most popular pulpit orators have been the fiery Jesuit
Père Ravignan, Monseigneur d’Hulst, Père Monsabré, and M. Hyacinthe
Loyson, better known to fame as Père Hyacinthe.
Needless to say, this is the merest outline of the wonderful history
of the Cathedral Church of Paris. If the columns of Notre Dame could
speak, they would--to adapt a phrase of Viollet-le-Duc--be able to
recount the history of France from the time of Philip Augustus to our
own day. It is therefore natural that the whole French nation has for
Notre Dame a feeling of veneration and affection similar to that which
is called forth in English hearts by the Abbey Church of Westminster.
[Illustration: _Photo_] [_Ed. Hautecœur, Paris._
THE CHEVET.]