Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 https://archive.org/details/parispastpresent12hayn Paris : Past and Present pur /o 3 >// ^l I 1**1 £>1H 3HT ifO PA Li ACE OF THE LOUVRE: MINISTRY OF FINANCE ON THE LEFT ; ART GALLERIES 0\ THE RIGHT AXD IN THE CENTRE PARIS PAST & PRESENT By HENRY HAYNIE Chevalier in the French Legion of Honour WITH 32 ENGRAVINGS IN HALF-TONE TWO VOLUMES IN ONE NEW YORK - FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY - PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1902, By Frederick A, Stokes Company, Published in November, 1902. All Bights Beserved. TESTIMONY OF MY PROFOUND AFFECTION, DEDICATE THIS WORK TO ALL MY FRIENDS AND CONFRERES IN FRANCE, IN ENGLAND, AND IN AMERICA. H. H. CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. PAGE Preface 1 CHAPTER I. Primitive days of the Parises — The Roman occupation of five hundred years — Palace of the Thermes and its present ruins — The treacherous crime of an early sovereign — An ancient amphitheatre near the mod- ern Sorbonne 13 CHAPTER II. The first walls of Paris — Appearance of a valiant shep- herdess — Under the reigns of Merovingians, Pepins, and Capetians — Xorman invasions and numerous sackings — Building of churches and monasteries — Birth of the famous Latin Quarter — Certain periods ot the Middle Ages. — Stout walls built and streets paved — An immense donjon keep — The arms of Paris 29 CHAPTER III. Cruelty of Merovingian monarchs — A palace rich in great souvenirs— It is now the principal court house — A famous Marble Table— Hall of pride and luxury- Hawthorn planting in the month of May— The rough and unpolished Conciergerie— Those imprisoned in it in olden and modern times — A long trail of blood and misery— The cell of Marie Antoinette and others 46 CHAPTER IV. Autocracy and Democracy early disputing the right of power — Relations between the Romans and the citi- iii iv CONTENTS. zens of Lutetia — The Parlouer aux Bourgeois and the Maison aux Piliers used by the municipality — The first Hotel de Ville — Its destruction by the Com- mune in 1871 — The new City Hall — Official residence of the Prefet de la Seine — Often the scene of magnifi- cent balls in mid-winter — The rights of kings and citizens early defined — Beginning of municipal au- thority 61 CHAPTER Y. The order of the Templars — They build a grand fortress in Paris — Accused of secret rites and impious sacri- fices — Jacques de Molay burned alive — The Temple given over to the Hospitaliers — Its population of four thousand souls — Its final destruction in 1811 — The first Marche du Temple — A remarkable old clothes depot— How it was made to pay by the city — The Abbey and Church of Saint Germain des Pres — Duel- ling and brawling grounds of the students — The scene of horrible massacres 78 CHAPTER VI. Looking backwards at the Paris of long ago — Palace of the Bishops and its donjon — The Church of the Inno- cents — England's march on the Capital — The Maid of Orleans wounded in battle — Treason inside the city walls — The horrors of famine — Church and Tower of Saint Jacques — A fine example of Gothic architec- ture — New headquarters of a scientific society — Lib- erality of a rich scrivener— Once a bad, but now a beautiful neighbourhood— A bronze column in Napo- leon's honour—The theatre of Sarah Bernhardt . 92 CHAPTER VII. The Capital and le roi gallant — Numerous changes in the faubourgs — Construction of the boulevard and of the bridge called Pont Neuf — Curious history of the CONTENTS. v Palais Koyal — A palace long since abandoned by- princes — Meeting place of dissolute men and women — Once the fashionable centre of Paris, now a rather gloomy spot — The Hotel de Cluny — A magnificent museum of archaeological relics — Some precious crowns of the Merovingian Kings — The exquisite architecture of an old mansion — A queen's vengeance — Quaint and historical houses — The long-time home of witty Mme. de Sevigne, now known as the Carna- valet museum 106 CHAPTER VIII. An immense and sumptuous edifice called the Louvre — A perfect specimen of mixed architecture — Its three distinct periods — The scene of many deplorable incidents — How it became a great museum — A mas- terpiece of ancient statuary — Its preservation during the Commune — The Tuileries and its Occupants — Anecdotes and incidents — Its orgies, its horrors, and its final destruction . • 132 CHAPTER IX. The Hotel des Tournelles — Mansion wherein Louis XII died — Once it was both citadel and royal residence — A fatal tilting tournament — The chateau pulled'down by a queen's command — Origin of the Place Roy ale — Duelling during the time of Cardinal Richelieu — A famous neighbourhood — An expensive beauty and a poor poet's wife — The rendezvous of gaiety and diplomacy — Anecdote of a love letter— The best French ever spoken— An exquisite Marchioness — The old mansion of de Lamoignon 147 CHAPTER X. A world by itself in Paris— The Cite, the Universite and the Ville — Each a separate town or division — The days of Pierre Abailard— Upholding the philosophy vi CONTENTS. of Aristotle — Letters, art, and theology — The work consecrated by Pope Urbain — Fighting students and peaceful citizens — Seeking knowledge while living in the open streets — One hundred thousand pupils — The faculty and its rules — Anecdote of Peter the Great — Power of the Sorbonne — Its theology and its crimes — The new University — Official ceremony of 1885 — The College of France — A grand Institution of human knowledge — Free System of Education and open to everybody 161 CHAPTEK XL Le Grand Siecle — Why Louis XIY created Versailles-— Its immense chateau and magnificent gardens — The large courtyard and its monuments — An astonishing edifice which housed five thousand persons — The park, terrace, and fountains — Millions of money expended and thousands of lives sacrificed — His Ma- jesty's vegetable grounds and orangery— Incidents of historical interest— The Chateau of Vincennes — Its notorious donjon — Magnificent panorama of town and country . 193 CHAPTER XII. The Colonnade of the Louvre— The Hotel des Invalides, or Home for old Soldiers— Many strange scenes wit- nessed—Seeking for guns with which to take the Bastile— Breaking of Frederick the Great's sword- Mysterious vaults as burial places— The story of Mon- sieur de Sombreuil— Victims of the Reign of Terror —Their last repose in the Rue Picpus— Funeral ser- vice of Marshal MacMahon— A splendid military ceremony — Captured flags and standards — The artil- lery museum — Tomb of Xapoleon — Anecdote of Queen Victoria— The Chapelle Expiatoire— Royal remains at Saint Denis 227 CONTENTS. vii CHAPTER XIII. Back again to the great century — Senseless adoration of Louis XIY— The Porte Saint Martin and Porte Saint Denis— Creation of the Place des Conquetes— Eques- trian Statue of the " Sun King"— The Vendome Col- umn— Its many incidents and happenings— Over- thrown by the Communists — Anecdote of General Bonaparte — Effigy of the famous Captain at its top — Institut de France — Its five great academies — Their annual convention — The Forty Immortals . • . 249 CHAPTER XIY. Upon the hill of Sainte Genevieve — A land of church and university — The shepherd girl of Xanterre — A patri- otic and heroic saint — Yow of King Louis XY — An edifice topped with cross and dome called the Pan- theon — Interments in its gloomy vaults — Burial-place of Yictor Hugo — The Church of the Madeleine — Why Xapoleon started its construction — Its destination changed — Death of the first architect— Like unto a Greek Temple, but really a House of God . • • 265 CHAPTER XY. Good works by the First Republic — Establishment of different Institutions — Public education greatly improved — The Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers — Its location in an ancient Abbey — Church of Saint Martin without the walls — Building of a Monastery by Henri I — Its change to a Priory and its present condition — Free instruction to all workmen — Eleven Chairs established — Yaluable collections at this Con- servatory — Everything excellently arranged— The Paris Xautes of antiquity— Beginnings of the Muni- cipality — Eighty members of the Common Council — The President and Syndic of the Board — Public and private sessions — Annual expenses of the Capital — State Control over appropriations — Police force and how governed 297 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. The Capital dotted with military barracks — An Empire represented by four monuments — The Place du Car- rousel — A courtyard filled with ghastly souvenirs — Its paving stones stained with human blood — Scene of ancient tournaments — The grand fete given by Louis XI Y its only carousal — Legend of the " Little Man in Red "—The many troubles which followed his appearance— Santerre and his rough rabble- Massacre of the Swiss Guard — Josephine as an hostess — A famous dance hall — White flag of the Bourbons — The Grand Arc de Triomphe — An imposing colossal edifice — Anecdote of a Prussian colonel and the chil- dren of Paris — The funeral obsequies of Victor Hugo CHAPTER XVII. Louis XVIII and his foreign friends — How they imposed on the nation — Another revolution — The crown on the head of Louis Philippe — Transformation of the capital — Egyptian obelisk and its history — The Col- onne de Juillet — Increasing population of Paris — New streets and quarters — Sewers and fountains con- structed — Gas introduced— A brilliantly illuminated city CHAPTER XVIII. The so-called walls of Paris — Their use and their useless- ness — The era of Baron Haussmann — Birth and growth of the"Ville Luniiere" — Beautiful public gardens and broad thoroughfares — The Buttes Chau- mont — Description of a Paradise for the poorer classes — The Pare Monceau — Once known as " Phil- ippe's Folly," now the sweetest playfield in existence — The trees of the Capital and their cultivation — Millions of flower plants set out in the Spring and early Summer CONTENTS OF VOLUME II. CHAPTER I. View from the Arc dn Carrousel — Two pretty little gardens close to the Louvre — The Jardin des Tui- leries — Place de la Concorde — The Champs ]£rysees — Its origin and present appearance — Why the Cours la Heine was constructed — Modern life in the Elysian fields — A vista without a rival — Flowering plants and playing fountains — An attractive promenade on Sun- days — The Wide Avenue leading up to the Arch of Triumph — A field for philosophical observation CHAPTER II. Boulevards of the Capital — The main one is nearly three miles long and bears many names — An admirable thoroughfare — It starts at the Bastile and ends at the Madeleine — Beaumarchais, the author-poet — Mansion of a once notorious lady — Little cafes, little restau- rants and little stores — Scene of an intended assas- sination — Numerous theatres along the way — The moving centre of Paris — Famous Boulevard Mont- martre, with its many joys and misfortunes — A pas- sage named in honour of Robert Fulton — The street of mad pleasure — Place de V Opera and the National Academy of Music — A most remarkable edifice out- side and inside CHAPTER III. The divine art of music — First Opera House in the capi- tal—Development of the ballet — Arrival in Paris of X CONTENTS. Gluck and Piccini — " Ramists " and "Lullists" — The famous Vestris — A theatre built in sixty days — Assassination of the Due de Berri — Debuts in Paris of Taglioni and Fanny Elssler — More about the Opera House — A peep behind the curtain — Stage hands, musicians, dancers, and singers — One hundred and twenty-five dressing-rooms — Several green rooms — The foyer de la danse — A most luxurious hall for the ballet stars — Portraits of distinguished dancers . 39 CHAPTER IV. The Stage a part of life to all Parisians — History of the Drama in the Capital — Appearance of the Trouba- dours — The first theatre — Brothers of the Passion troupe — Satire a favourite weapon with some actors — Their troubles with the Clergy — Arrival of for- eign artistes — Farcical plays predominant — Cardinal Richelieu's support of the drama — Corneille and Moliere — Origin of the Opera Comique — Founding of the " first theatre in the world" — State recognition of dramatic instruction — The Comedie Francaise a part and parcel of the National glory — Anecdotes of Napoleon and the Stage 62 CHAPTER V. Anecdotes of French actors and actresses— Histrionic ability and beauty of Mademoiselle Mars — The pro- duction of an apothecary— How Napoleon gave his likeness to a comedienne— A theatre where the French language is well pronounced— The romantic school of acting— Rows over plays— A Paris theatre governed by decrees drawn up at Moscow— Socie- taires and pensionnaires in the company— Their sal- aries and benefits— How pieces are received or rejected— Anecdotes of how Dumas, Sardou, Augier, etc., read their plays to the committee— Museum of the Comedie Francaise— Statue of Voltaire— Remi- niscences of the famous Foyer 80 CONTENTS. xi CHAPTER VI. The Paris Conservatory— Founded one hundred and eight- een years ago — Talma was its first great graduate — How the music of the " Chant du Depart " was com- posed — Present organisation of the famous institu- tion — Pour annual competitions held — State control over all graduates — The Conservatoire buildings— Now a Musical College and Dramatic School — Its chief aim and purpose — A liberal, theoretic, and prac- tical system of education—The good results obtained 100 CHAPTER VII. The great work of the Third Republic — How the Capital has been improved and embellished — The bridges of Paris — Thirty of them within the city limits — The Bievre rivulet — Course of the River Seine through historic grounds — Battlefield between the people and the Royal Guards — Treasure trove — The famous Pont Neuf — Palace of the Legion d'Honneur — A bridge constructed of stones from the old Bastille — The Quai d'Orsay — Wanderings of the river — Some sixty different quays along its shores — Numerous curiosity shops in the Quai Voltaire — Old prints, old portraits and old volumes — The land of wholesale wine mer- chants 115 CHAPTER VIII. Religious edifices in the Capital — Abbeys and churches built by the clergy in early times — The first cathedral — Sketch of Notre Dame — A Temple of Reason dur- ing the Revolution — The wonderful things which the place has witnessed — Coronation of Napoleon and his Empress — A church without towers and without bells — Beautiful Sainte Chapelle — Sainte Eustache, near the public markets — The ancient cloister of Saint Severin — Splendid example of sixteenth cen- xii CONTENTS. tury architecture — A masterpiece of wood carving — The Church of Saint Sulpice— Saint Germain des Pres —Why the Church of Saint Germain P Auxerrois was pillaged — The edifice upon Montmartre— One hun- dred and forty-two churches but no churchyards — The different cemeteries and their famous occupants 138 CHAPTER IX. free Colleges since the earliest times — The first educa- tional establishments — Study of Philosophy and The- ology — Grands and Petits Lycees — Annual appro- priation to public instruction by the State — Classes free to all in the superior grades — The primary schools — School buildings large, light and airy — Things which surprise foreigners, as for instance free lunches — The keynote of public school administra- tion — Manual labour in the program — Special atten- tion given to domestic economy — The pedagogic methods — Mixed schools not popular — The pay of teachers — Cost of public instruction in France about #60,000,000 annually .174 CHAPTER X Napoleon's " Goose with the Golden Eggs " — The ]5cole Polytechnique — Its centennial celebrated in 1894 — Pleiades of remarkable men who graduated from its classes — The genesis of its legendary popularity — Anecdote of Napoleon — Ridiculous authority of the Bourbons — How the students won popularity — The conduct of young de Freycinet— Students in the role of conciliators between government and insurrection — Free at last of all party quarrels — Poor accommo- dations for the Polytechnicians— Dormitories and re- fectories — Their daily rations and their work — The clock of Berzelius — Drinking place of Mother Pros- per . 197 CONTENTS. xiii CHAPTER XT. ihe government of France — Meeting place of the Depu- ties — Once a mansion of princely pleasures — Two fronts to the Palais Bourbon — Hall of Lost Footsteps, and that of Four Columns — The reading room and the library — The Salle des Seances an imposing cham- ber — Five hundred and fifty-eight Deputies — Eight ornine political parties in the house — How members must address the assembly — Take their turn, as reg- istered, in speaking — The Senate sits in the Palace of the Luxembourg — Two hundred and ninety-seven members — A quiet body — The presiding officers in both houses — How they are chosen — Anecdotes of different Speakers — The standing committee — Official homes of the three Presidents — The Cabinet officers 218 CHAPTER XII. The parks of Paris — The art of gardening — Jardin des Tuileries and that of the Luxembourg — The plus belle parure of the capital — Sketch of the Bois de Boulogne — Once a forest where wolves and bears abounded — Xow the favourite resort of " Tout Paris" — Two large race courses — Seventy miles of carriage and bridle roads, forty-five miles of lakes and twenty miles of running waters — How the city makes money out of its parks — The wide thorough- fares of the capital — Over one hundred thousand trees in Paris outside of its parks and gardens . 249 CHAPTER XIII. The paths of knowledge and enlightenment — An institu- tion of incomparable greatness— Over three million printed books in the National Library — Its reading rooms — The hotel and family of De Nevers — Finan- cial establishments in Paris — The Bank of France — Its governor and board of directors — The annual bal- ance sheet — A most extraordinary cash box — The xiv CONTENTS. PAGE Bourse, or stock exchange — Membership limited to sixty brokers— Seats worth over $325,000— The Cou- lisse, or street board — The Petit Bourse . . . 269 CHAPTER XIV. A subterranean city beneath Paris— The capital built over a series of chasms — Sewers, catacombs and old stone quarries — Those who are down in the classic under-town — Eight hundred miles of drain — The principle posed by Professor Pasteur — Essential con- ditions of salubrity — Three main sewers and nu- merous secondary ones — The Collecteur d' Asnieres — That of Marceau and that of clu Nord — Siphon under the river — Vegetable gardens of Genevilliers — All telegraph wires and water pipes are in the sewers — How the Paris sewers are constructed — Immense amount of water consumed — The site of Paris, and how the city came up out of it — A visit to the Paris sewers — Banqueting beneath the capital — Miles on miles of catacombs, and over five million human skulls 280 CHAPTER XV. The final one — End of an imperfect attempt to show why Paris is so attractive — A resume of its almost countless splendours — Two hundred thousand trees and only eighty-five thousand houses within the forti- fications — The striking statistics of daily existence — A great city for vehicles — The Octroi duty — Rental value of all private buildings — Annual expenses about $65,000,000 — A summing up of this study of the greatest of all great cities 329 Index. 339 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS VOLUME I Scene in the Boulevard .... Frontispiece Paris in the XII Century . . Facing page 14 Paris besieged by the Normans . . 32 Palais de Justice and Conciergerie . 47 The Grand Provost on his Horse of Stone 72 Tower and Garden of Saint Jacques . 98 Luxembourg Palace and Garden in the time of Louis XIV .... "110 Old Hotel de Sens "118 Golden Hall in the Louvre ... " 138 The Venus de Milo ..... " 140 Palace of the Tuileries .... " 146 Chateau and Chapel at Versailles . . " 194 Sleeping Eoom of Louis XIV at Versailles " 200 Military Funeral at the Invalides . . " 234 Napoleon's Eesting-place .... " 240 Hear Entrance to the Tuileries Palace during " Third Empire " 316 Old Fontaine des Innocents . . . . " 352 VOLUME II Arc du Carrousel .... Facing page 4 Jardin des Tuileries "14 Porte Saint Denis "22 Sainte Chapelle " 54 Theatre Francais. (Burned in 1900.) . " 76 Destruction of the Bastille ... "110 xvi LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS Old Bridge covered with Houses . Facing Page 116 Chamber of Deputies .... a 124 The Foreign Office "130 Pont des Arts and Institute ... " 184 The Senate House . . "224 Park and Palace of the Elysee . " 244 The Bourse, or Stock Exchange . . "276 Monument to Jeanne d'Arc ... " 330 Scene in Pare Monceau .... " 336 PREFACE. Long before the commencement of our Chris- tian Era, a fugitive people in Europe, driven from their primitive territory during one of the innumerable wars of antiquity, camped near the frontier of some lands then occupied by a tribe of Senones. They chose for their future home an island of a river flowing through that region. A century later Julius Caesar and his victorious forces invaded the country, and one of the towns which the Romans founded was situated on the very island where the primitive nomads had settled their abode — in all subse- quent history it is known as the He de la Cite — and they held it for almost five hundred years. The Romans called their town Lutetia ; it en- joyed no privileges whatever ; it was not until the end of the fourth century that the place passed from the condition of vectigale to that of municipe ; and the story that is to be told 2 PAKIS. in this presen. work is of that town, which, as time rolled on, became known throughout the world as the capital of Europe. "Paris n'a pas ete bati dans un jour," says an old adage ; and to it may be added the re- mark that each and every part of Parisian soil and history is an inexhaustible mine of sou- venirs and traditions. It is my purpose to relate some of the salient and picturesque in- cidents in that history, to describe the more important institutions, to speak of the palaces and monuments which have ever marked the city with their charms and beauty. It is no easy task, this attempt to picture h la 'plume the remarkable physiognomy, the marvellous individuality, the wonderful beauty, the seri- ous intelligence, the earnestness, and the steady growth during twenty centuries, of the great metropolis. Still, we shall endeavour to see, at least briefly, all the immense and picturesque history of the great capital. Passing over the primitive ignorance which first gave life to the settlement on the little island that became the sombre cradle of the Cite, we shall see two PEEFACE. 3 towns arise on the banks of the river Seine. We shall go into the muddy, ill-smelling streets of Paris, while Julian the Apostate was still its governor, when valiant Genevieve saved the place from Atilla and his hordes, while the barbarian Francs were in possession, when it was under the first Capitiens, and when its second wall was built. Into and out of the Mediaeval Ages, we shall hurry along its first pavements, as later on we shall see the Paris of Frangois I. and the Paris of the Renaissance. After that we shall find ourselves among the Parisians of the Grand Steele, when the " Sun King " reigned ; and finally be among Paris- ians of the Regency and of the Revolution, of the Consulate and of the First Empire, of the Restoration and of the last Kingdom, of the gilded Empire and of the present time. In brief, by patient study and careful selection, we, that is to say, the author and his indulgent readers, shall assist at the birth, the baptism, the development, the growth of a miserable hamlet on a lonely island to village, town and city, until it reaches its present splendid pro- 4 PAKIS. portions. And the author's hope is that his efforts here will interest historians with a recol- lection of events which have been occurring dur- ing two thousand years ; interest thinkers with historical information ; interest philosophers with souvenirs of labour and of the struggle of progress ; interest artists with reproductions of remarkable monuments ; interest antiquarians and archeologists with retrospective sketches of places now in ruins, and of national relics which include crowns worn by the Morovingians ; in- terest the English-reading people generally with an account of the most magnificent city of modern times. In these efforts he will en- deavour to write of the Ville Lumiere and its long record clearly and accurately, so that each person, when he or she has finished with the book, will be able to say he knows more of the religious, political, moral, economical, social, and intellectual history, of the perfections and the imperfections, of Paris than was ever known before. It is true that the charms of the wonderful capital are already widely appreciated. The PREFACE. 5 poet Henri Heine, although German born, often wrote and spoke of the surprising and enchanting effect which Paris invariably pro- duced on him, even as it does on all foreigners. But there is hardly a period in its history when the capital has not been an object of profound admiration. To speak only of more recent times, some of the most famous men on earth have been among its visitors. They went there from all parts of the globe, and they saw in it something more than splendid palaces, sump- tuous edifices, or a multiplicity of promenades, avenues and boulevards. To them Paris had a charm independent of its external beauty. Among celebrated Englishmen, Richardson, John Wilkes, Horace Walpole, Gibbon, Hume and Sterne ; among Americans, Thomas Jeffer- son, Benjamin Franklin, and Robert Fulton breathed with delight its intellectual atmos- phere. "Ah, if I were only rich and in- dependent," exclaimed Gibbon with a sigh, " I should always live in Paris." Hume wrote: " I once thought of establishing myself in Paris for the rest of my days." Both gave 6 PARIS. the inexpressible sweetness of the intellectual life that existed in the capital as the reason for this attachment. In May, 1827, Goethe said: " Imagine a city where the best brains are all in relation, by daily emulation, mutually instructing and up- lifting each other ; where all that Nature, Art and Science offers that is most remarkable is accessible each day to study; a city where each step on a bridge or on a public place re- calls a great past, where at the corner of every street a fragment of history is displayed. And again imagine, not the Paris of a faded age but Paris of the Ninteenth Century, in which men equal to Moliere, Voltaire, or Dideron have put in circulation an abundance of ideas such as one finds nowhere else on earth, and then perhaps you will understand how Ampere, living in the midst of so much richness, could become so great at the age of twenty-four." "With Goethe the author permits himself to say that each and every step on most of the Paris bridges, or in its older gardens and squares, recalls a glorious past, and that a frag- PREFACE. 7 ment of history can be seen at nearly every corner. For fifteen years lie lived within the enchantments of this metropolis of letters, arts, and sciences, of fashions and good taste, of in- door charms and outdoor beauties ; and, among men and women whose characters seemed al- ways animated with the souvenirs of their city, he partook of the hospitality of its educational institutions. During those pleasant working years in the French capital, the writer never strolled through certain old streets without thinking of the city's past, even as he admired its present and marvelled at its great mind. Whoever can do so goes some time, if not to live in it, at least to see, this city of strange and interesting contrasts. A German duke once said that he would be well contented with a principality anywhere north of the Rhine, or an apartment on the Paris Boulevard, and it mattered not which to him. Not very long ago, a sovereign in Europe, who is something of a traveller, was asked which city in France he considered the most beautiful. " Orleans/' he replied. 8 PARIS. "Ah, indeed! then how about Paris?" de- manded his questioner. " Paris is not a city, it is a world," ex- claimed the monarch. " If I were a French- man, I should certainly call it the soul of modern society." To-day there are some three hundred or four hundred cities scattered about the face of the earth, each of which counts more than one hun- dred thousand inhabitants, and these are so steadily increasing in size as to warrant their pride in themselves. But when a few more centuries of time have passed away, when other ages have elapsed since Thebes, Mneveh, Baby- lon and Carthage were blotted out, how many of those cities will be more than a mass of debris ? Only Athens and Rome are left us to play the parts in modern civilisation that they assumed in antiquity. In all probability there are only a few capital cities which will never die ; there are evidences enough to assume the perpetuity of their continued existence, and Paris is one of these. It is the metropolis where the Five Divisions of the globe concen- PKEPACE. 9 trate, and with their contributions added to tliat of its own citizens, it naturally becomes the greatest Cosmopolitan Capital on earth. It will last forever, and in the far distant future, even as now, its people will proudly cry, civis Parisi sum. Let us stop just for a moment to see where the capital of France differs from other great European cities. London, the colossal, is, in its insular loneliness, the absolute product of a single race, and in her contemporary expansion represents precisely the same factor as Carthage did vis-d-vis antique civilisation. Berlin and Brussels, two centres of popula- tion developed almost entirely by politics, get their own reason for existence from history alone. Madrid and St. Petersburg are two defiances hurled at nature by a king and an emperor ; the latter by building a city in a swamp at the farther edge of a broad gulf, the former by founding one in the middle of a wide plain. Vienna, the Paris of the Orient, and where so many different races mix unequally, is a fine stage set for grand opera ; but where only 10 PARIS. comic pieces are ever sung. Lisbon and Con- stantinople, one on the Golden Horn, tlie other at the mouth of the river Tagus, are two ad- vanced posts at the extreme east and the extreme west of Europe, both close to the con- tinent of Africa, and yet neither is fit to live. Finally only Rome is left, and of her it may be said she was twice Queen of the World ; but she is not that now, and never will be again. The French have long had a saying, which is so true and old that it may be classed as a proverb : " Qui aime la France, aime Paris. Que ne connait Paris, ignore la France." It is a true saying : for to love France, is to love Paris ; and whoever does not know the capital, cannot properly claim to know that country. Not that the City is of greater importance than the State ; but because Paris is really the soul, the throbbing heart of the great land, and in the long history of France it has been the hero- martyr on many different occasions. True, there are those who do not take this view of Paris, who speak glibly of it as a modern Baby- lon, a city of disorder and vain amusements. PREFACE. 11 But it is also true that there are numerous vices in other large cities ; and perhaps, when proportion to population is considered, there may be fewer crimes committed in Paris than there are in Berlin, New York or London. While the French capital is la ville ou Von s* amuse, it also is that city of the world where persons study and work the most. Paris is the battlefield of labour, and without mentioning its savants, surgeons, men of letters, painters, sculptors, architects, physicians, lawyers, and other earnest students in and professors of every branch of Science, Philosophy and the Liberal Arts, it may truthfully be asserted that to its free scientific colleges and art ateliers, to its schools and studios, flock men and women from every country on earth, seeking knowledge and not vain amusements ; attracted to Paris, and kept there, not by its vices or its pleasures, but by its artistic and aesthetic treasures, its brilliant ideas, its rich music, its fine literature, its beautiful mind, its undoubted excellence in everything. Truly, it is the first place of wide and high instruction on earth. It is not alone 12 PARIS. the palpitating heart of a powerful nation; it is much more than that. It is the great and uni- versal workshop of thought and labour, the grand forge where all materials which suggest ideas are wrought into substantial form. This is why Paris is generally spoken of as the capi- tal of civilisation ; and even as Washington is the Federal city of our national Union, so may Paris some day become the Federal city of the United States of Europe. Satis superque. The Authok. Paris : Past and Present Volume I PART ONE. " Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time." — Shakespeare. " Comment s* est forme ce chef lieu supreme? " — Victor Hugo. CHAPTER I. Primitive days of the Parises — The Eoman occupa- tion of five hundred years — Palace of the Thermes and its present ruins — The treacherous crime of an early sovereign — An ancient amphitheatre near the modern Sorbonne. The river Seine, which, since its joining the River Marne and until it reaches the sea, twists and winds about like a snake in the grass, be- gins near the Southern Railway (Paris, Lyons et Mediterranee) station to take on wider stretch, and soon a group of seven islands ap- pears in midstream. The largest of these, the one best defended against the wash of river flow, resembles somewhat in its shape a vessel stranded in the middle of the current, and this island has been known from time immemorial as the He de la Cite. In primitive days these islands served as refuge or place of safety for the savages of the surrounding clans during their continual wars, one of which clans was a feeble tribe of Gauls called Parises (or Parisii, as the Romans wrote it), and the largest island 14 PAKIS. was their main resort. It was well chosen for defense, and they held it as their own exclu- sively until the Romans came and conquered. Centuries rolled by, and then, in memory of the earliest inhabitants, the place was named Paris. Let me here attempt to picture the site of this great and ancient town, as seen from the high terrace of St. Cloud, whereon the " Lanterne de Demosthene " stood previous to the war with Germany in 1870. Before us opens a plain dominated on every side, near or in the middle distance, by heights and hills. Those farthest off , beginning on our left and going all the way around to where we stand, are : the low col- lines of Gennevilliers with Mt. Valerian boldly prominent ; St. Germain and its magnificent terrace ; Poissy, and then Pontoise ; the hills of Montmorency; the hillocks of Van jours; the bluff of Champigny ; the heights of Villejuif, and those of Montrouge ; and, finally, the wooded slopes of Meudon. The nearer uplifts, those within the fortifications, are the " moun- tain " of Sainte Genevieve, the isolated hillock of Montmartre, the heights of Belleville and of Menilmontant, and the smart rise of ground towards where stands the noble Arc de Tri- PARIS IK THE TWELFTH CENTURY. PRIMITIVE DAYS OF THE PAKISES. 15 omphe. Inside of this vast amphitheatre of low and lofty hills, serpentines the river Seine with the capital stretching along both its banks, and all this wide basin was, in that epoch called diluvian, a great lake. By-and-by, however, after centuries on centuries of erosion, and when the site had passed its quarternary period, its glacial period, all its other prehistoric periods, the waters began to retire, finally drying up altogether, so that the plain we are overlooking, and the stream seeking its way to the ocean, are all that is left of the inland sea that once covered the now Parisian land where the small town of Lutetia was started in the long ago. Why so-called no one has yet been able to dis- cover; enough for us to say, Caesar willed it so, and in due course of time he visited his new possessions. A while later the Romans came in numbers to remain ; for their rule was, that when they had gained a country they installed themselves among the conquered as administrators, to col- lect taxes, and to compel observance of Roman laws. They were doing this throughout Gaul, as in other countries ; and they were too intelli- gent not to appreciate the advantages of the situation of their new settlement. They built 16 PARIS, houses on the island like those at home, these were imitated by the natives, and the village grew. Streets were laid out, a market-place established, bridges constructed, and as the people increased in number they also gained in material wealth. The island was soon too small for the new industrial and commercial town. It became overcrowded with little mer- chants, laborers, and fishermen, so the poorer inhabitants went outside the city and built themselves cabins where the land was cheaper; thus faubourgs sprang into existence. The first of these included as suburb the spot now marked by the Hotel de Ville, as the city hall is called ; and the second faubourg was off to the south, where the Place Maubert is. Meanwhile, rich Romans erected fine subur- ban villas ' on the plain northward ; that is to say, somewhere in the neighbourhood of the present Palais Royal, as they did also upon the isolated buttes now embraced in Montmartre and Passy. Some of them went so far away from the island as the hillocks off to the southwest where the Quartier de Yaugirard now exists. As for the Roman soldiers, they were perma- nently camped on the slopes that overlooked the river from the south, — actually the Luxembourg THE ROMAN OCCUPATION. 17 grounds, the Boulevard Saint Michel and the Sorbonne. Thus a military city grew up close to the commercial city and surveyed it from above ; and thus a Gallo-Romaine population was formed, for the Komans and the Gauls mingled freely. Everybody in Lutetia soon spoke Latin and Celtic; the tongue of their fathers was forgotten by the natives, and when Tiberius came to be emperor (A. D. 14) half a century after the conquest, this population of merchants and fishermen had already adopted the religion of the invaders. The Roman domination lasted for five hundred years, and during that period the empire cov- ered Gaul with excellent roads, stone bridges, splendid aqueducts, sumptuous country houses, grand palaces, fine theatres and noble trium- phal arches. The ruins of some of these con- structions at Paris are still in existence, as for instance the Palais des Thermes and the Am- phitheatre. On the left bank of the river Seine, a short distance from that stream, and just where the boulevards Saint Germain and Saint Michel cross each other in the Latin quarter, the passerby may notice a small but pretty gar- den enclosed with a tall fence of iron bars. 18 PARIS. Among the paths and along the allees stand ancient material, such as broken columns, dis- figured capitals, mutilated statues, sculptures half gnawed away by time, inscriptions on stones that are almost obliterated. Looming over this fresh-looking park is a ruined edifice of antique appearance, and it, inside, is a his- torical monument of grand importance. This garden, this edifice, these ruins, are the rendez- vous of historians, artists, antiquarians, of all others who are interested in the time when Rome ruled the world. The original of this picturesque ruin of massive, ivy-covered walls built of bricks, this the ancient Palace of the Caesars, was of immense size, if we may believe Zosime and Marcellin, the historians, what with its buildings and courts on the side toward the Sorbonne, its f agade on the heights of the hill, probably alongside of the Pantheon, and its gardens descending to and along the Seine as far as where the abbey grounds of Saint Ger- main des Pies were located afterwards. When Julian came to Paris this palace had already been in existence some time, and it was proba- bly constructed by his grandfather, Constance Chlore, who lived in Lutetia for fifteen years. In his " Misopogon " Julian speaks of passing THE PALACE OF THE THERMES. 19 the winter in his " dear Lutetia," and he men- tions one such winter which was so cold that fires had to be started in every room of the pal- ace to keep the house warm. Not very far from the palace, on the grounds now occupied by the Luxembourg garden, an army of Eoman soldiers was encamped. Jeal- ous of Julian, the emperor sent him orders to march two Legions home ; this with the secret intention of weakening that army so that Julian might be arrested if necessary. Informed of this intrigue, several officers at the Palace of the Thermes went to the camp and gave a few circulars to some soldiers which revealed the project that the emperor had in view and recalled the victories of J ulian along the Rhine and in the wars against the Germans. The few communicated this news to their comrades, and soon the entire camp was in a tumult, the up- shot of which was officers and men rushed to the palace, placed Julian on a shield, and then set the imperial crown upon his head. " By force," Zosime naively adds, as if Julian were not most likely the principal instigator of the revolt. This memorable scene took place on the site of the present Boulevard Saint Michel fifteen hundred years ago. 20 PARIS. The Palace of the Thermes afterwards be- came the partial residence of the Franc kings of the first race, but those of the second race never lived at Paris. Gregoire de Tours men- tions the palace in his curious chronicles ; and Clotilde was residing there with her three grandsons when the latter were sent for by their uncles under pretext of putting them in possession of the heritage, and he murdered two of them. In the twelfth century, poet Jean de Hauteville wrote of the palace in his verses : " Ce palais des rois, dont les cimes s'el event jusqu'aux cieux et dont les fondations atteig- nent V empire des morts. Au centre, le princi- pal corps de logis, dont les ailes s'etendent sur le meme alignement, et se deployant de chaque cote semblent embrasser la montagne." This goes to show that the immense hall which one sees to-day, and in the presence of which one is struck with astonishment while thinking that its still solid walls have had an existence of nearly two thousand years, was after all only an annex to the Palace of the Caesars. At the end of the sixteenth century nothing remained of the building except its present ruins, yet these are remarkably well preserved, especially a large vaulted chamber which once THE RUINS OF THE THERMES. 21 was used as the frigidarium or cold baths. It is sixty-five feet long, by forty-five feet high and of great width. The swimming bath, or tepidarium, is still recognisable ; it is a hall of bare walls fifty-five feet long by forty-nine feet in width ; and the infiltrations of nine- teen centuries of rain and storms have not made a single breach in its solid ceiling. The large trees, the earth and debris which long lay over the vaulted roof of this old palace has had very little effect on it. The ruined furnace and hot air conduits which were used to warm the en- tire establishment are visible. Water for bathing purposes was brought from a distance of eight or nine miles through canals and sub- terranean conduits ; but there was a wide deep valley at one place, and here a splendid aqueduct was erected. Of this Roman aqueduct the debris of two or three arches were restored within recent years and are now plainly visible outside the fortifications, to the south of Paris, It may be permitted us to wonder whether the Roman ruler who built the Thermes ever imagined it would be the theatre of such a terrible and treacherous crime, as happened there after the establishment of the Frankish kingdom had made it in part the sojourn of the 22 PARIS. early sovereigns. One evening in February of the year 814 two horsemen galloped up the street and entered the courtyard ; the Seneschal ordered the gate to be closed behind them, then he requested the two gentleman to hand over their swords, and they were informed that Charlemagne was dead, and that Louis le Debon- naire was on the throne. The Seneschal led them into the same large vaulted hall which we have just been visiting, there he took a parch- ment that was sealed with the royal stamp from his pocket, and, glancing at it, said : " Your names, gentlemen, are Raoul de Lys and Robert de Quercy ? " " Yes, sir." "Well, you are my prisoners, and my orders are to keep you locked up until to-morrow." "Why?" " The king's orders do not say why, but they add that you must be confined in separate rooms. Of what crime you are accused, gentle- men, I know not. I am only obeying orders." It was past midnight. Raoul de Lys was left in the guardroom, the walls of which were hung with flags and suits of armour ; but Robert de Quercy was taken elsewhere. For a long time the two men had been uni- THE TREACHERY OF A KING. 23 ted by friendship, and by dangers shared in common, but there was another bond of union between them. They loved, each, a daughter of Charlemagne, sisters to the new king, and Raoul was soon dreaming of Rotrude, while Robert dreamt of Grisla. Raoul's slumbers were broken by a noise, and a light appeared on the wall of the room in which he was con- fined. He perceived a sliding panel opening, and through it came Robert leading a woman, who, throwing back her veil, showed the fea- tures of Princess Gisla. " Where is Rotrude ? " asked de Lys. Gisla pointed to a ring in the floor, and with the aid of a spear the two knights managed to lift up the large flagging stone to which was it fastened. A secret stairway was revealed. " My sister will soon be here," said the princess. " We know that you are both in danger and wish to save you. Louis, our brother, will arrive to-morrow, and he intends to put you out of the way to avenge the wrong which he claims you have done by daring to love those of royal birth. When that is done he will also punish us, for he knows we love you." " He wants to give you and Rotrude to for- 24 PARIS. eign princes ; but the body of Charlemagne is not yet cold, nor his sceptre warm in the grasp of Louis " " It is warm enough to care for you ! " inter- rupted a voice, and the king appeared in the stairway, from which the stone had just been removed, dragging behind him his sister Rotrude, and followed by four masked men armed to the teeth. " An escaped dove put me on the track," said he, forcing his sister to sit down on a bench. " I know all the secret passages of this old palace, and it is here that I will hold my first court of justice. I will begin with you, Rotrude, whom I met flying as though the approach of your brother had frightened you, and these four gentlemen who accompany me shall be the witnesses to your marriage. It shall be celebrated this morning, even now. You shall marry Raoul, Baron de Lys, and you, sister Gisla, shall marry Robert, Count de Quercy, two of the bravest knights of my late father." "That is our dearest wish," answered the two knights. " We are at your orders." " Then put on these suits of armour," said the king, with a glance at the men who ac- THE TBEACHERY OF A KING. 25 companied him, and lie added : " The prin- cesses must not be present at your toilet how- ever." So Rotrude and Gisla retired into the passageway. They believed that their brother was going to show them forgiveness, and yet they still felt some anxiety as to the outcome of the adventure. The two young men re- moved their suits of chain armour and began to put on those handed them by the king's at- tendants. After awhile the princesses were informed that their lovers were ready to re- ceive them. They returned to the guardroom where they found Raoul and Robert seated in two high-back chairs, their visors closed, their heads leaning forward on their breasts, as if engaged in prayer. The king and his four masked men left the room; the princesses rushed up to their lovers, but were unable to get them to say a word. In 1560 some workmen discovered in a vault of the Palace of the Thermes an iron helmet, which by means of a secret spring was so ar- ranged that it would strangle the man who placed it on his head. There was a human skull in this helmet. Another remarkable evidence of the Roman occupation exists to-day in what is known as 26 PARIS. the Arenes of Paris, and which in the olden times was the imperial amphitheatre of Lutetia. It stood on the slope of what was then Mont Lucolitius, but is now the hill of Sainte Gene- vieve, where the open place and rue of Monge are situated. This authenticated fragment was preserved from the merciless power of its would-be demolishers only after innumerable difficulties, and it was not without a determined struggle that a group of men succeeded in thwarting certain builders and architects in their efforts, only a few years back, to destroy this valuable work of antiquity, efforts so well commenced by their fanatical predecessors dur- ing the fourteenth century, who had left no stone unturned to wipe from off the face of Paris the grand productions with which the so-called Pagans had enriched and beautified the place. This magnificent construction, whose walls are several yards in thickness, this amphi- theatre once large enough to hold twenty thou- sand spectators, this ponderous monument anterior to the Palace of the Thermes by at least a century, was discovered by accident and opened up again to the light of heaven after having been entombed for at least fifteen hun- AN ANCIENT AMPHITHEATEE. 21 dred years ! An examination showed that the monument liad been erected during a period when large stones were solely employed, and there were none of those bricks in it which Roman architects adopted later. The amphi- theatre stood on the south side of a hill where the Romans had built a temple and a palace, probably during the reign of the Emperor Adrian, to whom we also owe the arena at Nimes, and in whose time the Gaulish renais- sance began. When the barbarians invaded France and Paris, this amphitheatre was being used as a large quarry from whence dressed stones were obtained for constructing ramparts, as circus steps have been found in the ancient walls of the city. After the reign of Clovis, all things bearing any trace of Paganism, or of the Roman dom- ination, were condemned, and those new bar- barians called Christians destroyed all tombs, statues, and temples. Thus the theatre of Mont Lucolitius, dedicated to the amorous Cypris, was laid in ruins; its seats and altars were pillaged ; and in the museum of the Hotel Carnavalet, one may see to-day some magnifi- cent fluted columns which once contributed to the ornamentation of a structure that Christians 28 PARIS, rased and converted into a cemetery. The place is now open, and quite a museum of stones, inscriptions, rich capitals, bones of wild animals, innumerable medals, etc., has been located on the spot. There is much work of excavation to be done yet, however. CHAPTER II. The first walls of Paris — Appearance of a valiant shep- herdess — Under the reigns of Merovingians, Pepins, and Capetians — Norman invasions and numerous sackings — Building of churches and monasteries — Birth of the famous Latin Quarter — Certain periods of the Middle Ages. — Stout walls built and streets paved — An immense donjon Keep — The Arms of Paris. As yet, however, Lutetia was only a small town, a provincial town at that, for Lyons was the real capital of early Gaul. Still the place had its forum, a curia, and other public squares and houses, including one for law purposes that stood precisely where the Palais de Justice now lifts itself, and under which, when it was building, ruins of the ancient Roman structure were unearthed. There was also a triumphal arch, a temple to Mercury, several altars, etc, near the law courts, while upon Mon Martis, to the north of the town, stood a temple to the god of war. But after four or five centuries of Latin occupation, the people from the South 30 PARIS. were dispossessed, the town took on its name of Paris, and presently its inhabitants erected their first walls. They were in so great a hurry to do this that they would not take time to quarry the stones; they took them from old edifices, the temples, the arch of triumph and the amphitheatre. This first enclosure followed closely the main island, the faubourgs being left outside, and without defense save for some pali- sades — some of the debris of this first wall was uncovered in quite recent years — and the popu- lation did well to hurry their work of defense, for the land was quickly invaded from every direction by barbarians. Attila, with his terrible Huns, arrived before Paris, and the place would have been surrendered to him without resistance, but for the courage and faith of a simple shepherdess from a neighbouring hamlet now known as Nanterre. The valiant Genevieve, by her ardent exhortations, raised up the drooping courage of the inhabitants, and impelled them to man their walls. Whether this brave conduct on their part frightened Attila no one can say ; but certainly he did not attack Paris, and went elsewhere on his march of ruin and conquest. The Lutetia of Rome had been swallowed EEGIME OF THE MEROVINGIANS. 31 up by the Paris of the Francs, and the Chlodwig family were now in office. Among the many valuable souvenirs in the Bibliotheque Nation- ale (National Library), one can see to-day a bath of red marble in which Chlodwig 1 was baptised. The church was hoping undoubtedly to civilise the barbarians, but it was the con- trary that occurred. During the long regime of the Merovingian kings, when everything changed, and Paris became the capital, we find nothing noteworthy as regards the city itself except two remarkable facts : increase of the faubourgs, and the foundation of many churches. But as for the kings and queens, they would not reside at Paris. When the sovereign visited his capital he lived in the Roman Palace of the Cite, that is to say, in the Palais de Justice ; while the queen or her relatives occupied the Palais des Thermes. On his return from a victorious expedition to the south, Chlodwig founded that Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul which later on became the celebrated Abbey of Sainte Genevieve. The first cathedral of Paris was founded by 1 Chlodwig : or, more exact, Hlodwig, a name which in time became Clovis, Loys, Louis. 32 PAEIS. the bloody hands of Childebert, the murderer of children, and it was built on the sacred ground of all the centuries, and all the reli- gions which had been known by Lutetia and by Paris up to that period. That same king erected the basilica of St. Vincent and St. Croix, which soon became the proud and opulent Abbey of St Germain-des Pres, and to enrich which the u pious king," dearly beloved by his bishops, pillaged the churches of ancient Spain. It was so rich in gold and marble that it was known as the " Palais dore de l'Eveque Germain." But of all that large and magnificent structure nothing remains save the foundations of the tower near the entrance to the church now standing there. On the He de la Cite, when Dagobert was king, there were five or six churches ; while in the faubourgs were perhaps a dozen more, not counting the abbeys. One of these outside churches was the basilica of St. Germain, after- wards named St. Germain l'Auxerrois. It stands near the Louvre, and we shall find it again when we come to the massacre of St. Bartholo- mew. In the work of embellishing these places of worship, Dagobert was aided materially by UNDER THE PEPINS. 33 Eloi, a famous goldsmith whom the king made bishop because of his good works — as an orjevre, of course. There is a cross of gold that is delicately enamelled, also a chair in bronze dor6, in the Museum of the Louvre which are attributed to Eloi. The Pepin family, whom the bishops and popes, substituted for the Merovingians, were all devoted to the church except Charles Mar- tel. It was the church that made the fortune of this family by proclaiming Pepin king and Charlemagne emperor. To both of these Paris counted for next to nothing ; indeed the great emperor hardly deigned to pay his new city a single visit. When he was not battling under the blue sky of Spain, or in the warm plains of Italy, or a midst the chilly forests of the Saxons, he resided at Aix-la-Chapelle, which town he en- riched and made his capital. After him came other Charleses, emperors also, who ill-treated Paris and forgot the Seine. An invasion by the Normans followed ; they came seven different times, each time more numerous and more deter- mined to destroy. They sacked Eouen, Nantes, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Orleans, Beauvais, a hun- dred other places — Paris three times in succession — while Charles the Fat was king. 34 PARIS, The first time that the terrible Northmen ascended the Seine in boats there were perhaps no more than four thousand of them, all told. Nothing was ready at Paris in the way of resistance, and the old walls had been sadly neglected. On the approach of the " brigands " the priests and monks fled, bearing away the relics of St. Germain and St. Genevieve, while as for the inhabitants, so dismayed they never thought of making any defense, they also rushed to hide in the woods or in distant streams. The invaders sacked and burned, and meanwhile King Charles and his army did nothing whatever to save the land. Eleven years later the same thing again occurred — in- vasion, panic, pillage. On the first occasion the Abbey of St. Genevieve was only robbed, now it was burned and hurled down. All the country round about Paris was devastated, the crops were destroyed, and many persons killed. Thus far the rich Abbey of Saint Denis had escaped, but when the Normans paid their third visit to Paris, it, too, was sacked. This time there were thirty thousand of the enemy, and as the capital refused to open its gates, they swore to take and burn the place. The defense was simply heroic, for now the Parisians were led THE TERRIBLE NORTHMEN. 35 by the valiant Gozlin, a monk from the Abbey of Saint Germain-des-Pres ; by his nephew Ebbes, who was also a priest ; by Eudes, the Count of Paris, son of Robert-le-Fort ; and by Elides' brother Robert. These four men con- ducted the defense, and prodigies of valour occurred. Finally, the Normans promised to touch noth- ing, neither people nor property, if permitted only to march through the town, but the Parisians refused to consent to this. The city devoted herself to the country, she fought for France, and she paid nobly for her title of capital. The enemy was led by Sigfrid, a re- doubtable warrior, who, at the head of his enraged bands, assailed from land and water the tower which protected the bridge across the Seine known as the Grand-Poiit. Body to body, sword to sword, axe to axe, dirk to dirk, assailants and defenders fought to the death. Cut to pieces, the enemy were thrown into the stream, but hardly had they disappeared when other men took their places. Thus the day passed in and around one single tower. Three times, yes four, the Normans returned furiously to the assault, employing every machine of war that they knew anything about, but all in vain, 36 PAKIS. and the enemy was on the point of falling back when King Charles the Fat, who was far away from the scene of strife, yielded to the invaders and promised they should pass through Paris. These invasions by the Normans continued for a quarter of a century longer ; and Paris had still once more to resist the attacks of the terrible Rollon, the great founder of Norman power, who had already captured Rouen and all the lower Seine country by the sword. It was then that Charles the Simple devised a way of stopping the Normans from destroying all the fields and burning all the towns of France. He gave everything and every place they wanted to the invaders, and thus Normandy was created. The degenerate race of Charlemagne had finished by losing the throne, so to speak, and in their stead arose the families of the glorious defenders of the capital; that of the son of Robert le Fort, and that of Eudes. For the second time, the Church had put men of its own choice on the throne of France. Hugues was a rich and powerful lord, but he was also a great abbot, for he was at the head of five or six splendid abbeys. He wore the chape (cope) and this gave him the name of REBUILDING THE CIT£. 37 Capet or Chapet, that is to say chape. So France came under the dominion of the first Capetians, and with them Paris again became the capital; but it raised itself with much difficulty from out the ruins which had been put on or about it by the Norman gangs. Outside the walls of the Cite everything had been devastated or rased. The Palais des Thermes was half demolished, while away from the walls both sides of the river were as a desert place. Little by little, however, the faubourgs were repeopled, houses were rebuilt, the Palais de la Cite, which had been badly damaged in the later wars, was repaired, and the king erected a fortified royal residence on a hill to the south of the town, known as the Chateau de Vauvert. But the edifices which were rebuilt the soon- est and in largest numbers were churches and monasteries. Within a century the wealth of the monks, already enormous, doubled in value and this, too, at a time of great public distress. There were several causes for this, but they hardly need to be mentioned here, except in the case of the supposed millenium, that is to say, the arrival of the one thousandth year of the Christian Era. In the gloomy naves of their 38 PARIS. churches and cathedrals, lusty monks as they lugubriously preached penitence, had been an- nouncing the Last Judgment as close at hand. They themselves were frightened almost to death, and all the world, in country as well as in town, was listening for the trumpet sound. Believing that the end was near, men gave their lands and wealth to God; that is, to the churches, to the monks and bishops, this to save their souls. The year A. D. 1000, passed, the last trumpet did not sound, but the lands and wealth remained with the monks. This is why, when Paris was so badly off and her faubourgs had suffered so much, churches were erected which were larger and finer than ever before. There are plenty of churches now in Paris, and many are standing on the same foundations of those ancient days ; but they have been so often repaired, enlarged, or reconstructed, in part or total, that not one is the same as it was in the beginning of its age. The fragment the most complete now in existence is the choir of the church of Saint Martin des Champs. This church is attached to the Paris Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers, and we shall visit it by- and-by. BIETH OP THE LATIN QUARTER. 39 The two great events of tlie eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries both occurred outside of Paris. These were the crusades and the communes. Every city except the capital, almost every town had its communes, but Paris bided its hour, struggling meanwhile against the abbots and the bishops. A third great event was the appearance of Abailard on the scene. It is true he was imprisoned in a convent, and his books were burned ; but there still remained something of the prodigious movement which Abailard's presence had started years before. A certain curiosity to study, to know, a taste for thinking and for discussion, had been created, and schools were established everywhere. There were schools before Abailard's day, but they were few in number, and while he lived at Paris so many sought instruction that it was found necessary to build houses in which to lodge them. Naturally, schools and colleges became plentiful in this village of students, and to it, from all over France, as well as from foreign countries, strangers came as pupils. "With these also came copyists, librarians, writers on parch- ments; in brief, an entire population who depended on the schools for existence. The 40 PARIS. village became a quarter of the capital, a noisy, turbulent, singular kind of quarter whose inhabitants ate but little, drank a great deal, and spoke Latin. And so it happened that the famous Quartier Latin sprang into existence. The town that Abailard was in part responsible for is still in Paris, while the tomb of himself and of his dear Heloise stands in the cemetery of Pere la Chaise, where it is eternally covered with wreaths and flowers by those who still believe in love. Little by little Paris grew in extent and population, but meanwhile the bishops and the abbots remained absolute masters of the place. The bourgs multiplied, the city reached out to some of them, and they became quartier s. Louis VI, always at war, and especially with his noblemen, determined to bring all these faubourgs within Paris, and so a new wall was built. It was fortified with towers, the Cite ends of the two principal bridges being defended by chatelets built of stone. One was called the Grand CMtelet, the other the Petit Chatelet ; in the long run both were demolished because they obstructed the passage of men and vehicles. The Place du Chatelet, whereon two large theatres now front, is the spot where the Grand WALLS BUILT AND STREETS PAVED. 41 Chatelet stood until 1802. It is not within the scope of this work to describe these walls, their gates, and their towers, and indeed it would be difficult to do so, for their situation, at certain points is still in doubt. What is certain, however, is that they were so insufficient that in less than a century they had to be re- placed by another enclosure of ramparts, larger and finer, and this one was built by Philippe Augustus. Now of the grand periods of the Middle Ages, perhaps the most remarkable were during his reign and that of Louis IX, as they were also epochs of most importance in the history of Paris during the same time, for the Louvre, paved streets, market-houses, the Uni- versity, the Cathedral, and a coat-of-arms were then given to the capital. One day King Philippe Augustus, while in his Palais de la Cite, saw a heavily loaded cart passing before his front door. The mud was so deep and the water so stagnant, that the wheels and horses stirred up such a stench his majesty was obliged to quit the room. As he knew that a similar disgusting state of affairs existed in the other streets of Paris, and as the old Eoman pavement was no longer in existence anywhere, he gave orders to have all the rues 42 PARIS. paved, and the work was begun at once. But it progressed so slowly from century to century that when Louis XIII came to the throne, half the streets in the city were still unpaved. However, while thinking of his capital, Phil- ippe Augustus was also thinking of himself, and so he repaired a chateau with high walls, a few narrow windows, ditches, towers, and an immense donjon ; it was more of a fortress than it was a residence, and it was the original Louvre. Impenetrable to all Parisians, it also proved itself impenetrable to the English, and though outside the city was nevertheless the citadel of that city. To-day, in the smaller courtyard of the Louvre, one can see white lines traced on the paving-stones which mark the situation and size of that old Louvre of Philippe Augustus. The walls of its donjon tower were seventeen feet thick, while the base of it was sixty feet in diameter. It was intended as a refuge in case of danger, and therein the king stored his treasure, his jewels, his parchments, etc. It was therein he received his grand vassals, when they came to render him homage and renew their oaths of loyalty ; and it was there that he sometimes lodged them, in a way not altogether THE RESIDENCES OP THE KINGS. 43 to their liking, when they failed to please his majesty. Not far from the Louvre the king had his country house, stoutly fortified and sur- rounded by a fine garden. It was called the Chateau du Bois, and it stood on the grounds now occupied by the Palais Royal and the Theatre Prangais. The mansion of the Dukes of Brittany, with its towers, was on the banks of the river near by. But the usual residence of the kings of France when at Paris had been from time im- memorial the Palais de Justice, and it remained the seat and sign of royal sovereignty, even as the Louvre had become the seat of their feudal suzerainty. It was in the Palais and not at the Louvre that fetes were given, and where all foreign princes were received ; but that palace, and adjoining Conciergerie, will be dealt with in another chapter. At that same period, but in another part of town, a much larger fortress than the Louvre was built, the Chateau of the Templars. The Temple included, besides its church, large and splendid quarters for many knights, habitations for servants, workmen, etc. The Templars owned all the land round about, and their do- main within the capital was so vast that it 44 PARIS. took up at least one-third of the then existing Paris. Moreover, they owned a large chateau on the other side of the river/ wherein the commander of their order lived ; and the tower of this chateau of the commander stood until 1855, when it was pulled down. The armoiries of the city of Paris date from the time of Philippe Augustus. Following the formula of heraldry, the arms of Paris carry : des gueules a la nef frettee, habillee d'argent, flottanty sur des ondes de mfone, au chef cousu de France ancien. Translated, this means that on a red background is a rigged vessel with silver sails and floating on waves of the same colour, while above is a band of azure sprinkled with golden fleurs de lys — the arms of the kings of France. But the device or motto was not added until the sixteenth century. The idea was and is that these arms represent Paris itself in its historical origin, the He de la Cite by its shape suggesting a bark, stranded or anchored in the stream. Some people are pleased to see in this floating ship a symbol of the destinies of the great city, a very agitated destiny, a vessel rudely treated by many tem- Must in front of the actual College of France. THE MOTTO OF THE CAPITAL. 45 pests. Fluctuate nec mergitur — tossed about, but never engulfed — that is the motto of Paris. Truly it is a fine device, and may she never sink. CHAPTER III. Cruelty of Merovingian monarchs — A palace rich in great souvenirs — It is now the principal court house — A famous Marble Table — Hall of pride and luxury — Hawthorn planting in the month of May — The rough and unpolished Conciergerie — Those imprisoned in it in olden and modern times — A long trail of blood and misery — The cell of Marie Antoinette and others. The period of the Dark Ages was prior to the reign and death of Charlemagne. It is cus- tomary to locate these ages in the time of the Merovingian kings, or from about 561 to 748, a period of nearly two centuries. " It was a time when there were no schools for the laity, no books for them, no elevating instruction of any kind," is the usual way of expressing it. Pro- fessor Edgar Sanderson says that the first half of the mediaeval period has been known as the Dark Ages, but this, he observes, is somewhat of a misnomer, for " the light of learning was never wholly extinguished." Certainly the THE REAL CAPITOL OF PARIS. 47 founding of churches was a great fact m the history of Paris during those "dark" days; while the preservation of the colleges, and the support of the Masters and Doctors, as the teachers were called, shows the existence of an intellectual aristocracy during the reigns of the " long-haired " kings. The history of Paris shows further that these Merovingian chiefs, quite as cruel as were mon- archs long after their time, resided in the town at frequent intervals, living generally in the Roman palace of the Cite. In that palace oc- curred the very atrocious crime of Childebert and Chlotaire — both of them Kings of Paris at the same time — who assassinated the two sons of their own brother who had been sent to them by the boys' grandmother. After that Childebert went to live with his wife, Queen Ultrogothe, at the Palais des Thermes ; the ancient Roman gardens were full of apple and pear trees and flower beds, and in them was shown to subsequent generations the alley by which the " pious king " went from the palace to the basilica that he had founded, actually Saint Germain des Pres. It was this Palace of the Cite that became known afterwards as the Palais de Justice, and it, in- 48 PAEIS. stead of the Louvre, is the real Capitol of France. It is the oldest and most curious monu- ment of the Cite, as it certainly is the richest in great souvenirs. Count Eudes occupied it when he held the Normans in check, but it was a fortress then. Robert the Pious, son of Hugue Capet, turned it into a chateau, and St. Louis into a palace, which Philippe le Bel enlarged and Louis XII restored. Its old stones have seen many strange things, from the Francic battle-axes of the long-haired kings, to the sword of Francois Premier ; from the feathered plumes of Henri IV, to the spurs of Louis XIV, or to the eagles of Napoleon. Louis le Gros departed this life within its walls, there Philippe Augus- tus was married, and it was thence Louis IX sent forth that Pragmatique sanction which was the first claim of the liberties of the Gallican church. Official residence for the kings of the first and second race, it was only abandoned as such when the Hotel St. Paul and the Louvre were constructed. Even then it remained the theatre and the centre of all great events and political manifestations. Then, after having been the sojourn of the most ancient sovereigns of France, the cradle and the rampart of Paris, the Palais de Justice was still the witness, the THE PRESENT PALAIS DE JUSTICE. 49 arena of national struggles between the people and their rulers. The Cour d'Honneur of the present Palais de Justice is separated from the Boulevard du Palais by a high iron-barred fence, with enor- mous gates which are marvels of handwork. Seen from this grille, the Law Courts appear heavy, too massive perhaps, and yet the ensem- ble is imposing. The front, constructed after the fire of January, 1776, has quite a fine ap- pearance. Going up the steps, we enter first of all into the Salle des Pas-Perdus, or 66 hall of lost footsteps" — an outer room that would be called an antechamber elsewhere. On days when cases are being heard in the different tribunals the huissiers cry out to the spec- tators present when the judges enter, "The Court, gentlemen: hats off!" They might properly shout at us as we enter the Salle des Pas-Perdus: " Hats off, gentlemen: This is History! " Damaged but slightly by the fire of 1776, the vast hall is nearly the same as it was when reconstructed after the memorable fire of 1617; and when a great part of the original hall was preserved and made use of by the builders. It is 210 feet long by 95 feet wide, with a very 50 PARIS. high ceiling arched and beamed, and it opens into the civil and criminal chamber of the Court of Cassation, and to some other court rooms. Near the end of this grand hall is the site of the celebrated Marble Table. What this immense antechamber is to-day may be easily imagined by those who have aught to do with Law Courts or Halls of Justice ; what it was in the long ago is quite a different thing, and is well worth telling here. In this hall, as it was then, French kings re- ceived the hommages of their vassals, and solemnised their coming to power, their mar- riages, etc. It was around the Marble Table that the wedding of Catherine of France, daughter of Charles VI, with Henry V, King of England, was celebrated. It was at that table that another English King, Edward II, sat, as son- in-law and vassal, before Philippe le Bel. It was also there, and in the midst of eight hun- dred knights, that the Emperor Charles IV, and his son Venceslas (called the " Drunken King of Bohemia, were guests at a splendid feast, after which there was a most remarkable performance of a piece called the " Taking of Jerusalem by the Crusaders. 7 ' In this show a THE HISTORIC MAEBLE TABLE. 51 large vessel, full rigged and with crew, moved down the great hall carrying off Godefroy le Bouillon's gallant knights. Moreover it was on that same Marble Table that, and after the u Mysteries of the Passion," the clercs of the Basoche played their farces, moralites, and sottises, the Aristophanestic license of which spared no one from bitter sarcasm. That table, in turn a table of feasting, of throne, and of theatre, was also a tribunal ; because, by one of those contrasts so pleasing in the Middle Ages, it was there that the jurisdiction of the con- netablie and that of the admiralty held their audiences on those days when the Basoche was not in session. Finally, it was in this great hall, during the captivity of King John, that Prevot Marcel had the throats cut of Robert le Clermont and Jean de Conflans, this under the very eyes of the Dauphin, who was so horrified by the incident that he hated the Palais de Justice, and hur- ried to build the Hotel St. Paul for his future residence. Its vaulted ceilings harboured many tumults, cabals, or seditions by the Ligue and Fronde. In the time of Mazarin all councillors, when they went to the Palais de Justice, carried 52 PAKIS. poignards under their robes, and, wishing to be a la mode, Cardinal de Retz, hid one under his surplice, whereupon the wits referred to it as the breviaire de notre archeveque. This, however, did not save him, at the moment he was trying to force his way into the Grand Chambre, from having his head caught by the neck between two folding doors, and where he came near being strangled by order of his enemy, the Duke de La Rochefoucauld. This Grand Chambre is to-day the civil and criminal chamber of the Court of Cassation. Royal chamber under St. Louis, who con- structed it and occupied it, it became later on, the great chamber of Parliament. In vain have the authorities striven from time to time to change its character, it has always retained the air and appearance of other days. It was long the pride and luxury of kings. Louis XII, who was fond of conducting those foreign princes who were his guests, to this chamber, that they might have evidence of his good justice, had it gilded with the gold of ducats which came to him from Holland. The French Revolution made the chamber first its Tribunal de Cassation, and next its Tribunal Revolutionnaire. Then these same COUR CASSISES AND GBAND* SALLE. 53 vaulted ceilings which had seen so many for- eign inonarchs, from Emperor Sigismond to Peter the Great, which had looked down on French kings from St. Louis to Henri IV, — these vaultings saw a Queen of France con- demned to death. They heard the agonising accents of the Girondins, the virile words of Charlotte Corday and Madame Roland, the sobs of the Du Barry. From the Salle des Pas-Perdus we may also go into a now empty gallery still called Galerie des Merciers, and which was long the favour- ite rendezvous and promenade of Parisians. Another gallery is the Galerie de Saint Louis ; it is one of the parts the best preserved of the old Palais, and is a specimen in miniature of the transplendent colourings of the ancient Grand'Salle. Quitting this latter gallery, one finds him- self in front of the Cour d' Assises, the largest court room in the Palace of Justice. Philippe le Bel added a high tower and belfry to the structure, after it had been once or twice enlarged and strengthened. He also con- structed the immense and magnificent Grand' Salle with its nine naves, and intended for double use — a hall of justice and a hall of fes- 54 PARIS. tivals — as well as the splendid kitchens 1 with high vaults and large fireplaces. Between the Grand Salle and the Sainte Chapelle were galleries, to which a triumphal flight of steps gave access. The great court of honour was also called the Cour du Mai, be- cause the clercs of the Basoche, that is to say, the youngest of the advocates and judges, used to go there on the last Saturday in the month of May, and plant a hawthorn. Some curious stories could be told of those clercs and their jurisdiction. Once they as- sembled to the number of ten thousand suppdts or " subjects," at the obsequies of a " King of the Basoche." The real King was terribly frightened by this demonstration over le roi mort, and later on Henri III suppressed the mimic title completely, declaring that France should have no other king than himself. Such was the brilliant, gilded side of the Palais de la Cite, but there was another side to it under the rough and unpolished Con- ciergerie, or principal entrance to the palace, and which was defended by two towers wherein 1 Erroneously called Cuisines de Saint Louis in Paris Guide books, or by those who show tourists through the Conciergerie. THE CONCIERGEKIE PRISON. 55 cachots or dungeons were dug wliicli were without daylight and almost wholly without air, so that life in them was quite impossible. Under another tower — it is still standing and in daily use — were oubliettes into which were thrown those whom the authorities wanted to murder in secret. In them were blades and sharpened rocks, which hewed and hacked the victims as they fell, and the human remains were slid off into the River Seine through trap doors. The Conciergerie is certainly one of the most interesting places in Paris from the historical point of view. It would be almost possible to reconstitute a part of the story of the capital, with nothing more than the archives of that old prison, the most ancient in Paris, wherein so many celebrated personages have been con- fined. Take only the list of those who were imprisoned therein during the Revolutionary period, and one finds nearly all the great figures of that time. Under the Consulate — Ceracchi, Arenu, Topino le Brun, and Ca- doudal, accused of conspiring against the life of Bonaparte, were " detained " at the Con- ciergerie. Under the Empire — General Mallet and his accomplices were taken there. After 56 PARIS. the " One Hundred Days," the old prison re- ceived Lab^doyere, Ney, and La Valette. In 1820 the cell of Marshal Ney was occupied by Louvet ; and the four sergeants of La Rochelle were imprisoned there in 1821. A celebrated banker named Ouvrard was also one of the guests of that gloomy residence. He obtained permission to place a sort of gar- den in hanging boxes under the windows of his apartment and thus concealed the iron bars with plants and flowers. Under the Monarchy of July, Fieschi, who tried to kill Louis Phil- ippe, was imprisoned in the Conciergerie, as was Prince Louis Napoleon after the " affair of Boulogne." The cell that he occupied is now used as a linen closet, although the window looking out on a small court is still heavy with iron bars. Originally, when the Palais de Justice was a fortress and inhabited by the kings of France, the Conciergerie served as a common prison ; but, as its name indicates, it was also the habitation of the concierge, or porter, of the palace. But in those earlier days this concierge was something more than an ordinary hall porter; he was a kind of governor of the royal house, although specially charged with THE PASSING OF FEUDALITY. 5? tlie keeping of those whom royalty saw fit to imprison. In 1348 lie was given the official title of bailli. The concierge-bailli had al- most absolute power over all his prisoners ; he furnished them with food and straw at his own price, and more than once it happened that prisoners who were released by king or justice found themselves still detained at the Conciergerie until they paid the bills of their keeper. The mere name of the old establish- ment calls up terrible souvenirs, for its heavy walls have witnessed the passing of feudality with its long trail of misery and blood. All the political movements, all the religious passions, have brought their share of horrors into the annals of that prison. While the quarrels of the Armagnacs and the Bour- guignons were going on those who were with the latter broke into the Conciergerie and mas- sacred all within, without regard to sex or age. The courtyard flowed with blood, and its stones were covered with dead bodies. Numerous other incidents almost equally terrible could be related of the place, and especially of those aw- ful oubliettes, from which no human being ever returned. Mention has been made of the Cour de Mai 58 PAEIS, which opens on the grilled gate of the Court of Justice. Just before this cour is a large stair- way, while on the right is a small iron-barred gate. If one looks through this little gate, one can see a second door of arched iron, and it was by this last that Marie Antoinette, Charlotte Corday, Danton, Robespierre, and so many others who were condemned by the Terror, made their exit from the prison. There is an engraving in existence by Duplessis-Bertaux which represents one of these last scenes. In it the courtyard of the Palais is crowded with people curious to see the condemned creatures being led to the guillotine. The iron gate at which the tumbrils awaited their u passengers " is still there. Before this door burned a gloomy lamp, and by its uncertain light the keeper of the Conciergerie " checked off " the names of those who departed. By him passed Charlotte Corday and Marie Antoinette, their hands bound tightly together, their beautiful necks uncovered, but they walked erect and proudly to death. It was necessary for them, and for all the others who passed through this gate, to bow their heads beneath the overhanging arch. It was like saluting their prison masters before they died. THE CELL OF MARIE ANTOINETTE. 59 No change whatever has been made in this courtyard since th% Revolution, but many things have happened to the prison itself since its primitive uses. We can still see the room of the Tour d' Argent, where Queen Blanche was imprisoned. It is true that for a long while this tower was used for no purpose whatever, but in 1828 it once more became a prison. It is believed to be the place wherein Louis IX kept his treasures when he was king. The Tour de Caesar is on the right as one en- ters the inside court. Time was that it had no opening on the quay, but when it was made the habitation of the governor, or head gaoler, several narrow windows were cut through the thick walls. In one of the histories that I have run across it is stated that the Tour de Montgommeri was demolished in 1778, but this is an error. That tower, was the same as the one known by the name of Tour de Caesar, and it was so named from the beginning ; it was merely called Tower of Montgomery because it served as prison for that celebrated Protestant, victim of the implacable hatred of Catherine de Medicis. In it were also imprisoned Cartouche and Da- miens, and in 1794 the 132 citizens of Nantes, 60 PARIS. who were brought to Paris. The details of the physical and moral tortures which Damiens suffered in this prison are startling proofs of the barbarism which was still in existence in the eighteenth century. In this same Tour de Caesar a certain Pierre Bonaparte was lodged in 1870, as was Prince Napoleon in 1883. The cells which Danton, Marat, and Saint Just, once occupied no longer exist, but the cachots where the women were imprisoned are still there. At the end of a hall, on the right, and just before a grating which leads to other cells, is the prison-room where Queen Marie Antoinette remained for months, but it is now a chapel. Of the objects which the unfortunate Queen used while in the Con- ciergerie, there remain a small lamp suspended from the ceiling, a crucifix on the altar, and her arm-chair. CHAPTER IV. Autocracy and Democracy early disputing the right of power — Relations between the Romans and the citizens of Lutetia — The Parlouer aux Bourgeois and the Maison aux Piliers used by the municipal- ity—The first Hotel de Ville — Its destruction by the Commune in 1871— The new City Hall— Of- ficial residence of the Prefet de la Seine — Often the scene of magnificent balls in mid-winter — The rights of kings and citizens early defined — Beginning of municipal authority. In Paris, autocracy and democracy always have disputed the right of power. The one, with crown on head and sceptre in hand, issued its orders from some royal palace until the time arrived when the other, with hatchet or pike upheld, dictated its decrees from its maison commune, the city hall. Here, the growing Palais de la Cite was the abode of despotic kings and of a few privileged noble- men, who had become enriched by the sweat of those who suffered in the public misery ; there, the u parlouer " of the merchants and artisans, with its lugubrious pillars, reflecting the wor- ries and doubts of its members. Then the 62 PAEIS. scene was changed. For the Palace of Kings, now a humble suppliant, was forced to come and cry for mercy at the door of the house wherein the sovereign people had installed themselves. The history of the Hotel de Ville at Paris is the history of Parisian democracy. It resumes the struggles and triumphs, the defeats and sufferings, the hopes and fears of the people. It is the complete story of the numerous phases which have been taken on by Throne and Nation during these many centuries. Because the Municipality of Paris has nearly always placed itself between the sceptre and the citizen, its privileges have nearly always been insurmoun- table obstacles to crown cupidity. From time immemorial the Paris municipality has come to the aid of the humble against the haughty, and whether victors or vanquished, the men of the Hotel de Ville have never been afraid to speak to the kings of France. It is not my intention, however, to trace a detailed history of Parisian emotions ; I will therefore confine myself as succinctly as possible, to the special facts which are pertinent to the subject of this chapter, throwing only quick regard on the enormous panorama which is GROWTH OF MUNICIPALITY. 63 unrolling itself before our reading eyes. To go back to ancient times, we find the Cite pro- tected against encroachments by a corps of subaltern officers chosen by the Nautes, or group of persons doing business along or on the Seine, and charged to render justice in the name of the Roman Pro-Consul. In the upheavals of Parisian soil have been found at different periods numerous fragments which show us how close were the relations between the Romans and the citizens of Lutetia. One such bears the inscription in Latin : " TIB CJESARE AUG. JOVI OPTUMO MAXUMO M NAUTLE PARISIACI PUBLICE POSUERUJNTT. " The Nantes must therefore have been of some importance at that early period, as otherwise the Romans would hardly have consecrated a public monument to them. The barbarians respected the municipal government of the Cit£ by recognising its authority whenever it was possible to do so, but jurisdiction over navigation rested alone with the Nautes y which body soon changed its name to that of Hanse, which signified union or association. The history of municipal government under the first two races after the Romans had gone 64 PARIS. is lost among the uncertainties of ancient chron- iclers ; nevertheless, certain regulations concern- ing the policing of the river, made in 636 by Dagobert, in 798 by Charlemagne, and in 865 by Charles the Bald, assures us that the Nautes still existed, although under a different name perhaps. These municipal officers assembled at first in a house which stood in what was then called the " Valley of Misery," but is now the Quai de la Megisserie. From there they went to their own " Parlouer aux Bourgeois," near the Grand Chatelet, and thence, in course of time to a new parlouer, which was situated in one of the large towers of the city walls close by the Jacobins of the Rue Saint Jacques. In 1274, and during the reign of Philippe III, their association was qualified as u Prevdt et ^Ichevins des Marchands de la Ville de Paris," and at the beginning of the Crusades they took on their own coat-of-arms. In 1357 the municipal body purchased a house called the " Maison aux Piliers " because of its row of pillars in front, and which Charles VI had occupied in his younger days. It was not a very large mansion, but it served the purposes of the municipality for a long while. During the two centuries which followed, the THE STORY OF THE HOTEL DE VILLE. 65 city bought the surrounding houses and lands, and it was finally decided that these old struc- tures should be demolished, and a large edifice be built on the place thus created. The corner stone of the proposed Hotel de Ville was laid by the Prevot des Marchands in July, 1533, while Frangois Premier was on the throne, but work on it was not finished until in 1605. It served the city until it was set on fire by the Commune of 1871, when it was completely destroyed. The rich statues of celebrated Parisians and other historical persons which ornamented it, its many and picturesque paint- ings, its priceless old volumes and documents, its ancient furniture and rare tapestries — all these things disappeared in smoke and flame. After the Third Republic was well estab- lished, the Municipal Council of Paris decided that a new Hotel de Ville should be built on the old site, and it was ready for occupancy in 1882. The present City Hall is an immense and noble edifice, majestic in its ensemble, elegant and moving in detail, wholly worthy of the great capital, an honour to the municipality as it also is to its architects. Built after the style of, and from nearly the same plans as the old 66 PARIS. Hotel de Ville, though much larger — there are no fewer than 368 rooms in it, some of them of vast dimensions — it cost more than four million dollars, and covers a total superficial area of 14,476 metres. The principal halls are the Salle des Fetes, the Salle des Prevots, the Salon des Arcades, the Council Chambre and the parlours of the Prefecture. The first prefect 1 to occupy the new edifice — not without violent opposition on the part of the " City Fathers " — was M. Poubelle, and his official residence took up all the first floor of the corner of the Southwest pavilion, over- looking the little garden facing the River Seine. From the cabinet at the angle is a suite of salons and rooms communicating along the whole south front of the edifice, and when all the doors are open it is a long perspective, at the end of which appears the portal of the church of Saint Gervais. All these rooms are spacious, with high ceilings, and lighted by arched windows opening in walls of great thick- ness. If ever an enemy's fleet should mount 1 The Prefect de la Seine is appointed by the govern- ment and is a state officer, governor over the civil de- partment of Paris ; his offices and residence are in the City Hall. THE CITY HALL OF TO-DAY. 07 the Seine to attack these Babylonian walls, they would have a task to batter them down, in all probability. In the Prefecture itself there are three salons, or parlours, a fine library, a large dining-room, ten bedrooms, a nursery for chil- dren, a hot-house, garden, and conservatory for plants and flowers, besides a series or suite of corner nooks, rather obscure perhaps, that is to say, ill-lighted through narrow windows, and decorated with such names as toilet-rooms, bath- rooms, pantry, etc. And then in a third line are still more rooms, in. one of which are three billiard tables, which are well lighted from an interior courtyard. Besides, there are two grand corridors leading from the vestibule to an outdoor garden, not to mention a complicated network of dark galleries where electricity or gas is always burning. The general decoration is rich and by no means commonplace. There is not over much style, however, in the white and gold salons, and perhaps there is too much of false maple, false ebony, and false mahogany. The ceilings are everywhere of the style of the Chateau de Blois and are of desolating flatness. There is only the single exception, that of the Louis XVI room, which makes some show of excellence 68 PARIS. and which in consequence is called the chamber of Madame la Prefete. From these decorated halls one may step for a short while into the little garden and enjoy the very Parisian view that lies before him. There is movement, life, activity, even gaiety on the river, and one may see the prow of the He Saint Louis, the noble line of the pinnacles of .Notre Dame, the entangling of bridges that seems to be descending toward the setting sun. Up above, nearer at hand, on his horse of stone, the Grand Provost of the Merchants is watch- ing over his good city, and yet, sorry to say, his immobile and proud regard has no other object than the Morgue. Even the prefet, whenever he goes to the lookout windows on that side of his residence, will also have that not too pleasant perspective. He will never see more than the Morgue over the back of sulky Etienne Marcel and his chiselled steed. But perhaps that is to be the punishment of all pre- fects for daring to install themselves under roofs which the jealous ambition of Paris alder- men wanted to keep for the coming of the mayor of the future. The new Hotel de Ville is often the scene of magnificent festivals. Once or twice every MAGNIFICENT WINTEK FESTIVALS. 69 winter a free ball or a promenade concert is given to the people and other invited guests. On these occasions from six to ten thousand invitations are issued, and the whole affair, in-' eluding three or four orchestras stationed in different halls and rooms, two enormous huffets for free refreshments, etc., is managed, as one might say, regardless of cost, and these soirees are as democratic as they are luxurious, or vice versa. It may be added that on these gala occasions the grand marble stairway presents the magnificent spectacle of two splendid look- ing guardsmen in full uniform and with drawn sabres standing on every step, leading from the enormous cloak room (there are receptacles for ten thousand numbered objects) up to the Salle des Fetes on one side, and to the Salle des Pre- vots on the other, in all some sixty steps, thus presenting the brilliant sight of over 240 motionless dragoons, the pick of the French army, welcoming, so to speak, the people to their own civic temple. They invoke souvenirs of the cent-gardes of the Second Empire; and always, looking back through centuries, one seems to fancy the presence here of the French guards, the Swiss guards, the mousquetaires, and even be- fore them, the musketeers of the archers of the ancient prevots. 70 PARIS. But to hark back, though briefly only, to the time when the Maison aux Piliers en Greve became the parlour of the bourgeoise. The commercial people, the artisans, most of the inhabitants in fact were soon accustomed to looking on it as their protector, and in all the " excitements " which then and since have agi- tated the capital, the City Hall has been the point of reunion, the centre toward which all insurgents hasten. There was trouble in Paris after the death of Charles le Sage, and when the Duke of Anjou was Regent for Charles VI, on account of the finances, but the storm did not break until October 13, 1382. Then the people rushed to the city parlouer, armed themselves with lances, swords, halberds and some forty thousand iron maillets 1 and then they marched against the Chateau de Beaute, on Vincennes, on the Louvre, on the Bastille, on all the other fortresses about them. They had already de- stroyed the Chatelet, when a merchant named Le Flamand induced them to cease their work of destruction and to engage in war outside the city. Charles, who was at Gand, hurried 1 Mallets. Those who armed themselves with these maillets are known In history as Maillotijis. XNSUKRECTION OF THE MAILLETONS. 71 with part of his army on Paris, met the in- surgents, drove them back to the capital, marched in at the Porte Saint Denis and slept tranquilly at the Louvre, while his uncles were seizing all the arms and supplies of the citizens. As soon as possible Charles suppressed the Corps de Prevot et fichevins, refused to receive their delegation, restored the aides, gahelles, fonages, douzihnes, treiziemes, and other taxes, and transferred the authority of the Municipal corps to the city prevot. Meanwhile his Breton soldiers had been turned loose on the outlying fields and farmhouses which many Parisians owned, while the King's judges, u grands pourvoyeurs de givet" had three hundred of the principal conspirators decap- itated. Le Flamand was one of the first vic- tims. After thus striking terror into the bour- geois, heralds were sent about in the name of the King, ordering the people, men, women, and children, to assemble at the Palais. When everybody had crowded into that neighbour- hood, all the streets were blocked by Breton soldiers, and then the chancellor announced to the multitude that it was his Majesty's in- tention that the punishment should be as ter- rible as their crime had been. In terror the PARIS. people threw themselves on their knees, crying misericorde, and mercy! the King pretended to be touched by their appeals, they were per- mitted to depart, and thus ended the insurrec- tion of the Maillotins. For nearly thirty years the municipal body ceased to exist, and Paris was ? from both civil and military view, under the grand prevot; but this regime was soon to have its ending also. The struggle of the Dukes of Orleans and of Bourgogne, the English invasion, the quarrels of the Bourguignons and the Armag- nacs, these and other things forced Charles VI to solicit the aid of the Parisians; little by little their privileges were restored, the Par- louer mix Bourgeois was reopened, and the Corps des Prevdt et Echevins was re-established. But it was some years before the ancient rights of the city were completely restored to its in- habitants. The municipal officers, thus re- invested with prerogatives and privileges, set about securing the interests of the citizens by encouraging industries, commerce, art, even literature, but during the fourteen years when the English were masters in Paris, election of these officers was completely suspended. Thirty years or so later, the capital gave THE GRAND PROVOST ON HIS HORSE OF STOKE, GRAND RECEPTION OF LOUIS XI. Louis XI a grand reception after his corona- tion at Reims. On the 30th of August, 1461, he arrived at the Hotel des Porcherons, situate near the Porte Saint Honore, outside the walls, but he made his solemn entrance at the Porte Saint Denis, where he was met by the munici- pal government, dressed in damask robes adorned with sable, and who had come to offer the King the keys of the city. Inside the walls were five heralds escorting five ladies richly robed and mounted on horses; each of these dames had for sign and for name one of the five letters that composed the word PARIS ; and at the Pont au Change two hundred thou- sand birds of every kind were turned loose. Louis XI accorded new privileges to the municipal government, and Paris was fast acquiring great importance ; but the municipal- ity again lost most of its independence under the reign of Louis XII. About the middle of the sixteenth century the prevot and echevins participated in the civil wars and massacres of France ; and on the night of Saint Bartholomew the bourgeois assembled at the Hotel de Ville, took up arms, and when the bell of Saint Germain 1' Auxerrois had given the signal they marched through the 74 PARIS. city carrying death and carnage everywhere. Next morning one of their number, a wretch named Pezoa, boasted publicly of having killed 120 Protestants. No regard was paid to sex or age, and when the massacres had ceased, the manikin of Admiral Coligni was hung up in the Place de Greve between two men who were hanged alive, while the King and his mother enjoyed the spectacle from the window of the Hotel de Yille. The "City Fathers," took active part in the conspiracy of the Ligueurs, and then the Journtfe des Barricades, elsewhere mentioned, followed. Driven from Paris by the bourgeois, who were instigated by the Duke de Guise, the King retired first to St. Cloud, and thence to the village of Trappes, on the road to Rambouillet. It is not within my purpose to establish points of similarity in this history of Paris, but it is rather curious, the fact that the last of the Valois and the last king of the Bourbons should have abandoned the capital to the mercy of its inhabitants and thus fled from their own subjects. In time Henri IV was permitted to enter Paris, and it was during the reign of that prince that the first Hotel de Ville was finished. THE EVENTS OF 1789. 75 I pass over the reigns of the Bourbon family, to come at once to the events of 1789. On the 14th of July the electors of Paris assembled at the Hotel de Ville, adopted an order fixing the strength of the militia, and sent a committee to the Governor of the Bastille for arms. Delaunay refused to honour the people's requisition, and a few hours later the Bastille was in their possession. On the fifteenth, Bailly was ap- pointed provisional Mayor of Paris, and two days afterward Louis XVI went to the Hotel de Ville to receive from him the same keys to the city that had been handed to Henri IV. The King accepted this gage of peace, and responded to it by wearing a cocarde and appointing Lafayette Colonel- General. But the people had no confidence in the royal word, and his every act was watched closely. The electors formed a military and police committee composed of sixty members, and they threatened Necker and the King. The latter went with all his family to the Hotel de Ville to declare to the bourgeois that if it would satisfy the people he would fix his residence entirely in the capital. From that moment the Commune was the real government before which the Court trembled. The rest is known and need not be repeated. In time, however, the power of the Commune PARIS. was annihilated and once more the Conseil municipale of Paris was at the City Hall. But long before, when France was organised into prefectures, the Hotel de Ville became the residence of the Prefet de la Seine, and it has been so since except during the few years when Paris was without a City Hall. Under the Consulat and the Empire the municipal power in Paris suffered the same fate as the legisla- tive and judicial power ; they fell beneath the absolute power of a man who would suffer no authority but his own to prevail. The Hotel de Ville was given up to festivals, the magni- ficence of which increased with each step that the country made towards becoming the Empire of the World, and which was also a step to- ward its own ruin. It was then that the municipality was made subordinate, so to speak, to the Prefet of the Seine, which second position it still holds in most things. When Louis XVIII was dead, and when Charles X had been driven out of France, General de Lafayette, the man of two revolu- tions, arrived at the Hotel de Ville, and with him was the Duke of Orleans. The Duke was presented to the people, and on his head they placed the crown which his cousin lost. Louis Philippe had very little to do with the Hotel ANOTHER REPUBLIC PROCLAIMED. 77 de Ville after that, and in due course of time he too fell and fled. Then the re-establishment of a Republic was announced at the city hall. Government had passed from the Tuileries to the Chamber of Deputies, and from the Cham- ber to the Hotel de Ville in a few hours. Lamartine, the poet statesman, was the Orpheus who in turn appeased and charmed the populace. Standing on the steps of the Hotel de Ville, he opposed to the white flag, which, dragged in blood, had never made more than the circuit of the Champ de Mars, the drapeau tricolore which had made the circuit of the world, and he won. But the Republic of 1848 died soon, and again the powers of the municipality were restricted while the Second Empire lasted. Again the Hotel de Ville became the scene of splendid festivals. Balls and banquets were the important incidents in that establishment while Louis Napoleon was on the imperial throne, and then, almost simultaneously with his down- fall, the grand old edifice disappeared from off the face of the earth. However another Re- public had been proclaimed, and Jules Ferry, the great French statesman and journalist, had been installed as Mayor of Paris in the old City Hall before it was destroyed by a mad populace. CHAPTER V. The order of the Templars — They build a grand fort- ress in Paris — Accused of secret rites and impious sacrifices — Jacques de Molay burned alive — The Temple given over to the Hospitaliers — Its popu- lation of four thousand souls — Its final destruction in 1811 — The first Marche du Temple — A remark- able old clothes depot — How it was made to pay by the city — The Abbey and Church of Saint Germain des Pres — Duelling and brawling grounds of the students — The scene of horrible massacres. The precise period when the Templars ar- rived in France is unknown, but it appears that in 1228 they were proprietors of all the land in Paris since included in the Quartier du Temple. On this property they built a castle, flanked by towers and surrounded by spacious courts and a fine garden. A stout wall defended all ap- proaches to the place, and around this heavy wall was a deep moat, which could only be crossed when the drawbridge was down. It was here where the religious knights, who pre- tended to recognise no earthly authority but their own Grand Master, reigned sovereign-like THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. 79 during more than one hundred years, opposing to the kings of France a jurisdiction, the pre- rogatives and abuses of which their majesties were compelled to recognise. The Temple was so secure a fortress that Louis IX used to de- posit his treasures there whenever he absented himself from Paris. Philippe le Hardi followed this example, and, strange to say, Philippe le Bel lodged for awhile within the place, thus confiding himself to the safekeeping of an Or- der of which later on he burned the Grand Master and its principal dignitaries. It can be readily understood that the Tem- plars, proud of the hospitality they thus ac- corded kings, bothered themselves very little about poor travellers. Under the name of Commanderies, they owned some of the finest estates in France, and they almost had a mo- nopoly of all wheat grown. They became very insolent, indulged in all the vices, and laid up enormous riches for themselves. To them be- longed the finest horses, the best arms, the largest churches and mansions, the most sumpt- uous costumes, the rarest wines, also the most beautiful women. The proverb, " Boire comme un Templier " is still popular in France. But, by and by, some one began to accuse 80 PAEIS, the Order with indulging in magic work, a familiar crime in that time of ignorance, and it was whispered that the Templars had secret rites and made impious sacrifices. Serious his- torians have denied these accusations, neverthe- less, their turbulent conduct was often contrary to royal authority, and for these " crimes " they were punished severely, Philippe le Bel had all Templars in France arrested, he seized their property, had them tried by royal and ecclesi- astical judges, and they were condemned with- out having been put to torture. In 1312 the powerful Order was suppressed, and two years later Jacques de Molay and Guy, brother to the Dauphin of Auvergne, both of them the highest in rank in the Order, were burned alive on that spot of the bridge called Pont Neuf, where the statue of Henry IV now stands. Their goods were sold to defray the expense of this trial, and all the riches of the Order were given to the brethren of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, known afterwards as the Knights of Malta, and who also took possession of the Temple. Henri IV who had just finished the Place Royale, had an idea of buying the property, of pulling down the Temple, and of creating a THE HOSPITALIERS. 81 demi-circular square, from which eight splen- did streets should radiate. The plans were drawn up, and Sully was charged with the car- rying of them out, when the dagger of Ravaillac put an end to all of King Henri's projects. Having thus escaped the danger of being dis- possessed, the Hospitaliers, by order of their Grand Prior, Jacques de Souvre, built a priory, enlarged their flour mills, and soon the quarter became of as much importance as the Place Roy ale. In the latter years of the reign of Louis XIV, Philippe of Vendome, who had dis- tinguished himself at the siege of Candie, at the taking of Namur, and in Piedmont, was, in his quality of Prince of the Blood and Knight of Malta, named Grand Prior of the Temple at Paris. Thereupon he gave himself over to epi- curean tastes and pleasures, and his late sup- pers at the old Temple soon became famous, not to say notorious. The Prince of Conti suc- ceeded Philippe of Vendome, and in 1770 he opened the doors of the Temple to Jean Jacques Rousseau, who was pursued not only by phan- toms of his own imagination, but by real ene- mies to whom he owed money. The Temple enclosure, with its population 82 PAEIS. of some four thousand souls, was then inhabited by three kinds of persons ; the Grand Prior, the dignitaries of the Order, and a few noblemen with their families ; workingmen who had been attracted to the place by cheap rents ; and debt- ors who found refuge there against their credi- tors. This was one of the customs of the Middle Ages which the Government tolerated until 1779, when all the enclosure was sold by empythentic lease, that is to say, for a long term of years, and given over to private enter- prises. Somewhile later the main fortress, a great, square tower flanked by four round towers, was partially demolished. The tower was about one hundred and fifty feet high and had four stories ; on the second floor Louis XVI was imprisoned, and it was thence he went to the guillotine. The walls were nearly ten feet thick, and it was finally destroyed in 1811. In 1781 a large establishment was built on these grounds; it is still in existence, and is known as the Marche du Temple ; it is a mar- ket for second-hand goods, and is one of the curious corners of the French capital. The first March6 du Temple was a wooden building, consisting of a central rotunda and four THE OLD CLOTHES MARKET. 83 wings, with, two thousand stalls or stands, each of which the city rented to second-hand clothes dealers for as much as fifty cents a week. Be- tween the rotunda and the wings was a large space called the carreau, wherein no stands were allowed, and where a class of dealers known as chineurs were permitted to sell be- tween certain hours of the forenoon, on condi- tion that they displayed their goods on the ground, remained standing themselves, and when the bell rang announcing the closing of the carreau, carried away their stock in trade with them. The carreau was intended for none but the very poorest of old clothes' people, and this established two categories of dealers in the Temple — the marchands a boutique, who had a stall in the rotunda, or in one of the wings, and the marchands au carreau. There was not much change in the Temple Market during the first sixty years of its existence ; but after that the city government realised the constant danger of conflagration presented by so large a wooden structure in the very centre of one of the most populous quarters of the capital, hence it was decided to replace it by an iron and glass building similar to those which had been adopted for other markets in Paris. 84 PARIS. As the city was short of funds just then, it turned the management of this Temple Market over to a joint stock company, which, in return for a fifty years' concession, undertook to build a new structure and to pay the city an annual ground rent of $40,000. This company re- moved the carreau to the upper floor of the new establishment, and in order to induce the chineurs to accept this change, it provided them with closets called casters, measuring a yard each way, wherein they might lock their stuff after the market closed. There are five hun- dred of these casters arranged in three tiers along the walls, and for each one of them the company charges a rent of sixty cents a month, besides which the chineurs pay three cents for every bundle they bring into the place, plus an entrance fee of one cent apiece for themselves and assistants daily. Another change made at the same time was that the carreau, instead of closing at nine o'clock in the morning was allowed to remain open until eleven o'clock. The wiarchands h boutique on the ground floor begin business at nine o'clock and continue it all day, and every day, until five o'clock. They pay a daily rent, which varies according to the location of the THE TEMPLE MARKET, 85 stall, from four to seven cents per square yard occupied, and this makes the weekly rental of some of the stands in the Temple come as high as eight to fourteen dollars. Besides this each stall pays five cents a week for the cleaning and for the watchman, and a fee of from ten cents to thirty cents every quarter for what is known as the war fund of 1870-71. The bou- tiques are, as the name implies, little shops so arranged that the dealers can display their stock to advantage by hanging it outside dur- ing the day, and some of them are supplied with show windows. There are now about fifteen hundred of these marchands du Temple, all women, though many of them have a girl or two to help them in their business. But the Temple Market is no longer what it was originally intended to be. It is not now even what it was twenty years ago, that is to say, a place for the sale of old clothes only ; then all the cast-off trousers, coats, overcoats, hats, shoes, underwear, etc., of Paris found their way to the Temple. Everything was repaired and cleaned up a little, so that it might resem- ble, after a fashion, what it had been when new, and it found purchasers among those who wished to dress beyond their means. All sorts 86 PAEIS. of things were being sold in the Temple in the days when I first went to Paris. Shoes so old that the soles and uppers had almost parted company, coats in the last stages of threadbare- ness, tall hats from which all the nap had dis- appeared, corsets with every whalebone broken and much of the linen torn off, soiled gloves, badly ripped and buttonless, broken feathers and torn ribbons, worn-out petticoats, imitation jewelry, even old pots and pans were among the things spread out for sale, and as we, the customers, walked along the paths left between the rows of stock and stalls, our trade was so- licited by ces dames of the Marche du Temple in tones not unmelodious. But now nearly everything at the Temple is new, and it is very, very cheap ; and if one wants to find second- hand clothes, or anything of that sort, one must go to the shops in the small streets of the neighbourhood which make a specialty of that line of business. And that one may thor- oughly understand what is thus being recom- mended to them, let me add that in these other little shops most all the stock-in-trade hangs on pegs or nails. So when a man enters the place and wishes to look at an article, he must say, " Decrochez moi ga; " which is the French way AN ANCIENT. ABBEY. 87 of saying, " Hand me down that until I have a look at it." Another remarkable monument, one even more so than the Temple of that ancient period, was the Abbey and Church of Saint Germain des Pres. We are informed by Gregoire de Tours that in the year 542, King Childebert, son of the first Christian king of France, made war against Spain, and was accompanied on this expedition by his brother Clotaire. The two kings besieged Saragossa, and while there they came into possession of the tunic of Saint Vincent, the martyr, which was carried to Paris with grand pomp and ceremony. Some while afterward Childebert resolved to build a church in which to place this saintly relic, and, guided by Saint Germain, then Bishop of Paris, the site chosen was on the ancient ruins of a tem- ple to Isis, situate in a meadow close to the river. The edifice was begun in 556, and it was finished in two years. It was so richly decorated interiorly, and presented so brilliant an appearance, that the people called it the Church of Saint Germain le Dore. Not con- tent with thus enriching the sanctuary, Childe- bent settled revenues on it sufficiently ample to keep up a community of monks, and the place 88 PAEIS. became the Abbey of Saint Vincent. Later the monastery and church took on the name of the Bishop, and the ardour with which the ab- bots and monks of Saint Germain fought for their privileges during the twelfth and thir- teenth centuries, would, if described here, form a very curious chapter. The original church was seriously injured by the Normans in the ninth century, nor was it en- tirely reconstructed until in 1163. The Abbey, fortified by orders of Charles V, next took on the appearance of a citadel, its walls being flanked with towers and surrounded by deep moats. To the east and to the west of these wide ditches stretched a large meadow and it was from these lands that the Abbey took the name of Saint Germain des Pres. 1 The moats already mentioned got their water from the river through a canal called la petite Seine and this artificial stream also cut this wide meadow land into two unequal parts, thus tracing the line of demarcation between the property of the University and that of the Abbey. The scholars at the University were quarrelsome young fellows, and were not at all willing to remain on the grand pre as their 1 The French for meadow is pre ; Latin, pretitm. THE PEE AUX CLEECS. 89 grounds were called, preferring to use the petit pre of the monks for their promenades, because it was nearer the city than their own. This trespassing was not to the liking of the Brothers, but they would not quarrel over it, and so it came about that the students looked on the Abbey field as their own property and they called it le pre aux clercs. 1 This Pre aux Clercs was the meeting-place of all Protestants in Paris while Henri II was on the throne, and it was there that the perse- cuted band proudly held their heads up to heaven and sang the Psalm of David which Clement Marot had translated into French. At another period the Pre aux Clercs was the camp of a part of Henri IV 7 s army while he was besieging Paris in 1589. In November of that year the King wanting to have a good view of the capital, ascended to the top of the belfry of the church of Saint Germain des Pres. No one accompanied him except a monk and they were up there some little time. After- ward Henri IV acknowledged to Marshal Biron that while he was at the top of the bell tower he happened to think of a certain Brother Clercs was the name given to all scholars, laics, and young ecclesiastics in those times. 90 PARIS, Clement and his dagger 1 and was afraid his guide might attempt to murder him. During the reign of Louis XIII, nearly all of the moats about the Abbey and Church were filled in, and the canal of the little Seine became the Rue des Petits Augustins. The year 1792, that great leveller of many good things, suppressed the Abbey of Saint Germain des Pres ; but unhappily a gloomy edifice which had been constructed in 1635 as a prison, under the jurisdiction of the Abbot of Saint Germain, 2 was not suppressed. For the celebrity which is attached to the Abbaye does not date alone from its time as a monachal prison y and, despite the horrible cachots within its walls, its saddest hours were during that " epoque de civilisation et de lumiere " known in history as the days of September 2 and 3, 1792. There is no need of speaking here of the men, drunk with blood, who made the Abbaye so infernal then. Marseillais or Jacobins, the name matters not ; they were the same kind of men who three centuries before outraged unfortunate women in the streets of the capi- 1 It was a monk named Jacques Clement who assas- sinated Henri III in 1589. 2 This Abbey prison was called simply the Abbaye. SCENE OP HOEKIBLE MASSACKES. 91 tal ; the same kind of men wlio shrieked with joy at the sight of mutilated Protestants or shouted in frenzy while heretics were burning at the stake ; the same kind of men who in 1871 burned, destroyed, and assassinated. Yesterday it was the Huguenots whom they accused of drinking the blood of their own children ; to- day it was the aristocrats, the priests, the ene- mies of the peuple who were charged with crimes as unspeakable as they were untrue. The Abb aye became the scene of one of the most horrible massacres known in history, and the awful carnage ended with the killing of the Swiss guards of Louis XVI, who had dared to defend themselves and their charge against a wild mob the month before. CHAPTEK VI. Looking backwards at the Paris of long ago — Palace of the Bishops and its donjon — The Church of the Innocents — England's march on the Capital — The Maid of Orleans wounded in battle — Treason inside the city walls — The horrors of famine — Church and tower of Saint Jacques — A fine ex- ample of Gothic architecture — New headquarters of a scientific society — Liberality of a rich scriv- ener — Once a bad, but now a beautiful neighbour- hood — A bronze column in Napoleon's honour — The theatre of Sarah Bernhardt. If in thought we again hark back " aux temps de Saint Louis/' and mount to the top of one of the towers of Notre Dame, we may look over the city as it was in the Mediaeval Ages. Paris was then divided by the Eiver Seine into three distinct parts ; it was as if three cities were in a single city. Here in the centre lies the Cite, the heart of the capital ; there is the Palais des Justice; the great Cathedral is under our very feet. To the north stretches out the commercial and working ville, as it was once called, the large quartier of the hour- geoise, the quartier of the markets and slaugh- AS m MEDIAEVAL AGES. 93 ter-houses. Further off to the south stands the University, the city of schools and scholars, half laic, half ecclesiastical, a pedantic and a turbulent city, a city of noise and of study, of churches and of taverns. The real Cite, the oldest part of town, lies between these other cities, as if to preserve the peace in Paris : for the Latin city hates the bourgeoise city, and vice versa. Here and there we see large mansions and splendid gardens reaching down to the river's banks. Almost directly below us, on the north, are the cloisters of the Cathedral, and on the south is the Eveche edging the River Seine. It is a fine, large building, this Palace of the Bishops, with its chapel and its donjon, its ogives and creneatix, half church, half fort- ress, as becomes a great lord and a great priest. Yonder is the palace where so many kings reside when in Paris, and near it is the marvel- lous Sainte Chapelle. Those distant trees half hidden by towers are in the garden of the king. More than twenty churches are in sight, some very old, some quite new, and all are richly built. Over on the left side of the river we see the Abbey of Sainte Genevieve, which dominates 94 PARIS. the high hill of that name. 1 Towards the east is the Abbey of Saint Victor ; toward the west the village of Saint Germain des Pres, grouped around its Abbey, enclosed with a wall and de- fended by a wide ditch. Further on in that direction is a large expanse of prairie, called the Pre aux Clercs, 2 where on many occasions the students of the Latin city have rioted in fights or had their duels. In front of us, on the right side of the river, looms up the Louvre. Yonder are the markets, and there the Church of the Innocents, with its fine ceme- tery in which we can see a small edifice shaped like a tower — the lanterne des morts, the lamp in which is lit every night. Further toward the east on the same side, is the sinister Place de Greve 3 with its many terrible souvenirs of rope and axe. In the east we see the Temple, while far away to the north we catch a glimpse of the Chateau of Vincennes in the midst of a thick forest. 1 Now the site of the Pantheon. 2 To-day this land is covered by the Chamber of Dep- uties, the residence of " Mr. Speaker/' and the Foreign Office. 3 The Hotel de Ville or City Hall stands on this place now. THE DEATH OF CHIVALEY, 95 These things are but the striking landmarks, though amidst a multitude of housetops we may also make out the Grand Ch&telet, numerous church steeples and, on almost every hillock, the wings of windmills. One, two, three, why, there are no fewer than twenty on Montmartre alone. 1 Now let us suppose that a century and more has passed since we began to gaze down on Paris from the bell tower of Notre Dame. During this interval the disaster to the Tem- plars has occurred, the mighty power of the Pope has been much restrained. Indeed there has been an immense debacle of most things that were of the Middle Ages, and first in im- portance of all these was the death of enthusi- astic faith, of that faith which had impelled the Crusades, and which died with Saint Louis. Next was the death of the great feudal power, the glory of chivalry, which expired at Courtrai, at Crecy, and at Poitiers. Finally there was the death of that liberty which cre- ated communes, and which was strangled by royalty. Upon all the ruins only one thing 1 There is even one to-day upon the hill of Mont- martre, 96 PARIS. grew strong ; it was Royal power. The first result of which was to deliver over all in block to the foreigner, for almost immediately the English marched on Paris. Remember that after the battle of Poitiers, King John was prisoner to the English, as were all the French nobility. There was no longer any army or any treasury. The poor peasants, the J acques, as they were termed, were merely a flock of sheep without guardian, and worse than slaves in their misery. The country was overrun by the English, and towns were being ravaged. No one worked in the fields, no one sowed grain, there were hardly any harvests. Happily, however, the inhabitants of Paris were more active, more intelligent, more deter- mined than the people of the provinces, and if the Provincials had followed the Parisians, the foreigners would soon have been driven away from France. But no, they abandoned the capital to its fate, even as they refused to struggle for their own existence. The capital was now a city of 250,000 souls, and it was decided that the ramparts of Philippe Augustus should be repaired and strengthened, and a new wall built around that part of town still exposed to attack north of the river. The THE ENGLISH OCCUPATION. 97 work was begun at once and continued night and day ; the new wall was over three miles long, or nearly double the length of the one that it replaced. Moreover the wall and towers were much stouter, and when the work was finished the people were ready for their enemy. But the English remained at a safe distance, for some time at any rate; and indeed the city never was regularly besieged by them. It was surrendered in a treacherous or coward- ly fashion, and Etienne Marcel was charged with the crime of seeking to put Charles the Bad, an ally of England, in possession of the place, for which treason he was killed by Jean Maillard. We have now reached the period when the English were in Paris. A King of England enthroned himself in the Louvre and he was crowned at Notre Dame as King of France. The church, in the name of God, recognised the enemy as legitimate authority; and while in the midst of this captivity the Parisians inven- ted and amused themselves with that infamous sport known in history as the Danse Macabre. Then came a French army led by the valiant Pucelle, Jeanne d'Arc of glorious and saintly memory. The attempt of the Royal force to 98 PARIS. take the capital was made near a gate in the wall then standing at what is now the corner of the Rue Royale and the Rue Faubourg Saint Honore. The Maid was wounded in the as- sault, her army was repulsed, and Paris re- mained in the keeping of the English for six years more. The English were numerous and well armed, hence they could hold the city against French troops, but they could not defend themselves from an enraged populace. Time after time there were battles in the streets ; from rue to rue, from house to house the bourgeois fought the foreigner, finally drove them out, and again Paris belonged to France. But the horrors of war were soon followed by famine, and awhile later the capital was plague stricken. More than fifty thousand of its inhabitants perished in a very short time, and wolves ran wild in the streets, feeding on the dead or devouring children and women. Paris, thus cruelly ill-treated during the reign of Louis XI, still lived, however. It took al- most half a century of time to recuperate, but under Charles VIII, and under Louis XII, the roi bonhomme as he was called, it began to grow and to gain strength once more. TOWER AND GARDEN OF SAINT JACQUES. LIGHT OP THE KENAISSANCE. 99 The second Middle Age, shadow of the first, the real moyenage of Charlemagne and of the Crusades, died, or rather faded away, and the light of the Renaissance appeared. Printing and the new world were discovered, the real structure of the universe was disclosed, a second Gothic art, the one which succeeded to that of the thirteenth century, made its appearance. Half way between the Hotel de Ville and Louvre, in a small park or garden and among trees, shrubbery, and beautiful, flowers, stands the high old tower of Saint Jacques, a gigantic monument to mark the geographical centre of the capital. It is one of the most precious relics of old Paris in existence, as it also is one of the most striking and picturesque monuments in the world. A splendid view may be had from the broad platform at its top, one well worth the climbing of tiresome and winding stairs. This tower is one of the most elegant in existence, for it is richly dressed with fine sculptures, royally embroidered with splendid niches and carved flowers. Though not so high as the towers of Notre Dame, 1 at first glance i The Tour Saint Jacques has a height of 178 feet ; the towers of Notre Dame are 212 feet high. 100 PAEIS. one is apt to think it is much taller ; the reason for this is its isolation, or perhaps because the structure is not so thick and broad. In other times this was the bell tower of the church- of Saint Jacques la Boucherie, which long since disappeared from view. Take this tower as an example of the Gothic architecture in its last period, that is to say, during the fifteenth century, although it was really built in 1508, and if you would like to continue the comparison, study it well; then study one of the towers of Notre. Dame, if you would judge the difference and measure the progress made by Gothic art during an interval of two centuries. The majestic tower of the Cathedral has something that is very heavy in its appearance, while that of Saint Jacques is fine, svelte, and without those large proportions which stamps the other. Observe how the tower of Notre Dame is cut at different heights by three or four great horizontal lines that are very prominent and marked in the structure, and which divide the tower into three stories, so to speak. There is nothing of this kind in the Tour Saint Jacques. All its lines are ver- tical ; all its buttresses, its windows, its small columns, its arcatures — all these things go up, THE TOUK ST. JACQUES. 101 file en haut, as French architects say. Even the teraiinal line of the corniche at the level of the top platform appears as if broken by the four pinnacles which support a statue of the Saint and some gigantic animals. There (Notre Dame) the openings are wide and the ogives obtuse ; here (Saint Jacques) the windows are exces- sively narrow, the small arcades inordinately lengthened. The comparisons could be carried on much farther, but perhaps enough has been said to induce the reader to study these two types of Gothic architecture for himself when he finds it possible to do so. A winding flight of stone steps, lighted here and there with a small window pierced through the thick walls, lead to the summit and from a platform one may look over a splendid pano- rama of town and country. This monument of ancient Paris, so artistically restored, so care- fully preserved, is not only a thing of beauty in itself but it also is of great utility to French scientists. Since 1885 it has been the headquarters of the Laboratory of Physical Studies, an institution founded for the purpose of studying experimentally such things as dif- ferences of temperature and barometric pressure at different heights and their influence on men, 102 PARIS. animals and plants ; the formation of mists, fogs, rain, snow, etc. ; the extreme limits of vision in the atmosphere of a city like Paris ; the oscilla- tion of its soil, and so on. As far back as 1212, when the tower was doing duty as the bell steeple of the church of Saint Jacques la Boucherie, a Norman surgeon named Pitard was permitted to deliver lectures in the nave of the edifice. It was also in the shadow of this church that a public scrivener named Nicolas Flamel amassed a large fortune. When he came up to Paris from his native vil- lage, a very poor man, few persons except the members of the liberal professions knew how to read and write. Flamel opened a scrivener's office in a frame shanty that stood against the base of this tower, where he prospered so well that before his death in 1417 he had built a new portal for the church, had founded a large hospital, and had contributed liberally toward the erection of no fewer than thirty-seven churches, yet he never quit his frame shanty. When his wife, Pernelle, died, he erected a splendid monumemt to her memory inside the church. The inscription slab of her tomb is now in the Cluny Museum, it having been accidentally discovered by an THE CHURCH OF SAINT JACQUES. 103 antiquarian some eighteen years ago in a green- grocer's shop, where it was doing duty as a marble top for the counter on which he was selling beets, carrots, and cabbages. During the Revolution, when the church, which had for a while been used as the meeting place of a Republican club, was sold at auction, a condition was inserted in the deed, forbidding the purchaser from pulling down or demolish- ing the tall tower. The purchaser made of it a shot factory, while a second-hand clothes market was opened in the courtyard where it stood, and the tower was rapidly becoming a ruin when the city purchased it in 1836. The price paid was $50,000 ; fifteen years afterward something like $200,000 more were spent in restoring the pile, and later on the pretty little garden that surrounds it was laid out. As for the church, which was pulled down in 1793, there is considerable contradiction among historians and Paris antiquarians con- cerning its origin. The oldest tradition is that the first church was built along about the year 700, on the site of a chapel dedicated to Saint Anne, but later authorities fix the year 1200 as the probable date of its erection. It got its name from the largest and oldest slaughter- 104 PARIS. house in Paris, that stood just here, though it was once far outside the city limits. The church was altered and rebuilt several times, the edifice which was pulled down by the Revolutionists having been constructed during the reign of Frangois Premier. Originally there was no tower, but in 1508 the erection of the present one was commenced, and full re- cords of the progress of the work and its cost in detail are in existence. When completed the tower was crowned by a stone statue of Saint James, which stood twenty feet high. Inside hung a chime of twelve bells, and these during the Revolution were sent to the Mint, where they were melted up and made into copper coin. Many illustrious persons were buried in the vaults of this church, and at one time it en- joyed the privilege of being a civil sanctuary or place of refuge against arrest. There were only six other churches then in France which possessed this privilege. That quarter of the capital used to be a bad neighbourhood. Even down to the time when Baron Haussmann began carrying out Louis Napoleon's plan of giving air and light and health to Paris it was a network of narrow streets and blind alleys, the abode of the worst THE PLACE DU CHATELET. 105 class of citizens ; but now the entire neighbour- hood is beautiful. The garden is bounded on three sides by fine streets, and on the fourth by the Boulevard de Sebastopol, one of the largest avenues in the capital. Across this boulevard is the Place du Chatelet, a lovely square that takes its name from the fortress of the Grand Chatelet already mentioned in this work. It was a dirty, foul-smelling square until Napo- leon I had it cleansed and beautified ; now it is a very handsome place. On one side of it runs the Seine ; on another stands the CMtelet Theatre where only spectacular pieces are pro- duced; on a third stands a theatre which is owned by the city. It was used for several years as an Italian opera house ; and it was here that Miss Emma Nevada made her debut, as did Madam Calve also. When the Opera Com- ique, near the Boulevard des Italiens, was burned down, that State troupe occupied this theatre in the Place du Chatelet and remained there until their own house was rebuilt. It is now rented by Madame Bernhardt, the emi- nent actress. In the centre of the square is a large fountain, also a bronze column which was erected to commemorate the glorious victories of Napoleon's armies. CHAPTER VII. The Capital and le roi gallant — Numerous changes in the faubourgs — Construction of the boulevard and of the bridge called Pont Neuf — Curious his- tory of the Palais Eoyal — A palace long since abandoned by princes — Meeting place of dissolute men and women — Once the fashionable centre of Paris, now a rather gloomy spot — The Hotel de Cluny — A magnificent museum of archeological relics — Some precious crowns of the Merovingian Kings — The exquisite architecture of an old man- sion — A queen's vengeance — Quaint and historical houses — The long-time home of witty Mme. de Sevigne, now known as the Carnavalet museum. The reign of Henri IV was a splendid period in the history of Paris. Ever since the time of Charles VI the city had been losing little by little its Gothic aspect while taking on that of a modern city. There are certain old quarters of the capital, in the neighbour- hood of the Rue Saint Martin and the Rue Saint Denis, for instance, which still give us an idea of the physiognomy that the ensemble offered under le roi gallant. With all his de- CHANGES IN THE FAUBOURGS. 107 fects, even with all Iris vices, Henri IV was a man, and, rare thing for French, kings, he loved Paris. So, too, did Francis Miron, his Prevot, and Sully, his Minister. During Henri's reign the old houses with overhanging upper stories began to disappear, and builders commenced covering roofs with slates instead of tiles. No great change was noticeable in the general appearance of the Cite, however ; the Cathedral, the Eveche, the Cloister, all the other public places were as they had always been, and the old palace itself was pretty much the same as ever. Some few changes were made in the University, but none of grave importance. A few new mansions, a few new convents, two or three new streets, these were about all the novelties of the old Cite. But changes in the faubourgs were numer- ous, and as these kept on increasing in popula- tion, walls to protect them were found necessary. So Henri IV increased the size and length of the new ramparts which Francois Premier had started, and the Faubourg Montmartre, the Faubourg Saint Honore and the Tuileries gar- den were soon within the walls. While con- structing these defences large quantities of 108 PARIS. earth were dug up ; this dirt was levelled and sown with grass seed, and in the act of fortification these new-made lands bore the name of boulevards. When the defences were no longer required, and when they were de- molished, the large surface which they had occupied was thrown open to circulation, public promenades and wide streets being constructed by the city. But while changing their destina- tion they preserved their old name, and from this we get the modern boulevards that extend from the Place de la Bastille westward to the Madeleine. As the exterior defences of Paris in the time of Henri IV, that is to say, those on the right side of the river, followed almost exactly the course of the present grand boule- vards, we are able to judge how vast the difference in the size of the capital between then and now. One of the great works of that period was the finishing of a bridge across the Seine, known as the Pont JSTeuf. Begun in 1573, and finished in 1603, by Henri IV, the Pont JNTeuf is actually the oldest bridge in Paris. It is also the longest, crossing two branches of the stream, though close to a point near where they come together again. At this extreme point of THE "PAVILLON" HENEI IV." 109 the island, and close to this bridge, stands the celebrated equestrian statue of Henri IV, placed there by Louis XIII. The Pont JNTeuf has been admired, sung of, and celebrated ever since it was constructed, at which time it was the great- est of the six or seven that led out from the Cite, to the north or to the south. King Henri IV also had a great deal of work done on the quays, and he increased the size of the Louvre. He put another story on one side of the building, since when it has borne the name of " Pavilion Henri IV." At the same time, and with the intention of joining the Louvre to the Tuileries, he lengthened the interminable gallery alongside the river the which is now so remarkable for its elegant style and delicate sculptures. But to carry out this intention it was not sufficient to lengthen the Louvre, it was also necessary to extend the southern wing of the Tuileries, and this he also set about. His desire was to establish in these new buildings a museum of industry and the arts, as well as lodgings for artists and inventors. This was perhaps the first time in the history of the world that a king ever thought of sharing his palace with the people, or was willing to sleep workingmen under his 110 PAK1S. own roof. But death earned him off before the work was finished, and so his good inten- tions were never carried out ; for Louis XIII and Louis XIV, instead of completing the plan, could think of nothing better than to put as wide an abyss as possible between themselves and their subjects. Henri IV also finished the Hotel de Ville that Frangois I had begun. In brief, Henri was a great builder, and he built for France and Paris, while his successor built for himself alone. It was to obey the whims of a queen, and not to beautify the capital, that Louis XIII had the Luxembourg constructed, which by its architecture recalled the palace of the Medicis at Florence ; and it was that same king who permitted Richelieu to erect the Palais Cardi- nal, which has been called the Palais Royal ever since that Minister bequeathed it to the King. A palace long since abandoned by princes; galleries and passages lined with restaurants, jewelry stores, cheap John shops, and bookstalls ; arcades where the gallantries and vices of former centuries are replaced by the most depraved actions of modern times ; neglected promenades, foliage not always* THE FAMOUS PALAIS EOYAL. Ill green, fountains that seldom pour forth their waters, a spot given over to the children of the lower classes, a romping place for Paris gamins, — such is now the famous Pal- ais Royal. Over its front might be written, "This was Paris; now it is only a country garden." And yet these gardens and galleries have been the theatre of a great many important events in French history. In it power once dwelt that was long in open rivalry with the ruling sovereign, and in it the great Revolution of 1789 began. Pleasure, vice, dissipation, in- dustry, have all flourished within its limits; and prodigalities, miseries, and curious con- trasts have jostled each other under arcades that once were the hell and the paradise of Parisians. The palace cost Richelieu a great deal of money, but he did not care for that ; he even paid out an additional large sum for the Hotel de Sillery alongside, then pulled it down so as to have a public square in front of his own door. Thence he laid out the Rue Richelieu, so as to have a straight road from his town- house to his farm of La Grange-Bateliere. I have read at the National Library in Paris 112 PAKIS. some pompous descriptions of a fSte which the Cardinal gave in honour of the betrothal of his niece, Claire Clemence de Maile, with that Duke d'Enghien who subsequently became known in history as " le grand Conde" and its magnificence seems to have exceeded every- thing that had previously been attempted in that line. First of all, there was a play, after that a banquet, where the dishes were handed around by fifty-two pages, and then there was a splendid ball. The Queen was carried to a throne on a golden car, drawn by a pair of peacocks, and as soon as she gave the signal dancing began. After Richelieu's death the place became the property of Louis XIII, and when, in October, 1643, Anne of Austria made it her habitation, it became known as the Palais Royal. After his majority, Louis XIV always stayed in it when in Paris, preferring it to the Louvre, his official residence. When Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I of England, arrived in France, after her husband's execution, the Palais Royal was assigned her for residence, and she occupied it until 1661, at which date it became the residence of "Monsieur," the brother of Louis XIV, to whom it was made SCENES OF LUXUKY AND SHAME 113 a present a few years afterward. At his death the palace became the property of his son, Philippe d'Orleans, Duke de Chart-res, who, however, did not take up his abode there until he became Regent of France during Louis XV's minority. With this regency began a new era of luxury, splendour, and tumult for the Palais Royal, and yet there was very little resemblance be- tween his court and that which had surrounded Anne of Austria. The reign of Louis XIV and of Madame de Maintenon had just come to an end, courtiers were still full of hatred for the austerity and piety that characterised the latter part of the dead King's reign, and so Philippe hastened to make his palace a house of pleasure. He wished that the very air should have a luxurious and voluptuous flavour, and his intentions were ably seconded by some of the most dissolute men and women that ever lived ; so that even for a long time after " Monsieur's " day the Palais Royal re- tained souvenirs and traces of a freedom of manners such as no other building has perhaps ever witnessed. Charles VII and Agnes de Sorel, Francois I, with his numerous gallant- ries, Henri II, Henri III, Henri IV, and 114 PARIS, Louis XIV, were all decent persons so to speak, and their amorous adventures were quite innocent as compared with those of Philippe of Orleans, whose carryings on in the Palais Royal cannot possibly be described in this volume. The favourites of the Regent and the noble ladies of the time succeeded in surpassing all that imagination can suppose in the way of sin and shame. Indeed the Palais Royal was so deeply marked by the indecent doings of the period that it has never been able to get entirely ride of those souvenirs. It was an era of late suppers, bacchanalian revels, shameless orgies ; and as much gold was necessary, it was the time when " Mississippi " Law appeared on the scene. Philippe died suddenly, and his son, when he had tired of the palace, went to the Abbey of Sainte Gene- vieve. In 1763 flames destroyed the Opera House which Richelieu had built, and this furnished an excuse for the complete restoration of the Palais Royal, the expenses thereof being paid by the city of Paris. In 1780 the Duke of Orleans gave the place to his son, Louis Phil- ippe Joseph, and with him the orgies were re- sumed. It was he who surrounded the garden THE COURT OF GALLANTRY. 115 with the buildings which now enclose it on three sides, an act that caused great dissatis- faction to owners of the neighbouring property, public opinion expressing itself in sarcastic epi- grams about Princes of Royal blood turning palaces into shops and drinking places. It was that Prince who erected a small theatre at one corner of the place now known as the Theatre du Palais Royal. By 1786 the spot had become the most fash- ionable centre of Paris ; the whole life of the capital was to be found in and around it, and gallantry and vice held high court within its limits. There was a sort of underground cir- cus in the centre of the garden which was so constructed as to resemble a large green arbour with a terrace at the top where a fountain was continually casting up silvery waters. Besides this circus there was a theatre, while down in the cellars were dancing halls. This enterprise did not have long existence, however, for in the month of November, 1798, the building was destroyed by fire. After that the large rotunda of the circus was vaulted over, and in 1817 the circular fountain that is seen to-day was constructed on the spot. The Palais Royal garden is the scene where Camille Desmoulins 116 PAKIS, plucked the leaf from a tree that served as the first cockade of the French Revolution. Three days afterward the people stormed the Bastille. The Palais Royal was confiscated when the Duke of Orleans was beheaded, gambling houses were opened on its upper floors, and almost all the lower ones were turned into restaurants. During the Consulate the law courts held their sessions at the Palais Royal for awhile ; then, by decree of Napoleon I, the property was made a part of the crown domain, and the Stock Exchange was allowed to use one of its wings provisionally. But after the fall of the First Empire the property was restored to the son of the Duke who had perished on the guillotine. Later on, this son became King Louis Philippe. After Waterloo, the new proprietor devoted himself to the embellishment and improvement of the Palais Royal. The galleries were still the liveliest place in Paris. Its shops had a world-wide reputation, and provincials as well as foreigners from everywhere flocked to the Palais Royal as to one of the wonders of this world. Not only was the reputation for splen- dour enjoyed by its shops fully deserved, but the palace and its garden were the centre of BEGINNING OF ITS DECADENCE. 117 many pleasures. Its restaurants were con- sidered, and justly so, the best in Europe. The cooks were artistes, their cellars contained the finest wines, while good taste and prompt service increased their celebrity. At that time the Palais Royal was not only the centre of Paris, it was also the centre of civilised Europe. It was an immense and opulent bazaar, an ever- open harem, a capharnaiim of dissipation where everything attracted and to which every- body went. The Duke of Orleans drew colos- sal income from his rents, he managed his prop- erty judiciously and kept it in excellent repair. During the fighting of July, 1830, the Palais Royal remained deserted, but on the third day of that revolution a serious encounter between the people and the troops took place in front of it. Victory over the Bourbons was finally won, the Palais Royal became the headquarters for a new monarchy for a short while, and its gardens were traversed daily by deputations on their way to cheer the Citizen King. The first act of the July monarchy was to abolish public gambling, whereupon the people com- menced to desert the Palais Royal, and that was the beginning of its decadence. It is now 118 PARIS. very little more than a gloomy, old-fashioned lot of buildings surrounding a large square. All but one, perhaps two, of its famous restau- rants have gone their way, but any number of cheap eating places are yet to be found within its buildings. Its shops no longer attract fash- ionable people to their counters, and although there are a few fine stores still within the place these do very little business now. In the day- time the Palais Royal is infested by tourists, wet-nurses and little children. At night it is dark, silent, and deserted. It is still beautiful in its way, but it reminds one of an old liber- tine who has reformed, and who, though virtu- ous now, seems bored to death. Another structure of that period in the history of Paris which deserves our notice is the elegant mansion known as the Hotel de Cluny. Mention has already been made of the Palais des Thermes which was occupied by the Frank- ish Kings down to the end of the tenth cen- tury. When the Capets constructed a new royal palace the old Roman building quickly saw a change in its destiny, and it was in a bad condition when Philippe Augustus made it a present to one of his chamberlains in 1218. It remained in that nobleman's family until the OLD HOTEL DE SENS, THE HOTEL DE CLUNY. 119 middle of the fourteenth century, when Pierre de Chalus, Abbot of Cluny, purchased it and the surrounding lands. The Abbot's idea was to construct a residence near the college which his Order owned close by the Sorbonne so that the monks of Cluny might lodge there when in Paris. That plan was not carried out, however, and it was during the reign of Charles VIII that Jean de Bourbon undertook to build the house we now admire. He did not accom- plish the work, and the Hotel de Cluny was only finished toward the close of the reign of Charles VIII, and then by Jacques d'Amboise, Abbot of Jumieges. Since then it has been in turn the dwelling-place of a sister of Henry VIII of England, the bridal chamber of James V of Scotland, the residence of abbots, the theatre of strolling players, the abode of Papal Minis- ters, an observatory, a dissecting hall, a printing- office, a boarding school, etc. In 1832 it became the repository of one of the rarest and most magnificent collections of sculpture in marble, in wood, in ivory ; of enam- els, terra-cotta pieces, bronzes, furniture, stained glass ; specimens of goldsmiths' work, tapestries, slippers and shoes, swords, pikes, steel armour, etc., all of ancient date, that was ever made. 120 PAKIS, It was M. Alexandre du Sommerard, mem- ber of the Cour des Comptes, who made it a mu- seum for the archeological relics and curiosities, valuable furniture, and artistic rarities of the Middle Ages which he had been collecting dur- ing many years. On his death the Government bought this collection, and thus the "Musee des Thermes et de V Hotel de Cluny w was firmly established. Since then the number of artistic works that formed the nucleus of the museum has increased considerably. Researches made in various parts of Paris, the liberality of intel- ligent contributors, and State acquisitions have so enriched it that now the catalogue names over fifteen thousand artistic curiosities and valuable articles, most of which are unique of their kind in existence. Perhaps no other museum can boast so fine a lot of ivories, while it is particularly rich in sculptural monuments. The goldsmiths' art is also splendidly represented by some of the best specimens of orfevrerie that have ever been discovered. On account of the costliness of their material the works of gold and silver smiths have always been more menaced than those of other artists. What marvels have been destroyed in the cru- cible will never be known, but fortunately A MAGNIFICENT MUSEUM. 121 Mother Earth has been a faithful guardian of treasures intrusted to her keeping, and it is to her we owe our richest specimens of orfevrerie. It was from the earth that a labourer, working in a field near Rennes, in 1856, gathered up seven massive gold bracelets, two rings and some golden nuggets, all of barbarous grace and of undoubted antiquity, which are now in the Cluny Museum. Two years later, and strange to say in Spain, several crowns made by goldsmiths for the Merovingian kings were found, and these are also in this Museum. It is supposed that at the time when Spain was invaded by the French these precious crowns, abandoned in that country, were buried for safekeeping; but they appeared twelve or fourteen centuries afterwards to tell Parisians of the magnificence of those almost legendary sovereigns, and of how skilful were the men then employed in the art of working gold repousse, in cutting it into palm leaves, in en- riching it with sapphires, and in incrusting it with pearls. Another rare masterpiece at the Hotel de Cluny is an altar that was given by the Em- peror Henri II to the Cathedral of Bale in the beginning of the eleventh century. But it 122 PAEIS. would be impossible to even mention all tlie splendid things in this Museum, much less to describe them ; besides, when he goes to see the collection, the delight of the reader will be en- hanced by the fact that he is also visiting the best specimen of French architecture at the close of the fifteenth century now extant. At the time when this Hotel de Cluny was built, nearly every mansion inside or outside of Paris was a chateau, so to speak, fortified with small towers and machicolations ; but this tres gentil sejour was not erected that way. The small octagonal tower in the courtyard was not built for defense, but was to hold the stairs up which one now climbs to the upper floors. The platform at the summit of this small tower was never a guette, it was and is an open bal- cony. Charming, too, is the little chapel, orna- mented like a lady's boudoir, and richly worked up to its vaulted 'ceiling. The fagade of the building, the gables and the turrets of its dormer windows, the cut-stone balustrades at the base of the roof, the windows divided by stone mullions, all these things are fine, light, and delicate. Inside are large rooms with im- mense fireplaces ; while the staircase in the tourelle, up which we came, is spiral, en vis, as they said in those other days. QUEEN MARGOT'S GREAT LOVE. 123 In a small and rather obscure street the reader may still find what is left of the once luxurious Hotel de Sens, built by an archbishoj) of Paris on the site of the Royal palace of Saint Paul. An inscription on the fagade of the mansion informs the public that the building was con- structed toward the end of the year 1500 by order of Tristan de Salazar, a strange character who easily exchanged his mitre for a soldier's helmet. There are not many Paris- ians, much] less visitors from foreign lands, who know of the existence of this old Gothic chateau, with its two towers, its arched porches with flamboyant ogives, its feudal postern gate, where there still remain traces of the block for mounting on horseback, its sentinel towers, and its loopholes for archers and men-at-arms. During the sixteenth century the mansion remained Episcopal headquarters, and after- wards the woman whom the Bearnais re- pudiated (Queen Margot) went there to live, and to console herself for being abandoned. One day she fell in love with a handsome page named Julien, of whom the Vicomte de Ver- mond was so jealous that when he saw the Queen and page turn the corner of the rue after mass he shot Julien in the heart, and the boy 124 PARIS. died with a smile on his lips, his eyes fixed on those of the Queen, who swore neither to eat nor drink until she had obtained vengeance. The assassin was arrested, and beheaded some two days later in front of the hotel. The royal lady watched the execution from her window, and then in the evening left the house, never to return to it. During the Revolution the hotel was sold by the nation, and is now private property. Gradually the tenants became less illustrious, and at the end of the eighteenth century it was only a bureau for diligences to and from Lyons. Then it became an office for carters, next the abode of buyers of rabbit skins, and was until recently a candy factory. It is easily understood that all these transformations would add nothing to the beauty of the old building, for its inner walls were thrown down, reparations made, halls cut up, and in one way or another, it was badly disfigured ; but still there is a good deal left that is interesting. The exterior stands boldly as if guarding its past in a grand manner, calling up souvenirs of the long ago with a strange and characteristic youthfulnesSo On the front, a little above to the left of the principal door, a bullet is em- HOTELS DE SENS AND CAENA VALET. 125 bedded in the wall, with the inscription : u 29 July, 1830," around it in black letters. In spite of the mutilations which the building has undergone, it still contains many superb things. There is a square donjon in the courtyard with a beautiful staircase which is only equalled by that of the donjon of Jean Sans Peur, and a curious vestibule which has hardly suffered any harm at all. If the surrounding ruins and debris were cleared away and the whole in- telligently restored, the Hotel de Sens would be indeed a marvellous monument. The Hotel Carnavalet, another famous old ho- tel, is now a Museum. It was here that Madame de S^vigne lived for more than twenty years, and if the " belle marquise," for love of whose beautiful eyes her cousin, Bussy-Rabutin, died, could return to-day and see her old home, she would indeed be astonished to find the changes in the garden which she kept so beauti- fully neat and pretty, where she enjoyed the fresh air and heard the neighbouring Annonci- ades, those " pretty little girls in blue," sing- ing in the mornings. The Hotel derives its singular name, which, from its very strangeness, has been in popular use for more than three centuries, through all 126 PARIS. its many changes of owners and tenants, from its second owners, a Breton family called Ker- nevenoy, which by usage became turned into the more euphonious one of Carnavalet. The house was built in 1550 for "Squire Jacques de Ligneris," president of the Gallic church at the Council of Trent. Ligneris was a con- noisseur of art treasures, and at his request Jean Goujon sculptured some fine bas-reliefs on the front of his residence and cut out a superb group of the four seasons between the windows of the body of the principal building. In the seventeenth century the dwelling be- longed to the Argouzes, a parliamentary family from Normandy, and then to M. d'Aguerry, Counsellor to the parliament to Grenoble. That rich lawyer, who liked order and regular- ity, did not hesitate to touch up the works of Lescot, of Bullant, and of Jean Goujon. He called Mansard to his assistance, and that famous architect added a right wing, and exe- cuted bas-reliefs and allegories which do not show to advantage by the side of the four graceful sculptures of Goujon. Fortunately, a later possessor did away with these additions, and restored the body of the building to its original state, with its high MADAME DE SEVIGNE'S HOME. 127 roof, projecting ledges and mullioned windows. Having made these alterations, Perrin Dan- din, a native of Dauphiny, sought to sell his property at a good price, and as just at that time Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, Marquise de Sevigne, was looking for a house in the quarter of Marais to suit her economical tastes, yet large enough to accommodate her family and to enable her to receive, and where she would also have a quiet garden in which to think out those witty sayings with which she embellished her letters, she rented the Hotel Carnavalet, even though her daughter, the beautiful Mad- ame de Grignan, a lady of very little heart and as little wit, discovered in spite of her prudery, " that the mirrors were not sufficiently large nor clear enough, that she disliked antiquities, and that the rooms were inconvenient." However, Madame de Sevigne took the hotel conjointly with her son-in-law, M. de Grignan and the Abbe Coulanges, one of their most intimate friends, the marquise and her daughter occupy- ing all the first floor of the principal part of the building between the entrance courtyard and the garden ; the rooms of M. de Grignan were on the ground floor; while the apartment on the street, with its little staircase leading to 128 PARIS. the garden, was reserved for the Marquis de Sevigne, who had only to traverse the Place Royale in order to go and take supper with beautiful and naughty Ninon, who lived not very far away. It was in this fine hotel, old enough to be considered noble, and sufficiently modern to be elegant, that Madame the Mar- quise flirted with the gay butterfly courtiers without changing her widow's cap, and wrote those letters into which she threw all her heart and soul. At the commencement of the seventeenth century, a tax collector named Brunet du Bancy, or de Bondy, bought the hotel; he was followed by Durpes de St. Maur, and then by the Pommereul. The revolution installed a library in it; that was replaced by Napoleon with a school of roads and bridges; and in 1830 an art institution was established there under the direction of M. Verdot. In 1866 the city of Paris bought the hotel with the intention of turning it into a municipal museum, but the restorations begun three years later were interrupted by the war with Ger- many, and were not resumed until in 1888. The buildings form a square in the centre of which, and surrounded on four sides by the RICH AND CURIOUS THINGS. 129 Museum, is a garden that can be reached either from the older portion or by the Arc de Nazar- eth. The new galleries open on this garden, and are full of fragments and curiosities of dif- ferent old Paris buildings, rare portraits, pic- tures and engravings, one showing the Place Royale in the year 1612. There is also a can- vas, painted at the end of the sixteenth cen- tury, representing the Italian troupe then in Paris, with Isabelle Andreini for the star. She was held in such esteem by Henri IV that he gave her an autograph letter of recommenda- tion to the Governor of Lyons when she was about to visit that city. In this Musee Carnavalet one can see antique debris and statues of the Renaissance the same as in other museums, but one may also see such books, documents, monuments, and bric-a-brac as exist nowhere else perhaps, " There are per- sons," wrote Victor Hugo, " who can never see a wall, but they fall to wondering what may possibly be happening behind it." So, too, there are persons who are curious to see the cane that somebody has carried, or the chair on which some one used to sit, or the statue of this or that great individual, or the first books ever printed. If readers of this work have any of 130 PAEIS. these curiosities, the Carnavalet Museum will satisfy their every longing. There are engrav- ings, bibelots and other objects innumerable relating to Parisian history, a great deal of space being taken up with souvenirs of the Revolutionary period. The bonnets of Jacob- ins ; sabres worn by members of the Conven- tion; clocks with decimal hours; the official poster or notice of the execution of Louis XVI ; packs of cards where the kings are philoso- phers, the queens are seasons of the year, the knaves, elements, etc. ; and these with books, pictures, and engravings of that period are certainly of great interest. But there is also a second series in the valu- able collection of the Musee Carnavalet which is of equal if not superior importance. In it are placed all the antique objects which have been unearthed or discovered during the past twenty-five or thirty years, and the rooms are particularly rich in fragments from Gallo-Roman edifices that once stood in Paris. The garden back of it has also been put to use, and it over- flows with ancient fragments of monuments and houses, together with restitutions or repro- ductions of the attractive parts of many of the historical mansions which once upon a time DECAY OF OLD MANSIONS. 131 ornamented the capital. I say once upon a time, for, alas ! and because of lack of present care, the old mansions and palaces of Paris are fast disappearing. In a French comedy played at the Palais Royal theatre, say a dozen years ago, one of the characters, a prefet but recently named to office by the Government, is being told of the curiosities and wonders in his new department, and among these mention is made of an extinct volcano. " Comment," cried he, " ils avaient un volcan, et ils l'ont laisse etiendre ! " It looks very much as though in times to come, soon perhaps, the world will be exclaiming : " What ! the Parisians had the most beauti- ful, the most curious, the most interesting his- torical monuments of Europe, and yet they let them fall into ruins ! " CHAPTEE VIII. An immense and sumptuous edifice called the Louvre — A perfect specimen of mixed architecture — Its three distinct periods — The scene of many de- plorable incidents — How it became a great museum — A masterpiece of ancient statuary — Its preserva- tion during the Commune — The Tuileries and its Occupants — Anecdotes and incidents — Its orgies, its horrors, and its final destruction. Ok his return from Italy, where he had been spending some little while, Frangois I gave orders to pull down the donjon of the Louvre. It is said that the sight of the old and gloomy prison gave him such a chill whenever he passed it, as he did quite frequently, that he determined the feudal fortress should be demolished. Moreover, he was desirous of see- ing the Louvre enlarged and made grander in every way ; so he gave his orders that there should be built an immense and sumptuous edifice, something which would recall the fine palazzi of Italy, which would remind him of those marble villas ornamented with columns, THE LOUVKE. 133 statues, and pictures which lie had so much admired, and wherein he had been so happy in the year 1524. Architect Pierre Lescot drew up the plans, and the palace was built ; but what the King could not do was bring the sun and the sky of Florence to Paris, and so the New Louvre, very rich, very elegant, and interiorly very splendid, though undoubtedly very gray also, a bit too heavy, not at all gai in fact, — was for those kings who resided in it a place in which they were considerably ennuied, hence, it was never popular with them. That Louvre is an emormous pile of palaces of many periods, the building of which, begun nearly four hundred years ago, was completed only very recently, and yet, such as it now is, it passes for one of the very finest structures in the world. It shares with the Cathedral the honour of being the capital monument of Paris : Notre Dame for ye olden times, the Louvre for the more modern epoch. The treasures of art and science in it, the statuary, pictures, historical objects, and numerous models which it shelters all form the grandest Museum of France, as indeed it is one of the greatest on earth. For Saxon and Gothic architecture commend 134 PAKIS. me to England, but if one wants to look at a perfect specimen of the mixed sort, then one should go to the Louvre. Rich, varied, ele- gant, neither grand nor simple, both massive and ornamental, solid and full of grace — there is no other temple, or palace, or house that was ever built by human hands which is now standing that can be compared to it. And why called the Louvre ? No one knows. Some seek the etymology of the word in the Saxon hower, which meant castle; others, look for it in the old French word oiwre, now ceuvre, and say it was called Vouvre, the work par excellence ; while still others claim it to be the name of a nobleman who once lived there- abouts. What is certain is that the origin of this chateau goes back to a very remote period, as it was already in existence in the seventh century, when Dagobert was King. But it was not as yet a royal residence, and historians make no mention of it until it was repaired by Philippe Augustus, even though he did not include it within the wall that he built around the old Cite. The main building was then only two stories high, but Charles V raised it some thirty feet and crowned it with terraces and a number of towers. He also in- ITS THREE DISTINCT PERIODS. 135 eluded the Louvre in the new limits of Paris, and then Charles VI set it apart as a palace in which to house foreign Sovereigns who visited the capital. Both Emmanuel, Emperor of Constantinople, and Sigismond, Emperor of Germany, were thus lodged at the Louvre. French Kings had not yet made it their resi- dence, and Francis I, patron of all that was refined and liberal, was for pulling it down entirely in order to erect in its place a palace more worthy of a nation with whom a taste for art and letters was fast springing up. As it was, great artists were summoned to the court, the plans of Pierre Lescot were adopted, and the new palace — it is now called the old Louvre, to designate it from the constructions of subsequent reigns — was commenced. That edifice, even in the imperfect state in which it still was at the beginning of the Revolution, was the outcome of a series of nearly continu- ous works which were carried on from the reign of Francis I down to the beginning of the nineteenth century. We can to-day see in the execution of these embellishments or alterations three distinct periods : The first, that of Francis I, Henry II, and Louis XIII ; the second under Louis XIV ; 136 PARIS. the third under Louis XV. The portions which were erected by the first two named are those that form the angle of the courtyard from the pavilion in the centre of the southern fagade to the main pavilion surmounted by a dome that is opposite to the Colonnade. Louis XIII did not do much, but Catherine de Medicis began the great gallery. Henry III and Henry IV added but little to the building, although it was during their time that the palace was most constantly inhabited by French kings. However, the incomplete struc- tures which had extended over a space four times greater than had been originally intended, were joined to the remains of the old chateau. Then Louis XIV ordered the completion of the Louvre, and yet at the beginning of the nineteenth century the work was not wholly finished, although now, after more than two hundred and seventy years, the public enjoy the great palace in its present beautiful state. Strange to say, the very king who did most to build the elegant edifice was the first sovereign of France to desert the dwelling of the Valois and of the Bourbons, for the pestilential atmos- phere of Versailles. What a wonderful history could be written THE SCENE OP TRAGIC INCIDENTS. 137 of the Louvre if one were so minded and had the ability. Its history, like that of most royal abodes, recalls many deplorable incidents. It was in the secret chambers of the Louvre that Catherine de Medicis and her son Charles IX planned the murder of all the Huguenots. Of all the Protestants who were then in the Louvre — and in vain did they invoke the sanctity of treaties and the promises of a king — one only, a gentleman named Tejan, escaped death. The balcony still exists where Charles IX stood and took savage delight in seeing his guard slaughter the fleeing people, and from which he himself fired on his own subjects, as they hurried to and fro in horror and consternation, amidst the tolling of bells, the cries of the dying, and the yells of murderers. The apart- ment is still visible where the assassin Mauri vert attempted the life of Admiral De Coligni, and the room is still to be seen from which Henri of Navarre was dragged from the arms of his beautiful bride to the feet of the King to hear the dreadful alternative pronounced in the midst of zealots and assassins. Such were the horrors of which the Louvre was a witness. Two hundred and sixty years later it became '138 PARIS. once more, as in the time of Prevost Marcel, the conquest of the people ; but on that occa- sion they J_id not capture it until after suffer- ing severe losses in the Place St. Germain l'Auxerrois, from which the principal attack was made. There are some magnificent rooms in the old palace, notably the hall wherein Marie de Medi- cis gave her splendid f#tes, the hall where Henry IV was married to Marguerite of Valois, the one where Moliere first played his come- dies, and the one in which the French Insti- tute, when the Diderots, the BufFons, the Voltaires, and the Marmontels were among its members, held its sittings. The exhibition of works by living artists known as the Salon used to be held in the Louvre every two years, in the months of August and September. Many celebrated French painters were gratui- tously lodged in the palace, until Napoleon I dislodged them in order to make place for the spoils that his army was bringing back from conquered countries. It was he who really started the great Temple of Fine Arts to which subjugated empires and kingdoms contributed, and which has since become the admiration of the world. After his downfall the museum THE VENUS DE MILO. 139 was stripped of many of its riches, and these were restored to their former owners ; but in course of time the vacancies thus created were filled by the productions of French painters and sculptors who had been dead more than ten years, by purchasers abroad, or by gifts to the nation, until now it is again the fine collection and museum so renowned everywhere. One of the greatest masterpieces which the Louvre shelters is the Venus de Milo. It has been in the Louvre since 1821, when it was presented to Louis XVIII, by the French Am- bassador at Constantinople, who purchased it from some peasants who found it on their farm in the island of Milos. The arrival of this Venus in Paris was an event that aroused a great deal of interest, for her fame as the finest known specimen of antique art had preceded her, and it so happened that she arrived on the day fixed for the re-opening of Parliament. That cere- mony took place in the hall of the Louvre, now known as the Salle Lacaze, to which place the king was drawn in a chair that ran on wheels. The unpacked statue stood in one of the galler- ies through which the monarch passed. He looked at it for awhile, then turning to his courtiers, said: 140 PARIS. u It really is a very fine masterpiece. The place for it is the Museum of the Louvre. See to it that it is put there immediately." In those days Royal Museum managers had the habit of restoring all works of art that came into their possession in any way damaged, and too often this was done in a manner which showed little respect for the laws of aesthetics or for rules of proportion. When the Yenus de Milo was received it was in several pieces, and certain portions, notably the arms, were missing. In order to restore it, it was neces- sary to decide what had been the original posi- tion of these arms, and this gave rise to much discussion among sculptures and archaeologists. One of the conservators of the Museum, an old gentleman named Quincy, who was considered good authority in such matters, expressed the belief that this Venus had been part of a group. He cited several well-known pieces of antique sculpture in which Mars and Venus are repre- sented standing side by side, and he pointed out the fact that the face was turned to the left, which, he held, showed she was looking at some one in that direction. This theory was combated by others, one man insisting that as the trunk of the statue was inclined toward the THE VENUS DE MILO. PEESERVED DURING THE COMMUNE. 141 right, it was impossible that there could be an- other figure on the left of it. As these two conservators were unable to agree as to how the statue should be restored, the matter was re- ferred to the King who said : " Well, gentlemen, suppose you do nothing whatever to it." Thus it came about that this incomparable work of art escaped further in- juries at the hand of man. When in 1870 it became evident that Paris would have to stand a siege and possible bom- bardment by the Germans, the conservators of the Louvre museum had the Venus de Milo taken down, and she was hidden in one of the cellars at police headquarters. There she re- mained, covered with barrels, empty sacks, broken boards, street sweepings and other debris through the war and the Commune. When taken back to the Louvre it was noticed that dampness had softened the plaster with which the pieces had been put together fifty years before, and examination showed that the bend of the figure toward the right was due to a wooden wedge inserted between the upper and the lower fragments. This wedge was removed, the two portions were placed in their natural position, and the figure gained immensely in grace and beauty. 142 PARIS, It is believed that the museum of the Louvre contains to-day the most splendid collection of art treasures of every kind that is to be found under a single roof anywhere in the world. One may walk through its rooms and galleries day after day, for weeks and months even, and still be sure of finding something new and worthy of one's attention and study at each visit. "The Louvre is too small for two Courts," said Catherine de Medicis, after the death of her husband, Henri II. " I will make of it a palace worthy of Francois II, and erect an- other close by which will serve the Queen Mother. So she gave orders for building the Tuileries, the work was pushed forward with great rapidity, and in 1566 Catherine installed herself in the new palace. It was at the Tuil- eries that she used to hold her interviews with the astrologer Ruggiere, in whose predictions she had implicit faith. After her death her son, the Duke of Anjou, lived there, and he still retained the place as his private palace when he came to the throne as Henri III. It was in the Tuileries that a band of dissolute young courtiers indulged in those shameful org- ies which so stained the reign of the last of the ORGIES AT THE TUILERIES. 143 Valois. Henri III was assassinated by Jac- ques Clement, the Bourbon line succeeded in the person of Henri IV, who apostacised from the Protestant religion to secure a kingdom ; and when Ravaillac had done away with that gallant king, young Louis XIII occupied the Tuileries. The child king had been married to Anne of Austria, but they were not allowed to live together, still she was permitted to go to the Tuileries occasionally to play in the garden with her little husband. He had been married twenty-seven years before he gave an heir to France. When Louis XIV became king, Countess Soissons lived for awhile at the Tuil- eries; she gave some notorious midnight sup- pers, and invented the medianoche, an orgie which included every excess that it was possi- ble for the human mind to think of. The " Sun King," as Louis XIV was called, then built the Chateau of Versailles, after tiring of the Chateau of St. Germain, and seldom went to Paris ; but the Tuileries still remained the scene of gay doings. One such event was the marriage of the king's brother, Philippe of Or- leans, with Henriette of England. That Orleans prince was a man of uncommonly low tastes ; when his wife died, he moved to the 144 PARIS, Palais Royal and his orgies there are unmen- tionable. During his minority Louis XV re- sided at the Tuileries, but he too abandoned it for Versailles ; the next occupant was the witty and gallant Abbe de Bernis. One night the Grand Opera, then located in the Palais Royal, was burned out, and the next day the stage was transferred to the Tuileries. That was in 1753, and the Opera remained there until 1770. In October, 1790, a mob of women forced their way into the courtyard of the Tuileries to have an explanation with General de Lafayette, who had made it the headquarters of the Guard National. Fears for the Royal family induced him to abandon the palace for Versailles, and thither the mob followed. It compelled Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette to return to Paris. At the time the mob had their fight with the Swiss guard a part of the palace took fire and burned down. On the 27th of August, 1792, a festival in honour of the victory of the people was celebrated within its blackened and blood- stained walls. The palace was then left open and all were at liberty to wander through its deserted halls. In December of that year Louis XVI entered the Tuileries for the last time, a prisoner. The building was occupied for a BKILLIANT UNDER NAPOLEON. 145 short while by the Directoire, then Bonaparte as First Consul restored the Tuileries to a courtly and splendid era. Never was the palace more brilliant than during the First Empire, when there reigned a luxury, a brilliancy, and a beauty without pre- cedent in its history. But Napoleon's occu- pancy of the Tuileries ended when he was exiled to Elba; for on his return from that island he resided in the ^lysee. After Water- loo, Louis XVIII once more occupied the Tuileries ; he was succeeded by Charles X, and he in turn by Louis Philippe. In 1848 the " Citizen King," was driven out of France, and the people retook possession of the Tuileries. Insurgent after insurgent rushed into the house to seat himself on the throne, shouting mean- while " Vive la Bepublique ! " Very little damage was done to the palace, however, and it was soon converted into a hospital. When Prince Louis Napoleon was elected President of the Second Republic, he also went to reside at the ^lysee, but he soon left that mansion for the Tuileries as Emperor. Napo- leon III and Mademoiselle Eugenie de Montijo were married in the Tuileries, although the religious ceremony was celebrated the next day 146 PARIS, at Notre Dame. It % was in the Tuileries that nearly all the State ceremonies of the Second Empire took place, and among the guests of that palace may be mentioned Queen Victoria and her husband, Prince Albert. It was there that an heir to the Imperial throne was born ; and it was from thence that the Empress Eugenie escaped in a public hack and rode to the private residence of an American dentist who afterward saw her safely out of France and into England. During the siege of Paris by the Germans the Tuileries palace was a hospital, and then one day, when the troops of Versailles penetrated into the capital, the Communists burned it down, nothing being left of the structure but a heap of smoking and unsightly ruins. In July, 1882, the French Parliament appropriated ten thousand dollars to be expended in removing these ruins, and so well was this work done that to-day not one stone or brick is left stand- ing upon another of the famous palace. CHAPTEE IX. The Hotel des Tournelles — Mansion wherein Louis XII died — Once it was both citadel and royal residence — A fatal tilting tournament — The chateau pulled down by a queen's command — Origin of the Place Royale — Duelling during the time of Cardinal Kichelieu — A famous neighbourhood — An expen- sive beauty and a poor poet's wife — The rendez- vous of gaiety and diplomacy — Anecdote of a love letter — The best French ever spoken — An ex- quisite Marchioness — The old mansion of de La- moignon. The fourteenth century was distinguished in Paris by the imposing order of its military con- structions; the fifteenth and sixteenth, by the boldness and elegance of their religious and civil edifices. It was during this latter period that Gothic architecture, so ingenious in its con- ceptions, so minutely exquisite in its details, made its brilliant effects the best known. Such a structure was the Hotel des Tournelles, situ- ate vis-a-vis to the Palais St. Paul, and innu- merable were the scandalous gallantries and saturnalia accomplished in that mansion. Pierre 148 PARIS. d'Orgemont, Chancellor of France, erected the building in 1390, his son sold the place to the Duke de Berri, brother of Charles V, for four- teen thousand golden ecus, in turn the Duke traded it to the Duke of Orleans for some other property, and then, in 1417, the king became its owner. Charles VI, during his insanity, and the Duke of Bedford, regent in France for the King of England, resided at the Hotel des Tournelles. Whenever he was in Paris Louis XI, occupied it, and it was there that Louis XII breathed his last. The square of this hotel also con- tained the Marche aux Chevaux, which in 1578 was the scene of a violent struggle between the minions of Henri III and the favorites of the Duke de Guise. Both these establishments, house of the king and horse market, were finally made to give way for the Place Roy ale ; but before that, the mansion was at once a citadel and a royal residence, a prison and a menagerie. The Tour de Nesle, of odious memory, was never worse than the Hotel des Tournelles. Parisians hardly dared to lift their eyes and look at its windows while Bedford resided there ; and when the English had been driven out of France, King Charles VII planted his triumphant banner within its parlours. THE HOTEL DES TOURNELLES. 149 Frangois I covered its walls with master- pieces of Italian art, and filled its rooms with the noise of festivals. Poetry and love en- tered into Paris with " le roi chevalier,," En- vious of the Medicis at Florence and of the Pope at Rome, Frangois founded the College of France, and made the already old Louvre a fit place of sojourn for a guest who bore the title of Emperor and the name of Charles Quint. The Imprimerie Royale, or Royal Printing office, was established and its work put in charge of Robert Estienne ; and it must have been a fine sight when the brilliant king went to call on the modest printer in the latter's own house. Like a sovereign, the Duchess d Etampes reigned at the Hotel des Tournelles : le Prima- tice, Leonardo da Vinci and Andrea del Sarto lodged there when they deigned to visit Paris ; and it was there that Diane de Poitiers shone in all her glory. Under Henri II the Chateau of Tournelles displayed extraordinary splendour, and even Guise and the Montmorenci joined with the crowd who paid court to the young and pas- sionate sovereign. It was a nightly, almost an hourly gathering of gallant gentil hommes and 150 PARIS. belles dames which enlivened the Court of his Royal Majesty. It was also a revolution in history, so to speak, for ever since the days of conquest and of pleasure had set in, history had been taking on quite a new form. It had become less serious, less sententious, and was seeking among the smallest causes to explain the greatest purposes. But if history was feel- ing this change, the more reason why art and poetry and love should admire the change thus produced. It would be easy to write of the statuary which was then introduced from Italy, or chiselled in France; of orangeries magnificent with flowers, fruits and sparkling waters; of famous cooks, and budding poets, of the profu- sion of diamonds and pearls, of laces and vel- vets, of ermine and embroidery ; of tournaments at wit and gallantry in honour of those beauti- ful women, and of those who owned all this wealth. Towards the end of June, 1559 ? a series of great festivals were given in Paris on the occa- sion of the marriage of Isabelle of France to Philip II of Spain. Among the entertain- ments a tournament was held in front of the Hotel des Tournelles, which lasted four days. On the fourth day the king took it into his THE PLACE EOYA-L. 151 head to have a tilt with Count Montgomery, Captain of the Scottish Guards, who tried to avoid the honour thus thrust on him. Henri II wore the colours of Diane de Poitiers, be- lieving that they would render him invulnera- ble. At the first charge Montgomery's lance passed through an opening in the King's visor, penetrated one eye, and the wound proved mortal. His widow, Catherine de Medicis, at once left the Palace of Tournelles and ordered its demolition. When the house had been pulled down, the site was soon covered with hovels of every kind, the resort of the lowest and most dangerous classes in the capital. Nu- merous crimes were committed in that neigh- bourhood ; and then while Henri IV was still sorrowing over the sudden death of beautiful Gabrielle d'Estrees, Sully suggested the turn- ing of this site into a public square, and this plan, finally adopted in 1605 was the origin of the Place Roy ale. The assassination of Henri IV prevented his seeing the completion of this project, but his instructions were faithfully carried out. He had already built a certain number of the houses which surround the vast Court, while sev- eral others were being erected by private per- 152 PAKIS. sons to whom lie sold lots fronting on the square. The Place Royale was inaugurated in March, 1612, by a tilting tournament in the presence of Marie de Medicis, then Queen Regent, and twenty thousand spectators, and it at once became a fashionable neighbourhood. The houses round about were occupied by nobles and princes, the quarter became known as the " Marais," and splendid mansions, occupied either by members of the aristocracy, or by the wealthy middle classes — the haute bourgeoisie as they were called — were erected in that part of town. The exterior of the houses of the Place Royale are to-day precisely what they were at the commencement of the seventeenth century, while in the Marais there are still stately old mansions which belonged to that and the succeeding century. Indeed, here and there one could not very long ago run across old houses thereabouts that dated from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, as for in- stance the Hotel de St. Paul, the Hotel de Savoisi, Hotel d'Angouleme, etc. There is a bijou of a tourelle at the corner of the Rues Francs-Bourgeois and Vieille-du-Temple, which used to ornament the Hotel Barbette, a rich habitation discreetly placed in a garden near AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR. 153 the old ramparts and wherein the beautiful Queen Isabelle resided while her mad husband was pining away in the Royal Hotel of Tour- nelles, and from whence the thoughtless and prodigal Louis of Orleans went the night when the servants of Duke Jean Sans Peur assassinated him. During the reign of Louis XIII the Place Roy ale was the scene of an event which made a great stir in those days. In 1624 the Count de Boutteville, having killed the Count de Thorigny in an affair of honour, was condemned to be hung for violation of Richelieu's ordi- nance against duelling. He managed to es- cape, went to Brussels, and received a chal- lenge from the Marquis de Beuvron, who had resolved to avenge the death of Thorigny. Notwithstanding the sentence that hung over his head, Boutteville returned to Paris, and in the presence of more than a thousand specta- tors he and Beuvron met in the Place Royale. After a few passes with their swords the two principals disarmed each other by arrangement and shook hands; but while they were still talking over their duel their seconds continued the fight, and one of the latter was killed. The three others attempted to escape, were 154 PARIS, captured, and Count de Boutteville and one of his seconds, Count de Chapelles, were beheaded on the Place de Greve. The Baron de Chantal, who had furnished them with horses, was also obliged to fly, leaving behind him a little daughter born in the Place Royale. Later, she become the celebrated Madame de Sevigne, whom I have already spoken of. Some of these days, when the reader is walking across the sonorous flagstones of the Place Royale, perhaps he will in imagination hear the footsteps of the heroes and heroines of those distant times ; will perhaps find him- self wondering why the servants of Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, or of Gabrielle d'Estrees, or of Madame de Montespan, or of La Tremouille have not lit torches to brighten the way of their mistresses or their masters, and why the some- time mansions which still surround the statue and the silent square, are all so dark and still. Their names are not all known, but one house was occupied by the Rohans, another by the Rotrous, a third by Marion de Lorme, etc. Not very many years ago Mademoiselle Rachel, a great French actress, rented an apartment in the old Hotel Rohan-Chabot, and it was there that her furniture and her wardrobe were all A POOR POET'S WIFE. 155 put on exhibition, to the great enjoyment of Parisians, after her death in 1858. The gros peches of that new quarter were not committed by de Lorme alone, however ; Ninon de PEnclos was also one of the beauties of Satan then, though happily the seductive talents of these two women were fairly well balanced by the serious and worthy Mile, d' Aubigny, who called herself Madame Scarron, of attractive, even royal memory. Better known perhaps, as Madame de Maintenon, that handsome woman used to demurely walk beside the sedan chair which carried her invalid hus- band in the Place Royale, little dreaming the day would come when she, a poor poet's wife, would herself be carried in a sedan chair in the presence of a great army, and escorted by his Majesty Louis XIV, now her royal husband. Marion de Lorme, who lived at No. 9 of the Place Royale, was the most expensive beauty in Paris. One day when Cardinal Richelieu had the audacity to offer her one thousand pistoles for a few minutes' private conversation she -flung them back at him contemptuously. Still she did not always sell her favours : she offered them to Monsieur de Chavagnac, who was a Huguenot, on the simple condition that he would become a Catholic ; but he refused. 156 PARIS. One may still further be able to judge of the social importance of the Place Roy ale in those days when informed that not a prince or a beau esprit under Louis XIV ever missed going to that rendezvous of gaiety and diplom- acy. Madame de Lafayette, the Duke de La Rochefoucauld, the Duchess de Lesdiguieres, the Prince de Conde, Moliere, St. Vincent de Paule, the great Corneille and his brother Thomas, La Fontaine, the Duke de Montpensier Monsieur de Cinq-Mars, who not else among the gallants, the braves, and the beauties of that remarkable period were then its frequenters. Even "Son Eminence, Monseigneur le Car- dinal," 1 resting on a red litter, was often brought in to one of the salons, for he too resided in the Place Royale until he built his own palace further to the west of town. It is easy to recall the names of those who frequented its arcaded houses during those two long reigns ; that of poor Marcelle, for instance, a beautiful demoiselle who danced splendidly, knew how to compose and play music, could write poetry, and who when abandoned by Monsieur de Guise, made a chanson to her fleeting lover which was soon being sung h; 1 Cardinal Richelieu. THE KENDEZVOUS OF GAIETY. 157 every house around the square. There was the Constable de Luynes, a man who stole his fortune and was himself a coward ; Marechal d'Estrees, the worthy brother of six sisters, one of whom was " la belle Gabrielle " ; Chancel- lor de Bellievre, who was never known to be angry or even, vexed in all his life ; Madame de Puysieux, whose comic songs used to make Cardi- nal Richelieu shriek with laughter ; the Princes of Orange, the Duke de Mayenne, the Marechal de Breze, whose pleasure it was to obey his own servants ; the Marechal de la Meilleraie, a wonderful besieger of cities, but who knew nothing else whatever; and the King, Louis XIII, bien entendu. He was then a fine look- ing man who sat a horse well, and knew how to put an army in the field. His amours were strange enough, but he had his virtues. To a young woman, the daughter of a Duke, who resisted his attack he sent ten-thousand golden ecus. Another day, Mademoiselle d'Hautefort hid a note which she had received in her bosom, and the King wanted it. So he took up a pair of tongs that stood at the fireplace, wiped them carefully with his lace handkerchief, and used them to lift out the suspected hillet-doiix. And the beautiful Marquise de Eambouillet — it 158 PARIS. would hardly be polite to leave her unmentioned, as she certainly played a prominent role in this monde a part which was already called le beau monde. Madame de Rambouillet was a woman of exquisite taste, who possessed all the elegances of her charming sex. She, and she alone, produced a revolution in the art of arrang- ing the interior of a house, and she was her own architect of the mansion which she built in that quarter of Paris. From it when finished, radiated health and good humour, and it was there that that great power called la causerie, was first established. The Marechal de Grammont was one among a few of this chosen society, and he was a great story teller ; Gombaut the poet, the poor Queen of Poland, and the Marechal de Bassompierre, said to be the wittiest man at court, were there. So too was Pastal, as were Madame de Jeaucourt, most beautiful among women, as she was also a model mother, Cardinal de Retz, Madame de Corneul, etc. And we must not leave the neighbourhood of the Place Royale as it was in the olden days, without again giving a fleeting thought to the mansion from whence came forth, fully armed and equipped to conquer, the best French ever spoken in France. HOTEL DE LAMOIGNON. 159 Not far from the Place Royale, near a small quadrangular tower at tlie corner of tlie Rues Pavee and des Francs-Bourgeois, which stands on three united arches so as to form a cul de lampe, and looks, so to speak, like a sentinel box suspended there especially to overlook the square, is a plate with this inscription : " Gruil- laume de Lamoignon, Premier President du Parliament de Pairs, 1658." The ground on which his mansion was built originally formed a part of a vegetable garden, called " coulture Ste Catherine," because it belonged to the Priory of Ste Catherine du Val des Ecoliers, no trace of which remains now, however, the ground being covered by the little market of the Rue d'Ormesson. Toward 1550, Henri II came into possession of this property, and constructed there a resi- dence for his daughter, Diana of France, whose mother was believed to have been Diane de Poitiers. Souvenirs of that princess still exist in the " D's," which crown the -windows, also in the heads of dogs and stags, and in the horns and crosses in the arches to the right and left of the grand hall. It was next occupied by Charles of Yalois, natural son of Charles IX, and who, when his servants demanded 160 PAEIS. their wages, replied : " You must look out for yourselves ; there are four streets in front of the Hotel (T Angouleme ; it is a capital neigh- bourhood; now profit by it." After a while the hotel came into possession of William de Lamoignon, the noblest and most illustrious of tenants it ever had, and then the house returned to its pristine glory and grandeur. The Lamoignons were magistrates for several generations, and they left a good record, but the last of the family who occupied the mansion was beheaded in 1794. Since then the mansion has undergone the fate of most grand habitations, . and has become the scene of various industries. A hosier now has his abode there ; part of it is occupied by an optician; a druggist's shop is on the ground floor; and a Monsieur Piperaud keeps a modest school for boys in one of the upper rooms. CHAPTER X. A world by itself in Paris — The Cite, the Universite and the Ville — Each a separate town or division — The days of Pierre Abailard — Upholding the phil- osophy of Aristotle — Letters, art, and theology — The work consecrated by Pope Urbain — Fighting students and peaceful citizens — Seeking knowledge while living in the open streets — One hundred thousand pupils — The faculty and its rules — Anecdote of Peter the Great — Power of the Sor- bonne — Its theology and its crimes — The new University — Official ceremony of 1885 — The Col- lege of France — A grand Institution of human knowledge — Free System of Education and open to everybody. In the fifteenth century Paris was divided into three distinct towns, the Cite, the Univer- sity and the Ville, so to speak. The Cite oc- cupied the island; the town extended along the right shore of the Seine above and below the island; the University covered the plain and hills on the left of the river. Each of these divisions was a town h part, and each had its particular aspect. The Cite was rich- 162 PAKIS, est in churches, the Ville was richest in palaces, the Universite was richest in colleges. Most of the schools, colleges and sanctuaries of the ancient university were enclosed in a space of country bounded by the Rues Mathurins, de la Harpe, des Gres and Saint Jacques. Almost all the houses have long since disappeared, but there are enough of fragments still standing to give that part of the Quartier Latin a singular physiognomy. There is a certain hotel garni, or cheap lodging-house, which was once a part of a college from whose window poor Pierre Ramus, the philosopher and grammarian, was thrown and killed the night of St. Bartholo- mew. A few historians have credited Charle- magne with founding the University of Paris, which- seems to be an error, however. It is true the king who gave his name to the Car- lovingian dynasty tried during the whole of his glorious reign to make letters and the sciences flourish in his states. He covered the newly born schools of Chalons and Tours with his distinguished protection, but it is doubtful if he established or supported a single public school at Paris. The first persons to enter on the work of instruction in the capital were two monks from THE WORK OF THE TEACHER. 163 Saint Germain d'Auxerre named Rem! and Hucbald de Saint- Amand who opened a dia- lectic and theological class. These two were so successful that other professors came to Paris and soon their schools became famed through- out Europe. The names of Guillaume de Champeaux, of Pierre Abailard, of Robert de Melun, of Joscelin, of Pierre Lombard, etc., attracted so many students from every country in Europe to Paris that there were not enough houses to accommodate them, and they were compelled to bivouac in the suburbs like soldiers. Even the masters were obliged sometimes to give their lessons out of doors, and chroniclers inform us that Abailard, who was always followed by three thousand to four thousand disciples, established his camp on the summit of Mount Saint Genevieve, or out on the Pre aux Clercs. That was the epoch when the philosophy of Aristotle was all the rage in Paris, and the opinions of the great Stagirites, even the most erroneous or the most curious, were considered as articles of faith in all the colleges of the University. This frenzy, this delirium was not for a day or a year only ; during seven or eight centuries the work of Aristotle was con- 164 PAEIS. sidered that of an angel, winch could not be touched or changed without committing sacri- lege ; and the wise but unfortunate Ramus just now referred to, was assassinated for hav- ing publicly declared " que tout ce qu'Aristole a enseigne n'est quefausete et chimere." But more remarkable still, the Parliament of Paris, the Parliament of Louis XIV, in the century of Pascal, and of Cornielle, assembled one day at the request of the Sorbonne and condemned to banishment three chemists who had sup- ported a thesis against Aristotle, adding that thereafter all those who presumed to attack the doctrines of that Greek philosopher would be put to death. At the beginning of the thirteenth century, there was only one University in the whole world where letters and the arts were taught the same as theology, and it was located in the French capital. This was why young men eager to be instructed went to Paris from Germany, from Italy, from everywhere throughout the then civilised countries, includ- ing England. Already Gerbert, Fulherf, and Abailard had become famous ; while the glory of the Cloitre Notre Dame had attracted clercs from nearly every nation around, when Phil- CONSECRATED BY THE POPE. 165 ippe Augustus issued an order, dated at Bethisy, in 1200, establishing the University of Paris with all its privileges. In 1208 Pope Innocent III, and then in 1261, Pope Urbain IV, gave consecration to this work. We may perhaps imagine the appearance of the clercs of those other days, poorly dressed as a rule, and nearly always noisy, going from the cloisters of Saint Victor and of Notre Dame up to the mountain of Sainte Genevieve ; and we may also recall the picturesque Paris of Philippe Augustus and of Saint Louis as the Paris of the truauds, the framework of which is so masterly drawn by Victor Hugo, if we would know the clercs as they really were. The good bourgeois whose nights these stu- dents used to disturb so often, and the watch which they so frequently put to rout, could hardly have imagined that the time would come when their unwelcome visitors from the University would be completely pardoned; for these same students who passed with such astonishing quickness from prayers to rowdi- ness from mysticism to revolt, were the pioneers who opened to human thought new roads to unexpected horizons. And as the whole of Europe thus hurried to 166 PARIS, Paris in search of more light, so were the stu- dents divided into " nations," each directed by a " Procurator," with its masters and scholars under the controlling hand of a rector. Thus there were the " trbs honorable " nation of France, the " trls fidlle " nation of Picardy, the " tr s es venerable " nation of Normandy, and, during the one hundred years war, the " tr s es constante " nation of Germany, which had re- placed the nation of England. There was no hesitation about giving themselves pompous titles at the University ; but those who indulged in unpleasant words against Faculty and stu- dents also knew how to invent striking terms, and there was no thought of " honor ables" or "venerables" or " constantes " when it came to quarrelling. Then the French were de- nounced as u trls orgueilleux" the Picards as " tr s es lourd" the Normans as " tr£s vantard" the English as " trbs fourbe ," and the Ger- mans as " tres zvrogne" even " tr s es mal vetu" in some instances. These amenities were of course launched forth as a sort of de- fiance and with very loud voices, in the street, or wherever the clashing clans happened to meet; sometimes these meetings turned out to be Homeric battles, where more than one POVEETY AND PRIDE. 167 theologian of the future found himself " knocked out" early in the scrimmage. The rector was supposed to know nothing of all this so long as the noise of strife was not so loud as to prevent the king from sleeping; for the Church knew very well that even fighting students would some day settle down to become good preachers, hence moderation was observed whenever these bouts between clercs and cits were brought to the attention of the Procurators. Truly it was a world by itself this Univer- sity of Paris with its many pupils, and no wonder the students would recognise no other laws than those which they or their "masters " had created, for they really lived quite apart from society. Usually, and as a rule, the students were as poor as Job ; the Spanish bachelor who still goes about from town to town with a spoon and a fork stuck in his hat is a grand seigneur when compared with those poor clercs of Paris ; while as for " working their way through," as so many sensible and serious young Ameri- cans are doing at this or that college or uni- versity, such a thing would have been utterly impossible at the Paris University of seven PARIS, hundred or eight hundred years ago. Those students lived in miserable lodgings; very often, not having the wherewithal to pay for lodgings, they were forced to quit its shelter and seek a night's rest in the fields, with the sky and the stars as their only cover. That was all very well until winter came, and snow had covered the meadows, and the river was frozen over. It was not long however, until congregations, towns, charitable Princes, or Bishops who were also rich lords, began to occupy them- selves with this pitiful state of affairs, and they undertook to assure at least a bed, if not a home to the poor scholars. Do not imagine however, that luxury was anywhere noticeable in such shelters. Misery still reigned every- where; not a dismal misery, but a misery spangled with laughter, with gay propos, the secrets of which were never known to the public, because one would have to be of the caeriaculum at least to know what was going on within the limits of the University and the Sorbonne, to know how to laugh, fight and be gay while studying hard and while half starving. And when in their worst days u Messieurs les Clercs " went h la pitance, SQUATTING IN STRAW. 169 that is to say, to seek for body nourishment, 1 they were glad to accept left-over vegetables on the Place Maubert, or broken bread and bits of weak soup now and then in payment of a prayer or of a chanson. Back yonder in the thirteenth century they did not even have benches ; and later, when it was proposed to put in stone seats, Cardinal d'Estouteville who had studied on straw, op- posed it with might and main because it would encourage sybaritism. He gained his cause, and the straw remained. The scholars, grouped around masters, frequently younger than them- selves — the master, dressed in a black robe and wearing a cowl or hood, respectable while in class, but perhaps quite as lively as his pupils at other moments — squatted in this straw and thus inhaled the knowledge of that period. There is to-day an old street in Paris called the Rue du Fouarre, that is to say, the street of straw, and that name was attached to it in the old University days. Teaching still goes on in the Eue du Fouarre, but there is no longer straw in its schoolrooms. But primitive in- stallation did not prevent the cultivation of 1 The Principal and the Regents saw to it that their minds and souls were fed. 170 PARIS. those letters and that grammar which prepared minds with the special sophistry of disputed doctrines, and which finished by giving birth in the " Facultes des Arts "to an impertinent tendency toward a scepticism that the theologi- cal faculty could hardly control — with loving energy, however. All the hours of the many students were counted, and it would be a great mistake to suppose that they passed their time in outdoor mischief. They had their lessons " ordinaires " given by the licentiates and the doctors, and their lessons " extraordinaires" at which the bachelors took part ; but if most of the classes began work at daybreak, very likely it was be- cause the poor pupils were glad to quit their miserable beds for the college straw. It was also in the thirteenth century when a reunion of those studies or faculties were desig- nated for the first time under the name of Universite. But while thus organising hier- archically, the University also determined to maintain its civil corporation, and the masters succeeded in obtaining from the king some special franchises, among others the freedom of students from ordinary jurisdiction; so that, under all circumstances, they could only be tried BEGGING ABOUT THE STRBTS; 171 and judged in accordance with canonical law by the Ecclesiastical tribune of the place where they were studying. One can readily understand the power with which a population of one hundred thousand young men in a city of the Middle Ages was thus armed. They formed but one body, hav- ing the same occupations, the same tastes, the same habits, independent by character and by position, passionate, impatient against all author- ity, and of course natural enemies of the bour- geois who had a good fire, a good bed, and a good table, while they, depending mainly on the two sous per week which had been decreed to them by Saint Louis, went begging in the streets accompanied by cagons and bohemiens. It must indeed have been a curious institu- tion, the University of Paris in the Middle Ages ! There is something of the same kind of independence, the same sort of passion and im- patience, in that part of the capital to-day, and yet the noisy conduct of the students of the Latin Quarter now is but a pale reflect of the actions on the Pre aux Clercs — orgies accessible only to the initiated, and into which none but those who knew the shibboleth dared to ven- ture. 172 PARIS. " It was the poor," says an ancient author, " whom Robert Sorbonne intended to aid," and poverty was undoubtedly the main attribute of the Sorbonne in its early days. For a very long time it was really poor, and even after the liberalities of Cardinal Richelieu had enriched it, it retained the title of " poor " as among the noblest of its titles of nobility. From the be- ginning doctors, bachelors, beneficiaries and non- beneficiaries, as well as all poor students, were admitted free to the college of the Sorbonne. They were designated as guests or as associates, and they were received without regard to the country from whence they came. Later the associate beneficiaries took the title of Docteurs, or Bacheliers de la Maison et Societe de Sor- bonne, while the others were simply called Bacheliers de la Maison de Sorbonne. The founder had directed its first buildings in the Rue Coupe-Gorge, afterwards called the Rue des Deux Portes. Soon all the other houses and land on the street as far as the Rue des Poirees were purchased and occupied. The chapel that had been dedicated to the Virgin, and which was rebuilt in 1326, was in the Rue des Cordiers. This college was falling into ruins when AN EMINENT CARDINAL. 173 Cardinal Richelieu, who had studied theology there, and who was its proviseur, undertook to build it on a new plan. The Archbishop of Rouen laid the first stone of the grand salle in 1627, and on May 15, 1633, the Cardinal himself laid the first stone of the church which still exists and which was not completed until 1653. As may be supposed his Eminence did not fail to place inscriptions on it calculated to satisfy his vanity, and which even his un- doubted merit will hardly prove excuse for. Such for instance as the one that still sur- mounts the door of the church. DEO OPT. MAX-ARMAJ5TDUS, CARDINALIS DE RICHELIEU. Still one cannot too highly admire the fine proportions that exist between the various parts of the building. Everything is well co- ordinated ; the points of view are so well selected that, combining their mutual beauties, they form a harmonious whole. The dome which crowns the church is not very high ; it has four towers ornamented by statues with bands of gilded lead, and is surmounted by a gold cross which forms the crowning point of the building. 174 PAKIS. Inside the church may still be seen a tomb of Richelieu, in white marble, which was erected in 1694. At the time of the Revolu- tion it was removed to a Museum, where it remained until 1814, when it was carried back to the church. It was at the sight of this monument that Peter the Great exclaimed : " Oh, great man ! if you were only alive I would give you one-half of my Empire to teach me how to govern the other half." The Abbe Duvernet gives the following account of how the degree of Doctor was to be obtained in his day at the Sorbonne. " It was necessary to have studied at the college, and for a period of ten years, to have argued, dis- puted and delivered in public certain theses which were divided into minor, greetor, saba- tine, tentative and into the little and the great sorbonique. In this last the candidate for the degree of doctor had, without eating or drink- ing or leaving his place, to sustain and repel" the attacks of twenty assailants called ergo- teurs, who, relieving each other every half hour, argued with him from six o'clock A. m. to seven p. m." If we now proceed to examine the spirit that nearly always governed the Faculty of the Sor- POWER OF THE SORBONNE. 175 bonne we shall find that those who may think that it was in agreement with the title of " poor house " (paavre maison), which it had adopted, are mistaken. Its poor masters were not long in departing from their primitive humility. As member of a Theological faculty a master ob- tained the right to pass judgment without ap- peal on all works and on all opinions. He also assumed to submit to his jurisdiction, under certain circumstances, even the popes and the kings. The following passage from VEtoile, or jour- nal of Henri III, will show how greatly the role of the Sorbonne had changed, and what would have been said about these masters had it not been for a wholesome fear of burning faggots: 61 Thereupon the Sorbonne, that is to say, thirty or forty pedants, masters of arts who after grace disposed of sceptres and crowns in their college, on the 16th of this month (De- • cember, 1587) delivered a secret decision to the effect that princes who were not as they should be, might lawfully be deprived of their govern- ments." Two years later the same journal says : "The Sorbonne declared that all the subjects of the Kino; were absolved from the oath of obedience 176 PARIS. and fidelity which they had sworn to Henri of Valois." A good many other excesses marked the power of the Sorbonne and which on that ac- count was nicknamed the Sorbonne Bourguig- nonne and the Sorbonne Anglaise. The first was given to it in 1407 when it took the part of the Duke of Burgundy against the Duke of Orleans, while those two Princes were disput- ing for the government of France. On the occasion of the death of Orleans, who was not without certain good qualities, Doctor Jean Petit delivered from the pulpit an eulogy of his assassin. The Sorbonne was nicknamed Anglaise after the misfortunes of King John and the invasion of France by the English, and it remained until the very last moment favour- able to the cause of the enemies of France. It was the Faculty of the Sorbonne who wrote to the Duke Bourgogne, to the King of England, and to the Duke of Bedford, asking them to * deliver Jeanne d'Arc over to Doctor Pierre Cauchon, who would judge and burn her. In a letter to Bedford the Sorbonne said : " You have used your noble power to apprehend this woman who calls herself pucelle . . . . and it would be an intolerable offence against CRIMES AND PERSECUTIONS. 177 the Divine Majesty if she were set free." The letter to England's King was a bold demand that the Maid should be sent to judgment, so she was delivered over to a minister of God, who is known in history under the names of indigne pritre, of indigne eveque, of indigne frangais. Later, the Sorbonne was called guizarde and espagttole, the first because it attracted itself to the Guise faction, the second because it again sympathised with a foreign foe (Spanish) against France. Finally, under Louis XIV and Louis XV, the Sorbonne was known as the Ultramontaine, and became in turn Janseniste and Moliniste, and at all times it was for persecuting those who did not agree with it in all things. But the history of its many crimes is too long to relate in these pages. What must be said, however, is that in all its earlier periods the Sorbonne had been the firm supporter of igno- rance and fanaticism. Its gravest persecutions were : the burning of Jeanne d'Arc ; the im- prisonment of Marot, the poet; the death of Remus; the recantation of Doctor d'Espence, forced from him by torture ; the condemnation of Charon; the deposing of Richer; the dis- 178 PAEIS, grace with which it covered Arnaud ; the cen- sures it passed on Descartes; the ridiculous process which it instituted against the Jesuits on account of the Chinese; and, finally, the persecutions that it attempted against Montes- quieu, Helvetius, Rousseau, Buffon and Mar- montel. It never stopped its acts of bigotry and oppression until the light of philosophy had dispelled barbarous darkness, had unveiled the intrigues of fanatics, had given to France the hope of more happy days. There is this much to be said in favour of the Sorbonne, however. The credit of introducing printing into Paris belongs to it. In 1469, when Jean Heynlin was Prior, printers were brought from Mayence, and under the eyes of the Faculty books were printed. 1 The Sor- bonne was suppressed by the Revolution in 1790, and in 1808 the entire edifice was given to the University. In creating a new University, Napoleon I established at the Sorbonne the chief residence of the Academy at Paris, the three Faculties of letters, science, and theology. En jiassant, it 1 It is true that Guillaume Eichet and Jean de La Pierre, the two doctors who brought in these printers, were honoured by being persecuted by their colleagues for having done so. WORK OF THE REPUBLIC. 179 may be mentioned that two other Faculties, medicine and law, have now each their own building in that same part of town. In 1815 the church, which was then almost wholly oc- cupied by sculptors as a studio, was restored to its original use, and for a time, when the cele- brated Choron led the singing of the Sorbonne pupils, it was famous for the music of its reli- gious services. In January, 1885, the present writer wit- nessed the laying of the second " cornerstone " of the new Sorbonne. The first one had been placed during the Second Empire, several years before, when M. Fortoul was Minister of Pub- lic instruction. Then they celebrated the event in the language of Demosthenes and Cicero, and a brilliant future was predicted for the edifice which they were about to add to the one erected in the days of Richelieu. But the trowel had hardly got to work when the sceptre of majesty fell from Louis Napoleon's hand and a republic was proclaimed. It was not until three Presidents had teen chosen by the people's representatives that this second stone was laid, and this time it was French not Latin that was spoken by those who were re- sponsible for the eloquence of the occasion. 180 PARIS. u Thence to the Sorbonne. The library very- large : not in lattices, like the King's. Mar- bone and Durani: collection fourteen vols. The Prior and Librarian dined with us. Their garden pretty, with covered walks, but small. The Doctors of the Sorbonne are all equal: choose those who succeed to vacancies : Profit little. . . . ' Maitre-es-Arts,' 2y. ; 6 Licen- tiate/ 2y. ; c Bacc. Theol. , 3y. ; for the Doc- torate, three disputations, Doctor, Major, Minor, Sorbonica. Several colleges suppressed and transferred to that which was the Jesuit's College." Such are the meagre and fragmen- tary notices found among the manuscripts of Dr. Samuel Johnson, and relating to the famous place of University education to which we were bidden eighteen years ago, and when M. Jules Ferry was Minister of Public Instruc- tion and orator of the day. Dr. Johnson con- descends to indulge in a little more detail when he tells us how he dined with the Benedictines, oif herb soup, herrings, eels — both with sauce — and " lentils, tasteless in themselves;" but at the time of his visit to the French capital the great lexicographer was aged and sick and wearied, and he had no more to say about France than his fellow hypochondriac, Smollet, NOT LIKE OTHER UNIVERSITIES. 181 had to say about Italy. Had it been otherwise what a noble theme for the Johnsonian pen might have been found in an establishment the decision of whose Faculty of Theology had in days gone by, almost Pontifical authority in the Gallican church ! It may be stated just here that the Paris Sor- bonne is not at all like Oxford or Cambridge, although the contrary of this assertion is some- times declared by English and American writ- ers. The first named is the Alma Mater of many students belonging to a grade rarely to be found at England's great historic Universities. It is a teaching as well as an examining body, its lectures are public and gratuitous, including a faculty of secondary instruction for girls,f ounded in 1867, and the fees payable on admission to a doctor's degree do not amount to more than sixteen dollars. It has a Faculty of Theology, which, since 1854, has been followed with tol- erable assiduity; but the vast majority of the French clergy pass from the Petit to the Grand Seminaire, and thence directly to the priest- hood, without thinking of graduating at the Sorbonne, which at the present moment is the reverse either of a clerical or an aristocratic in- stitution. The existing attitude of the old 182 PARIS, French nobility toward the Republic is one of persistent opposition, and the sons of the great- est families in France are being educated either at home by clerical tutors or in J esuit Colleges. On the other hand the great Lycees of Charle- magne and Louis le Grand, and the colleges both of the State and the municipality overflow with the children of the intelligent middle classes, who, when they have passed through the higher grades of the local schools, must go to the Sor- bonne to pass their examinations for the de- grees of the " Baccalaureat " or "Doctoraten Droit." It would be untrue to say we heard no Latin at all spoken at the ceremony of 1885, for the traditional congratulatory speech was deliv- ered in that classic tongue, but that was its last time. French scholars are, as a rule, excellent Latinists so far as fluency and accuracy of prose writing go, although in poetics they shine neither as writers nor as critics ; and it was at first blush not easy to understand why on a momentous public occasion, and in the hall of an ancient Academy, the speech of old Rome was for the future to be banished from an academic celebration. The University of Paris did not, of course, AN" OFFICIAL CEREMONY. 183 intend to discontinue the teaching of Latin or to with old rewards for proficiency, in that learned language, but the simple truth was that the officials of the period had arrived at the conclusion that the Sorbonne had labored quite long enough under the imputation of ex- cessive pedantry and scholastic long-winded- ness. Rabelais had laughed the " Doctor es Sordonicae " to scorn nearly three centuries be- fore ; Moliere's ridicule, although more oblique, was scarcely less scathing; and in our own times, not a year had passed without the Latin orations of the Sorbonne being derided and parodied by the incorrigible persifleurs of the Parisian press. It is, however, worthy of re- mark that the Professor of Rhetoric who de- livered the customary harangue that afternoon seemed to have made up his mind that if there were to be no more Latin speeches at the Sor- bonne the last should at all events be a good one ; and he delivered a telling and eloquent dissertation on the theme, " In what the Re- public should be Eminent and Excel," in which he, with much dexterity, eulogised a Republi- can form of government, alluded to the recent distribution of flags to the army, and wound up by fervently exhorting the youth of France to 184 PARIS. work for her happiness and prosperity. Thus, amid enthusiastic applause, the curtain fell on a very clever exercitation, and with the utmost propriety the orator might have said to his audience, " Pladite — et valete, " for they were to hear no more of that kind of thing at the Sorbonne. Monsieur Jules Ferry's speech was in French, and it was a masterful exposition of what the Government of the Republic intended to do in the future for the youth of France. A system of thorough innovation and reform was thence- forth to be adopted in the different stages on school and University education. The study of the dead languages was to receive a fresh impetus on a totally new basis. Instead of boys living ten years by the side of antiquity without understanding it, they would learn to read Latin instead of writing it, and the ground lost by grammar would be won by the love of letters. Scholars in the elementary classes would receive instruction in a much more at- tractive form than that which had hitherto been imparted. French and other modern languages, object lessons, mental arithmetic, and the ele- ments of science would take up a portion of the time hitherto devoted by younger pupils to the "TINE PEPINIERE DE PROFESSETTRS." 185 study of the classics; and the University of France, instead of being, as theretofore, watched and disparaged by its rivals, ruled by its tra- ducers, and half-heartedly defended by the State, would possess, under the remodelled Supreme Council, a dignity and independence which no order of government, save a Republi- can one, could give. This was the sum and substance of the promise made that .afternoon by the French government, and in my opinion, the Republic has nobly kept its word in all things pertaining to public instruction. It did not completely succeed in this immediately, and it has taken years of hard work to make the change and to make the progress ; but it has been done, as will be shown further along in this work. As for the Sorbonne it is at present almost exclusi vely what the French call, " Une pepi- nierede Professeurs," or nursery for prof essors. In other days it was, as has been already stated, a theological caeniaculum, and its classes consti- tuted a sort of permanent council. To-day it has its Doctors also — liacal Doctors for the Faculties of letters and sciences, Ecclesiastical Doctors for that of theology ; but the doctrines which these profess are varied. However, the 186 PARIS. instruction taught by all its Faculties in recent years has gained in force and seriousness ; and each year sees a new lot of young Professors leaving the Sorbonne to go and take their places in the Lycees and Colleges of France to give the children of the Republic that healthy, wholesome knowledge which will enable them to march victoriously along the road of progress opened for them and for the whole world by their forebears. The College of France was founded in 1530 by Frangois I, as an institution outside of the University, and perhaps against it, in view of the gratuitous superior instruction which it was to give. The idea was that of Guillaume Bude and of Jean de Bellay, in favour of whom the chairs of Greek and Hebrew were founded. Soon a third chair was created for Latin, and hence the name, u College des Trois Langues," which the institution has always borne. Little by little the sciences were added to belles lettres, so that by 1545 there were eleven chairs occupied by Professors, that is to say, seven charged with Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, two with mathematics, and one each for medi- cine and philosophy. Doctor Vidus Vicius, the King's physician, occupied the chair of medicine. THE COLLEGE OP FRANCE. 187 Under succeeding kings the College of Prance continued its growth and excellence. Charles IX introduced surgery ; Henri III, Arabic; Henri IV, Botany and Astronomy; under Louis XIII, instruction in law was in- troduced and the name of the institution be- came College Royal. Nothing of great impor- tance occurred after that until in the reign of Louis XV, when the chair of French Litera- ture was founded, its first occupant being Jean Louis Aubert, the fabulist. It was called College National during the Revolution, and College Imperial during the Empire, when Napoleon I created a chair for the Turkish language and history. The Res- toration showed less respect for its Professors than had the Convention, as the latter in- creased their pay, while the former not only reduced it again but dismissed many teachers from their chairs, and they were out until after the Revolution of July. Meanwhile two new chairs, Sanscrit and Chinese, had been founded. Finally it was called the College de France, the name it now bears. In its origin it had no special local, and its classes were con- ducted in the different colleges of the Univer- sity; but in 1611 a house was built for it, 188 PAEIS. this was reconstructed in 1774, in 1831 the Institution was sensibly enlarged by order of Louis Philippe, and it tlien liad twenty-two professors. It is now a grand institution of learning, counting no fewer than forty-one or forty-two chairs. Modern French language and literature, the French language and literature of the Me- diaeval Ages, ancient and modern history, Greek language and literature, Latin eloquence and Latin poesy, Hebrew, Chaldaic, Syrian, Arabic, Persian, and Turkish languages, the Sanscrit, Chinese, Tartar, Mandchoues, and Sclav liter- atures, the languages and literature of modern Europe, Greek and Latin philosophy, history and morals, natural laws and human rights, legislative histories, political economy, ar- chaeology, mathematics, astronomy, mathe- matical and general physics, experimental and general physics, medicine, chemistry, natural history of organic and inorganic bodies, comparative embryology, etc., are all taught now in public classes, and which, with the lectures, are quite free to everybody. It does not depend in the slightest on the University, but is under the direction of the Minister of Public Instruction. FEEE SYSTEM OF EDUCATION. 189 The late Ernest Renan was administrateur of the College of France during many years, and was occupying that high position when death removed him from this world. Then Professor Boissier was appointed Adminis- trator of the College of France, and, if I mis- take not, is still at the head of it. The young men who .attend its classes take thence large ideas independent of prejudices and free from narrowness. In a word, the College of France is an institution of human knowledge, but so large has it grown, so many the buildings which it now uses, so great the aid rendered by it in every direction, that it may be said of it, it is no longer a palace sup- ported by a king, it is an Educational Town maintained wholly by the French Republic, and where everything is free to all the world. Unlike at the Sorbonne, where it is almost im- possible to obtain permission to be present at any of the lectures, any one may profit by the large and intelligent instruction given at the College de France. These two great establishments : the Uni- versity with its auxiliaries, — the Faculty of Protestant theology, Faculty of Medicine, Faculty of Law, and Superior School of Phar- 190 PARIS. macy — and the College of France with its auxiliaries — the Bureau of Longitudes, the Observatory, the Museum of Natural History, the Meteorological Bureau — these two, to- gether with the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers, the Conservatoire National de Musique et de Declamation, the Ecole Cen- trale of Arts and Manufactures, the Beaux Arts, the National School of Decorative Arts, the French Academy at Rome, the National School of Chartes, the Superior Normal School, the National School of Roads and Bridges, the Superior School of Mines, the Special School of Architecture, the National Manufactory of Porcelains, the National Manufactury of the Gobelins, the National Manufactory of Mosaics, seventeen or eighteen Lycees, half a dozen Municipal Colleges, with some fourteen or fif- teen Municipal Schools in Paris, where indus- trial and commercial problems, the application of the fine arts to industry, the preparation of girls for clerical work, or what not else that is useful and practical in daily life are being taught by competent men and women, — form ' the free system of education that is encouraged by the French Republic and its great capital ; and over all is the Minister of Public Instruc- tion, who is also Rector of the University. PART TWO. " Shrine of the mighty ! can it be That this is all remains of thee ? " Lord Byron, CHAPTER XI. Le Grand Siecle — Why Louis XIV created Versailles — Its immense Chateau and magnificent gardens — The large courtyard and its monuments — An as- tonishing edifice which housed five thousand per- sons — The park, terrace, and fountains — Millions of money expended and thousands of lives sac- rificed — His Majesty's vegetable grounds and orangery — Incidents of historical interest — The Chateau of Vincennes — Its notorious Donjon — Magnificent panorama of town and country. With the coming on to the stage of that majestic figure in history known as Louis XIV begins what is sometimes called " Le Grand Siecle." In other words, and inasmuch as that monarch reigned for more than seventy years, the period has been designated as the century of the " Roi Soleil." No one will deny that it was a century of almost eternal festivals and of magnificence, all gold on one side of the shield, perhaps, but on the other one single word, bankruptcy. Montesquieu, who knew Louis XIV, said of him : " II a Tair d'un grand Roi," and yet 194 PARIS. that great King was a very ignorant man who barely knew how to read and write. But he knew how to bring on wars, how to prolong the crimes of Saint Bartholomew, how to drive half a million of French people from their native land. In that almost unknown country called Thibet a man is god before whom mil- lions on millions of adorers prostrate themselves as true believers in his quasi-divinity. In France, during the latter part of the seven- teenth and the early part of the eighteenth century, there was a man who also believed in the quasi-divinity of one man, none other than himself, however, that is to say, Louis XIV. He believed that his birth was a miracle, that he was a gift of God to mortals here below, therefore he was called Dieudonne (Dieu, God ; donne, give,) Louis Dieu donne. He pretended to believe that a spirit of God had descended on him and inspired him. " Je suis le lieutenant de Dieu," he once exclaimed. For his emblem he took the sun (soleil) and he adopted a device — Nec Pluribus Impar — which signified that he was quite enough for several worlds. Those who worshipped Louis XIV represented him as Apollo, the god of beauty, and he was immensely pleased by this. They VERSAILLES CREATED. 195 represented him as Mars, the god of war, as Jupiter even, and lie whispered to himself his personal satisfaction. Meanwhile, and at first, the capital laughed at these Royal pretensions, but it was soon punished for its impertinence ; for " Louis le Grand " detested his bon ville de Paris with all 'his kingly heart, and so hating her he created Versailles. Again, and this time for nearly a century, the Louvre was abandoned as a royal palace, the unfinished work on it was neglected, and the Tuileries was empty ; but an immense Chateau, with splendid gardens, large fountains, marvellous and ingenious re- treats, a whole city were created to take their place. And it is because Versailles is so close to Paris, is really one of the splendours, or side-shows, so to speak, of the capital, that we may be permitted to speak of that famous town and its almost ruined masterpieces of embellish- ment in this work. The chateau and the city of Versailles are synonymous, and the place was long since dubbed the French Thebes. It is a town of almost deserted avenues, where every thorough- fare seems to converge toward the sometime residence of the " Roi Soleil," where nothing 196 PARIS. existed once upon a time except for him, where houses and hotels were only so many furnished apartments secondary to the majesty of his throne-room, and which is now little more than a soldiers' barracks or drill ground. There may be other towns in Europe more ancient than Versailles, but there are few, if any, so historical. During our own generation a mighty Empire (the German) and a great Republic (the French) have sprung into existence within the walls of its chateau. It was at Versailles that the French Revo- lution first showed its audacity. It was there that Marie Antoinette and the Du Barry woman held their heedless courts. It was there that the putrid Louis XV died ; but, and above all else, it was there that the Absolute Monarchy of the " Sun King " had its origin and at- tained to its fullest development. In spite, however, of all the transformations, and these are many, which Versailles has undergone — from the feudal castle that became the favourite hunting box of Louis the Just to the Congress hall where Monsieur Loubet was chosen seventh President of the French Republic a few years back — it is still the chateau which was the VERSAILLES OP THE PRESENT. 19? first conception and temporary realisation of the famous declaration, " Tetat c'est moi," tliat has remained to us. There are two railway lines and a well kept national road leading from Paris to Versailles and the distance either way is only a few miles. The town is a dreary, wormeaten place, dotted with cheap cafes, where civilians in blouses mix with artillerymen in uniform, as they drink, smoke, and gossip together over politics and la patrie. There is some difference between the outer appearance of the soldiers and that of the proletaire, but there is none whatever in their intelligences, or in their voices, which are nearly always musical. Both classes, work- ing men and military men, live peacefully together in a quiet town that is full of phan- toms. There is a wide, open square to which all the main avenues lead, and whereon there are several gloomy barracks which house future food for gunpowder in the shape of sturdy conscripts. There is a tall fence of stout iron bars, round and close together, with spike-like points richly gilded, and a wide iron-barred gate topped by the same sham gold, and be- yond this stout barrier profiles the old Chateau. We enter through this porte and cross a large 193 PARIS. courtyard girded by pompous statues of more than "heroic size, all looking toward the grandly plumed image of Louis XIV on horseback. There, on a pedestal green-stained by the dropping of rain on the bronze, and surrounded by his lieutenants, Prince Conde and Prince Turenne, by Moliere and Corneille, by Bossuet and Madame Maintenon, the " Roi Soleil" holds his court undisturbed in the face of tur- bulent generations who now wander as they please about his old residence. His metallic glance contemplates forever a town that was the capital of his pride and glory, but is now only a listless country towm. Beyond the equestrian monument stands an astonishing edifice called the Chateau ! What a mass of ambitions — obstinately pursued, reached after much effort, at enormous cost, and conse- crated almost wholly to the vanity of one man, — does it not recall to us. It is now in a bad way, but it would be much worse if it were not con- stantly under repair. One after the other the old royal or imperial residences of France are tumbling into ruins, and it will not be many years before Fontainebleau, Compiegne, Ram- bouillet, and Bloiswillbe as desolate as Loches, Chinon, and Malmaison. This is not the fault OF NO ARCHITECTURAL ORDER. 199 of the Republic, for each, century has a natural tendency to throw to the four winds the dust of all its tombs and temples ; yet on the whole there is a tormenting and unceasing desire on our part to seek for and to find long lost and neglected things. One may ignore vain senti- mentality, but to wipe off the earth all the great vestiges of the past is more than impious, it is illogical. Our epoch, embarrassed by traditions, and aching with researches, cannot possibly exit from the chaotic mass except by analysis, and this is why the work of erudites and his- torians among caves and ruins and ancient in- scriptions is so useful to mankind. That im- mense archaeology wherein nothing dies is the oracle of modern thought, for it is history that presides over all engenderings whether one knows or whether one ignores. The Chateau of Versailles does not belong to any architectural order, and is the last produc- tion of a degenerate Renaissance that had out- lived itself. It is true the enormous, wide- spreading front on the garden side that is now so fatiguing to the eye, was formerly broken by trophies and vases which crowned the balustrade of the roof line ; and we must also remember that it was to have been topped with a higher 200 PARIS. roof, but these were at best only experiments, and they became defects rather than orna- ments. It is now and always has been an astonishing edifice, a palace house deeply marked in all its parts by the absorbing personality of a monarch before whom the haughty Republic of Venice humiliated itself, and of whom kingdoms begged that he would send sovereigns to rule over them. That monarch, in whom was des- potically incarnated the majesties and vanities of his century, built this Chateau so well that it is still his souvenir, and yet there is really very little of his own residence in existence at the present time. Indeed there only remains the " grands appartements du Roi," the " Galerie des Glaces " and its two salons, some rooms belonging to the " grands appartements de la Reine," the Chapel, v\dth here and there some portions of the decoration of rooms that under- went alteration or renovation during the reign of Louis XV, to meet the constantly increasing necessities of the Royal family, or that were arranged into " superior apartments " for the separate accommodation of certain " petites mait- resses," among whom may be mentioned Ma- dame Du Barry, Madame de Mailly, Madame PICTURES FROM THE TERRACE. 201 de Chateauroux, La Pompadour, and other "reines de la main gauche " who have lived in the old Chateau. But if there have been many and important changes in the edifice, not so of the park and gardens in which it stands. When strolling on the terrace at the rear of the Chateau* on the days of the "grand eaux," that is to say, when all the fountains play ; then, and sur- rounded by a crowd of globe trotters or of native sightseers, one often overhears speeches, doubtless learned in books and magazines, such as : — " Yes, it is very beautiful, but it is a very solemn style." " Look at it well, it is only geometry." " Certainly there is sculpture and architecture, but made especially with a view to the trees and verdure." " Walls and pyra- mids of foliage — really that is anything but natural." " I think it is very stiff and un- graceful," and so on. Still the picture from that terrace has to the writer always had a re- markably fine effect, and he has gazed on it very often. It is a scene which extends over forest, wooded slopes, a distant horizon fronted by lakes which reflect the sky in their clear waters, innumerable marble statues, and masses of trees which seem to be the falling of heavy 202 PAEIS. and colossal foliations. It must be acknowl- edged, however, that from its earliest days this Versailles park has had its detractors. St. Simon declared it the " saddest, the most ungrateful of places," but his words were un- just, as he doubtless intended them to be. Louis XIV was not a Princely Monarch who did overmuch for the good of mankind, but he was a sovereign, who " directed " well, and after grumbling over the Louvre and the Tuileries, he determined one day to build him- self, a new abiding-place. And that the mira- cle should be all the more complete, in order that it should be well proven that Nature as well as man obeyed his caprices, the imperious Caesar chose a sterile spot in the environs of Paris, precisely where the sumptuous monu- ment that he desired would have to overcome the greatest difficulties and would cost the most. Versailles was then only a small village, hardly that even, but Louis XIV declared that his new home should be a structure larger than the Louvre and the Tuileries together, that the surrounding forest should be a great park, and that the small settlement which had sprung up about an old hunting-box should now become a royal city. His will and wishes MONEY AND LIVES LOST. 203 were accomplished, but at what a price ! In 1661 Architect Levau began buildings which at his death were continued by Mansard. Meanwhile Le Notre, who had been given carte-blanche, designed the garden, although twenty odd years elapsed before the whole plan was terminated. The total amount ex- pended in the creation of the Chateau and its park reached the enormous sum of one hundred and sixteen million livres, which is equivalent to at least thirty million dollars in our time. Add to this sum the prodigious mortality among the workmen — the dead were removed by cart- loads every night — and the cost of water. For the most extravagant part of the whole plan was the supplementary one for an aqueduct intended to bring the flow of the River Eure to the plateau of Versailles. Large sums of money and thousands of lives were lost in the attempt to construct this conduit, which, though it still exists in a ruined condition, was never completed. On the sixteenth of May, 1682, Louis XIV fixed his residence at Versailles — according to the journal of Dangean thirty-six thousand men were still at work on the buildings and grounds — and it became the seat of his Gov- 204 PARIS. ernment. Until then the nobles had for most part resided in their respective provinces or on their estates ; but the king wanted to reduce the entire noblesse of France to the position of courtiers and lickspittles. He would not admit that a man whose birth gave him the right to approach the throne should absent himself from court, and as he compelled their attendance he had to provide them lodgings within his own Chateau. Hence the innumerable bed-closets — they were little more than closets most of them — which were arranged in the palace ; and hence also the numerous offices that had to be created in order to enable these courtiers to meet the expenses entailed on them by an idle life. There was hardly a noble family in France but which depended on the sovereign's generosity. Thus it was that, either from the instinctive policy of despotism, or from the necessary development of existing institutions ; or from the caprices of a prince who took pleas- ure in building ; or, as is probable, from a com- bination of all these causes, — the government of France changed little by little until its original character had entirely disappeared. By aban- doning the country for the Court, the nobles became separated from the rest of the nation ; COMFORT UNKNOWN. 205 and by consenting to live in this dependence they abdicated all sentiment of personal dig- nity and self-respect. It is in this view of the social and political change which France underwent during the reign of Louis XIV that Versailles may be regarded as the monument of the transformation of the feudal monarchy of France into a monarchy fashioned after the oriental type of the personal absolutism of the King himself. And how were all these courtiers lodged ? For that mat- ter let us first see about the sovereign, who, according to Saint Simon, was poorly roomed. In those days comfort was unknown, architec- ture devoting all its attention to outward appearance, to display and to magnificence. Grilded salons, galleries, and grand stairways of marble were piled on top of each other without any general plan or arrangement. The King could only go to the apartments of the Queen by passing through a public antechamber known as the (Eil-de-Boeuf, 1 which was always full of people, or else by making a long detour through the rear portion of the Chateau. Later on the passage du Roi was constructed, and to 1 Some translate this term ceil-de-lwuf into " bull's eye.- 206 PARIS. do this, a way had to be opened through a series of dark closets out of which courtiers and their wives were turned sans ceremonie. And how about Madame de Maintenon — in 1684 the King married the " Widow Scarron " — the morganatic queen ? Her apartments had a small addition situated between the Salle des Gardes and the anteroom to her part of the house, in which there was a narrow alcove with- out light and with but little air where her bed stood. All the fireplaces were enormous, but as Madame de Maintenon was subject to rheuma- tism and suffered greatly from the cold, she used to sit in an armchair that resembled a sentry- box in order to protect herself from the draughts of her own rooms. If such was the way in which Master and Mistress were lodged, one may well wonder what their guests had to put up with. The Chateau alone contained about* five thousand persons, and there were quite as many more in its various dependencies. The at- tics of the edifice, where we see to-day an exten- sive gallery of historical portraits, was divided and subdivided into a multitude of narrow cells which housed the highest and most powerful per- sonages of the kingdom ; indeed, the Chateau at Versailles was not only a town in the number AN OVERCROWDED CHATEAU. 207 of its inhabitants, but also in the character and occupation of those people ; for the need of ser- vants and persons of every trade was rendered necessary by the presence of so many families. Shopkeepers sold their wares on all the stairs ; beggars were scattered all over the Chateau ; everybody could wander about the place at will, and not infrequently visitors were lost in its maze of corridors. It need hardly be added that the Chateau was as unclean as it was over- crowded, and that there was but little privacy anywhere. Everything was magnificent in and about this rural masterpiece which had been created for the king and court, and everything was on a royal scale ; but everything was hor- ribly monotonous, for all was etiquette and methodic order, and gambling was the only real indoor amusement. The whole end of his reign closely resembled a lenten season follow- ing the carnival; and the court already seemed to be wearing mourning for a monarchy which was in reality carried to its tomb with the end of the succeeding reign. Sad was the old age of le grand roi } and then in 1715 he disappeared, leaving the throne to a great grandson, a child of five years. 208 PAEIS. With Louis XV began the decadence of Versailles, and the tumbling into ruins of the splendid Chateau. The palace was no longer adapted to the new manners of the day and to the desire for the comforts of life which had been introduced into France. It remained the official residence, but the young King liked it not ; the etiquette of Court life became relaxed while the Court morals were much less vigorous than its etiquette. Unlike those of his prede- cessor, the irregularities of Louis XV were glaring vices. There were mistresses and petites maitresses. — Madame la Pompadour made way for Madame Du Barry, who cost the nation forty million livres in five years. The Chateau was given up to shameful amusements, and the town revelled in daily orgies. The Bourbon who on his accession to the crown had been named by his people le bien aime — the well-beloved — died as hated and detested a monarch as ever sat on any throne. The Court at Versailles again became bril- liant while Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were there ; and it also became respectable un- der the influence of the only Bourbon who had ever possessed domestic virtues. But the story of the events which took place at the Chateau A MAGNIFICENT PERSPECTIVE. 209 during his reign, and of those which inaugurated the Revolution, need not be repeated. With the removal of the King and Queen to Paris, Versailles was abandoned, and it has never since been a place of royal residence. Louis Philippe determined on restoring and repairing the Chateau, and he converted most of it into a museum for pictures and into showrooms. It is true the Chateau suffered greatly while under- going these alterations and reconstructions ; but if the work had not been done, the establish- ment would have been in complete ruins long ago. As for the park, it has been more fortunate than the Chateau, being even now practically the same that it was when completed by Le Notre. If we place ourselves on the broad steps at the rear of the Chateau, between the two large water basins on the parterre, we see before us a most magnificent perspective. The slopes are bordered with yew trees and with stone steps descending to the central green ; then comes the royal alley, with its long and lovely tapis vert; further off is the Bassin d' Apollon ; then, as far as we can see, stretches the grand canal whereon gondolas and aquatic fowl sported during the reign of the Sun King. 210 PAKIS. In the hemicycle formed by hedges which entirely hide the walls of the slopes and of the stairways, is the Bassin de Latone. 1 Here Sculptor Marsy represented the mother of Apollo and of Diana when, pursued by the hatred of Juno, she sees herself exposed to the insults of Lycian peasants, whom the fury of Jupiter metamorphoses into frogs. The sub- basements of the basin are of party-coloured marble, as is the pedestal of the group of La- tone and her two children, the group itself be- ing in white marble. The peasants, the frogs and creatures — half men, half batrachians — that surround the goddess form seventy-four figures made of bronze lead, each of which throws forth a jet of water. Let us pass on, without stop- ping at the Bassin des Lezards which ornaments the two compartments of the central parterre, straight to the Bassin d' Apollon, which matchfes that of the Latone. This basin is three hun- dred and sixty feet in length by two hundred and seventy feet in width, and its form is really elegant. Between two perpendicular wheat- sheafs that spring from a sheet of water and 1 Spelled in this way, bassin is the French word for basin ; Bassin de Latone means therefore the basin of Latone ; that is to say, the Latone fountain. AMONG THE FOUNTAINS. 211 rise to a height of forty-seven feet, we perceive, in the midst of a thick jet of water fifty-seven feet in height which envelops him, the Grod of Day holding the reins of his chariot horses and coming out of the waves to begin his daily course. The horses, although half immersed, are clearly distinguished, while dolphins and tritons accompany Phoebus to the limits of the humid kingdom. All these figures are of lead, but this Apollo must not be confounded with one at his morning toilet, which we shall find, before quitting the dwelling of Thetis to spring into the Empyreum. There is a whole course of mythological studies to make when crossing the woods and pieces of water at Versailles, for no god of distinction seems lacking ; and yet the true Master of this Olympia, he who with a frown made mortals tremble, sat in the Chateau on a throne of velvet with golden figures, and under a dais covered with fleurs de lys. Neptune was long absent from the immense basin or amphitheatre that was consecrated to his name, and which is, beyond all doubt, the finest fountain piece in the entire park. The principal group, placed, not in the middle of the water, but, against a wall at the end most 212 PAKIS. elevated, represents the God of the Sea and his wife, Amphitrite, seated in an immense shell. Neptune, armed with his trident, has on his head the remains of a monster from whose mouth comes a sheet of water, while on his right a triton is mounted on a sea-horse. Am- phitrite has a triton and a seal near her, a naiad presents her the treasures of the ocean ; while on the right of this august couple sport animals confided to the care of Proteus, faithful servitor to the Ocean God. On the left old Ocean leans carelessly on a gigantic unicorn ; while the attributes surrounding him are — an urn, a forest of reeds, and two fantastic fish. The table which surmounts the superior part of the basin is ornamented with twenty-two leaden vases of admirable workmanship. The border of the lower extremity, at its two angles, offers figures of dolphins mounted by cupids. We reach this Bassin de Neptune from the upper or Northern parterre, by the Water alley {Allee cPeau), called also Allee des Marmousets, be- cause it is ornamented with a double row of seven small marble basins, in the midst of which are groups of children supporting cups of marble, although the children are of bronze. Eight other groups border the half moon that OTHER THINGS OF BEAUTY. 213 overlooks the Bassin de Neptune, and surround a piece called " du Dragon," which dragon is the famous serpent Python that Apollo pierced with arrows. It also throws out an enormous jet of water, as indeed do all the other mon- sters, gods, and children in the garden of Ver- sailles when the fountains play. Coming back by the " Alley of the Little Boys " to the grand terrace, we stop a moment to consider the decoration of the two basins to the North and South which were left behind us a while ago. The first is of especially charming effect. The Rivers Garonne and Dor- dogne, the nymphs, the groups of children and figures, are quite suitable in a field where Art dominates Nature everywhere. In the other basin the figures of the Rivers Loire, Loiret, Saone, and Rhone, together with groups of nymphs and children, form an ensemble full of harmony. At the Southern extremity of the terrace, two magnificent flights of marble stairs, of one hundred and three steps each, descend to the parterre of an Orangery that is divided into three galleries. One of these, the central, is five hundred and four feet long, forty feet wide, and forty in height ; the two lateral galleries 214 PARIS. are each three hundred and fifty feet in length, including the extremities, which are lower under the stairways. Exteriorly, this edifice owes its beauty to the fortunate effect of the balustrade that crowns it and the marble stairways already mentioned. The Orangery was terminated in 1686; to it the finest orange trees at Fontaine- bleau were brought, and in it delicious fruit is grown. It would hardly do to pass in review all the groves, basins, and statuary, and flower beds distributed to the right and left of what is known as the " tapis-vert" and which is a splendid stretch of the most perfectly kept lawn possible to be imagined, but they are all beautiful and very expensive. There are, however, two remarkable things which must be mentioned, the grand canal, and the Swiss piece of water, (piece cPeau des Suisses), and for this we need not quit the small park. By following the Eoyal alley to its end, and by going around the Apollo foun- tain, we will have before us a great basin of five hundred feet in diameter, which forms the head of the canal. This canal is more than five thousand feet long, and is terminated by a second basin which is seven hundred feet AN ARTIFICIAL LAKE. 215 across. Of the two secondary branches, which start for a third basin situated towards the middle, the one on the left ended in a men- agerie that was suppressed in 1793; while the one on the right runs northward to the site of the ancient village of Trianon, where the little Chateau of that name now stands. In the time of Louis XIV, a fleet of gondolas and a group of gondoliers, all brought from Venice, were seen on this canal, to which the King, the Dauphin and the Princesses often went to take a ride ; while nowadays the night fetes at Versailles usually end with a display of fire- works. The Swiss piece, so called because a regiment of the Swiss guards were employed in digging it, is situated at the entrance of the grand park before the parterre of the Orangery. Nautical plays and jousts were given there in those other days, for then the sheet of .water was fifteen hundred feet long by five hundred wide ; but the stone border with which it was formerly surrounded has fallen into ruin, and there is no longer any real basin, only a sort of pond with muddy banks. The ground taken away to hollow out this " piece d'eau des Suisses " served to fill up a deep pond, where 216 PARIS. Mansard established the vegetable garden of his majesty. This garden still exists, and its management has in all times been confided to skilled managers. It is now a National School of Horticulture, where excellent vegetables are cultivated, the greater part of which are consumed on the tables of cabinet officers and on that of the President. What contributed especially to make Ver- sailles a ruinous masterpiece was not, however, the buildings, or the park, or the fountains ; it was not the statues, or the Orangery ; it was not the paintings, or the extravagance of those within the Chateau ; it was that which it would seem at first sight ought to have cost next to nothing, — the water. Not the water which was actually brought to the place, but that which they vainly and madly tried to bring to it. It is true that — after thousands on thousands of soldiers, working as labourers, had been decimated by pernicious fevers, and hundreds of millions of francs had been squan- dered — they did succeed in getting water there ; not nearly so much as was desired, but sufficient to fill the basins and to have the cascades and the fountains play on gala days, and which, considering the multitude of the pieces, GRAND AND PETIT TRIANONS. 217 was more than might have been reasonably expected. 1 It appears that Lonis XIV was hardly in- stalled at Versailles when he began to fear the fatigue and weariness of the life of pomp it would be necessary for him to lead in this Olympia of marble, jasper, gold, and verdure ; and so, wishing to have near the Chateau and its gardens a house and park where he could pass a day or two with his family and a few favourites, simply as a grand lord, whenever he desired to do so, he bought the fiefs and farms of the little village of Trianon from the monks of Sainte Genevieve, and then, at the extremity of one of the arms of the grand canal a " Palace of Flora " was erected for gallant purposes. First it was a house built of porcelain and was used for picnics ; afterwards it was enlarged and made a sleeping-place ; and, finally, it be- came a small chateau of marble and poryphry. This last pavilion was regarded by every one as an enchantment, but the King's fancy for it only lasted a few years. The house of marble and poryphry was torn down, and in its place 1 These fountains usually play once every month during summer, and it costs the State about eight thousand dollars for their water alone, each day. 218 PARIS, was erected the building now known as the Grand Trianon. After the year 1699, Louis XIV ceased to sleep at the Grand Trianon, and soon the place was wholly deserted. Louis XV liked his ease. Pleasure was the greatest affair of his life, and as pleasure, espe- cially as he understood it, did not accommo- date itself to etiquette and ceremonial, he re- quired, besides the several palaces which he had inherited, that houses where he could live in debauchery should be built. Louis XIV had the first Trianon erected, diminutive of Versailles ; Louis XV built the second Trianon, diminutive of the other, and this is the one which Louis XVI gave over to Queen Marie Antoinette. The garden was then entirely replanted, in accordance with the existing romantic and pastoral taste, and a hamlet with dairy, a chapel, and a curate's house were built on the banks of a pond and shallow stream. Her Majesty was very fond of her imitation farm, and often went there with her favourite lords and ladies, to exchange the pomp of Court for the innocent and childish play of field pursuits. The pleasure of wandering over the buildings of the hamlet, of milking cows, of fishing in the pond, enchanted " the Aus- CASTLE OF VINCENNES. 219 trian " ; and on the stage o£ her small theatre at Trianon she played the rdle of Colette in the "Devin de Village/' and that of Eosine in the "Barbier de Seville." To-day the Petit Trianon could be made one of the most charming gardens in the neighbour- hood of Paris, and yet it is a sadly neglected spot. Then, it was elegant, its vegetation was rich and vigorous; now, the waters are stag- nant, troubled, and overcharged with crypto- gamic vegetations which render their aspect disagreeable; while the walls are tumbling down, and the shrubbery in its garden grows wilder every year, — it is no longer a pleasure ground. Another old residence of French kings stands at Vincennes, and as it, too, belongs in a way to Paris, it must be briefly described in these pages. The road out by carriage, is past the spot where the Bastille stood, past the Place du Trone, and so on to the Donjon of Vincennes, a colossal square castle, towering up an immense height, and over which centu- ries of wars and revolutions have swept without changing much of its mediaeval character. Etymologists have wasted ink and paper and a great deal of their time in discussing the deri- 220 PAEIS. vation of the name of this town and chateau ; but their discussions have not led to our know- ing anything definite on the subject. Some get the name from tw^o Latin words, vita sana — meaning a healthy life. Others say it was so- called because separated from the old Gallo- Roman city of Lutetia by a distance of vigenti stadia. As far back as the year 847 it was called Villecennde in a Royal patent, as it was again in a bull signed by Pope Benoit VII, in 980 ; while in a Royal charter of Henri II, of the year 1037, the same name was given to it. The forest stretches away from near the forti- fications of Paris, and, following the right bank of the River Seine, covers nearly the whole of the peninsula formed by the junction of the rivers Marne and Seine, and extends along the former river and around to the town after which it is named, forming an almost regular square, \ out of one side of which is taken the space occu- pied by the town, castle, and drill-ground. Commenced by Philip of Valois in 1337, and completed by Charles le Sage, this castle, the only royal manor then outside the capital, oc- cupies the site of a royal country palace — where Philippe Augustus went to hunt the deer and wild boars which filled the forest — placed there A STOUT OLD FOKTKESS. 221 originally by Clovis, after lie had driven out the Pagan priests. "When completed, it was a powerful citadel composed of a central or donjon tower, surrounded by eight flanking towers, united by heavy walls, and encircled with a wide moat. Of this citadel the donjon tower alone is now standing ; the rest have all vanished amidst the wars that have ebbed and flowed around it, and have been replaced by various other struc- tures belonging to different and widely sepa- rated epochs. It is still a stout old fortress, enclosed by strong walls and a wide moat, de- fended by cannon, and comprising within its limits an arsenal, barracks, hospitals, a cannon foundry, a manufactory of small arms, repairing shops, a chapel, prisons, and large storehouses, containing the complete equipments for an army of sixty thousand men constantly kept ready for use, to say nothing of a garrison of some ten thousand soldiers. We enter over a drawbridge thrown across a moat to the gate, and soon find ourselves in a large courtyard, with the fagade in front of us of what was once the royal apartments. These were built by Louis XIII and Louis XIV ; while the chapel to our left was commenced 222 PAEIS. back in the fourteenth century, when Charles V lived there. It was in the old chapel, pulled down to make room for the present one, that the " Crown of Thorns," brought from the Holy Land was de- posited over night on its arrival. Next morn- ing Louis IX carried it to the capital, walking barefoot the entire distance. The present chapel is a Gothic structure, with delicate lace- like stone carvings, rose windows, and ogives. Architecturally speaking it is a noble piece of work, but the interior is devoid of ornamenta- tion and shows numerous traces of having been sacked frequently. On the same side of the courtyard is the armoury, and a small tower, while the frowning donjon tower looms up at the right of the courtyard. It is one hundred and seventy-four feet high, its ten-feet-thick walls have stood the wars of many centuries, and it is that part of the Chateau of Vincennes which most fascinates visitors. There is another drawbridge to cross before we reach the threshold of the Donjon, and many brave and unfortunate men have done so before us, with spirits subdued by oppression and hearts broken by injustice and tyranny. Much of that chivalrous spirit which capti- A FROWNING DUNGEON. 223 vates the imagination when reading French history expired in this grim old tower that we are about to enter. Sometimes it was quenched by violence and ignominious death, sometimes wasted away in slow, silent, life- wearing obliv- ion. So much of the bold, fearless genius of philosophy has here sustained persecution, through the harassing medium of promised liberty, protracted imprisonment, and all the wearying alternations of supense, that the tower is a monument of suffering, a stone chronicle of dates, events, and periods, as well as a mighty castle. There is not an ivy-twined loophole, not a time-tinted bastion belonging to this frowning dungeon — so long the terrific instrument of tyrannical caprice ingulfing any victim whom power, thwarted in some darling passion, might hurl into its noisome cells — but has a specific power to awaken sadness and to arouse indignation. Each of the five floors has a lofty central room, surrounded by cells, in which many features still remain to recall the Princes of the blood, nobility, great writers and illus- trious statesmen who at different periods have occupied them as prisoners. The great Conde was incarcerated here, and his original crime. 224 PARIS. 4 as it was also the cause of his many after errors, was his devotion to a beautiful wife, whom he refused to resign to the lust of a gray-headed king. But while many a man has sighed within the walls of the famous Donjon of Vinoennes, numerous are the glories and the disasters that it has witnessed. It was once the favourite residence of the Kings of France, and a few of these spent their entire reign within the confines of the deep, wide moat surrounding it. Civil wars and foreign in- vasions long since beat in blood-red waves at the foot of its massive tower, while after the arrows of archers and the bolts of crossbowmen, the mus- ket bullets and cannon balls of more modern troops scarred its thick walls and smashed its stained glass windows. It has been a military stronghold, a Royal residence, a State prison, and it is still an ancient pile. A magnificent panorama of capital and country, of river fields and forests, of roads and scattered villages, can be seen from the top of it. In every direction the perspective is deep and distant, and there are few spots over the whole landscape which do not recall ancient history. All the roads and streets to be seen have been traversed by men who left deep THE PAGES OF HISTORY. 225 marks on the pages of Continental existence, 'Not a corner of that smiling country but has witnessed bloody combats. Roman and Gauls, Francs and Normans, French and English, Russians, Austrians, and Spaniards have all been there, as there have also been Catholics and Protestants fighting for the possession of Paris, emperors, kings, princes, constables, marshals have marched their men through all the sur- rounding hamlets or smiling villages, have bivouacked their troops under those trees, have manured those lands with the blood of heroes. The courtyard has rung with the tread of mail- clad knights, has echoed with the sound of muffled drums, has resounded with the din of hand-to-hand conflicts, with the blasts of trum- pets proclaiming victories in battle, the clarion of heralds announcing the coming of a king or an emperor. But there was love and beauty in those days as well as heroism. Under the trees of Vin- cennes still flit the shades of Grabrielle d'Estrees, Marguerite de Yalys, Madame De Longue- ville, the Pompadour, and other beautiful women whom kings and princes loved, well if not wisely. The River Marne winds its way beautifully 226 PAEIS. through, those lands ; and there is a tradition that Saint Louis used to administer justice in patriarchal fashion under those mighty oaks. Another story connected with the locality is that when General Daumesnil, commanding this same castle over which we are now linger- ing, when summoned in 1814 by the Allies to surrender, answered : " Certainly, I will do so — when you bring me back the leg I lost on the battlefield of Wagram." Ten years before that, the Duke of Enghien, last of the Condes, was brought to Vincennes, and the same night of his arrival he was interrogated, judged, con- demned and shot, by command of Napoleon. For this act the Emperor has been harshly treated by some historians. But I always see Napoleon the Great, not Napoleon the Bad, when recalling the deeds of that wonderful genius. CHAPTER XII. The Colonnade of the Louvre — The Hotel des In- valides, or Home for old Soldiers — Many strange scenes witnessed — Seeking for guns with which to take the Bastile — Breaking of Frederick the Great's sword — Mysterious vaults as burial places — The story of Monsieur de Sombreuil — Victims of the Eeign of Terror — Their last repose in the Hue Picpus — Funeral service of Marshal MacMa- hon — A splendid military ceremony — Captured flags and standards — The artillery museum — Tomb of Napoleon — Anecdote of Queen Victoria — The Chapelle Expiatoire — Royal remains at Saint Denis. Notwithstanding his hatred of Paris, Louis XIV did not utterly neglect it, and one of the great works which he accomplished was that of building the " Colonnade " of the Louvre at the north side of that immense structure. The disposition is fine and of noble simplicity, but it does not resemble in the least anything else that we can see in Paris of Renaissance archi- tecture, as for instance, the Palais Royal, or the gracious Pavilion Henry IV, elsewhere men- tioned. The architect's idea in this colonnade 228 PARIS, seems to have been to purely and simply imi- tate, and in the closest possible way, the Ro- mans and the Greeks, especially the latter. This was termed classic art ; and yet this strik- ing colonnade, even though it was constructed during the reign of Louis XIV, is merely a fagade, and serves no useful purpose whatever. It is a front for show only, something to be seen from the outside, to please passers by ; and in this respect nothing could better resem- ble the grand rtyne, which also was all fagade, all for show purposes. But, there is a monument in Paris that was built by the Sun King which is indeed praise- worthy, that of the Hotel des Invalides; al- though the original idea of it belongs to Henri IV. The thought which impelled the construc- tion of that mansion was worthy of any king. •Until then the mutilated human debris of bat- tle-fields were sometimes without bread or shelter. They were seen begging along the roads, living witnesses of the ingratitude of the State. Louis XIV wished to end this sad spectacle, and he gave to the Hotel des Inva- lides a donation which was considerable for the time, when money had much greater value than in our days. HOTEL DES INVALIDES. But although the hotel could receive six thousand men it was too small for all the soldiers rendered infirm by the long wars caused by the ambition of a sovereign who wished to put his grandson on the S panish throne ; and so help in money was given those who could not be ad- mitted. This was the origin of retiring pen- sions, which since the Revolution have become the right of all those whose blood has been poured out in the service of France, and who are no longer in a fit condition to work. Under Napoleon I the organisation of the Invalides was modified and the donation rose to six million francs. This fact is not surprising on the part of a conqueror who traversed entire Europe on a war horse, leaving a line of blood behind him. The Emperor saw too much of the horrors of war not to think to attenuate as much as possible its cruel consequences. The number of old soldiers is much decreased at present, because it has been proven that with the sum required for his support a pensioner is much happier with his family, enjoying an annual revenue, than he would be at the Inva- lides. Those who live there are generally with- out relations and are consequently exposed to an unhappy existence delivered over to merce- nary hands. 230 PARIS* The Invalides has witnessed many strange scenes, and numerous personages have visited it. The year of his death, Louis XIV went there for the last time, to confirm the inmates in the privilege that they had energetically claimed, of serving him as garde dlionneur while he was in the interior of the place. The Royal bodyguard was not permitted to pene- trate futher than the entrance gate, but there awaited the return of his majesty. On the morning of July 14, 1789, the Cure of Saint Etienne du Mont, at the head of his parishioners, ran to seek arms at the Invalides. They met with the crowd which had come for the same purpose from different parts of Paris. All claimed the guns and cannon that were to serve them in taking the Bastile ; and in vain the Governor tried to gain time, by demanding orders from Versailles. The multitude threw themselves into the ditches, scaled the walls, dis- armed the sentinels, and reached the cellars where thirty thousand muskets were stored. Horses were hitched to the cannon in the front court ; but meanwhile water had been turned into the vaults and frightful disorder followed. With shrieks and yells, their torches extin- guished, men fought, each in the darkness, to THE BUKNING OF THE FLAGS. 231 escape. Many were smothered to death, but the more robust succeeded in climbing the sin- gle stairs, presented their bayonets in the face of those who still insisted on descending, and thus saved hundreds, perhaps thousands. Under the first Republic, the Royal Hotel des Invalides became the Temple of Humanity, and then the Temple of Mars. On Sunday, the 10th of August, 1793, the cortege which crossed Paris to celebrate the acceptance of the constitution stopped in the middle of the Esplanade, where stood a colossal statue which represented " the French people striking Fed- eralism with a club and throwing it into a muddy swamp." Napoleon I replaced this statue with one brought from Venice, but Aus- tria in turn took it away in 1815. On the 30th of March, 1814, at nine o'clock in the evening, in the Cour Royale, the Colo- nel-Major of the Invalides broke the sword of Frederick the Great which Napoleon had brought to Paris, and burned the fifteen-hun- dred foreign army flags suspended below the vaulted ceiling of the chapel, so that they should not fall into the hands of the allied forces who were about entering the capital. There are some mysterious vaults under the 232 PARIS. old structure, and one may see the tombs of dis- tinguished persons beneath its floors. Descend the steps, cross the cold galleries, and, by the unsteady light of torches, read on bronze plates the names of more than a hundred heroes, from the first Governor of the Invalides, who was buried in the gloomy place Nov. 10, 1678, to that of General Lasalle, instantly killed at the Battle of Wagram, but whose remains were carefully brought back to Paris. Pass between the heavy columns surrounding funeral urns : one of them contains the heart of Kleber, who perished in Egypt; in another of gray stone, on which is a serpent of green bronze, lies- the heart of Vauban ; a third holds the heart of a young woman ! A few days after the 10th of August, 1792, Monsieur de Sombreuil, charged with having taken part in the defence of the Palais des Tuileries, was arrested and taken to the Abbaye. His daughter willingly followed him, and this act of devotion sufficed for her glory before posterity. The 4th of September, in the morning, he appeared before the tribunal of Maillard and his acolytes. The accusation was formal, but if he could prove that he had not put his foot inside the Tuileries on the 10th VICTIMS OF THE GUILLOTINE. 233 of August then his life was safe. A national guardsman named Grappin generously offered to seek such proof. He ran to the Invalides and returned with a letter from the Major in charge attesting to the presence of the Gover- nor on the date in question. This did not appear to be sufficient, however, so Grappin rushed back, gathered the old soldiers in the courtyard, and secured their testimony. Hastening to the Abbaye, this time he gained his cause, and Sombreuil was set free. The legend of the young girl being compelled to drink a glass of her father's blood fades before reality. The accused was not pardoned but was acquitted; on the jail book is written in Maillard's hand : " Judged by the people, and liberated." It was not for long, however, as the un- fortunate man was again arrested, to be locked up with his daughter and his eldest son in a prison derisively called Port Libre. What the Septembrists had not done, the Revolutionary tribunal did not hesitate to do. Monsieur de Sombreuil and his son were included in the charge of June 17, 1794, on which day fifty- four condemned persons, all wearing red blouses, left the Conciergerie in eight carts, 234 PARIS. escorted by cavalry and cannon. It took them three hours to reach the barrier of the " Trone Renverse " where the scaffolding had been raised. There, with the two Sombreuils, perished many men, women, young girls, masters and servants together, all faithful to each other unto death : Madame de Saint Ama- ranthe, her son and daughter ; M. and Mme. de Sartines ; Montmorency- Lavat ; Rohane- Rochefort; Mme. d' Espremenil; Ladmiraland the porter of his house; Cecile Renault, with her father, mother, and brothers; the actress Grandmaison and her servant ; the little seam- stress Mcolle, who was not yet sixteen, etc. These unhappy victims were all interred in a cemetery which still exists in the Rue Picpus ; and this is why we shall not find the tomb of Monsieur de Sombreuil at the In- valides among those of former Governors. But in the Cemetery of the Rue Picpus, where his remains do lie, you will find the tomb of General de Lafayette, the friend of George Washington. The General lies buried there alongside of his sweet and noble wife, whose two sisters and whose duchess mother were also beheaded during the Reign of Terror. The most remarkable funeral service which MILITARY FUNERAL AT THE INVALIDES. MAESHAL MacMAHON'S FUNERAL. 235 I beheld at the Invalides was that of Marshal MacMahon. Posterity will not place the Duke of Magenta among illustrious captains, perhaps, but he possessed many good qualities, and his interment was a grand affair. Mac- Mahon, not as exPresident of the Republic, but as a Marshal of France, was given all the mili- tary and religious honours which could be paid to his remains. The spectacle was imposing in the extreme. To say that so far as the local society who have charge of all funerals at Paris was concerned, it was a burial service of the "first class," is to tell that the sacred edifice was heavily draped with black velvet outside and inside ; that an immense catafalque was erected in the middle of the building; that the four figures of Faith, Hope, Charity, and Religion were set up at the four corners thereof ; that the armorial bearings of the de- ceased Marshal, alternating with the names of the battles in which he had been engaged, were ranged in shields round the interior ; and that the whole was dimly illumined by green lights flickering in tall silvern lampadaires. But what cannot be imagined is the effect produced by the torn trophies of many cam- paigns hung from the ceiling of this chapel, and 236 PARIS. by the grand music of the ceremony. A mili- tary band of sixty pieces was stationed in the gallery over the front doors, while near the organ loft was a small orchestra of wood and stringed instruments, and down by the altar, in front of the officiating clergymen, stood a score of drummers, old and young men, who at cer- tain places in the solemn ceremony rolled their instruments. The contrast between the stream- ing melody that flowed down from the gallery and the small orchestra of violins was not more striking than was the sound of the roll of drums and the voices of men of God praying for the soul of the dead soldier. At the con- clusion of the religious ceremony the coffin was carried out of the chapel and placed in position on the broad esplanade, where all the Army of Paris defiled before it, officers saluting, and flags being dipped as the body was passed; and there the Marshal held his last review be- fore retiring to rest forever beneath the gilded dome which symbolises the gratitude of France to the defenders of her fame. The Republic had pardoned the faults of the political man because of the virtues of the soldier. There are three great things to be seen at the Invalides : the Chapel, decorated with THE MUSEUM OF ARTILLERY. 237 many captured flags and standards which long since replaced those burned in 1814 to prevent their falling into the hands of the Allies ; the Artillery Museum ; and the Tomb of Napoleon under the gilded dome. The flags in the Ar- tillery Museum and in the Chapel, those taken from an enemy, are not so numerous now as they were in 1814, when there were more than fifteen hundred. As has been already stated those were burned, but it was found necessary to repeat the order three times before the old soldiers would obey. Some other flags captured in the wars of the First Republic and of the First Empire were accidentally burned in 1851, and there are really no more than a hundred or so now hanging up over the Chapel nave. These were mostly taken from the enemy in Algeria, in the Crimea, in Italy, in China, in Mexico, and in the Tonkin. One flag came from Sebas- topol ; it is yellow and shows the double-headed eagle of Russia, while the white one opposite it once floated above the Tower of Malakoff. Among this choice lot is a Union Jack that was captured on board an English brig in 1813, also eight Pasha-tails taken in Egypt by General Bonaparte. The Museum of Artillery harbours twelve 238 PARIS. captured flags, and it also possesses a specimen of all French flags for the past century ; but it only has four standards of the same origin an- terior to the French Revolution. This collec- tion would be enormous if it were not necessary to deduct those burned by ministerial decision with each change of government. There re- main, however, nine flags of the Restoration, sixteen of the July Monarchy, nine ensigns of the Republic of 1848, and ninety-seven Imper- ial ensigns of the Second Empire, most of which made the campaigns of the Crimea and of Italy. Since the present Republic was founded, this Museum has received ten ensigns, or fragments thereof, which escaped the disasters of the fate- ful war of 1870-71. The remains of Bonaparte were brought back from St. Helena by King Louis Philippe, but it was while Louis Napoleon was on the throne that the Invalides was made the Imperial tomb that it now is. It is not generally known that there was quite a scandal in connection with the installa- tion or inauguration of that mausoleum. Napo- leon III, all his Ministers, Prince-Marshal Je- rome and several Generals had assembled at the Tuileries to arrange the programme. Some AN IMPERIAL TOMB. 239 important details had been agreed upon, when one of the Generals observed that Napoleon I being the founder of, and having thus entered, with his posterity, into the series of French Sovereigns, the better way for them to do would be to follow the practice shown toward other French monarchs and bury the remains in two places, the body in the triumphal mausoleum under the dome of the Invalides, the heart at Saint Denis. Thereupon Prince Jerome sprang to his feet and most energetically declared that not so long as he lived should the remains of his glorious brother be thus mutilated. His re- marks produced a profound sensation, and for a few moments not another word was spoken. Then the Emperor adjourned the meeting, and the inauguration was postponed. Finally, however, all parties were satisfied, and the mortal remains of the great man who has written in his will, " Je veux reposer aux bords de la Seine, dans les lieux que j'ai tant aimes," were sealed up in a sarcophagus that weighs ninety thousand pounds and alone cost sixty thousand dollars. It was made from a single block of reddish Finland quartz, dotted all over with golden spots, and of such hard- ness that it could be cut only by multiplied 240 PARIS, machinery. The block was quarried at Kost- ckoka, on the shore of Lake Onega, and was the gift of the Czar of Eussia. It was brought to Paris by way of Lake Onega, the Koyr river, Lake Ladoga, the river Neva, Cronstadt, the Baltig Sea, the English Channel, the port of Havre, and thence up the River Seine to the Quai d'Orsay. It cost fifteen hundred dollars to remove the massive stone from that quay to the Invalides; and, strange to say, the con- tractor who had brought it from Eussia was obliged to pay a Custom House duty of one thousand dollars before he was permitted to start with it from Havre. The four chapels which surround the Em- peror's resting-place are labeled St. Augustin, St. Ambroise, St. Gregoire and St. Jerome, this last in memory of Napoleon's brother. These chapels are all closed to the public by heavy iron-barred gates, and it is between them that the tombs of Turenne and of Vauban are placed, with Napoleon's crypt uncovered. There was a time, toward the end of his reign, when Louis Napoleon was for transforming the church where his uncle reposed into a family vault, destined exclusively for the Imperial Dynasty which he then represented. Each of the four napoleon's resting-place. QUEEN VICTOKIA'S HOMAGE. 241 chapels were to contain a tomb of one of Napo- leon's brothers, but as things happened Jerome alone secured this honour. After that Louis Napoleon had another notion ; he was for trans- ferring the remains of the Emperor as well as those of all other members of his family, to Saint Denis, but that project was never real- ised. Apropos of this tomb of Napoleon, another great French soldier, Marshall Canrobert des- cribes a touching incident of interest to all Anglo-Saxons in his " Memoirs," but recently published. 1 At the end of the Crimean war Queen Victoria, accompanied by her husband, and their two oldest children, visited Paris, and while there were taken to the Invalides to see the tomb which was then being erected. The remains of the great Emperor were already there, but not in the magnificent place they now occupy. After looking at it for a few moments in silence the Queen, placing her hand on the shoulder of the Prince of Wales — now King of England — said : " Kneel down before the tomb of the Great Napoleon,' 7 and young Albert Edward obeyed. i " Le Marechel Canrobert; " Souvenirs (Tun Siecle : Plon-Nouriet et Oie., Paris. 242 PARIS. It may be added that France, wliicli does not possess, as England does in Westminster, an illustrious necropolis for great men, is always undecided where, their remains shall be placed. While Victor Hugo and President Carnot, with some few others, sleep their eternal rest in the vaults of the Pantheon, while Gambetta reposes in the land lighted by the smiling sun of the Mediterranean, only a few Generals have been interred at the Invalides ; and yet it would seem that under the dome where lies the body of the greatest captain France has ever known would be the natural last resting-place of great soldiers. Many years ago there was a royal place of burial within the limits of the capital, a spot lying between the Boulevard Haussmann and the Rue des Mathurins, in the very heart of Paris, and which a quarter of a century back presented a very different appearance from its present aspect. Then, surrounded by a large garden and shut in by high walls, it had the mournful and desolate character becoming to such a place of sepulchre. Willows, yews, firs, with other shrubbery of sombre foliage, bor- dered the outskirts of the place like a hedge- row, and gave those who passed the enclosure melancholy impressions. BUEIAL OF A KING AND A QUEEN. 243 But the opening of the Boulevard Haussmann changed all that, and the famous Baron-Prefet transferred the lugubrious hypogeum into a coquettish square, decorating in the style of the day the monument which commemorates one of the most frightful events in the history of Paris. There in the old kitchen garden of the Benedictines of La Ville l'Eveque, trans- formed into a cemetery, were buried the victims of the marriage festivities of the Dauphin, and there, too, were interred some of the Swiss killed on- August 10 in the service of a king who did not wish them to fight. To this place, also, in January 21, 1793, as night was falling, an ash-cart, escorted by a rabble from the Place de la Revolution, brought the mutilated body of the descendant of a race of kings. On the day of his consecration, and according to old monarchical custom, Louis XVI reclined for a moment in a velvet burial robe, embroid- ered with golden fleurs de lys, and this robe had always accompanied the Kings of France during their lives. But now the unfortunate monarch, who had once borne this sumptuous funeral garb, was buried in a cheap shroud, like the poorest of his subjects. The Republicans of France showed little respect for the dead King ; 244 PAEIS. they threw his body and head in a ditch dug the day before, covered it with quicklime, and that was all. On October 16 following, another ash-cart stopped before the gate of the small cemetery ; it carried, covered by a cheap black gown and petticoat, the bloody trunk and whitened head of a woman of thirty-eight — all that remained of the once triumphant beauty of Versailles and the petit Trianon ; all that remained of the sov- ereign to whom the city of Nancy, on her ar- rival on French soil, had offered a bed. of roses. On the return of the Bourbons, the bodies of Louis XVI, of Marie Antoinette and of Madame Elizabeth were removed to Saint Denis, and a monument of doubtful taste, which has since been a place of pilgrimage for Royal- ists, without the faintest effort of the Republic to prevent it, was erected to commemorate their first burial ground. As a matter of fact, however, the real Royal place of sepulchre was never within the fortifi- cations of Paris. That place was out at Saint Denis, a village but a short distance from the capital, and where under the high vaults of a rural church, under recumbent stone statues representing themselves, nearly fifty Kings of ROYALTY AT SAINT DENIS. 245 France and fifty Queens were once sleeping an eternal and everlasting sleep. From the time of Dagobert I, and passing by Hugues Capet, Saint Louis, Frangois I, Henri IV, Louis XIII, and Louis XIV, up to tlie last Majesty cold in death and waiting in its Bourbon crypt, all of those who for fifteen hundred and more years had been, if not the glory at least the rep- resentation of France were reposing in the old church of Saint Denis, a few miles from Paris. The tombs, disseminated in the chapels, or stuffed into the crypt, had become so numerous that there was hardly room enough for another Royal corpse when the Revolution broke forth. Then the Convention first ordered the destruc- tion of those tombs, and after that the viola- tion of their coffins. On the 6th of August, 1793, a crowd led by the Mayor of Saint Denis, rushed into the old church. This mayor had been a priest ; now he stood up to shout, in half-drunken notes, the " Hymn to Mars " or u Cadet Roussille " where only a short while before he had preached the word of God. The crowd advanced to the altar, a little surprised, if not ashamed, at their own conduct, not having as yet lost all respect for holy places. 246 PARIS. They entered one of the chapels where, along- side of Du Guesclin and Louis de Sancorne, re- posed King Charles V and his wife, next Charles VI, and then Charles VII, to whom a child of the people had handed the royal crown. The crowd struck hard the " hated figures of these tyrants " with their hammers, and with cries of joy saluted each hideous break in the recumbent statues. They refused to destroy the tomb of Turenne because it had not been raised to the glory of a ci-devant King, but they were less sparing with the tomb of Du Guesclin, only the effigy of it being saved. When they had tired of breaking off noses, fingers, feet and heads from statues, they opened a few coffins, because it had long been believed that most of them contained great treasures ; but all they found was a little gold wire in that of Pepin and the signet ring of Castille. On each coffin was an inscription cut on a small slab of lead or copper, and these were torn off. Inside of three days fifty-one royal graves were thus desecrated and destroyed ; but as yet the mad people were not satisfied. They had broken the images of their kings, now they were determined to attack the mortal remains DESECRATING THE GRAVES. 247 of those majesties. First of all tlie " citizens " of Saint Denis, with whom were joined several conventionnels from Paris, stopped before the tomb of Turenne, and soon his coffin was torn open, the dried-up corpse was removed, put into an oaken box and deposited in the sacristy, where it was kept on exhibition for eight months. In the mean time all the teeth were pulled out and sold one by one as souvenirs. Finally, the remains were taken to the Jardin des Plantes, where they rested two years, after which they were solemnly deposited in the Tem- ple of Mars, ci-devant church of the Invalides. A short while after the mob had attacked Turenne's tomb they were joined by Robes- pierre, who insisted that the vault of the Bour- bons should be found at once, and it was found, the secret entrance to it being just before and to the right of the high altar. This door was opened, a party descended into the crypt, and at the foot of the stone steps they came on the coffin of Louis XV. A little further along, side by side and ranged in the same line, were twenty tombs or graves on the left ; while on the right were the tombs of Henri IV and of Marie de Medicis. As it was impossible to carry the coffin of that King up the narrow 248 PARIS. steps, a hole was broken through the wall of the church, and thus the remains of Henri IV were raped from the spot where they had been resting during two centuries. CHAPTER XIII. Back again to the great century — Senseless adoration of Louis XIV— The Porte Saint Martin and Porte Saint Denis — Creation of the Place des Conquetes —Equestrian Statue of the "Sun King "—The Vendome Column — Its many incidents and hap- penings — Overthrown by the Communists — Anec- dote of General Bonaparte — Effigy of the famous Captain at its top — Institut de France — Its five great academies — Their annual convention — The Forty Immortals. Let us hark back again to the Grand Steele, to the age of adulation of " Lui tou jours, lui partout," him always, him everywhere, as was said of Louis XIV. In painting, in mosaics, in stone, in marble, in bronze, in literature, even in the pulpit, it was, under all aspects and in every form, the " Sun King" who was most in evidence. It was as if there were no other person under Heaven, no other thing on earth worth painting, worth sculpturing, worth sing- ing or writing about, or worth talking of. The Porte Saint Martin, in the boulevard, is a striking example of this senseless adoration. 250 PAEIS. It is a massive fabrication, but why should such an arch as that ever have been erected in the middle of a public street is more than any one can tell. True, it is not without artistic merit, and it would never do to pull it down, for it is a splendid historical monument, but the inscrip- tion, in golden letters, LUDOVICO MAGNO, put there while he was still living, is rather out of place in a busy thoroughfare. The Porte Saint Denis, close by, is less heavy and more elegant, but it bears the same inscrip- tion, and is another chant of the same flattery. These two triumphal arches were not enough for the great conqueror, however. He erected the Porte Saint Antoine, near the Bastille ; he built the Porte St. Bernard and placed on it the inscription, " A la Providence de Louis le Grand " ; and he started another arch on the Place du Trone, but it was never finished. % Not yet satisfied, he created the Place des Victoires, and in the centre of this round space, on a marble pedestal enclosed by an iron fence, stood Louis XIV being crowned by Victory and stamping a monster, emblem of resistance to conquest, under his feet. Four kneeling slaves in chains represented humiliated nations, while at the four corners of the pedestal were SENSELESS ADORATION OF LOUIS XIV. 251 four lamps, and this inscription, VIRO IM- MORTAL!, was written over all. That statue was destroyed in 1792, however, and the eques- trian one which now ornaments the Place des Victoires was put there in 1822. Thirteen years passed, and the " Sun King " again began to crown himself with splendour. This time it was the creation of the Place des Conquetes on the site of a vast and lordly man- sion, together with the ruins of a monastery. Caesar de Vendome, the natural son of Henri IV, became the owner of a mansion which the Duke de Retz had erected during the reign of Charles IX, with gardens extending on one side from the Tuileries to the boulevards, and on the other adjoined a Capucin convent. The estate remained in the hands of the Vendome family until 1680, when Louvois purchased it in order to place there a private library for and an equestrian statue of Louis XIV by the King's command. The statue was inaugurated in August, 1699, with a display of splendour which recalled the most brilliant days of that reign. Overwhelmed by the epidemic scourges of 1692 and 1693, France was hardly beginning to recover when a new scourge of famine ap- peared ; but the mortality then raging among 252 PAEIS. tlie poor and working class did not cause the putting off of that ceremony. Of the entire Court one man only refused to assist at the display, and he was the Duke de Bourgogne, grandson of the King and pupil of the illustri- ous Fenelon. The old convent with other houses were torn down, and the f agades as they exist to-day were constructed. The place is an equilateral square with the corners cut off and whose sides are four hundred and thirty-six feet long, all the houses being uniform in their architecture. Under the Regency, the Hotel Quinquam- poix having become too small to hold all the speculators whom " Mississippi " Law was driving mad, stock gambling was transferred to the Place Vendome, into the very presence of the King, and under the windows of the Minister of Justice. The revolution having come on, the bronze king on a bronze horse was overthrown, and the square was renamed, Place des Piques ; but habit preserved its old name of Vendome. After the campaign of 1806, Napoleon I con- ceived the project of erecting a column to the glory of his army in the Place. That monu- ment, finished in 1810, was cast oat of the THE COLUMN VEJNTDOME, 253 bronze of 1200 cannons captured from Russians and Austrians, and it was intended to be a durable monument of success and glory, raised rather to the honour of a great nation than to that of a single man. It was one hundred and forty-eight feet high, and was built of cutj stone covered over with four hundred and twenty-five bronze plates, representing in a con- tinual spiral the memorable events of Napoleon's campaigns. One hundred and seventy steps inside the column led up to where, at the top, the Emperor stood, dressed in imperial robes, with a crown on his head and holding a scep- tre. Guy de Maupassant has left on record an agreeable anecdote of this column. Bonaparte, then only a major in the French artillery, had been dining at the house of General d'Anger- ville, brother-in-law to Berthier, and, with Madame Talien leaning on his arm, was walk- ing through the Place des Piques. Berthier and d'Angerville, who lived in one of the houses surrounding the square, were also of the party. "Your square is quite lost, General," said the future Emperor to d' Angerville ; " What it needs is something in the centre like a Trajan column, or a monumental tomb to hold 254 PARIS. the remains of the bravest soldiers who have died for their country. " Madame d 7 Angerville said she preferred a column to a tomb in front of her residence , whereupon Bonaparte laugh- ingly remarked: "Well, my dear madame, some day when Berthier and I are also generals, you shall have your column." He kept his word after the battle of Austerlitz. In 1814, when Paris was occupied by the Allies, the Russians wanted to overthrow this monument of their defeats, but they were only permitted to pull down the statue. From that time until 1830 the column was surmounted by a fleurs de lys nearly five feet high, and above that was a tall staff from which floated a white flag. The year when Thiers and his French troops were at Versailles, and the Prussians were still on the soil of France, madmen perpetrated many inglorious acts, and one of them was the attempted destruction of this monument. A man whose wife kept a large millinery establish- ment, at the corner of the Place Vendome and the Rue Castiglione, begged the mob not to tear it down ; and his wife even offered them one million francs if they would leave it un- molested. But they demanded two million, and VARIOUS STATUES OF NAPOLEON. 255 that sum not being forthcoming, they accom- plished their vandal act. The Communists were led by Courbet, a famous painter, who left a large fortune at his death, and, after a long lawsuit his heirs were forced to pay the cost of reconstructing the column. It was re- built in 1874. The colossal image of Napoleon, which stands now at the summit of the Colonne Vendome is not the original, however; and it is worth re- cording here that on the morrow of the entrance of the Allies into Paris the column itself would have been destroyed from top to bottom, but for the intervention of the foreigners. As it was the drapecm fleur de lise } which replaced the statue by Chaudet after the Emperor's exile to Elba, in turn disappeared during the One Hundred Days, to reappear, however, with the second Restoration. In 1832 a new statue of Napoleon, of a model quite different from that of Chaudet, replaced the white flag. Its sculp- tor, M. Seurre, represented the Emperor in his traditional costume of the u Little Corporal," that is to say, wearing a cocked hat and a long gray redingote. A reduction of this statue is in the museum at Versailles. Napoleon III, no doubt finding that the dynastic idea was in- 256 PARIS. sufficiently symbolised in the Seurre figure, commanded that the Petit Caporal should make way for Caesar, and then was seen — third avatar of the Napoleonic effigy on the Vendome Col- umn — an antique statue of nude legs, t with a Victory in his hand and a chlamyde over his shoulders, in the place of the modern emperor and his long frock coat. But the column and its colossal image was not yet at the end of its misfortunes. Six days before the troops from Versailles had retaken Paris, the Colonne Vendome was overthrown by orders of the insurrectional government. And when it came down with a mighty crash an immense clamour of " Vive la Commune ! " arose from the crowd, even as a great cry of u Vive le Hoi ! " had gone up when the statue of Napoleon fell the 8th of April, 1814. Finally, the column and its crowning statue, as it now stands, was erected in 1874. At first it was a question of replacing the figure of the emperor with one of France, but that resolution was abandoned, and a statue of the great cap- tain was put at the top of the glorious column. It is not very far from this splendid Place Vendome to the whereabouts of the French Academy. INSTITUT DE FRANCE. 257 There may be other countries which have Academies that rival, in illustrious membership and by the importance of their works, either one of the five which, combined, form the Insti- tut de France, but in Paris alone is the one organisation where all the best eiforts of the human mind are bound together: where the historian, the poet, the journalist, the play- wright, the critic, the publicist, the philosopher, the philologist, the chemist, the botanist, the mathematician, the physician, the astronomer, the naturalist, the novelist, the economist, the juriconsulist, the sculptor, the painter, the musician and the engineer are under the same roof. It was the last but one day of the French convention (An 3 of the Revolution) when the law was passed that established the Institut de France, the object of which was the progress of science, literature, and art, as well as the general utility and glory oi the First Republic. This institute is comprised of five academies — the French Academy, the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres, the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences, the Academy of Sciences, and the Academy of Fine Arts. The first of these was founded in 1635 by Cardinal Richelieu, and has but forty 258 PAEIS. members. The second, also founded in 1635, but by Colbert, is, like tile French Academy, composed of forty regular members, although it has in addition, ten honorary, fifty corres- ponding, and eight foreign members. The Academy of Moral and Political Sciences dates from 1666, but it was suppressed in 1803, to be re-established in 1832. As now organised, it is divided into eight sections — philosophy, ethics, legislation, political economy, jurispru- dence, finance and statistics, general history, and an honorary section, in which there are ten members ; while there are only eight, all of them regular members, in each of the other sections. The Academy of Sciences was founded in 1666, and its sixty-five members are divided into eleven sections, each of which is charged with a distinct branch of the natural sciences ; ten honorary and one hundred corresponding members complete this, the most numerous branch of the institute. The Academy of Fine Arts was founded in 1819, and contains forty members, divided into five sections — painting, sculpture, architecture, engraving and music. "When the Institut de France was finally created it was necessary to find a shelter for the body of savants, literary men, and artists that its ITS FIVE GREAT ACADEMIES. 259 membership included, and as there was a large edifice on the site of the famous Tour de Nesle, which Cardinal Mazarin had had built in 1661, it was resolved to establish the Institute in it, and since then his old palace has been called on to reign over intelligence, to impose its laws, and to distribute its rewards — pacific laurels not less noble, and much more useful, than all the warlike laurels that were ever wreathed. Each of the five academies is independent of the other, and has the free disposal of its funds and its separate state appropriation, which it manages under the supervision of the Ministiy of Public Instruction, but the library is com- mon property. Each Academy holds a weekly meeting, and yearly, on the 25th of October, all five unite in an annual session, which is one of the great literary solemnities of the Paris year. It has been remarked that no other country has so complete an organisation of all the besfc efforts of the human mind as the French Insti- tute ; but it is not pretended that that institution is perfect in every respect, or that it does not need reforming. Generally speaking, however, it is an Institution deserving of the highest praise, and it certainly is one of the essential 260 PAKIS, elements of intellectual labour in tlie French Republic. It is undoubted that the intellectual regime of France does not equal that of the United States, or of England, or of Germany. The political centralisation in France — that is to say, the reunion of all authority and of all the forces of the State in the hands of the govern- ment, does not permit of numerous and power- ful Universities or Colleges like Harvard, Yale, Pennsylvania, Cornell, Princeton, Chicago, Columbia, etc., in the United States, like Ox- ford and Cambridge in England, or like Bonn and Heidelberg in Germany. The late M. Penan is my authority for the assertion that with the French u science and education are distinct things, which are often jealous of and enemies of each other." This is, perhaps, not so true now as it was when he said it; but the distinction is still well pre- served, and the regime of pure intellectual liberty does not yet seem to agree with the French people. Still, it cannot be denied that, in the domains of physical sciences, in astronomy, in geography, in belles-lettres, in botany, in political and moral sciences, in medi- cine and surgery, and in the fine arts — espe- THE ACADEMIE FKAN£AISE. 261 cially music and painting — no other nation can make a better showing than France at the present time. But if the five Academies which constitute the Institute are powerful bodies whose mem- berships are, in the main, made up of brainy men, one of them is perhaps more universally known than the others, I refer to the Academie Fran- chise. The great interest which attaches to that famous body in the choice of its members, its works, the awards it gives, its general raison d'etre is not without considerable im- portance throughout the world. There is a sort of universal good feeling toward that In- stitution for the splendid examples it has fur- nished ; it is remembered, too, that it has been the cradle of state's equality in Europe, and for a long while, its independence has been one of its greatest merits. It forms in itself a little republic, and it is, so to speak, the " hon- our of the French republic," for nowhere could the inscription, u Liberte, Egalite, Fra- ternite," be written more apropos than on its walls. The elections to membership among its illus- trious body of men are without preliminary examination and discussion. The other Acade- 262 PARIS, mies of the French Institute indulge in more of ceremony ; they name committees and hear reports, which formalities cause delays that make the operation last during an entire month, sometimes two of them. But the French Academy never has special committees, it never has reports as to the comparative value of can- didates, though, like the other Academies, it used to have a general discussion one week be- fore the election. Twenty-five or thirty years ago Academicians discovered the inconvenience of such discussion, and they saw none in si- lence — this in itself included a great idea. It rests on the principle that no person will dare knock at the door of the French Academy un- less he is already celebrated. For the same reason no public sign is manifested over an election. The Academy does not even write to the chosen one. The great idea is that an election at the French Academy is such an im- portant event that no one can be ignorant of it, and the elected must learn of it, as everybody else does, by the press or public talk. An election is comprised of two operations : first, the candidate poses his candidature ; secondly, the Academy, after having heard the reading of the letters of candidature, proceeds to vote. THE FOKTY IMMORTALS. 263 A letter of candidature is required, for the Academy does not seek the candidate, the can- didate seeks the Academy. There are never more than forty members ; they need not be native born, but they must be French citizens, and they must live in Paris to be eligible. The day when the French Academy became one of the Institutions of the monarchy, literary men had gained rank and position in society ; and by right of commitimus, the forty academicians became the equals of Officers of the Crown, of Dukes and Peers, even of Royal Princes. Equality was raised to be an immovable princi- ple, for the forty had no one person among them who dominated or effaced his fellows. De- spite the liberty they had in choosing their officers, they did not even have a President. It is a Director elected for two months who represents the company on important occasions. The Secretary alone, guardian of traditions, and charged with everything, is perpetually in office, while their arm chairs, as with the col- lars of the Golden Fleece, are transmitted from predecessor to successor. And so the Academy is that Institution in the world toward which every man in France who is great or gifted has ambitious longings, while 264 PARIS. only a few are chosen. It is an Institution of great merit, as are also tlie other four branches of the Institute, for that matter, and each deserves the high reputation which it uni- versally enjoys. As for the palace in which they meet, it is a large, cold, classic, severe structure on the left bank of the River Seine at the very begin- ning of the Latin Quarter. Everything is solemn, everything is silent about it. Pacific bronze lions guard access to the building and to its library. The public meeting-room con- tains about one thousand seats, and whenever there is a public function in the place this hall is crowded by those who are honoured with in- vitations to that event. CHAPTER XIV. Upon the hill of Sainte Genevieve — A land of church and university — The Shepherd girl of Nanterre — A patriotic and heroic saint — Vow of King Louis XV — An edifice topped with cross and dome called the Pantheon — Interments in its gloomy vaults — Burial-place of Victor Hugo — The Church of the Madeleine — Why Napoleon started its construction — Its destination changed — Death of the first architect — Like unto a Greek Temple, but really a House of God. The Roman people and their Senators, a long way ahead of the advent of eclecticism, prided themselves on having conquered and con- fiscated all gods, even as they had conquered and confiscated nearly all the countries of the ancient world. Before the rotunda of Agrippa was erected, Rome had consecrated her altars to the unknown gods; for as religion with the ancients was little more than a glorification of the forces of Nature, represented by more or less fabulous personages, it is easy to under- stand why these Romans united all these figures within the same circle. They even deified their Emperors. 266 PAEIS. The time cgme when the French capital also determined to have its Pantheon, and the spot and buildings already existed for that purpose. The summit of the hill where the Paris Pan- theon now raises its gigantic dome was occu- pied centuries before by the Abbey of Sainte Genevieve; the church of Saint Etienne du Mont and its cemetery; the colleges of Na- varre, of Boucourt, of the Ave Maria, of For- tet, of Montaigne, of Sainte Barbe, of the Cholets, and of Lisieux; the little church of Saint Etienne des-Gres, and the Convent of the Jacobins. It was a land of Church and University; while " afar off " the Abbey and the convent grounds touched the walls of King Philippe Augustus. The region, where silence reigned save when the many bells were ringing, became animated every year at the beginning of January when, " from twenty leagues around," pilgrims hurried up to Sainte Genevieve, and then a pro- cession marched through the town. To prepare themselves for this solemnity, the hundred and fifty Canons fasted during three days ; next they descended from " la montagne" and walked the streets with bare feet, the Abbot at their head, wearing his cross and mitre. These were A PATRIOTIC SAINT. 267 accompanied by a crowd of young girls from the seven parishes of Notre Dame, officers of the Grand Chatelet, members of Parliament in red robes, the Governor of Paris, the Prevot of the Merchants and his Echevins, goldsmiths carrying the chair of Saint Marcel, and twenty bourgeois, dressed in white, bearing Sainte Gen- evieve, sparkling with gold and pearls, rubies and emeralds. Genevieve was a patriotic and heroic saint. It was she who reassured the Parisians when they were about to fly before the Huns. While the people were defending Paris against Clovis, she succeeded in reaching the capital with eleven boats from Champagne loaded with eat- ables. She would not open the gates of the city to the king until he had promised to respect the privileges of the old municipality, then being defended by the Nautes and Bishop Heraclius. So the legend runs. King Clovis built a church on a hill, which was called the Church of Sainte Genevieve after the mortal remains of the Shepherd Girl of Nanterre had been buried there. It was destroyed by the Normans during one of their many invasions ; then bye and bye the Abbey of Sainte Genevieve was constructed on the site. 268 PARIS. In 1724 Louis XV, very sick at Metz, a city which then belonged to France, vowed that if lie got well there should be another church erected on the hill of Sainte Genevieve, and Heaven seems to have helped the lover of Madame du Barry, for he was soon cured of his illness. Work on the sacred edifice was commenced at once, by a young architect named Soufflot. He had lived several years at Rome, and this was why he determined that the basil- ica which the king had commanded should be an example of the classic art, in the form of a Greek cross, and topped with a dome like that over St. Peter's. Work progressed rapidly, and already the stone base of this dome was being laid on the thirty-six columns which were to sustain it, when Soufflot saw the mass crack- ing and the edifice was threatening to tumble down. Rondelet saved the structure by sub- stituting for the plastered and isolated columns a heavy massive masonry which may not have been very graceful to look on, but certainly was quite solid. Suddenly there was no money, and work ceased on the Basilica of Sainte Gen- evieve, which was intended to be a Catholic Church, for all at once great political changes occurred throughout France. The Tuileries, CHURCH OF SAINTE GENEVIEVE. 269 palace of Louis XVI, lodged the Convention ; the Luxembourg, palace of " Monsieur," became a prison ; the Palais Bourbon was turned into a Polytechnic; the Church of the Petits Peres was the Bourse ; the Cathedral of Notre Dame was the Temple of the Goddess of Reason ; and a transformation of the Abbey of Sainite Gene- vieve was also brought about. Its cloistered buildings were transformed into a Lycee, the ancient church was demolished — all except its bell tower, which is now a part of the Lycee Henri IV — and a street called Rue Clovis was constructed through the square. The bones of Sainte Genevieve were burned on the Place de Greve where the Hotel de Ville now stands ; the reliquary was taken to the mint and melted; but the four statues of women which supported this shrine found grace with the destroyers and are to-day in the Louvre. The basilica of Louis XV, now empty and desolate, was awaiting its destiny when early one morning Paris heard of the death of Mirabeau. All the theatres were closed, the authorities put on mourning, and orations were improvised in the public squares. The Assemble Rationale determined that Mira- beau should have a tomb worthy of his name 270 PARIS. and reputation. It was decreed that lie should be buried in the new church of Sainte Gene- vieve and that thereafter it should be the sepul- chre of all citizens who should merit such interment of their country. On the fronton this inscription was engraved: "Aux Grands Hommes, La Patrie Reconnaissante," and the structure was called Pantheon. Other apotheoses soon succeeded. The re- mains of Voltaire were dragged up out of their grave in the church of Romilly and brought to Paris to be placed in the new temple. In turn, Beaurepaire, an officer in the army who com- mitted suicide to escape surrendering his forces, the Deputy Lepelletier, assassinated for having voted the death of Louis XVI, the two heroes Barra and Vial a, also Marat and Jean Jacques Rousseau were buried there. One day Mirabeau had exclaimed, " I know that it is only a short distance from the Capitol to the Tarpeian rock." Very like a prophesy, that ; for at the very moment when the Con- ventional, who two months before had immo- lated Robespierrre, were conducting the remains of Marat to the Pantheon, those of Mirabeau were being thrown out of the Temple to Great Men. This act was termed " depantheonisa- CHANGES IN THE PANTHEON. 271 tion " at the time ; the word was not more bar- baric than the thing itself. But Mirabeau's tomb was not the only one thus despoiled, for Marat's body was dragged out in February, 1795, and buried elsewhere. A degree of Napoleon I, issued in 1804, restored the Pantheon to the Catholic church, but he also made it the place of sepulchre of those in the army and navy, or in civic adminis- tration who had rendered eminent services to the country. The downfall of the Empire brought about another change. The inscription on its front was cut away, « and a short while later some labourers, conducted by a nobleman of the King's chamber, went at night to the tombs of Voltaire and Rousseau, put their remains in a sack, carried them away, and scattered them along the Bievre rivulet hard by. Louis Philippe, who was a " citizen king," and founder of the best of Republics, closed the church to re-open it as a temple, and with his own hands nailed up the four bronze plates which bore the names of the victims of 1830. When Napoleon III was well seated on the throne the building became once more the Church of Sainte Genevieve, and so it remained 272 PAEISo until 1881, when all its priests were turned out, and once more it was set apart as a burial-place for great men. The interment of Victor Hugo in the Pantheon vaults was a grand ceremony; but that of President Carnot, who had been assassinated, was equally impressive. Situated at the Western extremity of that splendid thoroughfare known in Paris as the Boulevard, 1 and facing the Place de la Concorde through the Rue Royale, with the Chamber of Deputies in the near distance but beyond the river, the Church of the Madeleine is one of the most striking objects in Paris, and before whose iron palings a great throng of people and vehicles are forever passing. It is not, however, because it is a church that it is men- tioned now; churches will find their place further on. In the twelfth century the place where it stands, as well as a portion of the streets and lands surrounding it, were covered with fields and vineyards, distant somewhat from the capital. About that time the Bishops of Paris established near the spot a country residence and chapel, which was called Ville PEveque. 2 1 As a matter of fact this boulevard changes its name twelve or thirteen times between the Place de la Bastille and the Madeleine. 2 An adjoining street still bears the name of Eue de la Ville de TEveque. THE CHUKCH OF THE MADELEINE. 273 Two centuries later, the erection of numerous houses around the Episcopal property having made that suburb somewhat populous, Charles VIII had the old chapel pulled down and a much larger place of worship erected. He founded there the Order of the Confrerie of the Madeleine, which gave name to the newly- constructed chapel. The King and Queen declared themselves members of this Brother- hood, and the Chapel was consecrated as the Sainte Madeleine de la Ville T^veque. In less than two centuries more the popula- tion of the faubourg had so greatly increased that a church superceded the chapel, Made- moiselle de Montpensier laying the first stone of it in 1659. The increase in size which the capital underwent during the reigns of Louis XIV and Louis XV necessitated the taking in of that faubourg, and then, as soon as the Rue Royale was finished, the Court and Bishops beg^n to think about reconstructing this Church on a more extensive plan, something that would be worthy to figure as a companion piece to the Palais Bourbon and the Place Louis XV, both of which were completed in 1754. The first stone of the new church was laid by the King in April, 1764, but the build- 274 PARIS. ing was hardly fifteen feet above ground when the architect died, and his successor at once changed all his plans. If we may believe some contemporary writers, the new plan was no more or less than that of reproducing the Pan- theon of Rome in Paris, and the work was progressing fairly well when the Revolution broke forth. In 1793 the unfinished structure was demolished ; and it was in the cemetery of that unbuilt church that the mortal remains of Louis XVI and of Marie Antoinette were buried. Between 1796 and 1799 several new projects were presented for the erection on the site of some monument that would be worthy of the Great Nation. Its destination was to be en- tirely changed ; some proposed the erection of a Legislative Hall, others a National Museum, or a Public Library, others still a Theatre or a Market House. The architects of Paris were waiting the decision of the government, when a decree, dated at Posen, December 2, 1806, made known the intentions of the Emperor in the premises. That historical decree began with an article worded as follows: " There shall be established on the site of the Made- leine, in our good city of Paris, at the expense A MONUMENT TO THE GKANDE AKMEE. 275 of the Crown, a monument dedicated to the army and it shall have inscribed on its front : " The Emperor Napoleon to the Soldiers of the Grande Armee." The rest of the decree provided for the erection of tablets in the in- terior of the monument inscribed with the names of all the men, arranged by army corps and by regiments, who had taken part in the battles of Ulm, Austerlitz and Jena, and of tablets of massive gold inscribed with the names of all who had died on the battlefield ; while on tablets of silver were to be inscribed the names of all the soldiers who had been in the great army. Due provision was made for the further decoration of the monument with statues, bas-reliefs, etc., and for annual celebra- tions of the anniversaries of the three battles mentioned, and on which occasions, so it was expressly written in the decree, it was forbid- den to make any mention whatever of the Emperor. Out of ninety-two plans presented, four were selected and sent to Napoleon I, who was then at Tilsitt. The Institute, which had been directed by the decree to pass on the plans presented, had in its report selected that of M. Beaumont as being most in accordance with 27G PARIS. the imposed conditions. The Emperor thought differently, however, and gave preference to the plans of Pierre Vignon, who was ordered to begin work at once. The work was going on well enough when it was interrupted again by another political event, the abdication of Napoleon and the return of the Bourbons. Again the monument changed its destination, being now restored to the Roman Catholic re- ligion. M. Vignon continued the work with this latter end in view until his death in 1828, when the government appointed M. Huet, architect, and he completed the structure in 1843. The Church of the Madeleine presents the shape of a large parallelogram surrounded by Corinthian columns sixty- two feet high. Its im- posing appearance unites, in a very happy manner, elegance to richness and grace to majesty. The proportions are light and harmonious, and the ensemble is very striking. The anterior and posterior fronts have each eight columns ; along the side fronts are eighteen columns on either side. The fluting of these massive columns pro- duce a fine effect, owing to the fact that it is less deep in the lower part of the column than it is towards and at the top. The carving of the LIKE UNTO A GREEK TEMPLE. 277 Corinthian capitals is of a perfection that leaves nothing to be desired. The floor of the church is reached by a grand flight of stone steps divided into two parts by a landing, and these are separated from the street by a handsome iron railing. Exteriorly the building is the exact repro- duction of a Greek temple, more than one in fact, for it has two frontons, two prostyles, two emmanchements. There are no windows. The columns are Corinthian and grooved, but they are not monoliths, as they perhaps would have been in ancient Greece. Moreover the Greeks always posed an architrave of but a single stone ; whereas, the Madeleine architraves are formed of several pieces assembled. The comparison between the imitation and the real could be continued if it were necessary, but, as has been already said, it is a magnificent building. It is a Temple within double rows of columns, but when you enter the sella no colossal statue of Jupiter Olympus, seated in all his majesty on a pedestal of white marble, will be visible; for the Greek Temple of the Madeleine is to-day a place of worship for the Christian religion and not a place of Pagan idolatry. If it was not possible to make a House of God 278 PARIS. out of a heathen temple, a church could be put inside of one, and this was done. This is why the interior of the Madeleine resembles in no way whatever its exterior, either in style nor dispositioiio The large room within the walls and columns is covered, so to speak, by three domes which are invisible from the outside. These pierced openings in the ceiling are covered with glass through which some daylight sifts, but never enough of it to do away with gas or electricity. Half the church is constantly in obscurity, and yet there are many splendid paintings and statuary in the place. Moreover there are columns and arcades, frontons, cor- nices, gilding, much display of gold ; in fact, an unheard of luxury in decorative work. All this resembles nothing: neither a church nor a temple, — neither a house of prayer nor an art gallery, — neither a place where one may worship the one and Ever-living God, nor a templum to all the gods. CHAPTER XV. Good works by the First Eepublic — Establishment of different Institutions — Public education greatly improved — The Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers — Its location in an ancient Abbey — Church of Saint Martin without the walls — Building of a Monastery by Henri I — Its change to a Priory and its present condition — Free instruction to all work- men — Eleven Chairs established — Valuable col- lections at this Conservatory — Everything excel- lently arranged — The Paris Nautes of antiquity — Beginnings of the Municipality — Eighty members of the Common Council — The President and Syn- dic of the Board — Public and private sessions — Annual expenses of the Capital — State Control over appropriations — Police force and how gov- erned. Michelet in his history says that the French Revolution has for its only monument the Champ de Mars — " le vide " (vacant space) — as he puts it. The observation is hardly correct, however. It is true that the Revolution had something else to do than build houses at a time when all the kings of Europe had ranged 280 PARIS. themselves against the French, when the Ven- deans uprose at the appeal of priests and nobil- ity, when the whole country was in danger. There were cannon to be cast, pikes to be forged, powder to be made, muskets to be put together, the dead to be buried, the wounded cared for — there was no time or money with which to erect monuments. And yet, speak- ing now of Paris alone, no period in the history of the great capital has left so many useful, valuable and sensible monuments as were raised in the city by those first Republicans. The Louvre galleries of art were founded in 1793, and that same year saw the Museum of History and the Jardin des Plantes greatly increased in size and improved in every way. It was in 1793 that the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers was established, as was also the ]£cole des Mines. In 1794 the Republic gave to Paris the ]£cole Militaire on the south side of the Champs de Mars, and the more famous l^cole Polytechnique. Then in 1895, the National Archives, the Conservatoire de Musique, the ^cole Normale, the Bureau of Longitude at the Observatory, and the Institute were established. During a thousand years kings and church had not done FROM MONASTERY TO PRIORY. 281 half so niucli as all this to instruct the masses ; for every one of the institutions just mentioned as founded within five years were, and still are, places of education. And, another thing in favour of the much-abused Revolution, public instruction, from the primary school up to the Institute of France, was its work ; and no greater monument than that can be found elsewhere, or in any epoch. It was but now remarked that these institu- tions are still in existence, and it may be added that their reputation for excellence is famed throughout the world. The Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers still occupies the same buildings in which it was originally located when the church of the old Abbey of Saint Martin des Champs (twelfth century) became a room for machinery, and the magnificent refectory of thirteenth century monks was transformed into a library for working men. The story of that ancient site may be told before we speak of the Conservatory itself. North of the original Parisian city, but not very far from its walls, stood a sacred edifice erected in the sixth century and bearing the name of Church of Saint Martin. Thereabouts a faubourg sprang up, to be incorporated in 282 PARIS. course of time into the capital, but before that the Normans had destroyed the church. When the country and the city had recovered some- what from terrible invasions, the city wall was extended northward, and one of the new gates was called Porte Saint Martin. The old church, was not rebuilt at once, however, but in 1060 King Henri I founded a monastery out in that direction, and it became celebrated under the name of Saint Martin des Champs. In 1356, following the disastrous Battle of Poitiers, and because of enemies still being in the kingdom, fear was entertained for the safety of the capital, therefore the walls were again increased and strengthened. . On part of the land thus taken in stood four large wind- mills; these were still in existence in 1620, but their site is now occupied by the Theatre de la Porte Saint Martin. In the monastery which he built, Henri I placed thirteen Canons under the government of a Prior, and he gave them many gifts, which were largely increased by his son Philippe I. In 1079 Saint Martin passed from the hands of these Canons into those of the Monks of Cluny, and the Abbey became a simple Priory, although it lost none of its riches or importance on that A GREAT INSTITUTION. 283 account. Indeed it became so great a place that to be Prior of it was a position eagerly sought for, and it was nearly always occupied by some remarkable personage. Among the number was the Cardinal-Minister, Duke de Richelieu, who took the office in November, 1653, and held it to the end of his life. I must pass over the incidents and events of that famous Priory, however, to come at once to its present condition. In 1793 a Committee of Public Instruction proposed to the National Con- vention the creation of a Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers ; this proposition was adopted, and in May 1798, the old Priory of Saint Martin, which had been suppressed in 1791, was set apart for that institution. No one in going through the buildings can fail to be struck with the proportions of the chapel, the beautiful carving of the doorway, and the refectory, with its fine roof ; but it is with the Institution itself, rather than with the building in which it happens to be located, that we are at present concerned. It is commonly believed that Descartes was the first who conceived the idea of giving free instruction to workmen, who were then the persons most interested in the progress of phys- 284 PARIS. ical science, on their work. His idea was to secure a building in which the mechanical instru- ments used in various trades could be grouped together, and that a competent Professor should be appointed to each group, whose business would be to give information to the workmen who sought it as to the principles on which their daily labour was founded. This idea was not put into execution, and although it is spoken of as the first recorded idea of the kind, it is by no means apparent that it had any real connec- tion with what was subsequently done. The Academy of Sciences had formed a collection of models of machines which was lodged at the Louvre. Quite independently of it, Vaucanson began about 1775 to form a collection of machines, instruments, and tools, especially for the instruction of workmen. He was a skilled mechanician himself, and many of his ingenious contrivances were treasured as curiosities by crowned heads. When he died it was found he had bequeathed the collection which he had formed to the government. The legacy was accepted, the Hotel de Mortagne was acquired for its reception, a keeper was appointed, and a decision made that a model of all future inventions which should receive FREE INSTRUCTION FOR WORKMEN. 285 national recompense should be added to the collection. Between 1785 and 1792 there were by this decision as many as five hundred new objects added. It was these things that really led to the founding of the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers. It was described at the time as a public depot for machines, models, tools, designs, descriptions, and books of all arts and trades, whose construc- tion and use should be explained by three dem- onstrators attached to the establishment. All the collections belonging to the State were to be included ; and even while there was still hesi- tation as to the final site, many additions were made. The Committee under whose direction the habitation — its present one — was chosen put prominently forward the fact that the aim in view was the instruction of workmen, and they expressed their opinion that it would be better to do this by showing them things than by merely talking to them. Demonstrators were appointed whose business it was to give informa- tion to those seeking it, and in a short while the Conservatoire was being used for experiments to further the progress of agriculture and indus- tries. But the interest taken was short lived, and a period of decline set in about 1812. 286 PAEIS. Under the First Empire efforts were made to keep up the interest in the collections, and some splendid additions in physical apparatus and horology were made. The managing body was rearranged in 1817, when, besides appointing a sub-director, a Conseil was appointed which consisted partly of the authorities of the Con- servatoire and partly of men actually engaged in commerce, whose duty was to help the Administration with advice. Except from 1839 to 1853 this principle has been adhered to, although variations in number have occurred. But it was the change made in 1819 that gave fresh life to the Conservatoire, and gave birth to the present system. On the 25th of Novem- ber of that year it was decided that the Insti- tution should be made not only a place where apparatus and tools might be seen and demon- strated, but where courses of instruction should be given. At first three chairs were founded — Mechan- ics, Chemistry, and Industrial Economy applied to the Arts, which last seems to have meant the principles of politics applied to industrial pur- suits. At the same time the Conseil, a most important body, underwent modifications. It was divided into permanent and temporary ELEVEN CHAIES FOUNDED. 287 members : the permanent were the Director, sub-Director, and Professors, etc., of the Con- servatoire ; the temporary were twelve in number, six of them members of the Academy, the others being manufacturers and agricultu- ralists, chosen for three years, but eligible for re-election. In 1829 a fourth chair was added : Physics applied to the Arts. No further change was made until 1839, when six more chairs were created and the Conseil was made to consist of the Professors alone, one of the number being placed at the head, with the title of Professeur-Administra- teur. The office of demonstrator was abol- ished, and the best energies of the Professors were given to teaching. In 1849 another chair, that of Agricultural Chemistry and Chemical Analysis, was added, bringing the number up to eleven. Then in 1853 a Conseil de Perfectionnement, to consist of a Director, the Professors, and a number (not to exceed the number of the Professors) of members of learned societies and those engaged in commerce, was created. These members are appointed by the Min- ister of Agriculture and Commerce, the position is without a stipend, and the Conseil has the 288 PAKIS. entire control of the Conservatoire under that Ministry. When a vacancy in a professorship occurs, the Conseil selects three names and sub- mits them to the Minister, who makes the appointment; but beyond this the Conseil is left free to carry out its arrangements without any State interference. Here, then, is what the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers essentially is — a National Insti- tution which has developed into its present con- dition during an existence of more than one hundred years, supported by State aid ; its aim all throughout, whether by demonstrations or by lectures, being the instruction of those who wish to have an intelligent appreciation of the applications of scientific principles to general industry. Everything is subservient to this instruction. There are three lecture amphi- theatres. The largest will hold seven hundred, the second three hundred, and the smallest two hundred persons. At the back of the largest is a general laboratory, where the apparatus required for the lectures is prepared ; and in cases where preparation at the last minute is needed it is handed in through an opening just when it is wanted. All apparatus is furnished by the Conservatoire and is the exclusive property of A VALUABLE COLLECTION. 289 the Institution. "With the exception of a few reserved tickets for each Professor and which are distributed among special friends, all these lectures are free to everybody, without any re- striction as to age, sex, or social position, and whether native or foreign born. There are no lectures on Sundays, but on other days there are four or five of them each evening, and so far as possible each lecture is made complete in itself. As regards the collections at the Conserva- toire, in addition to being used as lecture illus- trations, they are open at certain times of the" week, sometimes free, sometimes at the charge of one franc, for public inspection. There are, however, no arrangements for lighting the gal- leries, hence they are never open in the evening. There are altogether about fifteen thousand objects, some of which are relics of the time of Vaucanson. Additions are being constantly made to the collection, but nothing is asked for unless it can be utilised for teaching The munificence of private individuals and commer- cial firms supplies many objects free of cost, but no offer is accepted unless one of the Professors really wants it for teaching purposes. Those who have carefully gone through the galleries are invariably struck by the excellence 290 PARIS, of the arrangements, and the clearness with which everything is displayed. A staff of sixty does the whole of the work, and the annual cost to the State is about sixty thousand dollars. Although in the midst of " Terror," and of civil and foreign wars, although threatened by its internal as well as by its external enemies, the Revolution also gave to Paris the election of its own Municipality. Among the historical monuments to-day in the Palais de Thermes is one which workmen, labouring in a vault in a choir of Notre Dame, had the good luck to dig up in 1710. On one of these stones is this in- scription, in Latin : " During the reign of Tiberius the Nautes Parisiens erected this altar, at the expense of the Corporation, to the very good and the very great Jupiter. " That Nautes, powerful enough thirty years after the birth of Jesus Christ to raise a temple dedicated to Jupiter at the Western extremity of the little island, was the germ of the first Municipality of Paris. I have already told of the creation of the Parlouer aux Bourgeois and of the rise of the Prevot des Marchands ; I have now to mention the existence of a City Council composed of twenty*four preudoumes or prud'hommes who THE MUNICIPALITY UNDER LOUIS XIV. 291 were paid for their services. After the shame- ful rout of Poitiers and the terrible defeat of King John, Prevot Etienne Marcel not only installed himself and echevins in the Maison aux Piliers on the Place de Greve, but he obliged the inhabitants to man the walls, and to police the eight quartiers into which Paris was then divided. Charles V left no real authority with any one but the Prevot, and, after the revolt of the Maillotins, he abolished that office during twenty-nine years. It had hardly been re- established when the English occupied Paris. After the Fronde, and the active, energetic part taken by the Parisian Municipality, the man who exclaimed " L' Etat c'est moi ! " was not for leaving the capital, its organisation, and its franchises to any other authority than his own. It is true Louis XIV allowed the city an ap- pearance of electing the prevots, the echevins and the quarteniers, but the procureurs-syndics and other officers were compelled to buy their places. Moreover, that King divided the ad- ministration of Paris up into Parliament, Bureau of Finances, Board of Public Works, Lieutenant-General of Police, and the City Bureau. 292 PARIS. Finally, the degraded institution of the echSvinage disappeared the day that the Bas- tille was taken ; and when Bailly was pro- claimed Mayor by the assembly of electors, they cried aloud, repeating it a hundred times: " Plus de Prevot de marchands ! un Maire de Paris ! Oui, oui, un Maire de Paris ! " The law of May, 1790, created an administra- tion composed of a Mayor, sixteen aids, thirty Councillors, ninety-six Notables, a Procureur- General of the Commune, and two substitutes. All the members of this Municipality were named by active citizens of Paris, from forty- eight districts, and their organisation lasted until August 10, 1790. That day the " Com- missaires des Sections" to the number of 186, went to the Hotel de Ville and suspended the Municipality. The legislative Assembly ordered that the forty-eight districts should each name a member to take charge of things, and thus was born the Paris Commune. In turn this arrangement was done away with after the ninth Thermidor, when Paris was man- aged by National Commissions appointed by the Convention. The Directoire replaced these with a bureau of seven administrators, but they had soon to THE ALDERMANIC BOARD. 293 give way for two Prefets, one for the Depart- ment of the Seine, the other for the Police ; and with the coming in of these two functionaries disappeared the last vestiges of the municipal regime. The arrangement continued through the Empire and the Restoration, until the Rev- olution of 1830 in fact ; but after that, a Muni- cipal Council of thirty-six members was elected. During the S-econd Empire all the members of the Municipal Commission were appointed by the State; but while the Commune was in power a Mayor and two aids administered the city affairs, and there was no . thought of a Conseil Municipal. The Commune crushed, a Municipal law was voted by the National Assembly at Versailles, and it is that law which governs the city to-day. The Conseil Municipale of Paris is composed of eighty members, elected in as many quar- tiers. The capital is divided into twenty ar- rondissements or wards, and each of these is subdivided into four quartiers or sections, bearing not numbers, but names. Thus, in the eighth arrondissement, and known generally as that of the ^lysees, the names of these four quartiers are : Champs iDlysees, Faubourg du Roule, Madeleine, and Europe; thus, in 294 PARIS. the ninth arrondissement, that of the Opera, the qnartiers are : Saint Greorges, Chaussee d'Antin, Montmartre and Rochechouart. It is not necessary to mention more names to make the thing understood, and we will proceed with the plan of organisation. Unlike in the prov- inces — there are some thirty-six thousand com- munes in the French Republic, and each of these has its Mayor and Board of Aldermen — where the Councillors are elected for a term of four years, the Municipal Councillors of Paris are chosen for only three years, one from each quartier, and.no matter how many inhabitants there may be in the sub-sections. By reason of their election these men have also the right to sit as members of the Conseil- General of the Department of the Seine, which is equivalent to making Aldermen co-workers with County Commissioners, where there are such officials. When the ediles are chosen they meet at the H6tel de Ville, and without being obliged to pass upon the validity of their own election, they proceed to elect their officers and commissions, that is to say, Committees. The law prescribes that the " Bureau," or board of officers, shall be a President, two Vice-Presi- dents and four Secretaries. Precedent has PRESIDENT AND SYNDIC. 295 added a Syndic, and the President and Syndic are the two principal persons of the Common Council, but the former office is of the most im- portance. In fact, the function of President of the Paris Conseil Municipale is a very enviable posi- tion. It furnishes the titulary with a splen- did office in the Hotel de Ville — the most magnificent city hall in the world ; he receives much more compensation, or salary, than his colleagues, being paid four thousand dollars an- nually; and the city gratuitously puts at his disposal a carriage and pair, with coachman, while he holds the office. Moreover, he is furnished with a private secretary to aid him in his work; and his door is guarded by " huis- siers," or ushers in livery, with emblematic chains around their necks, who precede him when he marches from his office to the Council Chamber. The Syndic regulates all the expenditures of the Council, which include a monthly allowance of one hundred dollars accorded to each Alderman to cover the expenses incurred by him in the performance of his official duties. The Syndic also has an office furnished him ; but it is not so fine as that of the President of 296 PAEIS. the Council, and lie lias a clerk instead of a secretary. He organises all fetes, banquets, or receptions given by the Municipality, and he is the much sought after dispensator of in- vitations to the two balls given annually in the magnificent salons of the City Hall. The Syn- dic is a busy, hard-working official, but he is not paid any more than his colleagues, although he is furnished with a carriage and one horse, with driver. For all important discussions in the Council Chamber the President arranges the list of those who will be permitted to "take the floor " ; and as, like many other parliamentary bodies, the Paris Board of Aldermen is not over-patient, there is a scramble to have one's name at the top, or near the top, of the list. It is customary to keep the President in office for one year, and he is eligible to re-election. Ordinarily, three public sessions are held every week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, from three to seven o'clock, but there is not much room reserved for spectators. A member of the Municipal Council addresses the house, not from his seat, as in Vienna, Berlin, London, etc., but from a "tribune," precisely as is done in the Chamber of Deputies. SIX STANDING COMMITTEES. 297 All speeches, be they long or short, all motions, etc., are printed in the Bulletin Municipal Officiel. In addition to these public sessions, the num- ber of which is regulated by law, and may not exceed one hundred and forty annually, there are also special sessions when the Councillors sit in Committee of the Whole, and to which outsiders are not admitted. Now the members speak from their seats, and now the State is not represented, as it is at the regular sessions, either by the Prefet de la Seine or the PrefSt de la Police, sometimes by both. This is because Paris is the capital of the Repub- lic, and the State has a certain control over some of the deliberations and acts of the Council. Without counting this Committee of the Whole, the Municipal Council of Paris is di- vided, by election, into six large Standing Committees — not to mention several small sub- commissions — each composed of sixteen mem- bers. The six are as follows : (1) Finances, Concessions, and Monopolies, Disputable Ques- tions; (2) General Administration, Mairies (there is a Mayor for each arrondissement), Markets, Police ; (2) Public Ways, Prome- 298 PARIS, nades, Lighting; (4) Education, Fine Arts; (5) Public Assistance, Pawnbroking ; (6) Water, Sewers, Sanitary, etc. The reports of Commit- tees are all printed, and some of these are very valuable documents. Paris is a city which has an area of only twenty thousand acres ; still, it has about 2,600,000 inhabitants. If the area covered by the River Seine, the streets, squares, gardens, parks, ceme- teries and other unbuilt-on surface be de- ducted, it will be found that these people live on not more than 13,500 acres. This shows that Paris is the most densely populated city on the Continent ; it contains over one hundred persons to the acre, while Berlin has only ninety, and Vienna but fifty-five. There are hardly more than 88,500 houses in Paris, but, as most of these are what we call " flats," they contain more than a million lodgings or apart- ments. The yearly rental derived from them is $175,000,000. The standing debt of the city is quite $400,- 000,000, and the largest item of the annual appropriations which the Aldermen have to raise annually is the interest on this city debt — a matter of something like $22,000,000. The other largest expenses are : Public Instruction, SOUKCES OF REVENUE. 299 $8,000,000 ; streets (paving, repairing, cleaning, etc.), $5,500,000; police, $5,400,000; public assistance, $5,400,000 ; sewers, $2,400,000 ; fire- men, $1,600,000, apprentice schools, $1,400,- 000; public libraries, $1,000,000; lighting, $1,500,000, etc. It takes about $65,000,000 annually to meet all the city's requirements. The most important item in the ordinary re- ceipts comes from the octroi. This is a tariff or duty charged on articles which enter Paris ; that is to say, on all portable liquids, food, fuel, forage, and building materials. This source yields about $32,000,000 on an average. The other principal sources of revenue are the tax on dogs, on bicycles, horses, carriages, etc., $6,650,000; market houses and public market- places, $2,000,000; slaughter houses, $700,000 ; wine warehouses, $700,000; cemeteries, $500- 000 ; public carriages, $1,200,000 ; divers con- tributions for using the streets, architecture, paving, lighting private grounds, etc., $1,000,- 000 ; State assistance in keeping up and clean- ing pavements, $800,000; tax for sweeping sidewalks, $600,000 ; State contribution toward support of police, $1,800,000; from the Gas Company, $3,800,000; water tax, $2,600,000, etc. 300 PARIS. Every year the Paris Municipal Council votes an estimate of the receipts, and makes appropriations to meet the probable expenses of the following year, and this is called the Budget. But, like some other acts of the Council, this budget must be approved by the Government before it can go into efFect. Usually in November or December the Council votes what is called the primitive budget, and in May, when the accounts for the preceding year are closed, the supplemental budget is voted, and this introduces whatever changes may be found necessary in the other one. In 1900 the Budget of France was nearly $700,000,000, and that of the capital was nearly $65,000,000. On the basis of five per cent, which is believed to be the average yield of real estate investments in Paris, the built up represents a total value of about $3,400,000,000. This does not include public buildings, churches, monuments and other structures which have no rental value. From the very fact that it is the capital of France, Paris has to submit to certain priva- tions on privileges that are enjoyed by other Municipal Organisations. But if the Govern- ment does intervene in certain of the city's STATE CONTKOL OF EXPENSES. 301 affairs — that is, lias something to say about the expense of paving the streets, maintaining the Police, the Municipal guards, etc.,— it also pays a part of the expenses thereof, besides doing all in its power to embellish Paris with handsome monuments. For several years past there has been a constant struggle on the part of the Paris Municipal Council to free themselves from this guardianship of the State, as ex- pressed by the Prefect of the Seine, but the Government remembers the old saying, " To be Master of Paris is to be Master over France," and so maintains the State control over the annual appropriations. Some historians give to Louis IX the honour of founding an institution of which the last of his race made such bad use ; but it is probable that the first police force was organised by Hugues Caput. However, there is no straight account anywhere as regards the police, or guet, of those earlier centuries, and it is not until the reign of Louis XIV that we really learn some- thing definite on that subject. La Reynie was the first Lieutenant of Police ; he took hold the 29th of March, 1667, and one of his earliest rules was to establish the use of lanterns. Before then obscurity was an aid to 302 PARIS. all crimes ; so it came about that every owner of a house was ordered to hang, after nine o'clock at night, and from a window of the second floor, a lantern with a lighted candle in it, and every person who was in the street after that hour was also obliged to carry a lighted lantern. The second Lieutenant of Police, of whom there is any record, was the Marquis d' Argeu- son. He was appointed in January, 1697, and remained in office until June, 1718 ; but he was re-appointed to the place in April, 1782. In the mean time the indecent morals and corrup- tions of the Regency, the debaucheries of noblemen, the libertineage of abbots, the prostitution of ladies, the scandals of stock job- bing, the encouragement of rapacity, cheating and intrigues, the thefts, murders and assassin- ations had become less frequent, still the police continued to authorise the opening of tripots, or gambling houses, under the surveillance of detectives, however, and these espions were chosen from public women, cab-drivers, and a few of the better class of individuals who had lost all their money and were deep in debt. The reign of Louis XV began with religious excess and finished in an excess of debauchery ; LIEUTENANT OP POLICE, 303 the police force of Paris aiding the King ma- terially at both extremities. The fourteenth and last Lieutenant of Police was Thiroux de Crosue, who took charge when Louis XVI had been sovereign for eleven years. Under that Bourbon, and until the taking of the Bastille, the Paris police were about the same as they had been under his predecessor, which is equivalent to saying they were of little use as a preventive to crime. The Revolution suppressed the office of Lieutenant of Police, and the force was put un- der the management of a permanent committee. Several changes occurred within a few years, until finally in February, 1800, (law of 28 plu- viose an 8,) a Prefet of Police was created. This is the title or designation of the official at the head of the Paris police force, but it was not retained always during those four distinct periods of history known as Republican, Consu- lar, Imperial, and foreign Revolution, called Restoration. The conduct of the police during these fifteen years of u restaur ation" is so cov- ered with infamy that it will never be forgot- ten. It co-operated in the secret mission given to Maulereuil for the assassination of Napo- leon, his son and his brothers; it compelled the 304 PAKIS. celebration of Sunday, and it kept hired spies in every household. Then after the One Hun- dred Days, it took up again its work of anger and vengeance. It is not to be wondered at that Parisians should finally have swept all the rascals out, have sent the last of the Bourbons into exile, or have crowned all edifices with the three- coloured flag of victory and of justice. It can hardly be said, however, that the police force of Louis Philippe was any better than its prede- cessors in many ways, while as for that of the Second Empire it was no more or less than a part of the system of espionage which Napo- leon III had hastened to establish all over France. In the Third Republic the police force of Paris was again taken in hand, this time by the Municipal Council, although the State had its share of authority in the premises. If a good police force is necessary anywhere, it is necessary in a city which contains the Govern- ment of the State, the representatives of for- eign powers, visitors from all parts of the world, and a population close on to three million souls! Paris is just such a capital, and there is good reason why a Government that has to APPOINTMENT OF PKEFET. 305 watch over so many diverse elements should have the police force in its own hands. Nominally, the subordinate of the Minister of the Interior, the Pref6t of Police is appointed by that Minister ; but his officers are organised by himself and on his own responsibility to the Minister ; he makes such police ordinances as he deems best, without being under any legal necessity of referring the matter to the Municipal council; he is not even required to go before the Council, and he does so only when he feels like it, or under instruction from the Minister. He has nothing to ask from it but an appropriation, and although the city's portion amounts to $5,400,000, he can, under certain conditions, and in case of refusal on the part of the Council get even that. As for the remainder of the sum necessary to run the branches of the Paris police, it is furnished by the State, and is included in the annual budget. The Prefet of Police receives a large salary, house rent free, two carriages with horses and coachman, furniture, office expenses, a secret fund, a box in all the theatres and at the Grand Opera, and free passes on all railways. After the Prefet, there are three other im- portant personages — the Chief Clerk, the Chief 306 PARIS. of Police and the Auditor ; there are also three distinct organisations — the bureaux, the com- missaires of police, and the active force. The Commissaires of Police are magistrates named by the President of the Republic at the request of the Minister of the Interior, and placed un- der the orders of the Prefet; their attribu- tions are administrative as well as judiciary. All the police who are in uniform are known as " gardiens de la paix" and all the police not in uniform are " inspecteursy They enter the force on the same conditions ; they are subject to the same rules of advancement and retire- ment ; the only real difference in their positions is in the perquisites which the inspecteurs manage to pick up. The Chief of Police has also under his orders a " chef de la surete " or Chief of Detectives ; also the following brigades, as they are called : (1) " Brigades des garnis" that is to say, police having charge of the hotels and lodging houses; they have to see to it that all the registers of lodgers in the capital are exact, and to report the movements of all tenants and travellers. A traveller arrives; his name is demanded by the one in charge of the hotel or lodgings, and the name he gives, his residence, THE DIFFERENT BRIGADES. 307 profession, etc., are written and furnished to these police ; it is a brigade of spies which oc- cupy themselves more with politics and scan- dals than they do with the public security. (2) " Brigades des recherches" of which * there are four. The duties of these police are to make inquiries about all strangers ; the sup- pression of unlawful gambling; to keep watch of all clubs ; to look after commercial and finan- cial societies, balls, and concerts ; to make in- quiries in the interests of families, or of the police administration ; to furnish interpreters ; to look after the vegetable pedlars in the streets ; to investigate the cases of individuals arrested flagrante delicto, under certain cir- cumstances; — in brief, to "have a protecting oversight over all things." Under this elastic term, the Prefet manages to make a good deal of use of the " brigades de recherches" in the way of political police. (3) "Brigades centrales." Four of these brigades make each day the service of the Pre- fecture of Police at the theatres, at balls and concerts, and in the Bois de Boulogne; they also have to do with the horse races, military reviews, and publics fetes or ceremonies. The fifth central brigade has charge of all vehicles ; 3C8 PARIS. the sixth, or " brigades de holies" looks after the free circulation in the neighbourhood of the large markets known as the Halles Centrales. (4.) " Brigades d' } Arrondissernents." There are twenty of these brigades, each with a cap- tain at its head who commands, under the orders of the Chief of Police, three or four briga- diers or lieutenants, twenty-four sous-briga- diers, or sergeants, and a number of " gardiens de la paix" which varies according to the im- portance and size of the arrondissement or ward. The effective of each arrondissement is divided into three brigades, commanded each by one lieutenant and two sergeants, and each brigade is subdivided into four "sous brigades " ; that is to say, one for each quarter of the city. These police have charge of all other market houses than those already mentioned, all cab stands, slaughtering houses, and the protection of the capital generally. There are 540 cab- stands, 44 markets, and 1280 " beats," or Hots, as they are called in Paris. (5.) " Controle General" This service has charge of all ordinances concerning the publi- cations of books and newspapers, of pedlars of literature, and bill posting. The policing of the river, the department of weights and meas- THE FIRE DEPARTMENT. 309 Tires, the city laboratory, the sanitary condi- tion of the city, and all public dispensations are under the charge of this general control. (6.) The " sapeurs pompiers" or fire de- partment. This corps consists, in round num- bers, of two thousand men; it is a regiment under the control of the Minister of War in all matters that relate to the recruiting, discipline and promotion of its members, for it is a part of the French army; but so far as relates to their services at fires, they are under the exclu- sive orders and management of the Prefect of Police. CHAPTER XVI. The Capital dotted with military barracks — An Empire represented by four monuments — The Place du Carrousel — A courtyard filled with ghastly sou- venirs — Its paving stones stained with human blood — Scene of ancient tournaments — The grand fete given by Louis XIV its only carousal — Legend of the "Little Man in Bed" — The many troubles which followed his appearance — Santerre and his rough rabble — Massacre of the Swiss Guard — Josephine as an hostess — A famous dance hall — White flag of the Bourbons — The Grand Arc de Triomphe — An imposing colossal edifice — Anec- dote of a Prussian colonel and the children of Paris — The funeral obsequies of Victor Hugo. The First Kepublic having disappeared in the smoke of battle or despotic tumult, Napo- leon the victorious came in and made an Em- pire of France, and very soon the capital was dotted with barracks for armed men. It is true that some works of public utility were undertaken, but the sound of cannon was more often heard than the sound of spade or hammer. PLACE Dtl CARROUSEL. 311 The First Empire is represented in Paris by four monuments only : one temple, two trium- phal arches, and a column copied after that of Trajan. Of the Temple de la Victoire, better known as the Church of the Madeleine, and of the Column Vendome, I have already written. The arch in the Place du Carrousel, with its marble columns and its bronze capitals, is an exact reproduction of the arch of Septimus Sev- erus at Rome; but the bas-reliefs and the antique statue of the model were replaced by modern subjects, to the glory of Napoleon. This Place du Carrousel is about as well known as any open square in Paris. Everybody has been in it, not particularly to visit it, for aside from the Gambetta monument, and a pretty little patch of shrubbery with a few flowers, surrounded by an iron fence, there is nothing whatever in the place worth mentioning. The buildings of the Louvre, of the Pavilion de Flore along the Seine, and of the Pavilion de Marsan along the Rue de Rivoli, where the Minister of Finance is to be found, present a good effect. Here and there are statues in niches of great men who once lived in France. Over some of the doors are emblems of royalty, while by the grand arcades through which all 312 PAEIS. sorts of vehicles are rushing into the Place de la Comedie Frangaise, one sees the Napoleonic " N's " that have been left untouched by a peo- ple who do not seem to worry any now about things reminding them of empire or monarchy. At night electric lamps perched high up on slender poles cast powerful lights and dark shadows on a square courtyard filled with ghostly souvenirs of a past which was only too often terribly important. The Place du Car- rousel is a large open space lying between the buildings of the old Louvre and the ground where the Palace of the Tuileries once stood. It is a square through which a dozen genera- tions of kings — the old Monarchy, the First and Second Republics, two Empires, the Restora- tion, the July Monarchy — Bourbons, Orleanists, Revolutionists and Bonapartists, have in turn looked from palace windows and seen their power swept away by howling mobs. Many a time and oft, between the reign of Louis XII and that of Napoleon III, have its paving stones been stained with human blood ; and if they could only speak, they might bear witness to many stirring events in French history. The name " Carrousel " comes from the Ital- ian word caroselle — " a little chariot." Origi- .fetes and tournaments. 313 tially the square was a stretcli of open ground lying outside of the city walls, with a lane running through it from the farm of the Ma- thurins to the river. Tournaments were very common in Franco until after Montgomery killed Henry II, which accident led to their being done away with in favour of chariot races and equestrian exercises made up of allegorical representations of some famous event in the history of the Prince in whose honour they were given. These displays w^ere called " car- r ousels" and the first one ever given came off in the courtyard of the Louvre, while Henry IV was King. The same monarch gave another on the Notre Dame bridge, while his successor, Louis XIII, gave at the time of his marriage a carousal which nearly bankrupted him and the entire Court. "When Louis XIV ascended the throne, all that part of the present Place du Carrousel which was not covered by a sort of u shanty town," lay along the outskirts of the city. Until the beginning of the seventeenth century it had been a marshy strip of ground belonging to nobody in particular, where the street scav- engers emptied their garbage carts and where Courtiers went to fight duels. In the year 314 PARIS, 1620 it was enclosed with a wall and laid out as a garden for the use of Mademoiselle de Montpensier, who occupied one wing of the Chateau des Tuileries. That wall was pulled down during the reign of Louis XIV, the gar- den became a public square, and a few years later the King gave here certain carousal fetes, which lasted three days, and cost him one mil- lion, two hundred thousand livres. A frame structure was built around the square for the accommodation of spectators who gathered to witness the races, ballets, processions, and tilt- ing matches. Three queens — the wife of Louis XIV, his mother, and the Queen of Eng- land — were present. On the last day there was a mounted ballet composed of five quad- rilles, each representing a different nation. Louis XIV led the Romans ; his brother was at the head of the Persians ; the Prince de Conde led the Turks ; his son, the Due d'En- ghien, the Hindoos, while the Due de Guise led the American Indians. This Duke of Guise, grandson of the one who helped Marie de Medicis to plan and carry out the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, tried to make himself master of Naples. His long imprisonment, his many duels, his numerous love intrigues, his SPECTRE OP THE PALACES. 315 lavishness, profligacy and wild exploits of all kinds, caused people, when they saw him tak- ing part with Conde in the carousal, to ex- claim, " There is the hero of History tilting with the hero of Fable.*" Such was the first and only " carousal " ever given in the place, and yet the name has always stuck to it. There exists a tradition that the Louvre, this great square, and the Tuileries palace, when it existed, were haunted by a spectre called the Petit Homme Rouge. The appear- ance of this spectre was always followed by a Na- tional misfortune, civil commotion, Revolution, public disaster, or death of the head of State. When Catherine de Medicis built the Tuileries she took forcible possession of other peoj^le's property, including a butcher's shop, the owner of which was known among the neighbours as the " Little Man in Red," because of his bloody business. This butcher became the accidental witness of some of the amorous exploits which took place in the new Chateau, and to insure his silence the Queen's mother had him de- coyed into a subterranean passageway which connected the Tuileries with the Louvre, where he was murdered. Thereupon the spirit of the poor fellow took up its abode in the 316 PAKIS. garret of the Tuileries, and ever since then lie had been a herald of death or misfortune to its occupants. In the latter days of the reign of the " Grand Monarque," the Petit Homme Rouge showed himself to Louis XIV. Followed ruinous and disastrous war, the death of the Duke de Bour- goyne and his wife within six days of each other, then the King's own death, leaving the crown to an infant, and the people to the mercy of a profligate regent during a long minority. . Louis XV was called by his people " Le Bien Aim.ee/ ' when he first mounted the throne ; but they came to hate him more than they had ever hated any of his predecessors before they were done with him. His reign was a long one, but one day, he met the " Little Man in Red," and soon afterward he caught the smallpox and was ere long carried to Saint Denis. It may have been that Louis XVI, who had to pay with his head for all the tyrannical do- ings of his ancestors, also saw the butcher's ghost the first night after he slept in the Tuil- eries, when the mob had forced the Royal fam- ily to move into Paris from Versailles, but the legend does not tell us so. BKUTALITY OP SANTEKRE. 317 On the 20th of June, 1792, the sans calottes gathered in the Place du Carrousel and forced their way into the palace of the Tuileries. For six long hours the Royal family were forced to witness a defile of the vilest scum through their rich apartments. The King and the Queen were seated at the council table ; while the Princess Elizabeth sat beside her sister-in-law, who held the young Dauphin in her arms and from time to time stood him on the table for the people to look at. One fellow, as he passed, took off his red cap and placed it on the head of the infant Prince, who began to laugh and amuse himself by peeping out from under it at the crowd; whereupon Santerre, noticing that this baby incident was putting the rabble into a good humour, brutally shouted : " Take off that cap ! Don't you see it is stifling the child? " Among the spectators of the extraordinary scene was a young lieutenant of artillery, who, as he walked away when all was over, quietly remarked, u "With three cannon planted at the palace door I could sweep the Place du Carrousel of all this canaille in five minutes." That officer, Bonaparte by name, was destined to be the immediate successor of Louis XVI in the Tuileries, and only three years later he had 318 PAKIS. opportunity to show the effect of skilfully handled guns on a mob, when, from the steps of the church of Saint Roch, he cleared the same place and put an end to the Reign of Terror. The event of the 20th of June was but a rehearsal for the tragedy of the 10th of August, when a Paris mob again attacked the palace. The gallant defence of the Swiss Guard, their massacre, and the flight of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette to seek safety at the bar of the convention, is an oft-told tale. A few days later a newly invented instrument, called the guillotine, was set up in the centre of the square, just about the spot where the small triumphal arch erected by Napoleon now stands, and began its work of cutting off the heads of those who displeased the Revolutionary leaders. All the executions of the earlier days of the Revolution took place there, but towards the end of 1792 the dread instrument was trans- ferred to the Place de la Revolution. Next the fanatics of the epoch built a strange monument in the Place du Carrousel. It was a little building, containing a plaster bust of the infamous Marat, also the washtub in which he was bathing when Charlotte Corday stabbed JOSEPHINE AS A HOSTESS. 319 him; his lamp, inkstand, pen, samples of his handwriting, and other souvenirs. Daily a soldier was stationed to guard the monument, but one morning the sentinel was found dead. Whether he was killed by the cold, or was frightened to death by the apparition of the Petit Homme Rouge, no one ever knew. The strange monument was pulled down in 1 796, when Bonaparte removed from the Luxembourg to the Tuileries. The Carrousel being densely packed with spectators, General Bonaparte drove into the square in an open carriage drawn by six white horses and surrounded by a brilliant staff. This was the first time that he publicly wore the little cocked hat which afterwards became so famous as his invariable head covering. In the Carrousel he left the carriage and mounted a horse, in order to pass in review the regiments which had been ordered out to do him military honours. A grand dinner inaugurated his taking possession of the Bourbon mansion, and it was followed by a diplomatic reception, at which Josephine played hostess in a way that showed her guests that she was well-bred. Bonaparte made many changes, but even then the Place du Carrousel was nothing like 320 PARIS. as large as it now is. There were several streets included within its limits; in one of these, the Rue de Chartres, was a ballroom called the Vauxhall d'Hiver, which seems to have been a rather lively place. Carriages could drive inside of it, and the ballroom was simply enormous. There were boxes all around like at an Opera house, while the upper gallery was used as a promenade. Here all the petits maitresses and grisettes of the day used to assemble to dance, to flirt and to arrange rendezvous. This eighteenth century " Mabille " was turned into a theatre in 1792, which was christened the Vaudeville, and thus became the ancestor of the theatre of that name that now stands on the corner of the Boulevard and the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin. After he became Emperor, Napoleon I was the hero of many splendid pageants which passed through the Place du Carrousel, such as the coronation, the divorce from Josephine, the marriage to Marie Louise, the birth of the King of Rome. Then one morning the tricolour flag was hauled down from the Pavilion de THorlorge and the white flag of the Bourbons was hoisted in its place, A few days later Louis XVIII COSSACKS m THE CARROUSEL. 321 entered the Tuileries and as lie climbed the stairs lie remarked that there was nothing changed in France, only there was one more Frenchman. A regiment of Cossacks bivouacked in the Place du Carrousel, sent there to protect from an angry populace certain workmen who were removing from the triumphal arch the horses of Saint Mark which Napoleon had brought from Venice. The famous bronze group was re- stored to the City of the Doges, and a statue of glory — the Glory of the Restoration — took its place. Conspiracies, riots, and disorders followed in succession ; but the king finished his reign as no other French sovereign had done since Louis XV, for he died in his own bed. With the exception of his funeral, also the rejoicings over the birth of Count de Cham- bord, and the pageant of the Coronation of Charles X, the quiet of the Palace du Carrousel was rarely disturbed during succeeding years. The short revolution of 1830 made the place lively once more, but that " carrousel " ended with the enthroning of Louis Philippe, and soon he was visited by the spectre of Le Petit Homme Rouge. Talleyrand died ; the Duke of Orleans, heir to the crown, was thrown out of his carriage and killed. 322 PAKIS. In 1848 another tidal wave swept through the Place du Carrousel, and Louis Philippe fled to England for safety. He never returned to France, but hardly was he out of the country when a man whom he had kept in exile re- turned to his native land and began to fish in the troubled waters of French politics. Louis Napoleon soon had the Imperial crown on his head, and he bore it for nearly twenty years. He embellished the Carrousel by giving it its present appearance and by restoring the Triumphal Arch as it now stands. But in the midst of the " Glory " that was shed over France by this the last of the Bona- partes, the red spectre made another appearance : followed the disastrous war with Germany, the surrender of the Emperor, the flight of the Empress, the horrors of a siege, the terrors of a commune. But that last appearance of the Petit Homme Rouge was also followed by the establishment of the Third Republic, which grows stronger and better as it grows older, and which has brought peace and prosperity to the French Nation. If, however, the Arch in the Carrousel is out of place, not so with the Arc de 1'Etoile, as the great Triumphal Arch of Paris is rightly called. THE GREAT TRIUMPHAL ARCH. 323 The gigantic mass, its dominant position at the top of the beautiful avenue of the Champs Elysees, gives to the Arc de Triomphe that grand importance which such a monument should possess. It was Napoleon I who selected the site, and the first stone was put in place the fifteenth of August, 1806. The architect selected for this gigantic work was Monsieur Chalgrin, but he died in 1811, long before his task was finished. A pupil of his by the name of Goust succeeded, and he scrupulously tried to follow out the plans of his regretted master. In 1814 work on the arch was interrupted, and was not renewed until 1823, when it was taken up by an architect named Huyot. In 1833 still another architect took hold, and he con- structed the attic ; but it was not until 1836 that the arch was finally inaugurated. It had served a purpose some time before that, however; for when Marie Louise made her entrance into Paris, Napoleon was for hav- ing her pass under the Arc de Triomphe, and the only question was how to do it. In a few hours, with painted canvas and the aid of carpenters, a construction was arranged to show what the monument would be like, and the young Em- press passed through this imitation structure. 324 PAKIS. The early work on the arch was very diffi- cult, as the soil offered no security for its foun- dations. It was necessary to dig to a depth of twenty-five feet, and to form an artificial base of heavy cut stones which would support without danger the enormous weight of the structure. The total cost of the edifice was $1,810,000, and for so much money perhaps a perfect work might have been erected, which, however, was not the case. Still, if it is not exactly a masterpiece of architecture, if it lacks unity and style, the Arc de Triomphe certainly makes up in grandeur, even as it is far superior in dimensions to the greatest arches of antiquity. It rises to a total height of over one hundred and sixty feet, with a width of one hundred and forty- eight feet, the height of its principal arch being ninety-three feet above the pavement. It is an imposing, colossal edifice, one that can be seen from afar off, looming up above the capital. The sculptures with which it is adorned play only the simple role of ornament to a grand pile. They might all be cut away without hurting its architecture in the least, and seen from a distance, say a quarter of a mile or so, the effect would be the same without as with them. IT STILL AWAITS ITS CROWN, 325 This ornamentation consists of four groups, two on each fagade, in allegorical figures resting in four tympans of the grand arch and in the four tympans of the lateral arches, in bas-re- lief, and in the frieze of high-relief which makes the circuit of the edifice above. Strange to say, this magnificent triumphal arch has not yet been completely finished, so far as the architect's plans are concerned. It was intended that the platform at the top, and from whence a splendid view of the capital and its suburbs can be obtained, was to have been crowned with something or other, and no end of projects were submitted. One of the earlier architects proposed isolated figures, represent- ing the leading cities of France ; the sugges- tion was refused, but it was made use of later when the Place de la Concorde was being beautified. A sculptor named Seurre was for having victorious France borne on a chariot drawn by six horses. This project was carried out in a painting which decorated the Arch dur- ing the f ties of July, 1838. In 1840, when Napoleon's remains were brought from the River Seine at Coubervoire to the Invalided, another picture was placed on top of the monument, which represented the 326 PARIS. Emperor standing on a trophy of arms and sur- rounded by the attributes of Victory. Sculptor Rude also liad his idea ; he wanted a colossal figure of France standing on a sphere, holding in one hand the torch of Civilisation, the other hand resting on a lion that was intended to figure as Popular Force. This and other pro- jects were all abandoned ; but in more recent years we had the quadriga of Falguiere, a mediocre imitation of the triumphal car of an- tiquity. It remained on high only a short while, however, and everybody in Paris was glad when it was finally taken down again. The grand edifice still awaits its crown. From the base of this Triumphal Arch radi- ate no fewer than thirteen broad and splendid avenues, the Avenue of the Champs ^lysees, the Avenue de la Grande Armee, the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, the Avenue Kleber, etc., being of the number. Moreover, a wide space of land surrounds the arch, a well-paved place over which omnibuses, street cars, carriages of every kind, and an ever countless multitude seem to be forever hurrying. It is a busy spot, a striking place, a " circular " square; a beauti- ful opening in the brilliant city where people from every country under the sun may be seen, THE PKUSSIAN OCCUPATION". 327 and particularly so, in the months of May and June, when Paris puts on her most charming toilet, and becomes, indeed, the capital of the world. This Arch, and this open place, was the scene of a great public demonstration on the twentieth of April, 1848, when the Second Republic distributed flags to the National Guards and to the Army. It was a patriotic and moving ceremony ; but quite different was the demonstration made by the children living in that part of Paris, when the Prussians entered in 1870. The enemy marched through Neuilly, entered the city at the iron gates close to where the Duke of Orleans was accidentally killed, and ascended the Avenue of the Grand Army. It was the German general's intention to march his force under the Arc de Triomphe ; but at the head of the small advance column, rode a Colonel whose heart was too gentle and too susceptible to youthful clamour for this wish to be realised. Before the fagade, which looks towards the Gates of Neuilly two thou- sand children had massed themselves in one solid group, and the boldest present advanced a few yards to tell this Colonel that his sol- diers would have to ride over infants before 328 PARIS. they could pass through the Arch. Whether the gallant officer had little ones of his own at home, whom he thought of just then, or whether he was moved by this powerful display of youthful patriotism — whatever it may have been that impelled him to do so, he turned his horse's head around the arch, and the rest of the army followed him. In 1885 we had another never-to-be-forgotten solemnity in the Place de l'^toile and about this colossal arch. The committee charged with the obsequies of Victor Hugo selected the Arc de Triomphe as centre of that ceremony, and the coffin of the illustrious poet was exposed there during several days and nights. A sarcophagus sixty feet high was placed under the main arch, on this rested the coffin, and the entire front of the massive structure facing toward the Champs Elysees was hung with an immense black veil, behind which fun- , eral urns held blazing fires. It was an august, serene sight, that of a master of thought, a great writer, thus reposing, amidst the sound of cannon, the rolling of drums, and the tolling of bells, under the glorious arch which Napo- leon I had consecrated to Marengo. But the one whom we saw resting in the AN APOSTLE OF PEACE. 329 Triumphal Arch, was no captain whose name and glory had been won in battle. His was not the body of some conquering monarch, returned from many victories. No, it was only that of an old man, who had during all his long life laboured for truth, for justice, and for liberty. We were assisting at the capture of a monu- ment raised to the Glory of War by one who was ever an Apostle of Peace. Napoleon had erected the splendid pile to perpetuate the spirit of greed and conquest ; but as we walked slowly and silently about under its wide- spreading shadow, we now saw that it was the tomb of one who had ever dreamt of a humanity full of peace and concord. The glory of France's armies is undying, but that glory has never been greater or more last- ing than the glory of her literature, her arts, and her sciences, all of which are as free to the world as the air we breathe. But France knows, Paris knows, that the wealth which she thus gives away will ever be her own. Truly the Parisians might properly say, " Non nobis solum sed toto mundo nati," of themselves and of their wonderful city. CHAPTER XVII. Lonis XVIII and his foreign friends — How they im- posed on the nation — Another revolution — The „ crown on the head of Louis Philippe — Transfor- mation of the capital — Egyptian obelisk and its history — The Colonne de Juillet — Increasing popu- lation of Paris — New streets and quarters — Sewers and fountains constructed — Gas introduced — A brilliantly illuminated city. The allied forces of Europe destroyed Napoleon's power, the Empire was beaten down and the ancien regime restored. It was an excellent moment to bring back to Paris all the old machinery that had been put to such bad use before 1789 ; tliat is to say, the clergy and nobility, with their feudal rights over others, the Gothic privileges, what not besides, and why not, so far back as Frangois I or even Philippe Augustus, if necessary. The time was well chosen to " defaire la revolution, 7 ' for France was low down in the dust, a vanquished nation. Prussians, Austrians, Eussians, and the Eng- lish entered Paris as its masters ; but they THE ALLIES IN POSSESSION". 331 brought with them a king who is known in history as Louis XVIII. That Sovereign was escorted to the Tuileries by German lancers, while Russian cossacks lined the roads to the palace, and British guards stood with him by the throne. Foreign armies were camped in and around Paris; foreign soldiers and officers were billeted on its inhabitants. The capital was forced to feed an enemy — now the allies of a French king and the French nobility. There was no other enemy then in France than the poor French people themselves, and oppression soon took the place of liberty. For that matter everybody was fatigued with wars, the country had had enough of glory, and the people were willing to support despotism if by doing so they could be assured of peace. But that plan was not to the taste of the court, the nobles, and the clergy. First Louis XVIII, then Charles X imposed heavily on an already distressed nation. Titles and privileges were reestablished, intolerable taxes were en- forced, and one saw in Paris only processions, missions, and expiations/ performed publicly 1 The only monuments raised in Paris during the restoration were three churches, two bridges, and a tomb called the Chapelle Expiatoire, and this tomb is empty, and always empty, of any trace of royalty. 332 PARIS. by priests, monks, and bishops, seemingly with- out any love for human beings. \ The Emigres, those of the nobility and gentry who had de- serted to the enemy and had served against France, were permitted to return ; while as much as two hundred million dollars was given them — taken forcibly from the people — " in recompense " ; yet when they were back in Paris they treated its population with insolence, even with intolerant tyranny. It was then that Charles X launched his famous " ordon- nances bottees," and once again Paris was forced to buy with her blood the liberty of France. It was only an affair of three days, those famous "journees de Juillet," in 1830, but Paris won, and the u King of the ^migr^s " took up once more the road leading to a foreign land. The crown which had fallen was picked up and placed on the head of Louis Philippe d' Orleans, and all his reign was a period of peace. Paris profited by this fact to grow larger, to embellish itself, to take on the airs and fashions of a real capital. Considerable works, such as bridges, ports, quays, public squares, public fountains, houses, etc., were undertaken, and the result was a great trans- AN EGYPTIAN OBELISK. 333 formation of the city, although not so great as was the one that took place in after years. Under Louis Philippe, the Hotel de Ville was enlarged and finished ; the Arc de Tri- omphe was completed ; the remains of Napo- leon I were brought from the dismal island of Saint Helena ; the obelisk of pink granite, dating from the days of Ranieses, was brought from the land of the Nile to the capital, to be erected where the dreadful guillotine had cut otf so many heads during the Reign of Terror. This Paris obelisk is not, however, one of " Cleopatra's needles," so called. It is one of two monoliths which Rameses — better known perhaps by his Greek title of Sesostris the Great — who reigned over Egypt fifteen or sixteen centuries before the birth of Christ, erected in front of the gate of the Temple that his great ancestor, Amenhotep III, had built in the East- ern suburbs of Thebes. Given to Louis Philippe by Mohammed Ali Pasha, Viceroy of Egypt, a vessel was sent for it across the Medi- terranean, and up the Nile to the place near where it stood, the poor village of Luxor. It was a difficult task to bring it from inland to the river's edge, then to load it on the vessel and thence to convey it safely to the Place de 334 PABIS, la Concorde. But though it is one single piece of stone weighing two hundred and forty tons, the work of transfer was without accident, and the expense of the whole undertaking was not more than two hundred thousand dollars. To Egyptologists the hieroglyphics cut in bas-relief on the four sides of that obelisk are as clearly understood as so many A B C's These hieroglyphics are inscriptions ; that is to say, a short history, celebrating the glory of the two Kings Rameses II and III, their victories, their piety, etc., and recalling the fact that it was they who had erected this magnificent monument at Thebes in honour of that city's great god, to whom it was consecrated. This, indeed, was the real intention of all these singular monuments of Egyptian invention, colossal grandeur, and eternal duration. All Egyptian obelisks are monoliths, a word signifying a single piece of stone. They were hewn in the famous quarries of Syene or As- souan, at the extreme Southern boundary of Egypt, the barrier between that country and Nubia, where the primitive rock forms a stony ledge through which the broad stream of the K ile bounds in a succession of boisterous rapids, called the First Cataract, into the placid valley COLONNE DE JTJILLET. 335 of Upper Egypt, and whence it is seven hun- dred and fifty miles to Alexandria, as the crow flies. Time and space and bulk are bewildering when we contemplate these wonderful obelisks. The whole number ever produced, great and small, hardly exceeds fifty, and of these only fourteen of the standing monoliths exceed fifty feet in height. These fourteen are distributed between five countries as follows : five at Rome, two in France, one at Constantinople, one at London, one at New York, and the remaining four in Egypt. The precedence in altitude belongs to what is known as Pharoah's needle, which stands be- fore the church of St. John Lateran at Rome, which is one-hundred five feet, seven inches tall ; the one at Paris measures seventy-six feet, six inches; the one on the Thames Em- bankment, sixty-eight feet, five inches ; the one at New York, sixty-seven feet, two inches. Straightway East, and about two miles from the Luxor monument in the Place de la Concorde, stands a monument of more actual significance, one more dear to the hearts of Parisians, and which was also erected during the reign of Louis Philippe. The Colonne de 336 PARIS. Juillet stands where the Bastille once was, and it was raised in 1840. It bears on its face, in gilded letters graven deep on bronze, the names of those who perished in the cause of liberty in July, 1789. The Bastille Saint Antoine, elsewhere re- ferred to in these pages, and whose downfall opened the era of the French Revolution, was constructed between the years 1371 and 1383, inclusive. It had eight great round towers, double walls, and a moat eighty-three feet wide by twenty-six feet deep; nevertheless, that powerful prison fortress was captured and de- stroyed by the populace within a few short hours. One of its stones is now in the Carnavalet Museum ; but much of its material served in building a bridge at the Place de la Concorde, and its key was given by Lafayette to George Washington. It now hangs in one of the rooms at Mt. Vernon. The column on the site of the Bastille is of the Corinthian style with composite capitals. It rests on a massive sub-basement of white marble, circular in form, and its height is one hundred and fifty-three feet, not counting the colossal Genius of Liberty in gilded bronze which surmounts the top. There is a winding POPULATION INCKEASING. 337 stair inside, of two hundred and forty steps, leading up to a wide gallery, from whence a splendid view is obtained. Meanwhile, and as the centuries rolled by, the population of the capital kept on increas- ing ; but its increase of size in superficial area has not been comparatively so great as with other large cities. During the reign of Henry IV there were about three hundred thousand inhabitants; under Louis XIV the population had increased to something like five hundred thousand ; and when the Revolution occurred there were perhaps seven hundred thousand souls within the city. But the nineteenth century witnessed the capital's growth from eight hundred thou- sand souls to two million six hundred thousand, and yet there are fewer houses in Paris than in Philadelphia, a city which can hardly boast one-third so many inhabitants. As the capital grew, it was necessary to create new streets and new quartiers. Under Louis XV Paris counted nearly five hundred rues, one hundred public places, and thirty- five thousand houses. Then the city walls were demolished, and the bastions disappeared, all except those on the Bastille, which remained 338 PAEIS. until the Revolution. The bastions on the northern and on the old walls to the south were torn down. Then the moats were filled in with earth, the new ground was planted with grass and flower seed, and the quartiers on the left bank were beautified. A circle of avenues around the University was planted with trees, and the boulevards of the Invalides, of Montparnesse, of Port Royal, of Saint Marcel and of l'Hopital sprung into existence. The enciente of that side of town included the old Faubourgs of Saint Germain and of the Luxem- bourg, and for the first time since the Romans, Paris found itself deprived of all ramparts. It was now an open city, with a superficial area, all within its boulevards, of about two thou- sand five hundred acres. In 1728 the names of streets were placed at all the corners, and houses were numbered for the first time. Some sewers were dug, but these, like the grand egout, .which followed in a stream known as the Menilmontant that no longer exists, were all uncovered. They were simply canals, rivieres d^ ordures, as they have been called since then. A few public fountains were constructed, notably the beautiful " fon- taine de la Rue de Grenelle," new quays were GAS INTRODUCED. 339 built on both sides of the river, and already the people began to think of lighting up their capi- tal. In 1688, Louis XIV had established some lanterns lighted by tallow dips in many of the streets, but these flickering flames did not prevent nocturnal robberies and assassina- tions; the celebrated Cartouche manoeuvered his band of thieves on the Pont Neuf , the very . centre of Paris, and despite the lanterns and the police, so late as 1720. Fifty years later these insufficient lights were replaced by lamps supplied with reflectors, and these remained in use until gas was introduced. The use of gas at Paris really began during the reign of Louis Philippe, although the lighting of the capital with it had been tried under the Restoration ; but it was not until the time of the Citizen King that night was thus vanquished. The city was not then so brilliantly illuminated, however, as it is now, although a great deal was accomplished in that direction. Paris is in most respects a unique city, and certainly one of the chief things which contri- butes especially to her glory is the intensity and the harmonious variety which preside over the lighting at night of her great open squares 340 PARIS. and public thoroughfares. The need of artifi- cial light is not a particularity of streets and avenues, however; we also want our apart- ments and houses to have such a profusion of it that our ancestors, who to illuminate their nights and their rooms only had the blaze of a smoky tallow dip, would be greatly aston- ished if they saw the gas jets and the electric lights, so intense and decorative, of the present day. In matters of artificial lighting, Paris has maintained the advance guard of progress. Never have other capitals equalled it, and all foreigners visiting the city have unbounded admiration for the beautiful lines of light, and for the superb candelabra or lamp-posts, always cared for with such perfect neatness, which are to be see in every street. This lighting up, which plays such a consid- erable rdle in the life of the great capital, has necessitated the construction of immense manu- factories, wherein many trains of coal are used in a single day; while under ground immense canalisations have been constructed. One company alone employs ten thousand persons, possesses nine factories, distills per annum more than one million, two hundred thousand THE EXPENSE CONSIDERABLE, 341 tons of coal, and distributes its gas, in Paris and some few of the suburban communes, through a canalisation of mains and branch pipes which extend for over one thousand, eight hundred miles. When this company was formed, the price of gas for public lighting was fixed at three cents, while private individuals paid six cents the metre ; this is still the price paid for gas in Paris, and more than three hundred and twenty million of cubic metres are consumed annually. Every gas metre has to be verified and marked by city officials as often as possible, and about fifty thousand are thus examined annually. Only water gas metres are used, and the num- ber of subscribers in the company referred to exceeds two hundred and sixty-five thousand to-day. This number would be greatly in- creased if the price of gas were lowered, and if the accessory expenses were brought down to reasonable figures. In most cities at least half the burners are extinguished through economy at midnight, and sometimes when the moon is supposed to bring into street lighting the competition of its pale beams, only a few burners are left lighted. This system does not prevail in Paris, however, 342 PARIS. and throughout the streets, avenues, boulevards, and other open spaces of the capital, more than sixty-five thousand lamps are burning the night long. Besides these gas lamps, there are a great many electric lights scattered over the city. The Champs Elysees is naturally the most brilliantly illuminated of all, but the main boulevards and the principal avenues are also splendidly lighted, and on the whole the capi- tal is undoubtedly the best-lighted city in the world. Gas is expensive, however, a matter of about $2.04 per thousand cubic feet in fact; while it is only about $1.25 in New York for the same amount. It is true the city of Paris gets all its gas for one-half the price, that is to say, about $1.02 per thousand cubic feet. Moreover, Paris shares the profits made by the companies which supply this gas, at least $3,- 000,000 going to the city under the terms of the concession. CHAPTER XVIII. The So-called walls of Paris — Their use and their use- lessness — The era of Baron Haussmann — Birth and growth of the " Ville Lumiere" — Beautiful public gardens and broad thoroughfares — The Buttes Chaumont — Description of a Paradise for the poorer classes — The Pare Monceau — Once known as " Philippe's Folly/' now the sweetest playfield in existence — The trees of the Capital and their cultivation — Millions of flower plants set out in the Spring and early Summer. Besides the credit of having inaugurated the first railway, of having had the nephew of an Emperor and son of a King tried for conspiracy* against the State before a Court of Peers, of having brought Napoleon's remains from St. Helena, of having erected the Colonne de Juil- let, of seizing and holding Algeria, and of lighting Paris with gas, to mention only a few of the more important events, — the " Citizen King" and his Government are also responsible for the fortifications which still surround the capital. 344 PARIS, This wall, as it is called by most foreigners, is impassible only to peaceful people, for any army could get over it, or batter it down with- out much trouble. It was constructed at the instigation of Monsieur Thiers, who was then the King's advisor. Here and there are portes or gateways, in all thirty-two or three, through which teams, carriages, tramcars, and persons may come into or go out from the great city. For defensive purposes, as against an enemy, these ditches and works are really of no conse- quence; nevertheless, just outside of them is a military zone, which is as much under the con- trol of the war department as any part of the French army. The fortifications, or barriers, serve effectually for the octroi service of the city, but the neces- sity of the military zone is something not so easily understood. However, these dry moats and earth-covered walls are now and then threatened by the spades and picks of demoli- shes, for the talk every few years is that a bill is about being introduced into the French Par- liament, the intent of which is to suppress the fortifications. Twelve or fifteen years ago it was a question of demolishing them, but the Deputies and the Government officials could A WASTE OF MUCH LAND. 345 not agree as to the better way of going about it, and so it was permitted to rest in peace among the pigeon-holes of unfinished business^ The question is more complex than one would suppose, and it is difficult to decide it one way or the other. If it were only neces- sary to consider civil interests the thing would be all right and quickly attended to. Everybody in Paris is aware of the inconvenience which these fortifications create, not to speak of the great spaces of unprofitable land that serve only for the shanty habitation of the worst prowlers in Paris, a result of the dense overcrowding of the population, and which brings on, with the high price of land, an increase in rents, obstruc- tion of streets, elevation of houses, deplorable urbaine hygiene, and, to crown all, continual troubles in the relation of the different quarters of Paris with the really large towns which are growing up just outside the city walls. The surface occupied by the military grounds measures close on to one thousand and fifty- five acres, the zone itself is one thousand, nine hundred and fifty acres at the least ; fortifica- tions render useless more than four million square metres, and the military zone more than seven million square metres of land : counting 346 PAKIS. the average price at which land is sold in the city, it is easily seen that, owing to these bar- riers, a colossal fortune is not being used at all. This is an immense loss, especially for a popu- lation the density of which gives to each Pari- sian a superficial space of only about one hun- dred and forty feet. If we take into account the space occupied by the River Seine, the Champ de Mars, the Tuileries gardens, the Champs ]^lysees, and the other promenades, also the quays, streets, boulevards, railway stations, and government warehouses, this space is reduced by about half to the actual sur- face for each individual. There are parts of town where Parisians have no more land to live on than that accorded them for their last sleep ? which is two metres. Moreover, there is not another capital any- where in the civilised world which is sur- rounded by walls or fortifications. London has none, nor Berlin, nor Vienna, nor has Paris always had them, although we read a good deal about them in her past history. Of that past enough has been already written ; suffice it to say here that Louis XIV gave orders to have the walls pulled down, and their site was turned into boulevards. LINE OF FORTIFICATIONS. 347 But under Louis XVI, and in 1782, a new wall was constructed which enclosed not only the capital, but several suburban villages or faubourgs; however, that was done, not for defense, but to facilitate the collection of the octroi, or duties paid on all articles entering the capital. Then in 1840 a law was passed directing the construction of a continuous line of fortifications outside that wall, and consisting of ninety-four bastions with a wide ditch, the whole being a circumference of nearly twenty miles, and which cost twenty-eight million dollars. The old octroi wall was pulled down in 1860, and the line of fortifications became the limit of the capital. But the war of 1870-71 demon- strated their uselessness, the detached forts which formed an important part of the system having alone stood the whole brunt of the siege. Since then the city has been surrounded by a second series of detached forts, at a distance of from ten to fifteen miles beyond the fortifica- tions; hence these latter, beside being useless for defensive purposes, impede the growth of the city while occupying a space of land worth at least fifteen million dollars. No changes were made in Paris during the Second Republic, but that regime gave univer- 348 PARIS. sal suffrage to the whole of France, as it abol- ished slavery in all the French possessions. In one way universal suffrage was a mistake, for it enabled Louis Napoleon to assume the Presi- dential office ; and then followed the coup d'etat. The stroke delivered, "the Prince," as he was called, was acclaimed, a solemn Te Deum was chanted at Notre Dame, and the Second Empire was established. Then Baron Haussmann's reign as Prefect of the Seine began, and under his administration Paris was made the ville lumiere. The era of Expositions Universelles also opened, and has since continued, to the great good of everybody throughout the earth. In the mean time Paris was enjoying a richly gilded Court, no end of fetes, a Coronation, an Impe- rial baptism, religious processions, and military celebrations after French victories in the Crimea and in Italy. That entire period in Paris might well be termed the stone age ; for never before, or elsewhere, was seen so much building going on. The jievre de la truelle had seized on the city, and in fifteen years the capital was transformed, one might even say made new. Everywhere new streets new avenues, new boulevards, new quartiers. Everywhere trees CHANGES OF THE IMPERIAL PERIOD. 349 implanted, beautiful squares opened, bridges and quays built, sewers constructed and foun- tains placed. In all parts of Paris new churches, new theatres, new barracks, new markets, new mansions, sumptuous hotels and great apartment houses sprang up. The Boule- vard Saint Michel, on the left side of the river, and running thence South to the observ- atory ; the Boulevard du Palais, on the He de la Cite, and on one side of which is an entrance to the Palace of Justice, on the other Police Headquarters; the Boulevards of Sebastopol and of Strasbourg on the right shore of the Seine — these were among the broad avenues laid out by Monsieur Haussmann. Meanwhile an immense quarter was being created in the West of town. The Quartier des Champs Elysees, from the Church of the Madeleine to the Triumphal Arch, is the quarter of the rich ; it is wide, full of trees and shrubbery, of splendid mansions, and elegant " flats. " It quite throws in the shade the equally aristocratic and older quartier known as the Faubourg Saint Germain. It would be impossible to mention all the transformations which Paris underwent during that Imperial period, although something must 350 PAEIS. be said of the public parks, the gardens and the squares, which were then created or remade, and which have since been maintained in all their beauty by the Paris authorities. As there are more than one hundred and thirty of these public places — not including boulevards and avenues, in themselves splendid promenades — w^e shall have to leave many of them un- described, for the present at any rate. Their extent is quite considerable, there are two thousand acres in the Bois de Boulogne, and there are two thousand, two hundred acres in the Bois de Yincennes alone. There is not a quarter of the town which has not two or more of public gardens in it, and all are beautifully laid out and handsomely planted with trees, shrubbery and flowers. Most of this park and place adornment has been done within the past thirty years ; still, Paris was always famous for its many landscape beauties. Among the older spots is the little garden of the Tour Saint Jacques, already spoken of. The Jardin du Temple, on the street of that name, was laid out at almost the same period as the one of Saint Jacques. Like most Paris gardens, that of the Temple has its own peculiar class of habitues and it is one of the BEAUTIFUL PUBLIC GARDENS. 351 handsomest of the smaller squares of the capital, even though it is located in an inferior part of town. Shut in by tall houses on three sides, and, on the fourth, by the long f a£ade of the National Library, is an unpretentious square, with a few flower-beds, and a small stretch of green lawn, while in the centre of it is a hand- some bronze fountain. This Place Louvois was formed by the pulling down of the Opera House in which the Duke du Berri was assas- sinated. In front of the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers is a large garden, with fine old horse- chestnuts and plenty of pretty flower-beds. The scions of the aristocratic families of the Faubourg Saint Germain have a favourite play- ground in front of the Church of Sainte Clothilde, a Gothic edifice with two spires, not far from the Palais Bourbon. But the open- ing of the Boulevard St. Germain greatly changed the aspect of that quartier, and many of its old eighteenth century houses disap- peared before the picks and spades of the modern improvers. However, in the Rues de Grenelle, de Bellechasse, de l'Universite, de Varennes, and other streets that could be named, there are fine mansions which are hidden from 352 PARIS. public view by high walls that enclose parks and gardens of great size. Between 1858 and 1865 a number of new squares and gardens were laid out by Baron Haussmann. Close to the Halles Centrales, or main market houses, is a pretty garden occupying in part the site of an old cemetery. The founding of the Church of Saints Inno- cents, in the Rue Saint Denis, near the corner of the Rue aux Fers, was due to the conduct of certain Jews in that neighbourhood. They had killed a young man who reviled their race and religion; after his death he performed miracles, whereupon the pious public erected a sacred edifice on the place toward the close of the twelfth century, and around this new church a cemetery was soon formed. Two centuries later a gallery called les cliarniers, a gloomy, damp gallery paved with funeral stones and filled with tombs, was constructed. Afterwards other galleries were made for this " Charnier des Innocents," and in these vaulted, dismal, subterranean halls many famous Parisians were laid away. Before the Revolution the cemetery and charniers were destroyed, all the human bones which had been accumulating during five or OLD FOUNTAIN DES INNOCENTS. PAKK OP THE BTJTTES CHAUMONT. 353 six hundred years were gathered up, and the Church itself was demolished. Meanwhile, however, indeed a long while before this, a fountain had been erected in the place ; it was the joint work of Pierre Lescot and Jean Grou- jon. When the cemetery was suppressed this de- lightful monument was carefully taken up and carried to the centre of the new marketplace, where it remained until the creation of the Boulevard de Sebastopol, and the enlarging of the market made it necessary to remove it once more. In 1788 the Marche des Innocents was fully established, and soon that quasi-aristo- cratic group of women known in the history of Paris as the " Dames de la Halle " had grown up to be another power in the capital. The children of the rich had the Tuileries Garden and Pare Monceau in which to sport amidst the freshness of Nature ; and so it be- came necessary that children of the poor should have their square on the Buttes of Chaumont. Commenced in 1862 under the Empire, the Park of the Buttes Chaumont was not finished until at the time of the Exposition in 1867, but it has been greatly embellished since then. This promenade which occupies a superficial 354 PARIS. area of forty acres is in the form of a crescent the two extremities of which terminate in the Rues de Crimee and de Puebla. In the space embraced between these two curves, the de- signers have made fine use of the rises of the ground ; at one time in the form of soft mounds, at others covered with groups of emerald where trees, flowers, and clear water distribute shade and freshness in great profusion. A running stream passes under a bridge and loses itself in a grotto of Cyclopean proportions, the vaults of which measure seventy feet from base to sum- mit; stalactites from twenty-four to twenty- seven feet long hang down from the top of this grotto ; whilst elsewhere a cascade of consider- able volume roars through large rocks and feeds the river which empties itself into a round lake. In the middle of the lake rises a real cliff which appears as though it had been carried away from some seashore, and which is united to the crater of the hill, whence gushes a cataract, by a stone bridge the only arch of which is more than sixty feet above the water. At the summit of this cliff stands an open ro- tunda, built in the Greek style, of an entable- ment and a crown supported by eight Corinthian columns. PARADISE FOR POOR PEOPLE, 355 A second bridge passes over the line of the Metropolitan Railway at a place where the park borders the Rue de Crimee. There is also another bridge established over a thoroughfare so as to give access to the Rue Fessart which passes through the huttes. A wonderful hori- zon unfolds itself when looking from the cul- minating points of this Park, hundreds of burghs and verdant villas ranging themselves one above the other in an endless circle. Paris itself lies stretched out below ; and this is the Paradise of the poor people of the capi- tal. One should see the little children in the arms of their mothers, in blue and black aprons, playing in the sun, which seems here to shine for everybody, and lying on the ground or rolling; themselves in the sand with the remains of what had once been toy wheelbarrows. Older •urchins speak to the pebbles in a simple language of their own. Those children do not yet know that the sand with which they are amusing themselves, or that the earth out of which they are making mud pies, was reddened with the blood of many victims in former days. For it was on that spot that the Gibbet of Montfaugon was erected. First of all, in the year 855, the Butte of 356 PARIS. Mont Chauve (Calvus mons) was the theatre of a fierce battle waged against the Norman in- vaders by Count Eudes, Governor of Paris. It was a terrible day ; thousands of the enemy bestrewed the ground, while of the Paris militia almost as many fell. Five centuries afterward, Enguerrand de Marigny, Minister of Philippe le Bel, set up the first Gibbet of Montfaugon, so-called from the name of Lord Falco who occupied a large residence at the summit of the knoll. Like Dr. Guillotin, and most inventors of capital punish- ment instruments, first Enguerrand, and then Pierre de Brosse and Pierre Remy, who had perfected the gibbet, were victims to their own machine. The three of them were hanged, and referring to the subject, Mezeray, the historian, says : " They had the honour of being placed on high, above all other thieves.' ' Living persons were also buried under the gallows, and it is related that in 1440, Jean- nette, the bonne Valette, and three other women underwent the same chastisement for certain demerits, after which they were thrown into a hole seven feet long. Despite these monstrous customs, religious pity did not give up its rights, and before be- A SINISTER DRAMA. ing led to the scaffold, the unfortunate crea- tures were compelled to pass the Convent of the Filles Dieu, which stood on the site now occu- pied by the Passage de Caire. The condemned man alighted from the waggon at the door of the Monastery, the Superioress came to receive him candle in hand; then, after having given him the Crucifix to kiss, she handed him three pieces of bread and a glass of wine — this was called the "repas du patient." That convent, founded by William III, Bishop of Paris in the thirteenth Century, was suppressed at the time of the Revolution, on the grounds that it received no one into it unless the applicant should furnish proofs of moral weaknesses. In 1527, the gibbet gathered in a noble prey, none other than J acques de Sambla^ay, Super- intendent of Finances under Charles VIII, Louis XII, and Frangois I. On August 28, 1572, Montfaucon saw a still more sinister drama enacted on its heights. Admiral de Coligni was hung up by his feet, having been beheaded the evening before, and Catherine de Medicis, accompanied by her son and all the court, went there to insult his corpse. In 1761 the gallows was transferred to the 358 PARIS. foot of the Buttes Chaumont, but there had been enougli atrocities perpetrated. The vic- tims cried out for vengeance, the Charnel House was full, and so the Revolution pulled the scaffold down. On the 30th of March, 1814, a battle took place around the hill ; that was when Napoleon's army was trying to repulse the allied forces, and were defeated, for Bonaparte was absent at the time. The Buttes Chaumont is, undoubtedly, a beautiful park, arranged for the benefit of the poorer classes, and there is a similar but smaller park in another part of town, that of Mont Louis ; however, the handsomest garden of all in Paris is the Pare Monceau. Originally laid out and planted by the Due d 7 Orleans in 1778, it was long known as " Philippe's Folie " ; it was larger then than it is now, and was the favourite promenade of Jean Jacques Rousseau. The property changed owners several times during and subsequent to the Revolution, but it was finally restored to the Orleans family, and Louis Philippe spent a large sum embel- lishing it. In 1852 the park was confiscated, and about one-half of the land was sold for building lots, THE PARC MONCEAU. 359 on which were erected some of the finest private residences in the capital. The rest o£ the grounds became the property of the city, and it is to-day one of the most beautiful parks in ex- istence. The grounds are rather those of a garden than a park ; however, they are so de- lightfully varied in all their parts, so bright and green, so interesting with everchanging vegetation, so stored with new or rare, neg- lected, forgotten or curious plants, that I have always looked on the Pare Monceau as one of the fairest garden spots on earth, as it also is one of the sweetest playfields for young chil- dren m existence. There are some curious legends connected with the lovely park of Monceau. Near a cer- tain grotto is a kind of pyramid called the u gambler's grave." It is said that during a night of wild spreeing the Duke of Orleans quarrelled with one of his companions at" play, and gave him such a blow that the man died immediately. The murder was kept secret, and the victim was buried where the pyramid now stands. This " gambler's grave," a grace- ful little bridge, here and there a few splendid statues, several large vases filled with flowers, and, above all, a delicious naumachia, whose 360 PAEIS. ivy-covered pillars with their finely wrought capitals are reflected in the waters of a small lake, are the principal ornaments of the park. In all times trees have been subject to spe- cial cultivation on the part of the population of Paris. One of the most famous was an elm, which used to stand in front of the Church of St. Gervais ; then there is the elm of the estab- lishment for the Deaf and Dumb in the Rue St. Jacques, a veritable giant, whose head rises high above all the surrounding buildings. The chestnut tree of the 20th of March, in the garden of the Tuileries, may also be mentioned, while upon the hillock of the Jardin des Plantes rises the Cedar of Lebanon which the natural- ist Jussieu is said to have brought to Paris in his travelling hat. Nor must it be forgotten that it was from one of the trees of the Palais Royal that Camille Desmoulins plucked the leaf which became a green cockade and rally- ing sign for the combatants of those who took the Bastille. Outside of these venerable ancestors a real forest vegetates in Paris. Counting the plan- tations of the public streets, the communal establishments, and the cemeteries, there are CULTIVATION OF TREES. 361 not less than 120,000 trees in line within the fortifications ; this does not include the trees found in private gardens, so vast and numer- ous in certain aristocratic quarters, nor even those of the public gardens. And note this further fact that outside the public ways there exists inside the capital, in the form of parks, gardens and public squares, a total service of about four thousand acres. Neverthe- less, it is not an easy thing to assure the life of trees in Paris. A soil impregnated with infil- trations of gas, and an air charged with the smoke of factories, are the surroundings in which those poor transplanted bits of vegetation pass a living death. The elms of the boule- vards and of the public gardens readily fall victims to that terrible microbe, the scolyte, which furtively introduces itself between the trunk and the bark and devours the tree until death follows. This is why more durable kinds have been chosen, and the elm is being replaced by foreign species of vegetation. It is not without enormous expense that the city of Paris forms and takes care of these plantations. A trench is dug, which is filled with vegetable earth, so as to create an artifi- cial soil wherein the root can develop without 362 PARIS. hindrance. Then comes the question of water- ing. At the foot of the tree a deep basin is made, this is covered with a grating so that the soil may always remain permeable ; then when the roots are extended, water reaches them by a system of drains, which communicate with sewer branches, and which drains can be closed at will, by means of valves. But the Parisian tree has still another enemy, that of gas, the leakage of which finishes it by emaciating it and causing it to die. Care has therefore been taken to envelop the gas pipes and branches in a sort of drainage which has communications with the outside air. Thanks to all these cares, it has been possible to endow Paris with plantations which contribute as much to its ornamentation as to its salubrity. These operations bring the price of each tree to the relatively high sum of forty dollars. Besides trees there are plants and flowers scattered profusely throughout the town. "When it is time for Paris to take off her winter toilet and make her appearance in spring attire it requires nearly one million flower plants, and these are distributed by hundreds of gardeners and their assistants. The total number of plants often employed at one time for the SCIENTIFIC HORTICULTURE. 363 toilet of the capital is about two millions. The nurseries which produce them are situated in various parts of the city or its immediate suburbs. In the Bois de Boulogne, near the racecourse of Longchamp, are the nursery grounds of trees with caducous leaves. At Auteuil, on the road to the village of Boulogne, in a sandy soil, excellent for their propagation, are placed a collection of resinous trees, plants with persistent leaves, and heath- mould plants. On the banks of the River Marne, at a village called Petit-Buy, the plane trees which are planted along the boulevards are cultivated ; and, finally, out at Vincennes a large assignment of land is reserved for orna- mental plants. The central establishment, near La Muette, at Passy, is one of the most con- siderable horticultural laboratories in the world, and has thirty conservatories. Immense cellars lit by gas form the depository of tuber- cular plants during the winter, and there are special hothouses for larger species. One is set aside for palm trees, while others are for plants with abundant foliage. It is, of course, necessary to study the particu- lar nature of the soil of each square or garden so as to plant those trees that are best suited 364 PARIS. to it. Where the land is rich and deep, trees from Virginia, oaks from North Carolina, and trees with persistent leaves can be implanted successfully, while in a shady piece of land that is porous and filled with young roots, large resinous plants from the temperate zones of the globe will flourish best. But the flora of Europe, Asia and temperate America are no longer sufficient, and delicate plants and trees from the torrid zones are used. These plants must be brought to forget their natal well-being, and by a sort of divination, as though they had not been seen, the site and soil where they were born has to be produced artificially ; for as many of them must bud and flower in a climate different from their own, the sun and warm shade of the tropical forest is supplied to them by artificial means. Paris : Past and Present Volume II PART ONE. " And Statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons." [Tennysoist. VOLUME TWO. CHAPTER I. View from the Arc du Carrousel— Two pretty little gardens close to the Louvre — The Jardin des Tui- leries — Place de la Concorde — The Champs Elysees — Its origin and present appearance — Why the Cours la Reine was constructed — Modern life in the Elysian fields — A vista without a rival — Flowering plants and playing fountains — An at- tractive promenade on Sundays — The Wide Avenue leading up to the Arch of Triumph — A field for philosophical observation. A fine spot from whence to obtain a first impression of Paris, especially of the capital between the old Louvre Palace and the great Arch of Triumph, is from the top of the Napoleonic arch in the Place du Carrousel. The view seen thence, full as it is of trees and statues, of mansions, art buildings, and splashing fountains, and stretching away for a mile or more, is indeed remarkable. 4 PAKIS. The outlook begins with two pretty little gardens in a narrow open space between those wings of the Louvre that are occupied on one side by the Ministry of Finances, on the other by the National Gallery of Fine Arts. Then comes the large square of the Carrousel ; next, a handsome garden which covers the ground where the Palais des Tuileries once stood ; after that it is the famous Jardin des Tuileries ; and thence, seen across the Place de la Concorde, through the trees and promenade of the Champs Elysees, it is an immense perspective slowly rising and gloriously terminating with the Tri- umphal Arch. All the details of this wonder- ful picture are ravishing, the ensemble being of unequalled grace and grandeur. In a unique position, near the River Seine, between the Tuileries Garden and the shaded promenades of the Champs Elysees, with the Navy Department, the Church of the Madeleine, and one of the finest Club houses in Paris on the right, and the Chamber of Deputies and the Speaker's Mansion on its other side, though across the river, opens out that open square of the capital known as the Place de la Concorde. It is the most admirable public place in Europe, but it is almost wholly a creation of compara- PLACE DE LA CONCORDE. 5 tively recent years. Two centuries ago in the middle of the horseshoe-shaped termination of the Tuileries Garden there was a drawbridge, by means of which that park was placed in communication with the Cours la Heine and the Champs ]£lysees, and the space between this bridge and the broad avenue was a public resort for everybody. Then it was surrounded by ditches and a stone balustrade, while in the middle stood a bronze equestrian statue of Louis XV. The King was dressed in the Roman style, the figure was fifteen feet high from head to foot, that being also the length of the horse on which he was mounted. At each of the four corners of the square w r ere two small pavilions which were intended to form pedestals for eight allegorical figures; many years afterward this project was completed by the erection of eight colossal figures, each emblematical of the larger cities of France. The equestrian statue soon disappeared, its place was taken by one of Liberty, and the latter witnessed some strange events before it too was torn down. The Place de la Concorde was originally called the Place Louis XV, and after that the Place de la Revolution. The aim of its architects, 6 PARIS, as it was also of the authorities who ordered its creation, was that everything should be avoided which might recall the terrible scenes of which the spot had been the theatre in past times. In its centre stands the obelisk which has already been described, midway between two very large and remarkably beautiful fountains ; while at each of its four corners are two colossal figures emblematical of French cities. One of these, that of Strasbourg — for Strasbourg belonged to France when this statue was made — is always draped in mourn- ing, and half buried under wreaths of immor- telles. In front of the obelisk, which stands where the guillotine cut oif so many heads, stretches a wide piece of land, mainly a vista of trees, and which, unlike those in the Tuileries Garden, are not enclosed by thick stone walls and stout iron railings; and this vast open place, so justly called Champs ^lysees, or Elysian Fields, is perhaps the one great feature to all newcomers of the splendid capital. It is not precisely a new thing in Paris, for its present form dates back several years, but it is always so fresh and genial and attractive that it seems born but yesterday. It is a large body of ground, IX THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. 7 planted profusely with trees, shrubbery, and flowers, limited only on the south by the River Seine and the Cours la Reiue, and on the north by the Avenue Gabrielle, on the other side of which are the park and mansion of the British Ambassador, the gardens and palace of the President of the Republic, and the private prop- erties of two or three rich noblemen. To the east of it lies the Place de la Concorde ; while on the west is the Rond Point, and different broad avenues. From the Place de la Concorde and the marble horses of Marly, through the centre of these Elysian Fields runs the magnificent Avenue of the Champs lilysees, westward to the great Arc de l'^toile. This great " Com- mon," or public promenade and playground, was in olden times covered with vegetable gardens, meadows, rabbit warrens, and fields, with here and there a house, and thereby hangs a story. In the year 1616, Marie de Medicis, seeking every means possible to lessen her griefs as a widow, and very fond of getting rid of the sav- ings of Henri IV, had traced out and planted for herself and her courtiers a promenade be- tween the river and the Champs l^lysees to 8 PARIS. which was given the name Cours la Heine that it still bears. To it the Dukes of Guise and of Nevers, the Concini, the JCpernons, who not else of the aristocracy, came to surround the Regent, all of them robed in those brilliant costumes which had replaced the more sombre attire that had been a la mode during the pre- ceding reign. Men wearing close-coats of satin, small clothes or trunks mostly of scarlet colour, velvet cloaks, large boots, and long spurs of gold, with their hair in rivulets, their moustaches well waxed, their felt hats shaded with fine feathers, their rich aiguilletes and their duel- ling swords ; and women on litters in robes of silk embroidered with gold or silver, wearing large stiff collarettes, red ribbons called assas- sines, their lovely shoulders uncovered very low down, both back and front, and their pretty faces usually hidden behind black masques, — were in this aristocracy. Entrance to the Cours la Heine was forbidden to all those who wore woollen habits, or stockings of black worsted, or cloth hoods. In brief, the Regent's stroll was no place for the common people, who could "Allez vous promener" elsewhere — on the Pont Neuf, for instance. They might not enter the Jardin des Tuileries either, for that THE COURS LA HEINE. 9 matter, as there was an order posted up, " Les chiens et le peuple n'entrent pas," to prevent them. This garden and this cours was each an outdoor salon where the chosen few jested, flirted, talked of love, or gossiped the news of the fleeting hours. They criticised, dis- puted, and decided. They all tried to deceive each other, and in one way or another they probably had a very good time, from their point of view. But awhile later there was no longer any need of the people confining themselves to the Pont Neuf, or elsewhere in the upper part of the city; for the Champs IClysees had been prepared for them by Louis XIV. A Cours du Peuple had come and planted itself along- side of the Cours la Reine, and it soon became a popular resort for middle-class Parisians. One was the rendezvous of the rich ; the other, of the bourgeoise and poor. One was for idlers and noblemen ; the other, for workers and artisans. One harboured grande dames; and the other, grisettes, and, so far as could be seen, the only difference between these two last mentioned classes was that one kind were afoot and the other in carriages. The Champs ^lysees, like the Tuileries 10 PAEIS. Garden, was still a part of the Crown's domain ; but in 1792 it was transferred to the state, and in 1828 it was ceded to the city. Before the revolution these Elysian Fields were covered with quite a number of booths, stalls, cafes, and small public houses. Some of these stretched along the wide ditch which separated the new promenade from the Cours la Heine; while others stood on different carves or little squares, and thence gained their names, — as, for instance, Carre des Ambassadeurs, Carre de Doyen — the Ledoyen of recent years. In the main, how- ever, the history of the Champs ^ lysees hardly began before the Empire, although the famous marble horses were brought from Marly in 1794. Napoleon I had great liking for this vast open spot as a place of show, and in 1806 he began the ornamentation of its western horizon by laying the first stone of the Arc de Triomphe. Nine years later, Cossacks bivouacked in the Champs Elysees, and their horses ruined nearly all the trees by biting them. When the city came into possession of the grounds great changes were made in the place. From 1841 date the first concessions for the circus, the Cafe des Ambassadeurs, the Alcazar PALAIS DE L'lNDUSTKIE. 11 d'Ete (then Cafe Morel), the Pavilion Ledoyen, and the Pavilion de l'Horloge. That first circus of the- Champs Elysees was managed by Franconi — " l'illustre Franconi " — who had been with Astley, the English showman in London. In 1852 all the moats and ditches were filled in, and a part of the Champs Elysees was set apart for exhibitions and official purposes, the edifice known as the Palais de Tlndustrie being built at that time. Then Baron Haussmann's plans were definitely adopted ; the Place de la Concorde was completed as it now' is, fountains were constructed at the Rond Point, and the Champs Elysees of to-day was in existence. From the many booths, the summer circus, the theatre, the restaurants, the merry-go-rounds, the variety shows, the swings, and the arm- chairs, etc., all of which make the Elysian Fields so attractive to foreigners and Parisians alike, the city obtained an annual rental of about $60,000 until the grounds were some- what changed to meet the requirements of the Exposition of 1900. To-day this vista from the Tuileries Garden through the Place de la Concorde and up the Champs Elysees is without a rival. In it, 12 PARIS. when night comes on, one hears no cries of " On ferme," or drum's tattoo warning people that all gates ajar are to be locked tightly till the coming of another day. The grand avenue, with its wooden pavement ; the gravelled walks under chestnut trees; the splendid banks of earth, where plants are placed and fragrant flowers bloom, — are free to all, at all hours, to the poor as well as to the rich, to the foreigner as well as to those born within the capital. No police regulation here, as in Hyde Park, London, to exclude all vehicles below a certain rank, and the dirtiest, shabbiest fiacre that was ever drawn by an equine skeleton, and guided by the most brutal of men, may roll through the Champs JDlysees as freely as does the car- riage of a royal personage or the chariot of some great ambassador. Early in spring the Champs Elysees begins to show its gay attire. From early forenoon until the going down of the sun it is crowded with people from many lands. The chestnuts are showing bits of buds, the earth beds are gay with early flowering plants, the sprays of the many fountains glow with rainbow colours. Crowds of children in pretty costumes, ever barelegged, and bedecked with red or with THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. 13 blue ribbons, according to sex, play in gravelled paths. Inattentive dry-nurses give good eye to all passing soldiers; while the more ma- millary sort are not ashamed to make " expo- sitions de poitrines," which are almost as striking as those one sees at the drawing-rooms of crowned heads. The little goat-carts are crowded with customers, the merry-go-rounds are doing a thriving business, even the fellow with the weighing-machine has awakened for the day. On Sunday this is certainly one of the most curious parts of Paris, a place where one is sure to meet all the different social sets mixed up in most amusing promiscuity. Persons who have been all the week on a tailor's bench, in a hat shop, at dressmaking, or what not of all the busy and honest pursuits of life, hasten thither then to look at those who wear better clothes than they, or who ride in carriages while they must walk, no matter how far away from the lovely stretch of trees and playing grounds may be their common homes. People go there to study human nature and take fresh air baths. All along the Avenue one comes across friendly groups of bourgeois folk ; father dozing in his iron chair, mother holding her- 14 PAEIS. self very straight and stiff in her old silk gown, son sucking the head of his walking stick, daughter with pensive air poking holes into the earth with the ferruled point of her red parasol, as she meanwhile gives discreet glances at the men who happen to look in her direction. The wooden roadway rattles soberly with passing cabs and carriages, in which sit women nearly every one of whom has a pet dog curled up on the front seat opposite her noble self. There are thousands of iron chairs along this promenade, and as these can be occupied all day for two or three cents, none of them are long empty. All the world seems to be in the flood that ebbs and flows to and from the famous Rond Point. The trees are budding ; the Paris Punch and Judy show, called Guignol, has set up its miniature stage theatre, and as we pass, we can hear the shrill voice of the familiar little fellow, whose war on society and victory over the law, as represented by gendarmes and policemen, is the delight of old and young. Man is after all but a grown-up child, and even the gravest persons do not mind unbending themselves now and then down to lowly youth again. ITS PKESENT APPEAKANCE. 15 Here, by this Avenue Marigny, which leads off to the home of the President of the Re- public, is a diorama in which was long the picture of a great battlefield. This round structure stands just where the Folies-Marigny stood, and that theatre was where Offenbach produced the first operas bouffe that he ever composed. Across the Champs Elysees long stood that other famous diorama, the " Siege of Paris," which half the world has seen, but which is now no longer in existence. And here was the Circus, open every evening and on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday afternoons, during the summer months. The Rond Point is one of the loveliest spots in the capital, and from it we ascend the slop- ing avenue which leads to the Arc de Triomphe. There are no longer Elysian Fields, only a single row of trees on either hand, great broad sidewalks, tall stone houses, and a wide thor- oughfare. Let us sit here on this wooden bench at the corner of the Rue Marboeuf, and, while we are resting, watch the cavalcade of Parisian life which passes on its daily pilgrimage to and from the Bois de Bologne. It is a flood of social rank, or wealthy speculators, and of Bohemia ; 16 PARIS. it is a stream of successful vice and of success- ful talent and morality. Here, in the course of a single afternoon, when the air is balmy with the soft warmth of spring or early sum- mer, you will see those who are the glory and those who are the shame of Paris. Under this arched stretch of blue sky, through this golden, hazy atmosphere, roll cabs and carriages in which are society queens, theatrical stars, lead- ers of the demi-monde, adventurers from abroad, actors from every stage, from the Comedie humaine as well as from the Comddie Fran- chise. It is a magnificent field for philosophi- cal observation and reflection, this avenue of the Champs Elysees, flooded with air and sun- shine, and as full of souvenirs as was the Ap- pian Way of tombs and catacombs. Time was when the neighbourhood had large gardens which were owned by Jansen, a learned man, who was also an English baronet. When he died, in 1780, Mme. de Marboeuf pur- chased his property. There was a weeping willow in one garden which measured eighty odd feet in circumference. Another curious tree which the grounds contained was a cedar of Lebanon that is still in existence, but now lives in the Jardin des Plantes. The Conven- AMERICAN EPISCOPAL CHURCH. 17 tion made that garden free to the public, and one of its attractions was a hippodrome. " Idalie," as it was called, continued to be a Paris park until the end of the Restoration, when houses began to be constructed, and in a few years the quartier was tolerably well sprinkled with buildings. Now it is so thickly built up that there is hardly a vacant lot in that part of town. In the very centre of this splendid district stands the magnificent cathedral of the Ameri- can Episcopal church, and close by that sacred edifice is the house where the present writer lived during many happy years. CHAPTEK II. Boulevards of the Capital — The main one is nearly three miles long and bears many names — An ad- mirable thoroughfare — It starts at the Bastille and ends at the Madeleine — Beaumarchais, the author- poet — Mansion of a once notorious lady — Little cafes, little restaurants and little stores — Scene of an intended assassination — Numerous theatres along the way — The moving centre of Paris — Famous Boulevard Montmartre, with its many joys and misfortunes — A passage named in honour of Bobert Fulton — The street of mad pleasure — Place de l'Opera and the National Academy of Music — A most remarkable edifice outside and inside. There are boulevards and boulevards in Paris; one could never describe the half of them. Nor is it necessary to more than merely mention the boulevard of 1761 which com- menced at the Luxembourg and finished at the Esplanade des Invalides ; the boulevards which encircle the city of Paris and traverse those quarters of the capital where were once the villages of Menilmontant, Belleville, Mont- THE HISTORICAL BOULEVARDS. 19 martre, Batignolles, Passy, Vaugirard, and Ivry; the Boulevards Voltaire, Diderot, Richard Lenoir, Magenta, Grenelle, Montpar- nasse, Saint Jacques, Haussmann, Malesherbes and Saint Germain. But one must do better than that by the real boulevards, the boulevards par excellence, the historical boulevards, where- in almost every house is a monument of past incidents, accidents and tragedies ; those boule- vards which extend under the form of a half- circle from the Place de la Bastille to the Place de la Madeleine, a distance of nearly three miles. This long and admirable promenade, this great artery, always teeming with people and animals, is divided into many names and many quarters, and we may stroll now through its entire length. Following the road that the march of events has taken, the road that the Genius of Paris has pursued, coming from the shadow into the sunlight, from the dark corners of the Bastille into the clear spaces which shine out in the neighbourhood of the Champs JClysees, we start from the foot of that bronze mausoleum of heroes called the Column of July, and travel westward until we reach the Church of the Madeleine. 20 PAKIS. In other days, when people came into Paris by the Rue Saint Antoine, they saw, one after the other, the Bastille, the Arsenal, and then the house in which lived Beaumarchais, author of the " Marriage of Figaro." To-day the home of the poet is replaced by a third-rate theatre; white stones in the pavement mark the outlines of the state prison, with its Colonne de Juillet in the centre ; the edifice embellished by Henry IV, Louis XIII, and Louis XIV, after being a grain warehouse, has become a public library. The Boulevard Beaumarchais is so named in honour of the famous author ; and near his house once resided the notorious Cagliostro. As strangely curious as it may have been, his house was as nothing compared with the one in which lived Ninon de TEnclos. She was of that race of great courtesans whose mansions in the days of antiquity were frequented by artists, poets, and philosophers ; and she was so beautiful and spirituelle that her own son fell madly in love with her and mourned himself to death. That notorious woman early recognised the genius of Voltaire, then a young man almost unknown, and when she died she left him all the works in her library. THE HISTORICAL BOULEVARDS. 21 The Boulevard Beaumarchais is succeeded by the Boulevard des Filles de Calviere, so called from a convent of that name, which once stood in the neighbourhood. There are houses in this part of the Boulevard which are white with plaster put on to hide frightful wounds received in civil wars, and their foundations were laid in earth that still smells of blood and gunpowder. Next we have the Boulevard du Temple, a boulevard of little cafes, little restaurants, little shops and little stores of many kinds. Time was when it was called the " Boulevard du Crime," because there were so many theatres in it, where, every evening and on Sunday after- noons, melodramas were presented in which scenes of poisoning and assassination were the attractive elements. There is nothing except historical reminiscences left on the Boulevard du Temple however. It is noisy enough, but the eclat of the eighteenth century is missing. There are no more illuminations, concerts or balls attended by kings and courtesans; no more mysterious cabarets, wherein grandes dames give rendezvous to the lusty fellows of the faubourg; no longer a " Jardin de Paphos," a " Cadran Bleu," a u cafe d' Appollon," whose 22 PARIS, merry frequenters were afterwards represented by waxwork figures. Love and pleasure were long since driven out of that quarter of Paris by revolutions, and the misery of an unemployed or a lazy people. Next comes the Boulevard St. Martin, to reach which we pass through the Place de la Republique. Just off to the right is the The- atre Chateau d'Eau, where operas are given at cheap prices ; also, a large military barracks, and an immense structure built as a cooperative store, but which was a failure from the begin- ning. To the left is the Temple market of old clothes and shoddy new ones, that has already been described. Almost at the beginning of the Boulevard St. Martin stands a house, in the second story of which Fieschi planted the infernal machine which he intended should assassinate Louis Philippe. Just ahead of it on the right, is a theatre called the Folies Dramatiques, where Offenbach had his day. Further on is the Ambigu, home of the modern melodrama. In the same short block is the Porte St. Martin Theatre, which has its history, covering many years. Just before Louis XVI was beheaded it was burned down, to be rebuilt, however, in seventy days for the Grand THE HISTORICAL BOULEVARDS. 23 Opera. During the hand-to-hand fighting of the last days of the Commune, this theatre was again destroyed by fire, but it was soon rebuilt in a substantial manner. The very next door to the Porte St. Martin is the Renaissance Theatre. At the end of this boulevard is the Porte St. Martin, a triumphal arch erected in 1684, in honor of those victories of Louis XIV which added the Franche Comte to France. The Boulevard St. Denis, which follows, is very short, not more than three hundred yards in length, perhaps. Outside the Porte St. Denis (a triumphal arch, erected by Louis XIV in honour of his victories in Flanders and Holland), there is nothing of particular interest in this boulevard. Small tradespeople flourish in the Boulevard Bonne Xouvelle ; it is a street in which shrewd retailers grow rich, and shoemakers seek politi- cal preferment. The people of the neighbor- hood have great confidence in their own wisdom and believe themselves competent to rule over the destinies of France. The Gymnase Theatre in the Boulevard Bonne Xouvelle is one of the best theatres of all the many in the capital, and No. 25 of that boulevard is a house which was riddled with bullets, and searched from top to 24 PARIS. bottom by soldiers, in December, 1851. Its walls remained, all through the reign of Napo- leon III, a sort of great poster, on which had been, ineffaceably written the history of a ter- rible crime. The Boulevard Montmartre comes next, as a sort of antechamber or vestibule to the Boule- vard des Italiens. Where the Rue, the Fau- bourg and the Boulevard Montmartre cross each other, there is amoving mass of horses, vehicles, and humanity, such as cannot be found in any other city in the world. Good health and the sickness of the social evil, happiness and misery, honest workers and rascally loafers, men of genius and sharpers of all sorts, respectable women and painted outcasts, all kinds and classes meet there to swell a stream in which there is iron and gold and nasty mud. " One may trace the progress of liberty by the purple drops that Paris had shed along its path," once wrote an English historian referring to the Boulevard Montmartre. It is in this boulevard that so many misfortunes show themselves. Its pavements are absolutely crowded, day and night, and with carious people. Journalism thrives in this quarter. On the right and on the left printing presses are groaning, and at all the THE HISTORICAL BOULEVARDS. 25 little tables of the numerous cafes, editors and reporters, with politicians and actors, are seated, sipping their black coffee, or their lemonade, or their absinthe. Close by is the Passage des Panoramas, which owes its name to the spectacle of that sort introduced into France in February, 1799, by an American. It was that same American? who, when Napoleon was arranging for a de- scent upon England, presented the Emperor with a memorandum on the immediate application of steam to the navy. But French savans pre- vailed on the Emperor not to take any notice of the offer, and our countryman returned to the United States. Before Napoleon died, at St. Helena, he referred with regret to this refusal ; and he had a right to regret it, for the name of that man was Robert Fulton. Close at hand used to exist the Frascati, with its splendid gardens and gambling rooms. The spot is now occupied — back by a club-house, with its entrance in the Rue Vivienne; in front by a shop where one can get cakes and ices. All the blood of Paris seems rushing toward this spot ; and from these contrasts and their minglings, from these vices and virtues, from this mixed crowd, arises a warm perfume of irony and of passion, of