P A R I S
AND ITS STORY
BY
T. O K E Y
ILLUSTRATED BY
KATHERINE KIMBALL
& O. F. M. WARD
1904
LONDON: J. M. DENT & CO.
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.
“I will not here omit, that I never rail so much against France as to be out of humour with Paris; that city has ever had my heart from my infancy; and it has fallen out to me, as of excellent things, that the more of other fine cities I have seen since, the more the beauty of this gains upon my affections. I love it for its own sake, and more for its own native being than the addition of foreign pomp; I love it tenderly even with all its warts and blemishes. I am not a Frenchman but by this great city great in people, great in the felicity or her situation, but above all great and incomparable in variety and diversity of commodities; the glory of France and one of the most noble ornaments of the world.”
Montaigne.
Tot le meillor torna en douce France.”
Couronnement Loys.
PREFACE
THE History of Paris, says Michelet, is the history of the French monarchy. The aim of the writer in the following pages has been to narrate the story of the capital city of France on the lines thus indicated, dwelling, however, in the earlier chapters rather more on its legendary aspect than perhaps an austere historical conscience would approve. But it is precisely a familiarity with these romantic stories, which at least are true in impression if not in fact, that the sojourner in Paris will find most useful, translated as they are in sculpture and in painting on the decoration of her architecture both modern and ancient, and implicit in the nomenclature of her ways. Within the limits of time and space allotted for the work no more than an imperfect outline of a vast subject has been possible. The writer has essayed to compose a story of, not a guide to, Paris. Those who desire the latter may be referred to the excellent manuals of Murray, Bædeker and of Grant Allen—the last named being an admirable companion for the artistically-minded traveller. In controversial matter, such, for instance, as the position of the ancient Grand Pont, the writer has adopted the opinions of the most recent authorities.
The story of Paris presents a marked contrast with that of an Italian city-state whose rise, culmination and fall may be roundly traced. Paris is yet in the stage of lusty growth. Time after time, like a young giantess, she has burst her cincture of walls, cast off her outworn garments and renewed her armour and vesture. Hers are no grass-grown squares and deserted streets; no ruined splendours telling of pride abased and glory departed; no sad memories of waning cities once the mistresses of sea and land; none of the tears evoked by a great historic tragedy; none of the solemn pathos of decay and death. Paris has more than once tasted the bitterness of humiliation; Norseman, and Briton, Russian and German have bruised her fair body; the dire distress of civic strife has exhausted her strength, but she has always emerged from her trials with marvellous recuperation, more flourishing than before.
Since 1871, when the city, crushed under a two-fold calamity of foreign invasion and of internecine war, seemed doomed to bleed away to feeble insignificance, her prosperity has so increased that house rent has doubled and population risen from 1,825,274 in 1870 to 2,714,068 in 1901. The growth of Paris from the settlement of an obscure Gallic tribe to the most populous, the most cultured, the most artistic, the most delightful and seductive of continental cities has been prodigious, yet withal she has maintained her essential unity, her corporate sense and peculiar individuality. Paris, unlike London, has never expatiated to the effacement of her distinctive features and the loss of civic consciousness. The city has still a definite outline and circumference, and over her gates to-day one may read, Entrée de Paris. The Parisian is, and always has been, conscious of his citizenship, proud of his city, careful of her beauty, jealous of her reputation. The essentials of Parisian life remain unchanged since mediæval times. Busy multitudes of alert, eager burgesses crowd her streets; ten thousand students stream from the provinces, from Europe, and even from the uttermost parts of the earth, to eat of the bread of knowledge at her University. The old collegiate life is gone, but the arts and sciences are freely taught as of old to all comers; and a lowly peasant lad may carry in his satchel a prime minister’s portfolio or the insignia of a president of the republic, even as his mediæval prototype bore a bishop’s mitre or a cardinal’s hat. The boisterous exuberance of youthful spirits still vents itself in rowdy student life to the scandal of bourgeois placidity, and the poignant self-revelation and gnawing self-reproach of a François Villon find their analogue in the pathetic verse of a Paul Verlaine. Beneath the fair and ordered surface of the normal life of Paris still sleep the fiery passions which, from the days of the Maillotins to those of the Commune, have throughout the crisis of her history ensanguined her streets with the blood of citizens.[1] Let us remember, however, when contrasting the modern history of Paris with that of London, that the questions which have stirred her citizens have been not party but dynastic ones, often complicated and embittered by social and religious principles ploughing deep in the human soul, for which men have cared enough to suffer, and to inflict, death.
Those writers who are pleased to trace the permanency of racial traits through the life of a people dwell with satisfaction on passages in ancient authors who describe the Gauls as quick to champion the cause of the oppressed, prone to war, elated by victory, impatient of defeat, easily amenable to the arts of peace, responsive to intellectual culture; terrible, indefatigable orators but bad listeners, so intolerant of their speakers that at tribal gatherings an official charged to maintain silence would march, sword in hand, towards an interrupter, and after a third warning cut off a portion of his dress. If the concurrent testimony of writers, ancient, mediæval and modern, be of any worth, Gallic vanity is beyond dispute. Dante, expressing the prevailing belief of his age, exclaims, “Now, was there ever people so vain as the Sienese! Certes not the French by far.”[2] Of their imperturbable gaiety and the avidity for new things we have ample testimony, and the course of this story will demonstrate that France, and more especially Paris, has ever been, from the establishment of Christianity to the birth of
Paris is still the city in Europe where the things of the mind and of taste have most place, where the wheels of life run most smoothly and pleasantly, where the graces and refinements and amenities of social existence, l’art des plaisirs fins, are most highly developed and most widely diffused. There is something in the crisp, luminous air of Paris that quickens the intelligence and stimulates the senses. Even the scent of the wood fires as one emerges from the railway station exhilarates the spirit. The poet Heine used to declare that the traveller could estimate his proximity to Paris by noting the increasing intelligence of the people, and that the very bayonets of the soldiers were more intelligent than those elsewhere. Life, even in its more sensuous and material phases, is less gross and coarse,[4] its pleasures more refined than in London. It is impossible to conceive the pit of a London theatre stirred to fury by a misplaced adjective in a poetical drama, or to imagine anything comparable to the attitude of a Parisian audience at the cheap holiday performances at the Français or the Odéon, where the severe classic tragedies of Racine, of Corneille, of Victor Hugo, or the well-worn comedies of Molière or of Beaumarchais are played with small lure of stage upholstery, and listened to with close attention by a popular audience responsive to the exquisite rhythm and grace of phrasing, the delicate and restrained tragic pathos, and the subtle comedy of their great dramatists. To witness a première at the Français is an intellectual feast. The brilliant house; the pit and stalls filled with black-coated critics; the quick apprehension of the points and happy phrases; the universal and excited discussion between the acts; the atmosphere of keen and alert intelligence pervading the whole assembly; the quaint survival of the time-honoured “overture”—three knocks on the boards—dating back to Roman times when the Prologus of the comedy stepped forth and craved the attention of the audience by three taps of his wand; the chief actor’s approach to the front of the stage after the play is ended to announce to Mesdames and Messieurs what in these days they have known for weeks before from the press, that “the piece we have had the honour of playing” is by such a one—all combine to make an indelible impression on the mind of the foreign spectator.
The Parisian is the most orderly and well-behaved of citizens. The custom of the queue is a spontaneous expression of his love of fairness and order. Even the applause in theatres is organised. A spectacle such as that witnessed at the funeral of Victor Hugo in 1885, the most solemn and impressive of modern times, is inconceivable in London. The whole population (except the Faubourg St. Germain and the clergy) from the poorest labourer to the heads of the State issued forth to file past the coffin of their darling poet, lifted up under the Arc de Triomphe, and by their multitudinous presence honoured his remains borne on a poor bare hearse to their last resting-place in the Panthéon. Amid this vast crowd, mainly composed of labourers, mechanics and the petite bourgeoisie, assembled to do homage to the memory of the poet of democracy, scarcely an agent was seen; the people were their own police, and not a rough gesture, not a trace of disorder marred the sublime scene. The Parisian democracy is the most enlightened and the most advanced in Europe, and it is to Paris that the dearest hopes and deepest sympathies of generous spirits will ever go forth in
Of aspirations toward the far ideal, enthusiast dreams of brotherhood.”
It now remains for the writer to acknowledge his indebtedness to the following among other authorities, which are here enumerated to obviate the necessity for the use of repeated footnotes, and to indicate to readers who may desire to pursue the study of the history of Paris in more detail, some works among the enormous mass of literature on the subject that will repay perusal.
For the general history of France the monumental Histoire de France now in course of publication, edited by E. Lavisse; Michelet’s Histoire de France, Récits de l’Histoire de France, and Procès des Templiers; Victor Duruy, Histoire de France; Histoire de France racontée par les Contemporains, edited by B. Zeller; Carl Faulmann, Illustrirte Geschichte der Buchdruckerkunst; the Chronicles of Gregory of Tours, Richer, Abbo, Joinville, Villani, Froissart, Antonio Morosini; De Comines; Géographie Historique, by A. Guerard; Froude’s essay on the Templars; Jeanne d’Arc, Maid of Orleans, by T. Douglas Murray; Paris sous Philip le Bel, edited by H. Geraud.
For the later Monarchy, the Revolutionary and Napoleonic periods, the Histories of Carlyle, Mignet, Michelet and Louis Blanc; the Origines de la France Contemporaine, by Taine; the Cambridge Modern History, Vol. VIII.; the Memoirs of the Duc de St. Simon, of Madame Campan, Madame Vigée-Lebrun, of Camille Desmoulins, Madame Roland, Paul Louis Courier; the Journal de Perlet; Histoire de la Societé Française pendant la Revolution, by J. de Goncourt; Goethe’s Die Campagne in Frankreich, 1792; Légendes et Archives de la Bastille, by F. Funck Brentano; Life of Napoleon I., by J. Holland Rose; L’Europe et la Revolution Française by Albert Sorel; Contemporary American Opinion of the French Revolution, by C. D. Hazen. For the particular history of Paris, the exhaustive and comprehensive Histoire de la Ville de Paris, by the learned Benedictine priests, Michel Félibien and Guy Alexis Lobineau; the so-called Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris, edited by L. Lalanne; Paris Pendant la Domination Anglaise, by A. Longnon; the more modern Paris à Travers les Ages, by M. F. Hoffbauer, E. Fournier and others; the Topographie Historique du Vieux Paris, by A. Berty and H. Legrand. Howell’s Familiar Letters, Coryat’s Crudities, and Evelyn’s Diary, contain useful matter. For the
For personal help and information the writer desires to express his obligations to Monsieur Lafenestre, Director of the Louvre: Monsieur L. Bénédite, Director of the Luxembourg; Monsieur G. Redon, architect of the Louvre and the Tuileries; Professor A. Legros; and for help in proof-reading to Mr James Britten.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I PAGEGallo-Roman Paris
1
CHAPTER IIThe Barbarian Invasions—St. Genevieve—The Conversion of Clovis—The
Merovingian Dynasty
12
CHAPTER IIIThe Carlovingians—The Great Siege of Paris by the Normans—The Germs of
Feudalism
29
CHAPTER IVThe Rise of the Capetian Kings and the Growth of Paris
45
CHAPTER VParis under Philip Augustus and St. Louis
61
CHAPTER VIArt and Learning at Paris
79
CHAPTER VIIThe Parlement—The States-General—Conflict with Boniface VIII.—The
Destruction of the Knights-Templars
103
CHAPTER VIIIEtienne Marcel—The English Invasions—The Maillotins—Murder of the
Duke of Orleans—Armagnacs and Burgundians
117
CHAPTER IXJeanne d’Arc—Paris under the English—End of the English
Occupation
131
CHAPTER XLouis XI. at Paris—The Introduction of Printing
138
CHAPTER XIFrancis I.—The Renaissance at Paris
145
CHAPTER XIIRise of the Guises—Huguenot and Catholic—The Massacre of St.
Bartholomew
161
Henry III.—The League—Siege of Paris by Henry IV.—His Conversion,
Reign, and Assassination
175
CHAPTER XIVParis under Richelieu and Mazarin
192
CHAPTER XVThe Grand Monarque—Versailles and Paris
209
CHAPTER XVIParis under the Regency and Louis XV.—The Brooding Storm
227
CHAPTER XVIILouis XVI.—The Great Revolution—Fall of the Monarchy
243
CHAPTER XVIIIExecution of the King—Paris under the First Republic—The
Terror—Napoleon—Revolutionary and Modern Paris
259
CHAPTER XIXHistorical Paris—The Cité—The University Quarter—The Ville—The
Louvre—The Place de la Concorde—The Boulevards
281
CHAPTER XXThe Comédie Française—The Opera—Some Famous Cafés—Conclusion
321
Index: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
LIST OF COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONSBY O. F. M. WARD Rue St. Antoine Frontispiece Point du Jour facing page 5 Roman Baths in Musée de Cluny ”” 8 Bois de Boulogne—Lac Supérieur ”” 19 Rue St. Jacques ”” 23 St. Julien le Pauvre ”” 26 Port des Ormes ”” 37 L’institut de France ”” 44 Hotel Gerouilhac ”” 51 St. Etienne Du Mont and Tour de Clovis ”” 62 Vincennes ”” 68 Rue de Venise ”” 77 La Sainte Chapelle ”” 86 The Seine from Pont da la Concorde ”” 93 Le Petit Pont ”” 100 Ile de la Cité ”” 109 The Seine at Alfortville ”” 117 On the Quai des Grands Augustins ”” 124 Notre Dame from the North ”” 132 Porch of St. Germain l’Auxerrois ”” 141 Rue Royale ”” 146 Boulevard St. Michel ”” 155 Luxembourg Gardens ”” 165 The Louvre—Galerie d’Apollon ”” 172 St. Gervais
Thirteenth Century Sculptures from St. Denis (Restored)
”” 84
Our Lady of Paris. Early Fifteenth Century
”” 136
Portrait of Francis I. Jean Clouet
”” 150
Tritons and Nereids from the Old Fontaine des Innocents. Jean Goujon
”” 166
Portrait of Elizabeth of Austria, Wife of Charles IX. François Clouet
”” 168
Catherine de’ Medici. French School, Sixteenth Century
”” 176
Portion of the East Façade of the Louvre. From Blondel’s Drawing, showing Perrault’s Base. (Reproduced by permission of M. Lampue)
”” 220
Winged Victory of Samothrace
”” 302
St. George and the Dragon. Michel Colombe
”” 302
Cardinal Virtues. Germain Pilon
”” 304
Diana and the Stag. Jean Goujon (Photogravure)
”” 304
The Burning Bush. Nicolas Froment (Photogravure)
”” 306
Triptych of Moulins. Le Maître de Moulins
”” 308
Juvenal Des Ursins. Fouquet
”” 308
Shepherds of Arcady. Poussin
”” 310
A Seaport. Claude Lorrain
”” 312
Landing of Cleopatra at Tarsus. Claude Lorrain
”” 312
The Embarkation for the Island of Cythera Watteau
”” 314
Grace before Meat. Chardin
”” 316
Madame Récamier. David
”” 316
Landscape. Corot
”” 318
Lictors bringing to Brutus the bodies of his Sons. David
”” 320
The Pond. Rousseau
”” 322
The Binders. Millet
”” 324