Notre curé qui est mort était si bon, si humain que nous l'avons tous pleuré. En mourant il a désigné son neveu pour son successeur et l'on a voulu nous en donner un autre. Ce n'est pas juste, n'est-ce pas, madame la Reine? Les Marlin, voyez-vous, depuis bien longtemps, sont curés de Saint-Eustache, de père en fils, et les paroissiens n'en souffriront pas d'autre.
The curious argument advanced by the deputy in favour of Marlin no doubt amused the queen, and she promised to do what she could. But "Les Dames" would have no evasive answers; they wanted their curate and intended to have him; and so, on their return, chains were put across the streets, barricades were commenced, and the revolt waxed stronger. At this juncture, the archbishop gave way, and the nephew was installed amidst enthusiastic cries of Vive l'archevêque! Vive la reine! While upon the church some wag placarded a notice: Avis. Le curé de Saint-Eustache est à la nomination des Dames de la Halle.
This little tale seems to have been the origin of the romantic story trumped up in 1783, in which Marie Antoinette is said to have given a flower-girl her bracelet in recognition of some interview between them; which story was added to and amended later on, to the effect that the queen, upon her way to the guillotine, recognising the girl by her bracelet, betrayed her, and thus inadvertently caused her arrest and execution.
This Marlin was curate when Louis XIV. made his first communion at S. Eustache, that being his parish church at the time he was living in the Palais-Royal with his mother. Louis' last wife was also a parishioner of S. Eustache before her marriage with Scarron. As Frances d'Aubigné she seems to have been as much of a dévote as in her later days, for she arose at midnight, and attended matins at two of the clock. At that time she was in receipt of alms from a charitable lady of the parish, and her extraordinary career had scarcely commenced.
Funeral orations abounded at S. Eustache. In 1666 Anne of Austria was eulogised by a celebrated preacher, père Sénault, in no mild terms:—
Souffrez que je vous dise que si elle a vaincu la douleur et la mort, si elle a procuré la paix à l'Europe, si elle a heureusement gouverné l'Etat pendant sa régence, si elle a obtenu des enfants du Ciel, ce n'a été que parce qu'elle se confiait en Dieu et qu'elle l'a obligé de faire cent miracles en sa faveur parce qu'elle espérait en sa bonté, spera in eo et ipse faciet.
Ten years later a greater preacher, the eloquent Fléchier, was called upon to sing the praises of Turenne, all the world following in the train of the king to hear him:
Quelle matière fut jamais plus disposée à recevoir tous les ornements d'une grave et solide éloquence, que la vie et la mort de très-haut et très-puissant Prince Henri de la Tour d'Auvergne, vicomte de Turenne, maréchal général des camps et armées du roi et colonel général de la cavalerie légère? Où brillent avec plus d'éclat les effets glorieux de la vertu militaire: conduite d'armées, sièges de places, prises de villes, passages de rivières, attaques hardies, retraites honorables, campements bien ordonnés, combats soutenus, batailles gagnées, ennemis vaincus par la force, dissipés par l'adresse, lassés et consumés par une sage patience; où peut-on trouver tant et de si puissants exemples que dans les actions d'un homme sage, modeste, libéral, désintéressé, dévoué au service du prince et de la patrie, grand dans l'adversité par son courage, dans la prospérité par sa modestie, dans les difficultés par sa prudence, dans les périls par sa valeur, dans la religion par sa piété.
Yet another celebrated orator, Massillon, was often heard at S. Eustache, and in 1704, preaching upon the small number of the elect, so terrified were his hearers that they all rose as one man, when he pronounced the words of the Supreme Judge. A lesser man, who rose to be a Cardinal, perhaps more by intrigues than anything else, was Guillaume Dubois. He was born at Brives-la-Gaillarde in 1657, and coming to Paris, he entered, while still quite young, the service of the curé of S. Eustache. Thence he obtained engagements as tutor to the great personages of the neighbourhood; entering the house of the Duc de Chartres, he managed to obtain the abbey of Saint-Just, in the diocese of Beauvais. A grand monument by Coustou was erected to his memory in the church of S. Honoré, with an epitaph composed by Couture, which seems to be a slight satire upon the worldly-minded who love the rich things of this nether world. After giving the titles of the defunct, the lines go on: "Quid autem hi titulis nisi arcus coloratus et fumus ad modicum parens Viator, stabiliora, solidioraque bona mortuo apprecare, etc., etc. Mais que sont ces dignités? nuages brillants, fumée qui s'évapore. Passant, demande à Dieu pour ce mort des biens plus stables et plus solides."
S. Eustache is still famous for its processions, and few churches are so fitted for grand ceremonial; but what are the functions of to-day compared with those of the 18th century? Here is an extract from the archives giving an outline of the procession upon the Fête Dieu, 20th June, 1716, during the minority of Louis XV.:—
Several lacqueys bearing torches.
Footmen of M. le duc de Charot with lights at the top of their weapons.
Sixteen footmen of M. le Comte de Toulouse.
Six pages of my lord count.
The preceptor of the pages of M. the duc d'Orléans, the Regent, in long cassock and surplice; their tutor bearing a taper; twelve pages of His Royal Highness, and two sub-tutors.
The banner of the confraternity of the Holy Sacrament.
The cross of the clergy of S. Eustache.
An officer bearing a cushion for His Royal Highness.
The Suisses armed, carrying halbards upon their shoulders and torches in their hands, the officers at their head accompanied by drums and fifes.
The dais of the Holy Sacrament, borne by high personages.
The curé under the dais.
Monseigneur le duc d'Orléans carrying a taper, preceded by several officers of his house, and two chaplains in surplices.
An officer bearing a bouquet of His Royal Highness.
Forty of the body-guard, the councillor of Parliament, and the churchwardens.
A coach belonging to His Royal Highness, followed by eight guards on horseback.
The archers of the town bringing up the rear.
The watchmen of Paris arranged in a line from the church door to the Hôtel de Soissons, on both sides of the Rue Coquillière, with flags and officers at their head; drums to be beaten when His Royal Highness arrives at the church in his coach, and on his return.
In 1736 the reposoir[70] in the Palais-Royal was constructed from the design of Servandoni, the architect of S. Sulpice; and its importance attracted multitudes of curiosity-hunters from all parts of the town.
In 1729 Jean-François-Robert Secousse succeeded his uncle, and was the author of a pamphlet which he gave away to his parishioners entitled: Lettre d'un Curé à N—— au sujet des Spectacles. His successor, Jean-Jacques Poupart, was for some time confessor to Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette. When the storm arose, he took the oath to the Constitution; but, finding the lengths to which it carried him, he retracted, went into hiding, and administered to his flock in secret. During the early years of the Revolution, no church suffered more than S. Eustache. Situated in the midst of a populous district, it became the scene of untold horrors. But it was also the resting place for Mirabeau's body on its way to the Panthéon, on the 4th April, 1791; and had nothing worse than the funeral oration by Cerutti, pronounced from the banc-d'œuvre,[71] taken place, the sacrilege would have been but small. Trouble was looked for in the following May, when the hairdressers' assistants caused a service to be said for the great orator; but instead of the church being invaded by 10,000 persons, as was expected, a poor 600 were all that put in an appearance, and these were well conducted. Not so the Women's Club which was held in the building, if Lamartine's Histoire des Girondins[72] is to be trusted:
La société révolutionnaire siégeait á Saint-Eustache; elle était composée de femmes perdues, aventurières de leur sexe, recrutées dans le vice, où dans les réduits de la misère, ou dans les cabanons de la démence. Le scandale de leurs séances, le tumulte de leurs motions, la bizarrerie de leur éloquence, l'audace de leurs pétitions importuna le Comité de Salut Public, qui ferma le club. On peut juger par là ce qu'il devait en être de la pauvre église. Près de là siégeait aussi le fameux club de la rue Mauconseil.
Another club for women, founded by an actress named Lacombe, was dissolved after a speech of Robespierre's, in which we find that "Cette réunion de vraies sans-culottes ne saurait durer plus long-temps, parce qu'elle prête au ridicule et aux propos malins."
In 1793 the Feast of Reason was celebrated with as much profanity and indecency here as at Notre-Dame, as witness Mercier's account, told in the forcible language of Carlyle:
The corresponding festival in the church of S. Eustache offered the spectacle of a great tavern. The interior of the choir represented a landscape decorated with cottages and boskets of trees. Round the choir stood tables overloaded with bottles, with sausages, pork-puddings, pasties, and other meats. The guests flowed in and out through all doors; whosoever presented himself took part of the good things; children of eight, girls as well as boys, put hand to plate, in sign of Liberty; they drank also of the bottles, and their prompt intoxication created laughter. Reason sat in azure mantle aloft, in a serene manner; cannoneers, pipe in mouth, serving her as acolytes. And out of doors (continues the exaggerative man) were mad multitudes dancing round the bonfire of chapel-balustrades, of priests' and canons' stalls; and the dancers—I exaggerate nothing—the dancers nigh bare of breeches, neck and breast naked, stockings down, went whirling and spinning, like those Dust-vortexes, forerunners of Tempest and Destruction.[73]
S. Eustache was re-opened for divine service sooner than many of the other churches, M. Poupart coming out of his hiding in June, 1795; but he had to share his church for some time with the philanthropists and the municipal councillors, who held their meetings there upon certain days. And the church was, moreover, but four walls and a roof; nearly all the contents had vanished. The altars, the bronze statues, the pulpit, the pictures, the tombs, the slabs and epitaphs, all but the banc-d'œuvre, had gone to the museum of the Petits-Augustins; happily, for otherwise they would have gone into the fire.
In 1804, Pius VII., dragged to Paris by Napoleon to perform the coronation ceremony, was invited to visit S. Eustache and bless a statue of the Blessed Virgin; which he did with "une bonté paternelle." The occasion naturally called forth all the ceremonial of which the church was capable: Suisses (beadles), vergers, MM. les maires, and MM. les marguilliers, magistrates, juges de paix, clergy, M. le curé Bossic, and his eminence the cardinal archbishop. His Holiness was received at the church door by the archbishop, M. de Belloy, and divers other bishops and dignitaries of church and state; who had to submit to hearing a Latin oration by the curé. The music was brilliantly executed by a large choir, and the ceremonial of an imposing character; peculiarly touching was the moment when the archbishop, an old man of ninety-six, who had to be supported by two prelates, mounted the steps of the altar, and presented the linen cloth to his Holiness for wiping his hands. After mass a reception took place in one of the chapels, and a number of the faithful had the honour of "kissing the papal slipper," says the account of the ceremony signed by a number of the dignitaries present.
Among the celebrities buried in the church or the burial-ground hard by are the following: Bernard de Girard, Seigneur du Haillan, historian, who died in 1610; Marie Jars de Gournay, the adopted daughter of Montaigne, and the editress of his essays; Vincent Voiture, poet and wit, who died in 1650; the Academician François de la Motte-le-Vayer; the poet Isaac Benserade; another Academician Furetière; the graceful music-maker, Rameau; the painter, Lafosse; a superintendent of finance, Claude de Bullion (a curiously appropriate name); Phélippeau, duke of la Vrillière; the chancellor d'Amenonville; a peer and marshal, François d'Aubusson de la Feuillade, who worshipped his king, the fourteenth Louis, and elevated a wondrous monument to his glory, the prancing steed and man in the Place des Victoires; and a medicine man of the same king a member, too, of the Academy, Martin Cureau de la Chambre, aged seventy-five when he died in 1669. The physician is said to have been the consulter-general of the king, and they carried on a secret correspondence, in which the former thought that the sovereign would "court grand risque de faire à l'avenir de mauvais choix de ministres," if he survived Cureau. The last curate buried in the church was Poupart, in 1796.
What is now the market of S. Joseph was formerly the burial-ground dedicated to that Saint. It belonged to the parish of S. Eustache, and in 1630 Chancellor Séguier built a chapel therein at his own expense. Here Molière and La Fontaine were buried, but the monuments were carried off to the museum of the Petits-Augustins, where they remained until 1818, when they were re-erected at Père-la-Chaise. Molière was also born in the parish, at a house, since pulled down, which occupied the site of the corner of the rue St. Honoré and the rue du Pont Neuf, formerly de la Tonnellerie.
The following epitaphs used to be in the church, and are interesting; the two first for their quaintness; the last as a record of an architect of S. Eustache, if not the original builder:
BARTHÉLÉMI TREMBLET, SCULPTEUR DU ROY, DÉCÉDÉ A L'AGE
DE 61 ANS, EN 1629.
S. Eustache has suffered much of late years by fire and the doings of wicked men. In 1844 fire attacked the organ, and smoke and water destroyed a great portion of the church. L'abbé Duguerry, who was shot in 1871 by the Communists, was curé at the time of the conflagration; and in order to rebuild the organ, he instituted a lottery, and appealed for aid to the whole country. Ten years later the new organ was built, and inaugurated under a new curé, Gaudereau, Duguerry having been appointed to the Madeleine. It was an exquisite instrument, of delicious tone and with a large number of stops. But alas! during the Commune it suffered again, several bombs having exploded in the church. Glass was smashed, organ pipes pierced, and a great deal of damage done to the roof; and it was several years before the church was restored to its pristine beauty. In 1879 the organ was finished, having been reconstructed and very much enlarged by J. Merklin, under a committee of organists and musicians; other instruments may be larger, but few are so beautiful in tone. Several of the Paris organs are fine, and the French school of organists is of all the least conventional. One is not bored by Rinck and his fellows; one does not hear choruses by Handel intended to be sung, or solos by the same master upon flute and clarionet stops with a poor tum-tum accompaniment, or sonatas written for the pianoforte or violin. That, to some of us, peculiarly irritating form of composition, the fugue, is rarely heard (except at the Madeleine), and Batiste, I think, must have held them in holy horror as did Berlioz, and, was it Chopin? Many a time for years I heard Batiste "touch" the S. Eustache organ, and surely no more divine sounds (if organ notes can be divine?) have ever been drawn from an instrument than when he played some soft, tender, pathetic melody upon the voix céleste or vox humana with accompaniment upon the far-off stops and tremolo; it was, in effect, what one might conceive a chorus of Angels accompanying some beautiful human voice. I know all the principal Paris organs, and most of them have been played upon by distinguished musicians; I also heard Lefebure-Wély frequently in former days; but no one seemed to equal or to excel Batiste in taste. His soft passages were perfection; and when he made the instrument thunder forth in all its fortissimo, it was grand in the extreme. Such an admiration had I for the musician, that I looked upon him as an invisible master, and my enthusiasm led me one day to waylay him as he came down the stairs. Query, if one admires an artist or an author, a poet or a musician, is it wise to see him in the flesh? Some painters and pianists, some violinists or singers, have been appropriately built, so to speak. Nature, sometimes unassisted, more often aided and pruned, has turned out bodies which are fitted to become the cases of distinguished minds. But everyone knows instances of actors and actresses who are nought minus their war-paint; of painters who might be grocers, and of poets as un-ideal in appearance as any publican or butterman. On the other hand, there are exquisites behind the counters, ethereal-looking butchers, and poetic vendors of cooked ham and beef. It is as if nature had made a number of bodies and minds, and shuffling them like a pack of cards, had tossed them together without any thought or heeding. Such seemed to have been the case with Batiste, for he was the exact model of the French Mossoo so dear to Punch—the Mossoo one so rarely sees out of that sportive periodical. Nevertheless, the soul within that commonplace body was able to peal forth in most sublime sounds which touched the hearts of all who heard them. Batiste's was essentially emotional playing of the highest order. Never shall I forget the thrill which went through the crowd when he played Chopin's "Funeral March" at the funeral of the dear old curé, l'abbé Simon—the very type of the courteous, fine-gentleman priests of other days, without their vices. When, years ago, the abbé Simon and Duguerry his friend, sat side by side, their finely chiselled features and longish hair, their elegant manner, and courteous bearing, reminded one of the portraits of Fléchier, Massillon and Bossuet.
It may interest musicians to know the composition of the S. Eustache organ, and as many of the stops are French, I may as well give them in their original names. It has four manuals, and 72 stops; 4356 pipes and 20 pedals.
| Grand Orgue | 54 | notes, | 16 | stops. |
| Positif | 54 | " | 14 | " |
| Récit expressif | 54 | " | 16 | " |
| Clavier Bombarde | 54 | " | 11 | " |
| Pédales | 30 | " | 15 | " |
| TOTAL | 72 |
| 1ST MANUAL.—GREAT ORGAN. | |||
| ft. | ft. | ||
| 1 Montre | 16 | 10 Nasard | 2 |
| 2 Montre | 8 | 11 Doublette | 2 |
| 3 Flûte à pavilion | 8 | COMBINATION STOPS. | |
| 4 Bourdon | 8 | 12 Furniture et Cymbale | 3 |
| 5 Flûte harmonique | 8 | 13 Cornet | 8 |
| 6 Viole de Gambe | 8 | 14 Trompette | 8 |
| 7 Gemshorn | 8 | 15 Clarinette | 8 |
| 8 Rohrflûte | 4 | 16 Clairon | 4 |
| 9 Prestant | 4 | ||
| 2ND MANUAL.—CHOIR ORGAN. | |||
| ft. | ft. | ||
| 1 Montre | 8 | 9 Clochette | 1 |
| 2 Bourdon | 8 | COMBINATION STOPS. | |
| 3 Keraulophone | 8 | 10 Plein jeu | 2 |
| 4 Flûte harmonique | 8 | 11 Clarinette | 16 |
| 5 Bourdon | 16 | 12 Cromhorn | 8 |
| 6 Flûte harmonique | 4 | 13 Trompette | 8 |
| 7 Fugara | 4 | 14 Clairon | 4 |
| 8 Doublette | 2 | ||
| 3RD MANUAL.—SWELL ORGAN. | |||
| SOLO STOPS. | |||
| ft. | ft. | ||
| 1 Viole de Gambe | 8 | 9 Trompette harmonique. | 8 |
| 2 Voix céleste | 8 | 10 Clairon | 4 |
| 3 Bourdon | 8 | JEUX DE FOND. | |
| 4 Piccolo | 1 | 11 Bourdon | 16 |
| 5 Basson-Hautbois | 8 | 12 Principal | 8 |
| 6 Voix humaine | 8 | 13 Flûte harmonique | 8 |
| COMBINATION STOPS. | 14 Flûte octaviante | 4 | |
| 7 Cornet | 8 | 15 Prestant | 4 |
| 8 Trombone | 16 | 16 Flageolet | 2 |
| 4TH MANUAL.—SOLO ORGAN. | |||
| ft. | COMBINATION STOPS. | ||
| 1 Bourdon | 16 | ft. | |
| 2 Gambe | 16 | 7 Cornet | 16 |
| 3 Gambe | 8 | 8 Bombarde | 16 |
| 4 Salicional | 8 | 9 Trompette | 8 |
| 5º Quintaton | 8 | 10 Cor anglais | 8 |
| 6º Dulciana | 4 | 11 Clairon | 4 |
| PEDALS. | |||
| ft. | ft. | ||
| 1 Principal | 32 | 9 Flûte | 4 |
| 2 Flûte | 16 | COMBINATION STOPS. | |
| 3 Sous-Basse | 16 | 10 Bombarde | 32 |
| 4 Contrebasse | 16 | 11 Bombarde | 16 |
| 5 Grosse Flûte | 8 | 12 Basson | 16 |
| 6 Quinte | 12 | 13 Basson | 8 |
| 7º Violoncelle | 8 | 14 Trompette | 8 |
| 8º Bourdon | 8 | 15 Clairon | 4 |
| COMBINATION STOPS FOR THE SWELL. | |||
| SOLO | ANCHES | FONDS | |
| TREMOLO | TREMOLO | TREMOLO | |
| COMBINATION PEDALS. | |
| 1 | Tonnerre. |
| 2 | Tirasse du 1er clavier sur le pédalier. |
| 3 | Tirasse du 2me clavier sur le pédalier. |
| 4 | Tirasse du 3me clavier sur le pédalier. |
| 5 | Tirasse du 4me clavier sur le pédalier. |
| 6 | Réunion du mécanisme des jeux du 1er clavier sur le levier pneumatique. |
| 7 | Accouplement du 2me clavier sur le 1er. |
| 8 | Accouplement du 3me clavier sur le 1er, à l'unisson. |
| 9 | Accouplement du 4me clavier sur le 1er. |
| 10 | Accouplement du 4me clavier sur le 3me. |
| 11 | Accouplement du 3me clavier à l'octave grave sur le 1er clavier. |
| 12 | Forte général. |
| 13 | Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du pédalier. |
| 14 | Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du 1er clavier. |
| 15 | Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du 2me clavier. |
| 16 | Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du 4me clavier. |
| 17 | Expression sur le 3me clavier récit. |
No one should omit visiting S. Eustache on S. Cecilia's day (November 22), when a grand mass is always performed, with full orchestra, in aid of the Society of Musicians; and indeed, any Sunday the music is quite well worth hearing, and the ceremonial is the finest in Paris. At the same time much has been lost by the substitution of the Roman for the Parisian rite, which took place in 1876. In the former, two acolytes swing the censers; in the latter, four or six acolytes standing in a row threw them up on high six times, the last time catching them while kneeling on one knee. As has been said, the grand effect of this use can never be forgotten by those who saw it.
The church owes the new marble pavement to its good curé l'abbé Simon, one of the heroes of the Commune, and, almost, one of its victims. So much has been related (and with justice) against the Communards, that an incident connected with S. Eustache ought not to be forgotten. The day the abbé Simon was arrested he had three thousand francs in his pocket, which were destined to pay for the pavement of the choir. Of course upon his arrival at the prison they were given up to the police, and were not restored when the curé was released through the intervention of his chères paroissiennes, les Dames de la Halle, who went en masse to demand his freedom. On Easter Monday, however, Raoul Rigault's secretary went to the sacristry, asked M. Simon if the money had been returned, and finding that it had not, he left the church, to return in an hour's time, with the three thousand francs intact.
In the south transept is a little Gothic statue of S. John, and on the wall is a sad memorial of the names of all the hostages who suffered death under the Commune, headed by the archbishop (Darboy) and the curé of the Madeleine, Duguerry, who was formerly curé of S. Eustache.
S. Eustache, like most large churches, looks grandest in the evening, when the altar is ablaze with lights, and long vistas fade away into the darkness; but under all conditions it is a splendid church, a mass of harmonious colouring from floor to ceiling. At the evening services during Lent, it is seen to advantage; or again on Christmas Day at vespers, when it is resplendent with lights; those curious and unchurchlike glass chandeliers filled with candles, and clusters of gas jets round the walls.
Another great day is Good Friday, when Rossini's "Stabat Mater" is performed. It is always beautifully rendered, but for three-fourths of the crowd which assembles—and the church is always crammed—for most of the people it is a mere performance. So is the midnight mass on Christmas Day. Religious enthusiasm carries one away upon one or two occasions; the sentiment is exquisite; the emotions which are aroused are of the purest, and we feel almost that we are by the veritable manger listening to the heavenly Host: "Glory to God in the Highest." But alas! human beings are but mortal; and so upon experience we find that the crowds who attend the mass do so mainly as a pastime before the réveillon; that is the function of the night; eating and drinking, junkettings and merrymakings; and just a little church-going to fill up the time until the hour of feasting commences. Cardinal Manning in his wisdom saw this many years ago, and stopped the practice of saying midnight mass, a measure he probably regretted as much as any of us; for apart from its being a very ancient custom, it is a most poetic idea, appealing strongly to our best emotions and our most vivid imagination.
Until quite lately, the only church in Paris dedicated to the memory of the great Jesuit was the little chapel belonging to the Missions Étrangères in the Rue de Bac. The first stone was laid in 1683 by the archbishop of Paris, in the name of the king. It is a double chapel with a flight of steps leading from the lower to the upper church.
As we walk up the Rue Soufflot and see the great domed Panthéon facing us in its Classic glory, it is difficult to realise that the space occupied by the modern building is but a small portion of what was formerly the domain of the important abbey of S. Geneviève belonging to the Augustinian canons. When the religious orders were suppressed in France, Paris contained nine abbeys: S. Geneviève, S. Victor, belonging to the Augustins; S. Germain des Prés to the Benedictines; Val des Grâce to the nuns of S. Benedict; Port-Royal, Pantemont, l'Abbaye aux Bois, and S. Antoine to the Cistercian nuns; and the Cordelières to the order of the Poor Clares. An inspection of a pre-Revolution map of the city shows us that a large part of it was swallowed up by these abbeys and other monastic lands and properties.
SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE FROM THE RUE SOUFFLOT.
SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE FROM THE RUE SOUFFLOT.
The foundation of the abbey of S. Geneviève was due to the desire of Clovis to celebrate his victory over the Visigoths in the plains of Vouillè. Having overrun a great part of Gaul, and annexed it to the kingdom of the Franks, what was more natural than that he should offer his thanks for robbery, violence, and slaughter, by the building of a church upon the hill overshadowing his Palais des Thermes? He dedicated it to S. Peter and S. Paul, and put it under the charge of some monks who were succeeded later on by secular canons, and eventually in the 12th century, by regular canons of S. Augustin. Clovis died ere the church was terminated, but Queen Clotilde was able to carry the work on, and it became the resting place of both sovereigns, as well as of the children of Clodomir, who were done to death by their loving relatives after the manner of some modern Africans. In the 11th century, the church was put under the patronage of S. Geneviève in consequence of the numberless miracles performed at her tomb, for the maid of Nanterre had been laid to rest in this church. The legend of S. Geneviève is picturesque in the extreme, affording endless subjects for the artist, as witness the wall paintings in the modern church. Born in 421 at Nanterre, a little village situated upon the plain over which the fort of Mt. Valérien now frowns, she was employed, as are many of her compatriots of the present day, in tending sheep. A graceful, if somewhat affected picture by Guérin, represents her with a distaff in her hands. When about seven years old, S. Germain, bishop of Auxerre, passed through Nanterre on his way to Britain. A crowd assembled to receive the good bishop's blessing, and among them were S. Geneviève and her parents. La pucelette was already famed for her piety and humility, and S Germain, wise man, had no sooner cast his eyes upon her than he became aware of her future glory; and finding that she desired to be a handmaiden of Christ, he hung round her neck a small coin marked with the symbol of the cross, thus consecrating her to God's service. Many were the miracles which she wrought by prayer, even in her childhood; as for instance, when her mother, being struck blind for boxing her little Saintship's ears, recovered her sight through the prayers of the daughter. Some say that Geneviève prayed for her hasty parent after a year and nine months had elapsed; but surely it is better to believe that the prayers were unanswered for that length of time, than that the daughter, whose intercession was so efficacious, should have omitted to help her mother for so many months.
At fifteen, Geneviève renewed her vows, but remained with her parents until their death. She then took up her abode with an old kinswoman in Paris, where, from her piety and devotion, she became the subject of disputes between those who venerated her as a saint, and others who considered her sanctity and benevolence mere hypocrisy and sham piety. And so it came about that at night, when she kept her vigils, the arch enemy, not content with putting into the hearts of men the desire to slander and vilify the godly maiden, set himself to worry her, by extinguishing her candle. But she had a tinder-box in her faith and prayer, and so she was never left in darkness. This is a favourite subject of the old artists; one frequently sees the Saint holding her taper, while a demon is blowing it out, sometimes using a pair of bellows, as at the doorway of S. Germain l'Auxerrois, S. Nicholas, and other French churches; and it is obvious that the legend grew out of the promise that God never leaves those in darkness who pray for light. So, too, the holding up of the re-kindled taper in the face of the fiend, and his consequent flight, symbolises the Light of the World chasing away evil. Another legend relates that when a storm overtook her and some friends on their way to S. Denis, and blew out their tapers, an Angel descended to relight them in answer to Geneviève's prayers.
The Saint was a sort of early Jeanne d'Arc, inasmuch as she delivered the city from its enemies; but Geneviève depended only upon her prayers; and yet, simply by these means, she caused the Huns, who were besieging Paris under Attila, to flee. On another occasion, when the city was invested by Childéric, she took command of some boats which were sent up the river to Troyes for succour, and brought them back laden with provisions. When the city was taken, Geneviève was treated with great respect by Childéric, and it was through her influence that Clovis and his wife, Clotilde, were converted to Christianity, and the first Christian church was erected in Paris.[74] Geneviève died at the ripe old age of eighty-nine, and was buried in what was then called the church of SS. Peter and Paul; and it was in consequence of her miracle-working tomb that the patronage of the church was given over to her, the Apostles falling into complete oblivion. Among these miracles was a cessation of a terrible visitation of the plague called the mal ardent, which raged in Paris in the reign of Louis le Gros; hence the dedication of a church to S. Geneviève-des-Ardents, situated near the cathedral, and long since destroyed.
Most painters of modern times have depicted the Saint as a shepherdess, somewhat after the Chelsea china pattern, and a few have given her the suggestiveness of the nymphs of Boucher. Watteau's is a charming picture, but the graceful maiden scarcely comes up to our ideal of the pious little peasant girl of Nanterre. Guérin's is pure and refined, if somewhat affected, but one feels inclined to hail our old friend with the fiend behind her puffing or blowing the bellows as a more worthy reading of the character of S. Geneviève. In the church of S. Merri there is a very curious picture representing the maid surrounded by her sheep, and enclosed by a circle of huge stones after the manner of those at Stonehenge.
The legend of feeding the besieged Parisians is said to be the origin of the pain bénit of the Paris churches, a custom peculiar to the old Parisian rite, and almost the only one kept up since that use was superseded by the Roman, some few years since. This blessed bread is a large brioche offered by some of the parishioners, and brought into church in procession during the offertory. It is usually piled up on a stage and decorated with flowers and lights, the whole being carried on the shoulders of acolytes. Preceded by the beadle and donor, it is taken to the altar and sprinkled with holy water; some prayers are said, the donor is presented with a pax to kiss, and the procession then returns to the sacristy, where the bread is cut up and put into baskets, which are then carried round the church, and the brioche distributed among the congregation. One often sees strangers refuse this, thinking it something peculiarly popish; indeed, I was once assured by a friend that he had been offered the Sacrament, "which of course he had refused." But we may be certain that if the pain bénit were considered so exceedingly holy, promiscuous strangers would not get the chance of partaking of it. It rather figures a sort of amicable meal after the manner of the early Agapæ, and is a very pretty ceremony; besides, it is always refreshing to witness any little peculiarity in ritual, instead of the dull uniformity which recent papal decrees have enforced over western Europe.
In the 9th century S. Geneviève became the patron of the abbey; and some of the capitals of the church of that period are now in the court of the École de Beaux-Arts. In the 13th century the church was rebuilt, but gradually falling into decay, it was condemned in the reign of Louis XV., and demolished in 1801-7 to make way for the Rue Clovis. When the crypt was destroyed a large quantity of stone coffins, medals, pottery, shields and lances of Gallo-Roman and Mérovingian workmanship were found.
The early capitals mentioned above are rude in treatment, and the personages, Adam and Eve, and other Old Testament worthies, are coarse, but the scraps of ornament are quaint, and the carving of the foliage is vastly superior to that of the figures. The crypt of the church was the largest of any in Paris, and being the burial place of so many holy and regal persons, was interesting in the extreme; but to the men of the 18th century what mattered it that 13th century work should be swept away? The street was required as a short cut, a deviation of five minutes more or less had to be rectified; and so all that remains of the abbey church is its tower. But from the ruins many precious fragments were saved. The stone coffin of S. Geneviève was carried off to S. Étienne hard by, and there enveloped in a gorgeous shrine; which, besides being a work of art, had the advantage of being portative, and so could be marched about when processioning was resorted to as a remedy for city troubles. In the Statistique Monumentale de Paris, published by Albert Lenoir, may be seen some plates representing this motley crew of fragments. Portions of stone coffins, sculptured with crosses and monograms, were sent to the museum of the Petits-Augustins, but do not seem to have survived the dissolution of the collection; they were similar to those at the Hôtels de Cluny and Carnavalet.
The reliquary of the Saint was in the form of a church, and was executed by order of the abbot, Robert de la Ferté-Milon, in 1242. The craftsman was one of the most cunning goldsmiths of the city, Bonnard. It contained 193 marks of silver and 7-1/2 marks of gold; and kings, queens, and commoners vied with each other to cover it with precious stones. Marie de' Medici crowned the front with a mass of diamonds; and Germain Pilon was engaged to sculp a group of four women standing upon a marble pedestal to support the châsse. This graceful work of art was all that was saved in 1793: being of wood it was of little value to a starving and poverty-stricken mob. Or, had the municipality any reverence for it as an art treasure? Certain it is that, whereas the reliquary was melted up into coin, and the jewels sold, the part which was really the most precious was saved, and is now in the Renaissance Museum of the Louvre. But in spite of the value and beauty of the châsse, the Conventionel Grégoire, in his report, gives 21,000 livres only as the sum obtained by its destruction.
Some of the monuments of the church were saved; that of the Cardinal François de la Rochefoucault, abbot of S. Geneviève, and High Almoner of France, who died in 1645, sculptured by Philippe Buister, being placed in the chapel of the Hospital for Incurable Women, of which he was the founder. The statue of Clovis, renewed in the 12th century, is now at S. Denis, owing to the accident of its having been replaced in the 17th century by a superior one in white marble, which was destroyed in 1793.[75] Another tomb, that of a chancellor of Notre-Dame de Noyon, who died in 1350, is now in the École des Beaux-Arts. The monument of René Descartes was less fortunate, for, after having been transferred to the museum of the Petits-Augustins, it was dismembered, and dispersed or destroyed; but the remains of the great philosopher were re-buried at S. Germain des Prés.
Some of the conventual buildings remain and form part of the Lycée Henri IV. The tower is Romanesque at the base and pointed at the upper stories—14th and 15th century respectively. The cloisters and refectory form part of the school buildings, but they have been much modernized. The latter is an elegant structure of the 13th century, and now serves as the school chapel. In the sacristry is a large stone statue of the patroness (13th century) which formerly formed part of the central pillar of the principal doorway of the abbey church; it represents her with a demon on one shoulder blowing out her candle, and an Angel on the other relighting it. What was formerly the library is a series of galleries upon the plan of a cross, with a cupola at the intersections. It is no longer used for this purpose, all the books having been placed in the new building on the other side of the square.
"Contiguous to the Sorbonne church there stands, raising its neatly-constructed dome aloft in air, the Nouvelle Eglise Ste. Geneviève, better known by the name of the Panthéon. The interior presents, to my eye, the most beautiful and perfect specimen of Grecian architecture with which I am acquainted. In the crypt are the tombs of the French warriors. From the gallery running along the bottom of the dome, the whole a miniature representation of our S. Paul's, you have a sort of panorama of Paris, but not a favourable one. The absence of sea-coal fume strikes you very agreeably, but I could not help thinking of the superior beauty of the panorama of Rouen from the heights of St. Catherine."[76] This "perfect specimen of Grecian architecture" owes its birth, it is said, to Madame de Pompadour; and if this be so, it must have been one of the last of that lady's contributions to art, as she died in April, 1764, the foundation stone being laid in the following September. It is curious how artistic the French kings' handmaidens were, and, with the exception of the daughters of the house of Medici, how little we owe to the queens in the way of fine works of art. Whether this particular handmaiden obliged the king to decide upon the rebuilding of the old church, which had been tumbling into decay for a long period, or whether it was the king's fright lest he should fall ill again if he did not propitiate the Saint who had cured him of a sinking fever, it is impossible to decide. Very likely it was the king's own fears. He had all but died at Metz; he had appealed to the patroness of Paris; she had answered his prayers, somewhat unwisely perhaps, in the interest of his hapless subjects; and in sheer gratitude, thus proving himself far more honest than many a holier and more godly man, he decided that the much-talked-of church should be set going, and that it should be worthy of the maid of Nanterre. And so it is. Soufflot was the architect, and his design is one of the happiest of its class. But what a strange life the church has had! And what an extraordinary jumble of Christianity and philosophy the great dome has witnessed! Emblems of the Roman Republic and the religion of Christ stand side-by-side. Cardinals repose in the crypt by the side of Voltaire and Jean-Jacques. At one time masses are said for the repose of the souls of defunct Christians; at another, funeral allocutions are delivered by laymen. And the chopping and changing about! Scarcely finished in 1791, the Constitutional Assembly decreed that the new church should become a Temple of Fame, and be known as the Panthéon. The cross was taken down from the summit of the dome, the inscription, Aux grands hommes, la Patrie reconnaissante, was substituted for D.O.M. Sub invocatione sanctae Genovefae sacrum; and under the peristyle was written: Panthéon français, l'an III. de la Liberté. The words of the report issued, describing the changes to be adopted in the building, are in the accustomed grandiloquent language of the First Republic: ... "en un moment où tout doit contribuer à renforcer dans l'ame des citoyens toutes les sensations que l'enthousiasme de la liberté fait puiser dans l'amour de la Patrie, &c." Mirabeau, Marat, and Lepelletier Saint-Fargeau were laid to rest in the crypt.