by Grant Allen
All the other objects in this room should be carefully examined, and their place of origin noted. The symbols and the frequent Oriental tinge should also be observed. Likewise, the absence of several ideas and symbols which come in later. Note that there are no crucifixions, sufferings, or martyrdoms; the tone is joyous. Many of the minor objects have their own value. Thus, the fish, by the entrance door, is a common Early Christian symbol, because the Greek word ΙΧΘΥΣ [Greek: ICHTHYS] formed the initials of the sentence, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, the Saviour”; and its sacred significance is here still further emphasised by the superimposed cross — a symbol, however, which does not belong to the very earliest ages of Christendom. So, on the opposite wall of the window, notice the little Daniel in the Den of Lions, and the youthful beardless Christ with a halo. The longer you study these interesting remains, the more will you see in them.
Those who have had their interest aroused in Early Christian art from the examination of this room will find the subject best pursued at Rome (Catacombs and Lateran) and Ravenna, where we can trace the long decline from classical freedom to Byzantine stiffness and Gothic barbarism, as well as the slow upward movement from the depths of the early Romanesque style to the precursors of the Renaissance. For the chronological pursuit of this enticing subject the best order of visiting is Rome, Ravenna, Bologna, Pisa, Siena, Florence. For a list of the extensive literature of the subject, see Dean Farrar’s Christ in Art.
IV. THE NORTH BANK (RIVE DROITE)
[PARIS, north of the river, — which is for most purposes the practical Paris of business and pleasure (and of the ordinary tourist) at the present day — has grown by slow degrees from small beginnings. The various rings of its growth are roughly marked on the Map of Historical Paris. The wall of Philippe Auguste started from near the easternmost end of the existing Louvre, and, after bending inland so as just to enclose the Halles Centrales, reached the river again near the upper end of the Île St. Louis. It thus encircled the district immediately opposite the primitive islands: and this innermost region, the Core of the Right Bank, still contains most of the older buildings and places of interest N. of the river. Étienne Marcel’s walls took a slightly wider sweep, as shown on the Map; and by the time of Louis XIII. the town had reached the limit of the Great Boulevards, which, with their southern prolongation, still enclose almost everything of historical or artistic interest in modern Paris. The fact that the kings had all their palaces in this northern district was partly a cause, partly perhaps an effect, of its rapid predominance. The town was now spreading mainly northward.
The increase of the royal power brought about by Richelieu, and the consequent stability and internal peace of the kingdom, combined with the complete change in methods of defence which culminated in Vauban, enabled Louis XIV to pull down the walls of Paris altogether, and to lay out the space covered by his predecessor’s fortifications in that series of broad curved avenues which still bears from this circumstance the name of Boulevards (“bulwarks” or ramparts). The original line so named, from the Bastille to the Madeleine, is ordinarily spoken of to this day simply as “the Boulevard.” All the others called by the same have borrowed the title, mostly at a very recent date, from this older girdle. Gradually, the Faubourgs which gathered beyond the line of the inner city, as well as beyond the artificial southern prolongation of the Boulevards by which Louis continued his circle, with true French thoroughness of system, on the southern bank, have entirely coalesced with the central town, and at last enormously outgrown it. Nevertheless, to the end, the Paris of Louis XIV continues to enclose almost all that is vital in the existing city. Especially is Paris within the Great Boulevards to this day the Paris of business and finance: it includes the Bourse, the Banque de France, the Bourse de Commerce, the chief markets, the Post Office, the Ministries of Finance, Marine, and Justice, the Hôtel de Ville, numerous Government Offices, the principal wholesale warehouses, financial firms, and agencies, and almost all the best shops, hotels, banks, and business houses.
Even the inner circle itself, again, within the Boulevards, has been largely transformed by modern alterations, especially in that extensive reorganisation of the city inaugurated under Napoleon III by Baron Haussmann. In the brief itinerary which follows, and in which I have endeavoured to give the reader in two short walks or drives some general idea of the development of the Right Bank, with its chief points of interest, I shall indicate roughly the various ages of the great thoroughfares, and note with needful conciseness the causes which at various times led to their construction.]
A. THE CORE OF THE RIGHT BANK
Start from the Place de la Concorde, and walk eastward along the Rue de Rivoli, in the direction of the Louvre. (If you like, the top of an omnibus will suffice as far as the Hôtel de Ville.) The Place de la Concorde itself, though old in essence, is, in its present form, quite a modern creation, having been laid out in 1854 under the Second Empire, when it was decorated with the 8 seated stone figures, wearing mural crowns, and representing the chief cities of France (including Strasbourg). The Luxor obelisk (age of Rameses II) was erected in the Place, in its simpler form, by Louis Philippe, in 1836. The two handsome large buildings on the N side are still earlier in date, age of Louis XV: one of them is occupied by the Ministère de la Marine — that nearest the Tuileries.
Proceed along the Rue de Rivoli, driven through this part of Paris by Napoleon I. He was a Corsican, and admired his native Italian arcaded streets, which he transplanted to Paris in this thoroughfare, and in the Rues Castiglione, and des Pyramides, all of which commemorate his victories. The form, however, is ill-adapted to the North, being draughty and sunless: and Frenchmen have never cared for the Rue de Rivoli, which is the street of strangers and especially of Englishmen. The native Parisian has always preferred to sun himself on the Boulevards. To your R are the Gardens of the Tuileries, still much as they were laid out under Louis XIV by Le Nôtre, in the formal style which well accorded with that artificial epoch. They contrast markedly with the newer portion, further E, on the site of the Palace, laid out by the present Republic in something like the English manner.
L, as you proceed, lies the Rue Castiglione, another of Napoleon’s arcaded streets, leading up to the Place and Colonne Vendôme. R, a little further on, you come abreast of the Louvre, the first Pavillon being part of the connecting wing of the Tuileries. L, the Rue des Pyramides, again Napoleonic: and further L, opens up the Place du Palais Royal, with the façade of the Palace showing behind it. This part, marked Conseil d’Etat, is the original building (much restored and rebuilt): it was erected by Richelieu for his own occupation, and bore at first the name of Palais-Cardinal. Occupied after his death by the widow of Louis XIII, it took its present name: and was later the residence of the notorious Regent, Philippe d’Orléans, and of his scheming grandson, Philippe Égalité. The garden behind, with an arcade of shops, now half deserted and uninteresting, which also bears the name of Palais Royal (almost to the exclusion of the original building) was laid out and let in this curious way by the Regent, as a commercial speculation. As a relic of the past, it is worth ten minutes’ visit, some time in passing.
Continue along the Rue de Rivoli, eastward, till you reach the Rue du Louvre. So far, you have been passing through the Paris of Louis XIII, Louis XIV, and the Empire; but now you are abreast with the wall of Philippe Auguste, and enter the Core of the Right Bank. Old as this part is, however, by origin, few of its buildings are mediæval; almost everything has been re-made in the Renaissance period. To your R lies the site of the old château of the Louvre, and opposite it, the mediæval Church of St. Germain l’Auxerrois, one of the few remaining, which thus announces your arrival in early Paris from the town of Napoleon and François Ier. (The Rue du Louvre itself is of very recent origin, and leads to the L to the new Post Office.) Still going east, you have on your R the tower of St. Jacques, once another fine mediæval church, now demolished. (Near it, on the L, opens out the modern Boulevard de Sébast
opol, forming part of the great trunk line from N to S, which was a principal feature in the Haussmannizing plan. It is known, further N, as the Boulevard de Strasbourg, and S as the Boulevard du Palais, and the Boulevard St. Michel.) Keep on till you come to the Hôtel de Ville, the centre of the town on the North Bank.
The old Hôtel de Ville, which this building replaces, was erected in 1533, under François Ier, by an Italian architect, in emulation of the similar buildings in Italy and the Low Countries. It was afterwards largely added to at various times, and played an important part in the history of Paris. This first Hôtel de Ville, however (a handsome Renaissance building), was unfortunately burned down during the internal struggles of 1871. The present edifice was erected shortly after, in much the same style, but on a larger scale; a walk round the exterior will help to piece out the visitor’s conception of Renaissance Paris. Note here once more the pavillons at the angles, and other features which recall the Louvre. A visit to the interior is quite unnecessary for any save those hardened sight-seers who desire to inspect the decorations and arrangements of purely contemporary buildings. The sole reason for coming to the Hôtel de Ville at all, indeed, is the desirability of recognising its historic site, and understanding that here, by the hall of the old Prévôt des Marchands and the seat of the revolutionary Commune of Robespierre’s period, you stand at the heart of La Ville — the Paris of the merchants. The building is occupied by the Préfet de la Seine — the Department which practically coincides with Paris. The Place in front of it, now called after the Hôtel itself, is the old Place de Grève, the famous place of execution under the old Monarchy, — almost equally conspicuous in the history of the great Revolution.
Earlier still than the building of François Ier, a “Hostel de Ville” had stood upon the same site, purchased for the purpose by Étienne Marcel, Prévôt des Marchands, the real founder of the Paris municipality — to whom, therefore, a bronze equestrian statue has been erected in the little square facing the river.
The Hôtel de Ville forms a convenient centre from which to begin the exploration of the core of the northern city. Walk round to the back (with a second fine façade) and, between the two handsome barracks, you see towering before you the front of the church of
St. Gervais.
This is an old church, remodelled: and, unlike most of the churches in the older part of Paris, it does not commemorate a local saint. Gervasius and Protasius, to whom it is dedicated, were two very doubtful martyrs of the persecution under Nero, whose names, bodies, and resting-place were miraculously and conveniently revealed to St. Ambrose at Milan (A.D. 387) at the exact moment when he needed relics for the church he had built, and which is now dedicated to him — the most interesting building in that beautiful city. St. Germain, bishop of Paris, brought back some relics of these saints in 560: and thenceforth St. Gervais and St. Protais became great objects of cult, like St. Stephen, in the Frankish city. (They are frequent subjects of French pictures in the 17th century.) This church, dedicated to them, probably occupies the site of one built by St. Germain in their honour. It was begun in 1212, added to and completely altered in 1420, and finally remodelled in front in the later Renaissance or classic manner. Most of the building as it stands is late Gothic; but you must go to the side to see it: the incongruous classic façade, illustrating the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders, was added by Debrosse in 1616. Notice the coldness and bareness of this pseudo-classical front, as compared with the rich detail of the earlier mediæval exteriors. Almost the only breaks are the figures, on either side, of the two martyrs to contain whose relics the church was built. The sides, enclosed in houses which go close up to the wall, show the earlier architecture. Most churches in Paris were so walled up during the 17th century. The tower, and the aspect of the streets at the side, are very characteristic of a set of old effects now seldom visible.
The interior is chiefly noticeable for its great height, and for its interesting Late Gothic architecture. The patron saints, with their palms of martyrdom, stand on either side of the High Altar. The chapels at the S side should be examined separately: in one is a good stained glass window by Pinaigrier (restored) of the Judgment of Solomon. Notice to what saint each is dedicated. The beautiful flamboyant Lady Chapel, behind the choir, contains good modern frescoes, illustrating the mystic titles of the Blessed Virgin, whose history is shown in the stained glass of the windows, also by Pinaigrier, but very much restored. These scenes the reader will now, I trust, be able to follow for himself — the birth, education, marriage, etc., of the Virgin, with the events of her life as recorded in the Gospels, and her death and assumption. Good Pietà (Christ mourned by angels) as you return on the N side, with some excellent paintings — Martyrdom of St. Juliet, etc. I do not enlarge, as I hope the reader is now able to follow the lead I have given him in previous churches.
From St. Gervais, walk a little way along the N side of the church, enclosed in its curious envelope of houses, till you come to the Mairie of the IVth Arrondissement. Then, turn up into the Rue de la Verrerie, along which continue till you reach the side of the church of St. Merri, almost hidden from view by a wall of houses. The façade is round the corner, in the Rue St. Martin. This is one of the few remaining mediæval churches in this district. St. Merri (Abbot Mederic of Autun) was a (historical) saint of the 7th century, local and early. He had a hermitage on this spot (then in the woods), and was finally buried here. The shrine over his tomb became the centre of a Parisian cult, and several churches rose successively above his body. The present one was not built till 1520; it is nevertheless a good late Gothic building. But notice the decline from the purity of Notre-Dame and the exquisite lightness of St. Louis’s chapel. Handsome flamboyant doorway, one mass of sculpture: statues of 12 Apostles, with symbols of their martyrdoms, all restored, after being destroyed in the Revolution. The interior is interesting, but spoilt in 17th century: good stained glass, badly injured. I bring you here mainly for the sake of the reminiscences.
Continue straight on through characteristic old streets, to the modern Boulevard de Sébastopol, which cuts right through the core of Paris. Cross it and take the first turn to the left (as you walk northward) observing the marked contrast of the modern thoroughfare to the narrow streets we have just been traversing. Go along the Rue de la Reynie, and continue for one block, till you see, a little obliquely to your right, the
Square des Innocents.
In the centre rises the Fontaine des Innocents, designed by Pierre Lescot, with beautiful and appropriate sculptured figures of nymphs, bearing urns of water, by Jean Goujon. The fountain originally stood with its back to the Church of the Innocents, demolished in 1783. It has been re-erected here, with a fourth side added (to the S), and has been much altered by the addition of a base and cupola. Nevertheless, it still remains a beautiful and typical example of French Renaissance architecture and sculpture. The coquettish reliefs, indeed, are not perhaps more lovely than those which adorn Jean Goujon’s portion of the Louvre; but they are nearer to the eye, and the scale enables one to judge of the entire effect more truthfully. The other exquisite nymphs which we saw in the Renaissance Sculpture at the Louvre, were originally part of the same fountain. The pretty little square in which the fountain stands is characteristic of the many democratic public gardens of Paris.
Proceed diagonally across the square, and continue along the North side of the Halles Centrales, till the east end of
St. Eustache
with its characteristic French chevet, comes in view before you. At the Pointe St. Eustache, as you cross the roadway, look up the vistas of un-Haussmannized Paris, again contrasting vividly with the broad Rue de Turbigo, which runs hence to the Place de la République. Do not enter at the first door at which you arrive — the one in the chevet — a rather good one — but continue along the South side of the church, observing as you pass the beautiful transept, with fine rose window, noble Renaissance portal, and a stag’s head with the crucifix (emblem of St. Eustace)
surmounting the gable. Go on round the corner to the gaunt, bare, lumbering, and unimposing late Renaissance or classical façade. In this you see the worst aspect of the decadent Renaissance architecture of Louis XIV — no saints, no archways. The door to the R gives access to the interior. In any other town but Paris, so splendid a building, rivalling many cathedrals, would attract numerous visitors. Here, it is hardly noticed. This is the church of the “Dames de la Halle” or market-women, who may often be observed in it.
We have already seen in brief at Cluny the main elements of the story of St. Eustace, the saint who was converted by the apparition of the Christ between the horns of the stag he was pursuing. Though not a local martyr, St. Eustace early obtained great consideration in Paris. But the first church here was one to St. Agnes: look out for memorials of her throughout the building. St. Eustace had practically supplanted her as early as 1223: his church, after many enlargements, was finally pulled down under François Ier, and the present splendid Renaissance edifice erected in its place in 1532; completed in 1640. It is a strangely picturesque and unique building. St. Eustache, indeed, displays Renaissance architecture in a transitional state, endeavouring vainly to free itself from the traditions of the Gothic. In general plan, and in the combination of all its parts, it is in essence a Gothic cathedral; but its arches are round, and its detail and decorative work are all conceived in the classical spirit of the Renaissance. If you wish to see the difference between such a church and one in which developed Renaissance methods have finally triumphed, you must visit St. Sulpice.