Now walk up the Right Aisle. The first chapel is the Baptistery, containing the font and a modern statue of the boy Baptist. Third chapel, St. Antony of Padua. The fourth chapel contains a curious Holy Sepulchre, with quaint life-size terra-cotta figures of the 16th century. Fifth chapel, a gilt châsse. Notice the transepts, reduced to short arms, scarcely, if at all, projecting beyond the chapels. From this point examine the exquisite Renaissance tracery of the rood-screen and staircases. Then pass under the fine Renaissance door, with lovely decorative work, into the ambulatory. The Choir is in large part Gothic, with late flamboyant tracery. The apparent triforium is continued round the ambulatory. The splendid gilded shrine in the second choir-chapel contains the remains of Ste. Geneviève, or what is left of them. Candles burn perpetually around it. Hundreds of votaries here pay their devotions daily to the Patroness of Paris. The shrine, containing what is alleged to be the original sarcophagus of the Saint (more probably of the 13th century) stands under a richly-gilt Gothic tabernacle, adorned with figures legibly named on their pedestals. The stained-glass window behind it has a representation of a processional function with the body of the Saint, showing this church, together with a view of the original church of Ste. Geneviève, the remaining tower, and adjacent houses, historically most interesting. The window beyond the shrine also contains the history of Ste. Geneviève – her childhood, first communion, miracles, distribution of bread during the siege of Paris, conversion of Clovis, death, etc. Indeed the long sojourn of the body of Ste. Geneviève in this church has almost overshadowed its dedication to St. Stephen, several memorials of whom may, however, be recognised by the attentive visitor – amongst them, a picture of his martyrdom (by Abel de Pujol) near the entrance to the choir. The Protomartyr also stands, with his deacon’s robe and palm, in a niche near the door of the sacristy, where L and R are frescoes of his Disputation with the Doctors, and his Martyrdom. The chapel immediately behind the high altar is, as usual, the Lady Chapel. The next contains a good modern window of the Marriage of the Virgin. Examine in detail all the windows; one of the mystic wine-press is very interesting. Votive offerings of the city of Paris to Ste. Geneviève also exist in the ambulatory. Curious frescoes of the martyrdom of the 10,00 °Christians on Mount Ararat on the N side. The best view of the choir is obtained from the N side of the ambulatory, opposite the shrine of Ste. Geneviève. In the north aisle notice St. Louis with the Crown of Thorns. Stand again in the centre of the nave, near the entrance, and observe the curious inclination of the choir and high altar to one side – here particularly noticeable, and said in every case to represent the droop of the Redeemer’s head on the cross.
Go out again. As you emerge from the door, observe the cold and bare side of the Panthéon, contrasted with the internal richness of St. Étienne. Curious view of the late Gothic portion of the church from the little Place on the N side. Return by the Rue Cujas and Rue St. Jacques, passing the Lycée Ste. Barbe, Lycée Louis-le-Grand, University, and other scholastic buildings, which give a good idea of the character of the quarter.
III
RENAISSANCE PARIS (THE LOUVRE)
[PARIS, which spread rapidly Southward at first, was somewhat slower in its Northward development. Nevertheless, by the time of Philippe Auguste, the Town La Ville– the commercial portion N of the river – more than equalled the learned district on the S side. This central northern region, however, containing the Hôtel de Ville, St. Eustache, and some other important buildings, I purposely postpone to the consideration of the Louvre and its neighbourhood, which, though later in date, form the heart and core of Renaissance Paris – the Paris of François Ier and his splendour-loving successors.
Most of the buildings we have hitherto considered are mediæval and Gothic. The Louvre introduces us at once to a new world – the world of the Renaissance. The transition is abrupt. In Italy, and especially in Florence, the Renaissance was a natural growth; in France it was a fashion. It came in, full-fledged, without history or antecedents. To trace its evolution, one must follow it out in detail in Florence and Venice. There, it grows of itself, organically, by gradual stages. But in France, Gothic churches and mediæval châteaux give place at once, with a bound, to developed Renaissance temples and palaces. The reason for this fact is, that the French kings, from Charles VIII onward to Henri IV, were thoroughly Italianate. They fought, travelled, and married in Italy, to parts of which they laid claim; and being closely allied with the Medici and other Italian families, – husbands of Medici wives, sons of Medici mothers, – they introduced at once into France the developed products of the Italian Renaissance. At the same time the increased and centralized power of the Crown enabled them to build magnificent palaces, like the Louvre and Fontainebleau; and to this artificial impulse is mainly due the sudden outburst of art in France under François Ier and his immediate successors.
It is impossible to characterize the Renaissance in a few short sentences. In one aspect, it was a return from Gothicism to Classical usage, somewhat altered by the new conditions of life. At first you will probably only notice that in architecture it substituted round arches for pointed, and introduced square doors and windows; while in other arts it replaced sacred and Christian subjects and treatment by mythological and secular. But, in contrast with mediævalism, it will reveal itself to you by degrees as essentially the dawn of the modern spirit.
The Louvre is the noblest monument of the French Renaissance. From the time of St. Louis onward, the French kings began to live more and more in the northern suburb, the town of the merchants, which now assumed the name of La Ville, in contradistinction to the Cité and the Université. Two of their chief residences here were the Bastille and the Hôtel St. Paul, both now demolished – one, on the Place so called, the other, between the Rue St. Antoine and the Quai des Célestins. But from a very early period they also possessed a château on the site of the Louvre, and known by the same name, which guarded the point where the wall of Philippe Auguste abutted on the river. François Ier decided to pull down this picturesque turreted mediæval castle, erected by Philippe Auguste and altered by Charles V. He began the construction in its place of a magnificent Renaissance palace, which has ever since been in course of erection. Its subsequent growth, however, is best explained opposite the building itself, where attention can be duly called to the succession of its salient features. But a visit to the exterior fabric of the Louvre should be preceded by one to St. Germain l’Auxerrois, the parish church, and practically the chapel, of the old Louvre, to which it stood in somewhat the same relation as the Ste. Chapelle to the home of St. Louis. Note, however, that the church was situated just within the ancient wall, while the château lay outside it. The visitor will doubtless be tolerably familiar by this time with some parts at least of the exterior of the Louvre; but he will do well to visit it now systematically, in the order here suggested, so as to gain a clear general idea of its history and meaning.]
A. THE FABRIC
Go along the Rue de Rivoli, past the Palais Royal, till you reach the Rue du Louvre. Turn down it, with the Louvre on your right. To your left stands a curious composite building, with a detached belfry in the centre, and two wings, as it seems, one on either side. The southernmost wing is the old church of St. Germain l’Auxerrois, the sole remnant of the earliest Louvre; the northernmost wing is the modern Mairie of the 1st Arrondissement, unhappily intended to “harmonize” with it. The real result is, that the modern building kills the old one. The belfry was designed to fill up the gap between the two. Its effect is disastrous.
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