CHAPTER XXII

Chapter 225,968 wordsPublic domain

PARIS OF TO-DAY

When the siege of Paris came to an end and the German troops were withdrawn the provisional government which had been making its headquarters at Bordeaux removed to Versailles. The violent element in Paris which had given Louis Philippe so much trouble had increased both in numbers and in strength of feeling during the third quarter of the century. Now these radicals asserted that Thiers, the head of the provisional government, had betrayed France to the enemy, and they won to their way of thinking the Central Committee of the usually conservative National Guard. From the City Hall they directed the election of a new city government, the Commune of Paris, which held itself independent of the Assembly at Versailles and defied it.

Just a month after the hated Prussians had left Paris the communists made a sortie toward Versailles. As a natural reaction the Versailles government invested the city, and Frenchmen were pitted against Frenchmen as in the days when Henry IV was besieging his own capital town. Nor was the conflict merely between the people inside and the people outside--within Paris there was a constant struggle between the conservatives and the communists and even among the communists themselves. The conservatives disapproved of the drastic social changes made by the new government in closing the churches, and dispersing some of the religious orders, as well as of their confiscations of property on slight warrant and their onslaught upon monuments of sentimental and artistic value, such as the Vendôme Column. The communists, on the other hand, were torn by internal dissensions and their constant quarrels brought about the usual weakness resulting from poor team work.

Ferocity never failed them, however. Constructive measures were postponed; revenge, never. No sufficient excuse ever has been offered for their massacres of hostages, good Archbishop Darboy among them; none for the senseless orgy of destruction with which, after a two months’ struggle, they recognized their defeat by the government troops under Marshal MacMahon. When the soldiers entered Paris their first work was the extinguishing of the fires which the communists had set in a hundred places. Men and women, urged by hatred and fanaticism, piled kegs of gunpowder into

churches, even into Notre Dame, relic and record of centuries, and poured petroleum upon the flames devouring the Palace of Justice, the Sainte Chapelle, the library of the Louvre, the Luxembourg palace, the Palais Royal. The houses on the rue Royale were a mass of broken brick. The Ministry of Finance on the rue de Rivoli was so injured that it was torn down, to be replaced by a hotel. Three hundred years of historical association did not avail to save the palace of the Tuileries whose ruins were considered not sufficient to be restored. The Hôtel de Ville was a mere shell and required practically entire rebuilding. Property amounting to a hundred millions of dollars was destroyed, while the historical and sentimental value of many of the buildings cannot be computed.

The communists were as reckless with their own lives as with the buildings. Some two thousand persons--women and children as well as men--fell in the contest with the government. The last struggle was in the cemetery of Père Lachaise whose tombs could serve only as temporary protection against shell and shot from the rash fighters who were soon to need a final resting-place. It was only after the execution of many of the insurgent leaders that Marshal MacMahon brought about a semblance of peace.

With returning quiet all France turned its attention to securing the payment of the war indemnity of a billion dollars due to Prussia. Until that indebtedness was cleared off the hated uniform of the army of occupation was omnipresent. So eager were the French to rid themselves of this sight that every peasant went into his “stocking” or tapped his mattress bank until the necessary amount was subscribed many times over. Two years and a half after the capitulation of Paris not a German soldier was left in the country. There could be no stronger testimony to the national thrift fostered by the pinch of the pre-Revolutionary days and so alive to-day that the French are looked upon as the readiest financiers in Europe, prepared to invest in anything from a Panama Canal to a New York _gratte-ciel_ (skyscraper).

The terms of the peace with Germany required the surrender of one-half of the border province of Lorraine and the whole of Alsace. It was a bitter day not only for these districts but for the whole country when the Germans took possession of the ceded territory. Fifty thousand people left their property behind and went over into France rather than lose the name of Frenchmen. Many came to America. Now, forty years later, the memory of the loss is not dulled, and the statue of Strasbourg in the Place de la Concorde wears perpetual mourning.

Many have been the problems faced by France since the Franco-Prussian war. Political adjustment has been of first importance, of course, but Paris has had her own questions to answer, and, because of her cosmopolitanism, her solutions have been of interest to the whole world. Much time and thought have been spent on the repairs required by the excesses of the communists. The rebuilding of the City Hall on the same spot on which it had stood for five hundred years and in the style which Francis I initiated three centuries before, was a task on which Paris lavished thought and money. The exterior is a finely harmonious example of renaissance. The mural paintings of the interior are a record of the work of the best French artists of the last quarter of the nineteenth century. They are enhanced by heavily handsome gildings and by chandeliers of glittering crystal.

As a whole, however, the city has put more expenditure into the perfecting of public utilities, the beautifying of streets and the construction of parks--works of use to the many--than into the erection of buildings of less general service. The panorama which make the frontispiece of this volume shows the care with which pavements and curbs and tree-guards are ordered. A small tricycle sweeper is 1912’s latest device for removing any last reproach of Lutetia’s mud--a reproach formulated to-day only by Parisians made fastidious by a century of cleanliness.

The panorama shows also the arrangement of the quays and the orderliness which makes them possible in the very center of the city, even when there is discharged upon them huge loads of freight brought from the sea by the strings of barges (seen in the picture of the Eiffel Tower opposite page 360) which are moved by a tug and a chain-towing device.

In some parts of this city of three million inhabitants the quays disclose scenes that are almost rural. Under the fluttering leaves of a slender tree a rotund housewife is making over a mattress, exchanging witticisms with a near-by vender of little cakes. Not far off the owner of a poodle is engaging his attention while a professional dog clipper is decorating him with an outfit of collar and cuffs calculated to rouse envy in the breasts of less favored _caniches_.

When the hero of an old English novel orders his servant to call a “fly” we wonder whether the misnamed vehicle which responds has been christened from the verb or the noun. There is no doubt in Paris as to the origin of the “fly boats” on the Seine. These busy little travelers are of insect origin--they are _bateaux mouches_.

What these boats are on the river the _fiacres_ have been on land. These small open carriages

are now being replaced by motor taxis. The use of the meters on the horse-propelled vehicles as well as on the machines has deprived the tourist of one of the daily excitements of his visit--the heated argument with the driver concerning his charge. Another change which has been consummated since 1913 began is the passing of the horse-drawn omnibus with its “imperial” or roof seats, from whose inexpensive vantage many travelers have considered that they secured their best view of the city streets. The two subway systems have many excellent points, not least of which is a method of ventilation which makes a summer’s day trip below ground a relief rather than a seeming excursion on the crust of the infernal regions.

The Champs Élysées is thought to offer the finest metropolitan vista in the world, when the Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile is seen across the Place de la Concorde from the Tuileries gardens, over two miles away.

Such vistas are frequent in Paris, offering a “point of view” in which a handsome building or monument finds its beauty enhanced. The regularity of the skyline adds to this effect. By a municipal regulation no façade may be higher than the width of the street and the consequent uniformity provides a not unpleasing monotony.

Paris parks are world famous, not only for the beauty of such great expanses as the Bois de Boulogne, just outside the fortifications, with its forest and lake and stream, its good roads and its alluring restaurants, but for the intelligent utilization of small open spaces in crowded parts of the city. Wherever any readjustment of lines or purposes gives opportunity, there a bit of grass rests the eye and a tree casts its share of shade. If there is space enough a piece of statuary educates the taste or the bust of some hero of history or of art makes familiar the features of great men. The demolition of the old clo’ booths of the Temple gave such a chance, and amid tall tenements and commonplace shops mothers sew and babies doze and one-legged veterans read the newspapers beneath the statue of the people’s poet, Béranger.

At one end of this square rises the _Mairie_ of the Third _Arrondissement_ (ward). These _Mairies_, of which there are twenty, are decorated with paintings, often by artists of repute, and always symbolic of the Family, of Labor or of the Fatherland. The Hall of Marriages in which the Mayor of the _arrondissement_ performs the civil ceremony required by law, receives especial attention and usually is a room handsomely appointed and adorned.

The French imagination likes to express itself

in symbols. Throughout the city there are many large groups, such as the Triumph of the Republic, unveiled in 1899, which dominates the Place de la Nation--a figure representative of the Republic attended by Liberty, Labor, Abundance and Justice. Even statues or busts or reliefs of authors, musicians or statesmen frequently are supported by allegorical figures. Such is the monument to Chopin which includes a figure of Night and one of Harmony, and such is the monument of Coligny whose portrait statue stands between Fatherland and Religion. In the Fountain of the Observatory seahorses, dolphins and tortoises surround allegorical figures of the four quarters of the globe. The young women lawyers who, in cap and gown, pace seriously through the great hall of the ancient Palace of Justice, are living symbols of twentieth century progress.

Haussmann’s plan of laying out broad streets radiating from a center served the further purpose of adding to the city’s beauty by providing wide open spaces and of wiping out narrow streets and insanitary houses. The Third Republic has continued to act on this scheme and has succeeded wonderfully well in achieving the desired improvement with but a small sacrifice of buildings of eminent historic value. On the Cité a web of memories clung to the tangle of streets swept away to secure a site for the new Hôtel Dieu on the north of Notre Dame which replaced the ancient hospital which has stood since Saint Louis’ day on the south side of the island.

The completion in 1912 of the new home of the National Printing Press near the Eiffel Tower brings to mind a Parisian habit indicative of thrift and of a respect for historical associations. The Press has been housed for many years in the eighteenth century _hôtel_ of the Dukes of Rohan built when the Marais was still fashionable. Anything more unsuitable for a printing establishment it would be hard to find. The rooms of a private house become a crowded fire trap when converted to industrial purposes. This use of the house has tided over a crisis, however, and once the last vestige of printer’s ink has been removed the old building probably will be restored to the beauty which the still existing decorations of some of the rooms show, and will be used for some more suitable purpose. One proposal is that it be used as an addition to the National Archives, since its grounds adjoin those of the Hôtels Clisson and Soubise, their present home. The Hôtel Carnavalet houses the Historical Museum of Paris, and part of the Louvre is used for government offices--two other instances of Paris wisdom.

There have been three Expositions in Paris under the Third Republic. Each has left behind a permanent memorial. The Palace of the Trocadéro, dating from 1878, is a huge concert hall where government-trained actors and singers often give for a strangely modest sum the same performances which cost more in the regular theaters with more elaborate accessories. The architecture of the Trocadéro is not beautiful but the situation is imposing and the general effect impressive when seen across the river from the south bank where the Eiffel Tower has raised its huge iron spider web since the World’s Fair of 1889.

The tower is a little world in itself with a restaurant and a theater, a government weather observatory and a wireless station. Since aviation has become fashionable the frequent purr of an engine tells the tourist sipping his tea “in English fashion” on the first stage that yet another aviator is taking his afternoon spin “around the Tour Eiffel.”

The latest exposition, that of 1900, gave to Paris the handsome bridge named after Czar Alexander III, the Grand Palais, where the world’s best pictures and sculptures are exhibited every spring, and the Petit Palais which holds several general collections and also the paintings and sculpture bought by the city from the Salons of the last thirty-five years. Such public art galleries are found throughout France, a development of Napoleon’s idea of bringing art to the people. Like Paris the provinces take advantage of the Salons to add to the treasures of their galleries.

Near the two palaces is the exquisite chapel of Our Lady of Consolation. It is built on the site of a building destroyed during the progress of a fashionable bazaar by a fire which wiped out one hundred thirty-two lives. The architectural details are of the classic style popular in the reign of Louis XVI.

Already rich in beautiful churches Paris has been further graced in recent years by the majestic basilica of the Sacred Heart gleaming mysteriously through the delicate haze that always enwraps Montmartre. The style is Romanesque-Byzantine, and the structure is topped by a large dome flanked by smaller ones. The interior lacks the colorful warmth of most of the city churches, but time will remedy that in part. Construction has been extremely slow for the same reason that the building of the Pantheon was a long process--the discovery that the summit of the hill was honeycombed by ancient quarries. It became necessary to sink shafts which were filled with masonry or concrete. Upon this strong sub-structure rises the splendid

work of expiation for the murder of Archbishop Darboy. The city owns the church.

To the tourist whose attention is not confined to the stock “sights” of Paris the city streets offer a wide field of interest. They show the stranger within the walls the neatness of the people and the orderliness which manifests itself in the automatic formation of a _queue_ of would-be passengers on an omnibus or a _bateau mouche_. They disclose little that looks like slums to the eye of a Londoner or a New Yorker, for dirt and sadness rather than congestion make slums, and the poor Parisian looks clean and cheerful even when a hole in his “stocking” has let all his savings escape.

History lurks at every corner of these streets. It commands attention to the imposing pile of Notre Dame, it piques curiosity by the palpably ancient turrets of the rue Hautefeuille. The non-existent is recalled by the tablet on the site of the house where Coligny was assassinated, by the outline of Philip Augustus’s Louvre traced on the eastern courtyard of the palace, by the name of the street that passes over the mad king’s menagerie at the Hôtel Saint Paul. Étienne Marcel sits his horse beside the City Hall he bought for Paris; Desmoulins mounts his chair in the garden of the Palais Royal to make the passionate speech that wrought the destruction

of the Bastille. Even the _boucheries chevalines_, the markets that sell horse steaks and “ass and mule meat of the first quality,” bring back the days when Henry IV cut off supplies coming from the suburbs of Paris and when, three hundred years later, the Prussians used the same means to gain the same end. That the Parisians of to-day are willing to take chances on universal peace in the future seems attested by the recent vote (1913) of the Municipal Council to convert the fortifications and the land adjacent into parks. The people of the markets, at any rate, are not worrying about any possibilities of hunger for they continue as hard-working and as fluent as when they acted as Marie Antoinette’s escort on the occasion of the “Joyous Entry” from Versailles, though kinder now in heart and action.

Paris charms the stranger as the birdman of the Tuileries Gardens charms his feathered friends--making hostile gestures with one hand and popping bread crumbs into open beaks with the other. The great city of three million people, like all great cities, threatens to overcome the lonely traveler; then, at the seeming moment of destruction, she gives him the food he needs most--perhaps a glimpse of patriotic gayety in the street revels of the fourteenth of July, perhaps the cordial welcome that she has bestowed on students since Charlemagne’s day, perhaps the less personal appeal of the beauty of a wild dash of rain seen down the river against the western sky, perhaps the impulse to sympathy aroused by the passing of a first communion procession of little girls, wide-eyed from their new, soul-stirring experience.

In a quiet corner behind a convent chapel where nuns vowed to Perpetual Adoration unceasingly tend the altar, rests the body of America’s friend, Lafayette. If for no other reason than because of his friendship, Americans must always feel an interest in the city in which he did his part toward crystallizing the _bourgeois_ rule which makes the French government one of the most interesting political experiments of Europe to-day. Yet Paris needs no intermediary. In her are centered taste, thought, the gayety and exaggeration of the past, light-heartedness in the stern present. The city is a record of the development of a people who have expressed themselves in words and in deeds, and by the more subtle methods of Art. The story is not ended, and as long as the writing goes on, vivid and alluring as the “Gallic spirit” can make it, so long there will be no lack of readers of all nations, our own among the most eager.

APPENDIX

GENEALOGICAL TABLES OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF FRANCE

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF RULERS, 1792-1913

THE MEROVINGIAN DYNASTY

Merovée | Childéric I | _Clovis_[10] (481-511) | +-----------------------+---------+-----------+---------------------+ | | | | Thierry I Chlodomir Childébert I _Clotaire I_ (King of Metz) (King of Orleans) (King of Paris) (King of Soissons, then Sole king, 558-561) | +-------------------+-----------------------+-------------------------+--+ | | | | Caribert Gontran Sigebert I Chilpéric I (King of Paris) (King of Burgundy) (King of Austrasia, (King of Soissons, M. Brunehaut, M. Frédégonde, D. 584) D. 575) | | | Childébert II _Clotaire II_ | 613-628 | | Thierry II _Dagobert I_ 628-638 | _Clovis II_ 638-656 | +---------+---------------+ | | _Childéric II_ _Thierry III_ D. 673 D. 691 | Chilpéric II | Childéric III (Deposed by Pepin le Bref in 752)

Pépin d’Héristal (Duke of the Franks, D. 714) | Charles Martel (Mayor of the Palace in Austrasia, 715-741)

THE CAPETIAN DYNASTY

_Hugh Capet_ (Duke of France, Count of Paris, Elected King of France, 987) 987-996 | _Robert, the Pious_ 996-1031 | _Henry I_ 1031-1060 | _Philip I_ 1060-1108 | _Louis VI, the Fat_ 1108-1137 | _Louis VII, the Young_ 1137-1180 | _Philip Augustus_ 1180-1223 | _Louis VIII, the Lion_ 1223-1226 | +-----------------------+---------------+ | | _Louis IX--Saint Louis_ Charles 1226-1270 (Count of Anjou and Provence; founder of the royal house of Naples) | +---------------------------------------+ | | _Philip III, the Bold_ Robert 1270-1285 (Court of Clermont; founder | of the house of Bourbon) | +----------------------------------------+ | | _Philip IV, the Fair_ Charles 1285-1314 (Count of Valois; founder of the house of Valois) | _Philip VI_ 1328-1350 | +------------------------+----------------------+------------------------+ | | | | _Louis X, the Quarreler_ Philip V, the Long_ _Charles IV, the Fair_ Isabelle 1314-1316 1316-1322 1322-1328 (M. Edward II, of England) | Edward III, of England

HOUSE OF VALOIS

_Philip VI, of Valois_ (Son of Charles, Count of Valois, a younger brother of Philip the Fair) 1328-1350 | _John, the Good_ 1350-1364 | +-----------------------+------------------+----------------------+ | | | | _Charles V, the Wise_ Louis John Philip 1364-1380 (Duke of Anjou) (Duke of Berri) (Duke of Burgundy) | John, the Fearless | | +-----------------------------+ | | | | _Charles VI, the Well-Beloved_ Louis | | 1380-1422 (Duke of Orleans; | | founder of the house | | of Valois-Orleans) | | | | _Charles VII, the Victorious_ Philip the Good 1422-1461 | | | | | | | | +-----------+------+---+ | | | | | | Charles John | | (Duke of Orleans) (Count of Angoulême) | | | | _Louis XI_ | Charles Charles the Bold 1461-1483 _Louis XII_ (Count of Angoulême) | | 1498-1515 | | +-----------------------+ | | | | | | _Charles VIII_ Jeanne _Francis I_ Mary 1483-1498 (M. Duke of Orleans 1515-1547 (M. Maximilian, Archduke afterwards Louis XII) | of Austria) | | _Henry II_ Philip (M. Marie de Medicis) | 1547-1559 Charles V | (Emperor) +--------------------------------------------------+-------------------------+ | | _Francis II_ _Charles IX_ _Henry III_ Elizabeth Marguerite (M. Mary, Queen 1560-1574 1574-1589 (M. Philip II (M. Henry of Navarre, of Scots) of Spain) afterwards Henry IV) 1559-1560

HOUSE OF BOURBON

Robert, son of St. Louis, married Beatrice of Bourbon and had a son Louis, Duke of Bourbon, from whom was descended Antoine, Duke of Vendôme, who married Jeanne d’Albret, Queen of Navarre. Their son was

_Henry IV_ 1589-1610 | _Louis XIII_ 1610-1643 +-------------------------------------------------+ | | _Louis XIV_ Philip, Duke of Orleans 1643-1715 (Founder of the house of Bourbon-Orleans) | | Louis the Dauphin Philippe (Regent) | | Louis of Burgundy Louis | | _Louis XV_ Louis Philippe 1715-1774 | | | Louis the Dauphin Louis Philippe (“Egalité”) | | | | +---------------------+-----------------------+--------+------------+----------------+ | | | | | _Louis XVI_[12] Louis of Provence Charles of Artois _Louis Philippe_ (“Citizen King”) 1774-1793 (afterward (afterward (succeeded by | _Louis XVIII_, _Charles X_ _Napoleon III_) 1814-1824) 1824-1830) | Louis XVII 1814-1824 | | Duke of Berry Ferdinand, Duke of Orleans | | | +--------+-------+ | | | | Louis Robert Count of Chambord (Count of Paris) (Duke of Chartres) | Robert

THE BONAPARTE FAMILY

Carlo Bonaparte | +-----------+-----------------+--+-----------+----------------+ | | | | | Jos. Bonaparte _Napoleon I_ Lucien Bonaparte Louis Bonaparte Jer. Bonaparte | | Napoleon II _Napoleon III_ (King of Rome)

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF RULERS, 1792-1913

THE FIRST REPUBLIC

1792. The Convention. 1795. The Directory 1799. The Consulate

THE FIRST EMPIRE

1804 Napoleon I

RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS

1814 Louis XVIII

“THE HUNDRED DAYS”

1815. Napoleon I

THE SECOND RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS

1815. Louis XVIII 1824. Charles X 1830. Louis Philippe

THE SECOND REPUBLIC

1848. Louis Napoleon, President

THE SECOND EMPIRE

1852. Napoleon III

THE THIRD REPUBLIC

1870. Provisional Government 1871. M. Thiers, President 1873. Marshal MacMahon 1879. M. Grévy 1885. M. Grévy 1887. M. Carnot 1894. Casimir Périer 1895. Félix Faure 1899. Emile Loubet 1906. Armand Fallières 1913. Raymond Poincaré

INDEX

Abbaye Prison; see Saint Germain-des-Prés.

Abbey; see Church.

Abélard, 57-59, 65, 77.

Academy, 258.

Amphitheater, 10.

Anne of Austria, 252, 253, 260, 262, 263.

Arc de Triomphe de l’Etoile, 270, 330, 337, 350, 358, 360, 363, 368, 375.

Arc du Carrousel, 329.

Archbishop’s Palace, 253, 344, 347.

Archévêché; see Archbishop’s Palace.

Archives Nationales, 378.

Arènes; see Amphitheater.

Arsenal, 222.

Banque de France, 79, 272, 362.

Bastille, 162, 163, 183, 185, 191, 206, 228, 249, 293, 294, 295, 298, 383.

Bibliothèque Nationale; see National Library.

Blanche of Castile, 33, 90-98, 101.

Bois de Boulogne, 205, 363, 376.

Bonaparte; see Napoleon.

Bourse, 331.

Bourse de Commerce, 223.

Bridge; see Pont.

Carlovingian Kings, 32-41.

Catherine de Medicis, 209, 214-230, 237, 243, 246, 247, 361.

Champ de Mars, 281, 298, 358, 359.

Champs Elysées, 270, 330, 337, 340, 358, 375.

Chapelle Expiatoire, 339.

Chapelle, Sainte, 87, 100, 126, 155, 170, 173, 194, 197, 233, 306, 350, 359, 371.

Charlemagne, 33, 35, 36, 37, 69, 192, 383.

Charles IV, 127, 128.

Charles V, 136-165, 179, 190, 256.

Charles VI, 166-185, 199.

Charles VII, 181, 183-189, 201.

Charles VIII, 197, 199, 202.

Charles IX, 215-227, 231, 237.

Charles X, 23, 339, 341-344.

Châtelet, Grand, 60, 114, 145, 164, 172, 318.

Châtelet, Petit, 38, 60, 78, 164, 289.

Church or religious house: Abbey-in-the-Woods, 271. Saint Augustin, 361. Saint Bartholomew and Saint Magloire, 49. Carmelites, 254, 303. Carmes Billettes, 123. Sainte Clotilde, 349. Cordeliers, 139, 159, 299, 306. Saint Denis, 27, 30, 33, 35, 37, 56, 60, 61, 65, 94, 100, 105, 133, 153, 156, 159, 160, 164, 168, 181, 184, 235, 247, 339, 341. Saint Eloy, 33. Saint Etienne, 11, 33, 88. Saint Etienne-du-Mont, 8, 21, 88, 193, 207, 306. Saint Eustache, 207, 222, 306. Sainte Geneviève, 21, 42, 57, 116, 254, 283. Sainte Geneviève des Ardente, 61. Saint Germain-des-Prés, 29, 34, 37, 42, 55, 62, 85, 141, 303. Saint Germain l’Auxerrois, 30, 138, 193, 217, 230, 270, 346, 365. Saint Gervais (on the Cité), 33. Saint Gervais and Saint Protais (in the Ville), 254, 306. Holy Innocents, 66, 81, 182. Jacobins, 133, 299. Saint Jacques-de-la-Boucherie, 61, 207, 360. Saint Jacques-du-Haut-Pas, 223. Saint Julien-le-Pauvre, 28, 63, 64, 78, 83, 96, 122, 194, 306. Saint Laurent, 28, 193. Saint Leu, 120, 276. Saint Louis d’Antin, 289. Saint Louis en l’Ile, 256. Madeleine, 282, 283, 331, 339, 350. Saint Martin-des-Champs, 14, 53, 60, 62, 65, 83, 87, 101, 120, 308. Saint Médard, 279. Saint Merri, 343. Saint Michel, 33. Saint Nicholas, 33, 61, 100. Saint Nicholas-du-Chardonnet, 272. Saint Nicholas-des-Champs, 193. Notre Dame, 11, 33, 38, 57, 61, 64, 67, 87, 88, 89, 100, 110, 112, 129, 133, 151, 168, 173, 184, 185, 186, 212, 214, 235, 253, 260, 285, 306, 324, 344, 350, 354, 358, 359, 363, 371, 378, 381. Notre Dame de Consolation, 380. Notre Dame de l’Etoile, 65. Notre Dame de Lorette, 340. Notre Dame-des-Victoires, 250, 267. Oratory, The, 254. Saint Paul-Saint Louis, 254. Saint Peter and Saint Paul, 2. Petits-Augustins, 244. Saint Philippe-du-Roule, 283. Saint Pierre-aux-Boeufs, 62, 194. Saint Pierre-de-Montmartre, 62, 63. Saint Roch, 254, 305. Sacré Coeur, 13, 62, 380. Saint Séverin, 28, 194, 306. Sorbonne, 254, 321. Saint Sulpice, 271, 284, 306. Saint Thos. Aquinas, 254. Trinity, 361. Val-de-Grâce, 253, 306. Saint Victor, 57. Saint Vincent, 28, 29. Saint Vincent-de-Paul, 340, 361.

Capetians, Early, 44-67.

Cité, 3, 8, 10, 11, 33, 34, 37, 39, 42, 48, 56, 57, 60, 61, 66, 67, 70, 78, 80, 81, 83, 96, 133, 167, 181, 193, 194, 217, 227, 250, 255, 318, 326, 343, 360, 362, 377.

City Hall; see Hôtel de Ville.

Clovis, 5, 16, 19, 20, 22, 28, 29, 33, 341

Coligny, 27, 217, 221, 230, 232, 254, 381.

College of France, 202.

College of the Four Nations; see Institute.

Collège Mazarin; see Institute.

Comédie Française, 290.

Conciergerie, 48, 97, 98, 164, 305.

Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers, 53, 308.

Convent; see Church.

Corn Exchange, 223.

Cours la Reine, 205, 252.

Dagobert I, 14, 27, 34.

Dolet, Etienne, 203.

Eiffel Tower, 281, 374, 379.

Eudes, 38, 39-41, 48.

Eugénie, 91, 228, 363.

Fair of Saint Germain, 291.

Fair of Saint Laurent, 291.

Field of Mars; see Champ de Mars.

Foundling Hospital, 212.

Francis I, 145, 199-209, 211, 222, 224, 246, 255, 323, 373.

Francis II, 214, 215.

Gate; see Porte.

Gobelins, 8, 272.

Gothic Architecture, 85.

Gozlin, 38.

Grève, 6, 34, 61, 117, 121, 143, 145, 186, 191, 203, 210, 225, 247, 250, 269, 295, 303, 307, 309.

Halle aux Vins, 57, 319.

Halles Centrales, 61, 66, 81, 203, 207, 276, 297, 362, 383.

Henry I, 52-54.

Henry II, 206, 209-214, 222, 224, 237, 246, 247, 255.

Henry III, 226-229, 231, 233.

Henry IV, 66, 89, 215-221, 229-248, 250, 251, 256, 257, 286, 324, 327, 361, 366, 369, 383.

Hôpital de Charité, 242.

Hôtel: d’Aubray, 268. Barbette, 178, 194. Beauvais, 273. de Bourgogne, 290. of Burgundy; see Hôtel de Bourgogne. Carnavalet, 224, 378. de Clisson, 163, 273, 378. de Cluny, 197, 350. Dieu, 33, 34, 64, 95, 96, 285, 360, 378. de Hollande, 273. Lamoignon, 225. Mazarin, 272. de Nesle, 124, 133, 178, 204, 281. Saint Paul, 156, 162, 174, 175, 176, 177, 181, 184, 222, 381. de Rambouillet, 257. de Rohan, 378. de Sens, 116, 163, 244. de Soissons, 223, 276. de Soubise, 273, 378. des Tournelles, 162, 190, 213, 222, 224, 237. de Ville, 6, 143-147, 167, 191, 195, 203, 207, 208, 210, 211, 254, 263, 268, 269, 288, 303, 326, 334, 343, 346, 352, 357-360, 365, 369, 371, 373. de la Vrillière, 272.

Hugh Capet, 41, 44-47, 49.

Ile Saint Louis, 83, 255, 257.

Institute, 254, 258, 304, 307, 314, 319.

Isabeau of Bavaria, 170-183.

Jardin des Plantes, 255.

Jeanne Darc, 18, 184, 185.

John the Fearless, 180, 181, 182, 199.

John I, 127.

John II, 129, 133-136, 151, 152, 165.

Josephine de Beauharnais, 304, 312-332.

July Column, 163, 296, 344.

Latin Quarter, 78, 79.

Law School, 283.

Library, National, 160, 272, 362.

Louis Bonaparte, 355.

Louis Napoleon; see Napoleon III.

Louis of Orleans, 178, 179, 199.

Louis Philippe, 327, 345-351, 356, 369.

Louis VI, 14, 59-64, 69.

Louis VII, 64-67, 88.

Louis VIII, 88, 90.

Louis IX (Saint), 33, 47, 59, 88-105, 125, 126, 143, 290, 348, 378.

Louis X, 107, 127, 144.

Louis XI, 102, 187-197, 200.

Louis XII, 197-200, 202, 203, 208.

Louis XIII, 248, 251, 255, 257, 260, 264.

Louis XIV, 126, 246, 252, 253, 258, 260-273, 323, 345.

Louis XV, 258, 274-287, 289, 292, 341.

Louis XVI, 42, 76, 114, 119, 282, 285, 287-305, 326, 336, 340, 380.

Louis XVIII, 14, 336-341.

Louvre, 42, 79, 81, 83, 84, 98, 109, 110, 114, 122, 128, 138, 140, 142, 146, 149, 156, 160, 161, 162, 169, 183, 205, 206, 211, 217, 222, 224, 227, 239, 246-249, 251, 253, 257, 263, 269, 270, 280, 308, 313, 314, 321, 324, 326, 328, 329, 332, 360, 365, 371, 378, 381.

Lucotecia, 8.

Lutetia, 2, 3, 5, 8, 9, 10, 373.

Luxembourg, Museum of the, 253, 271.

Mairies, 376.

Maison aux Piliers; see Hôtel de Ville.

Marais, 6, 83, 123, 178, 224, 251, 257, 290, 293, 300, 378.

Marcel, Etienne, 137-149, 162, 195, 207, 381.

Marie Antoinette, 98, 126, 287, 297, 300, 301, 305, 310, 317, 339, 383.

Marie de Medicis, 202, 243, 244, 248, 251-253.

Massacre of Saint Bartholomew, 27, 30, 98, 215, 217-222, 243.

Mazarin, 260, 262, 263, 265.

Merovingian Kings, 19, 22-30, 32.

Military School, 281, 311, 358.

Ministry of Finance, 371.

Mint, 280.

Monastery; see Church.

Mons Lucotetius, 8, 10, 21, 28.

Montfaucon, 40, 107.

Montmartre, 13, 62, 284, 380.

Mont Sainte Geneviève, 8, 21, 34, 78, 83, 88, 96, 144, 192, 202, 222, 283.

Napoleon, 57, 89, 119, 254, 270, 295, 304, 309-338, 355, 356, 380.

Napoleon III, 119, 328, 354-365.

National Printing Press, 378.

Nautae Stone, 12, 13, 88.

New Louvre, 361.

Notre Dame, Parvis de, 117, 216, 360.

Observatory, 270, 284.

Odéon, 289.

Opéra, 316, 362.

Palace: on the Cité; see Palais de Justice. of Deputies: see Palais Bourbon. of the Elysée, 282, 310, 337. Equality; see Palais Royal. of the Tribunate; see Palais Royal.

Palais: des Beaux-Arts, 212, 244, 308, 319, 350. Bourbon, 282, 331, 357. Grand, 379. de l’Industrie, 359.

des Invalides, 254, 271, 295, 337, 347, 357. de Justice, 9, 11, 34, 61, 71, 80, 94, 97, 100, 107, 124, 126, 128, 133, 138, 143, 150, 161, 170, 171, 173, 186, 194, 197, 211, 213, 215, 227, 228, 239, 270, 285, 290, 350, 371, 377. du Luxembourg, 253, 254, 303, 314, 371. Petit, 379. Royal, 6, 96, 252, 259, 261, 275, 276, 284, 290, 294, 346, 371, 381. des Thermes, 9, 12, 62, 198, 319, 350. du Trocadéro, 379. des Tuileries, 224, 229, 239, 246, 251, 269, 270, 281, 297, 299, 300, 306, 310, 316, 320, 322, 324, 326, 329, 332, 333, 335, 336, 337, 338, 340, 343, 348, 351, 358, 361, 363, 371, 375, 383.

Pantheon, 8, 21, 254, 283, 330.

Parc Monceau, 363.

Parisii, 2, 3.

Parloir aux Bourgeois, 144.

Pavilion of Hanover, 272.

Père Lachaise, Cemetery of, 58, 262, 319, 371.

Pharamond, 19, 124.

Philip I, 52, 54-56.

Philip Augustus, 47, 66, 68-89, 92, 99, 123, 142, 144, 149, 341, 348, 381.

Philip III, 105.

Philip IV, 89, 107-127, 129, 133, 144, 154.

Philip V, 127, 128, 144.

Philip VI, 128-133, 144.

Place: de la Bastille, 295, 344. du Carrousel, 269, 329, 341, 351, 361. du Châtelet, 360, 362. de la Concorde, 270, 281, 287, 302, 322, 330, 331, 349, 371, 375. Louis XV; see Place de la Concorde. de la Nation, 267, 348, 377. de la Révolution; see Place de la Concorde. du Trône, 267, 302, 348. Vendôme, 267, 276, 327, 328. des Victoires, 267, 311, 328.

Pont: Alexander III, 379. d’Arcole, 343. des Arts, 319. d’Austerlitz, 319. au Change, 66, 67. Grand, 66. d’Iena, 319. Neuf, 66, 118, 227, 239, 240, 286, 327. Notre Dame, 172, 195, 207, 240, 286. Petit, 38, 181, 195, 196, 285, 289.

Porte: de Buci, 181. Saint Antoine, 147, 185, 236, 262. Saint Denis, 236, 266. Saint Honoré, 184. Saint Jacques, 185. Saint Martin, 266.

Pré aux Clercs, 141.

Prefecture of Police, 56.

Quarter Saint Honoré, 251.

Quinze-Vingts, 96.

Regent, duke of Orleans, 274, 285.

Regents, Women, 90, 91.

Richelieu, 96, 238, 249-252, 254, 257, 258-260.

Robert the Pious, 30, 47, 49-52.

Robert the Strong, 41, 47.

Rollo, 37, 39, 40.

Saint Denis, 13, 49.

Sainte Geneviève, 5, 14, 18, 19, 20, 30, 39, 207, 232, 307.

Salpêtrière, 272.

School of Fine Arts; see Palais des Beaux Arts.

Sorbonne, 96, 202.

Strasburg Oath, 36.

Temple, 65, 119, 228, 301, 305, 318, 351, 376.

Théâtre Sarah Bernhardt, 362.

Tour de Nesle, 82, 83, 124, 127, 181, 204, 258.

Tower of Clovis, 21.

Tower of John the Fearless, 194, 290.

Tribunal of Commerce, 49, 362.

University of France, 35, 64, 78, 82, 98, 122, 145, 190, 192, 193, 202, 270, 320.

University of Paris; see Sorbonne.

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FOOTNOTES:

[1] Paraphrased by James Ravenel Smith.

[2] See illustration opposite page 116.

[3] From Longfellow’s “Poetry of Europe.”

[4] Translated by Louisa Stuart Costello.

[5] See Chapter VII.

[6] See Appendix.

[7] Since then the Archbishop of Paris has lived near the Invalides.

[8] See Appendix.

[9] See plan, Chapter XXII.

[10] Sole rulers in italics.

[11] Louis V left no children. The crown should have gone to his uncle, Charles, Duke of Lorraine, but the nobles elected Hugh Capet to be king (987).

[12] See Chronological Table of Rulers, page 394.