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The Churches of Paris, from Clovis to Charles X
Another epitaph in the North aisle of the nave records the virtues and wisdom of Jacques-Bénigne Winslow, the anatomist and member of the Academy of Sciences, brought back from his evil and heretical ways by the preaching of Bossuet. Eustache Lesueur, the somewhat feeble painter of the Life of S. Bruno, was also buried at S. Étienne. Many other names adorn the list of those laid to rest in the churches or burial grounds of the parish: Vigenère, secretary to Henri III., 1598; the surgeon, Thognet, 1642; Antoine Lemaistre, and Lemaistre de Sacy, brought from Port Royal in 1710; the botanist, de Tournefort, 1708; Rollin, rector of the University, who died in 1741, in the Rue Neuve de Saint-Étienne du Mont, which was re-named after him.
But it is the glass of S. Étienne which is perhaps its chief glory. Although a great deal has been destroyed and patched up, much remains which is quite worthy of study, being, as it is, in the best style of the 16th and 17th centuries, and the work of Jean Cousin, Claude Henriet, d'Enguerrand Leprince, Pinaigrier, Michu, François Périez, Nicolas Desengives, Nicolas Lavasseur, and Jean Mounier. But, unhappily, mendings and patchings have quite destroyed our power of discovering to which artist the different windows are due. In the charnier there is a very curious composition, illustrating the allegory of the wine-press; our Lord lies upon the press in the presence of the Father and the Holy Spirit, bathed in a sea of blood, which flows from His side, His hands, and His feet. Underneath, the blood pours down through an opening into a large cask. Prelates and kings64 carry to a cellar those barrels which have been filled with the Sacred Blood by the Doctors of the Church; while, from under a rich Classic portico, we see the faithful flocking to confess their sins, and to receive the Holy Eucharist. In the distance, the Patriarchs are digging the ground and pruning the vines, while the Apostles gather in the vintage. S. Peter throws the grapes into a vat, and a chariot drawn by the Ox, the Lion, and the Eagle of the Apocalypse, and guided by the Angel of S. Matthew, carries the Divine vintage to the four quarters of the earth. Such is the allegory of the wine-press, the Pressoir mystique, the outcome of the verse of Isaiah: "I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the people there was none with me"; but, unfortunately for the correctness of the illustration, there is, in this window, a large concourse of people, great and small in worldly means and wisdom. The window is attributed to the Pinaigriers. Robert Pinaigrier had painted the subject for the church of S. Hilaire, at Chartres in 1530; and about a century later Nicolas Pinaigrier reproduced his father's design, with some modifications, at S. Étienne.
The emblem of the Precious Blood was adopted by many confraternities of wine merchants, which led Levieil to think that this window was given to the church by Jean le Juge, a very rich wine merchant. Sauval speaks of this subject being represented at S. Sauveur, at S. Jacques de la Boucherie, at the hospital of S. Gervais, and in the sacristy of the Célestins; and l'abbé Lebeuf notes a window in S. André des Arcs, representing Christ crushed like the grapes in a wine-press. The cathedral of Troyes and the church of S. Foy at Conches still possess windows of the same character.
The following verses describe this subject in quaint old French: —
"Heureux homme Chrestien si fermement tu crois Que Dieu pour te sauuer a souffert a la croix, Et que les Sacrements retenus à l'Eglise. De Son sang precieux ont eu commencement; Qu'en les bien receuant toute offence est remise, Et qu'on ne peut sans eux auoir son sauuement."In te Domine Speravi non confundar in aeternum.– PSAL. XXX.Non nobis Domine, non nobis sed nomini tuo da gloriam.– PSAL. CXIII."Les anciens patriarches Qui le futur ont sceu Pour leur Salut ne fu A cultiuer le Vigne. "Ce pressoir fut la Venerable croixOù le sang fut le Nectar de la Vie;Quel sang celuy par qui le roy des RoisRachepta lhomme et sa race asseruie. "Tous urais Chrestiens le doiuent receuoirAuec respect des Prebtres de l'Eglise,Mais il conuient premierement auoirL'ame constriste, et la coulpe remise. "Tous les cantons de ce large VniuersEn ont gusté par les EvangelistesEdifies ont esté les peruersLaissant d'Adam les anciennes pistes. "Dans les Vaisseaus en reserue il fut mis.Par les docteurs de l'Eglise, pour estreLe lauement de nos peches commis,Mesme de ceux qu'on a Venant a naitre. "Papes, Prelats, Princes, Rois, EmpereursL'ont au cellier mis avec reuerence,Ce Vin de vie efface les erreurs,Et donne a l'Ame une saincte esperance."This strange design reminds one somewhat of a little chapel near Partenkirchen, Tyrol. Up the hill is a Way of the Cross and at the summit a tiny chapel containing a life-size figure of our Lord, behind a grating. At his feet is a pool of water – I imagine with some miraculous powers; a cup fastened by a chain allows the passer-by to drink thereof. But the strange part is the supply of water which comes from our Lord's wounds, and fills the pool – symbolic of His being the living water, the well from which whosoever drinketh obtaineth everlasting life. The idea is somewhat materialistic and startling to the mundane dweller in cities, but to the simple-minded inhabitants of Tyrol it is full of poetry.
The oldest glass in S. Étienne is in the upper windows of the apse, representing the apparitions of Christ, to the disciples on the road to Emmäus, to the Magdalen, to S. Peter, and to the three Maries. In the western rose window the Eternal Father is vested in the insignia of the Pope, that common device of 16th century Ultramontanism. Far better is the design of a window on the north side of the nave: the Eternal Father seated in glory, with the book of the seven seals on His knees; the Lamb opens it, the four-and-twenty Elders sit around, and Angels pour the Divine anger from chalices upon the earth. The donors were evidently a large family, for they fill up all the lower part of the window, one behind the other, devoutly kneeling upon their knees. Some little scenes from the legend of S. Claude are charming in colour and design; so, too, are those from the life of the Virgin.
In one of the chapels of the nave we see a family repast, symbolising the wedding feast of the Gospel. The banquet is prepared, but the guests are not ready; one is going to fetch his wife, another takes an excursion to his country house, a third is inspecting a couple of oxen – but all beg to be excused.
The glass of S. Étienne was given by enthusiastic parishioners; indeed, so much rivalry took place amongst them, to fill the church with richly coloured windows, that the authorities were obliged to restrain their eagerness, and to point out that the bells, the porch, and other parts of the building required their aid.
It was at S. Étienne that Monseigneur Sibour, archbishop of Paris, was assassinated in 1857, during the neuvaine65 of S. Geneviève. The procession had travelled round the church, and was re-entering the nave, when the assassin, a discontented priest, rushed at the prelate and stabbed him. He was carried into the presbytery, but died soon after.
The main attraction of S. Étienne is the tomb of S. Geneviève. Long before the Panthéon ceased to be the church of the maid of Nanterre, it was to S. Étienne that the faithful journeyed to pray for her intercession, and to have their belongings laid upon her coffin. Here, any day, but especially during the octave of her fête, you may see people bringing handkerchiefs, rosaries, crosses, towels, etc., to be placed in the shrine, in order to carry the Saint's blessing and help to the sick and the suffering at home. The stone coffin is said to have been found in the crypt of the abbey church during its demolition in 1801, but whether it be the original one in which Saint Geneviève was buried in 511 it is impossible to say, as it is so surrounded by ornamental ironwork that its workmanship cannot be studied; but the effect of the little chapel containing this tombeau, with its lights and flowers and stained-glass, is very charming, and during the neuvaine, when the church is ablaze with candles, and hundreds of people font queue to the shrine, it is a sight not easily forgotten.
The history of this culte is elaborately worked out. S. Geneviève was buried, it is asserted upon pretty good authority, in the crypt of the old abbey church of the Holy Apostles.
When the Normans overran the country, the monks took up the body of their patroness, and carried it off to distant parts in a wooden box. Peace being restored, the religious went back to their abbey and repaired the various tombs, among others those of S. Prudence and S. Céran, Bishop of Paris; but the remains of S. Geneviève were not replaced in the stone coffin in which they had previously been laid. A splendid châsse was made for their reception, and until the Revolution, upon every occasion that the good citizens of Paris fell into any grievous trouble, the reliquary was carried about, up and down the "mountain," in and out of the tortuous streets, as a means of gaining the intercession of the patron Saint. And no less honoured was the empty tomb; the faithful paid their respects to that, after having visited the châsse.
In 1628, when Cardinal de La Rochefoucault began to restore the church, he covered the crypt with costly marbles. In the centre was the stone coffin of the Saint raised upon a few steps, enclosed by four columns and an iron grille. Right and left were the tombs of S. Prudence and S. Céran.
At the Revolution all was dispersed or destroyed, the châsse was turned into coin, the Saint's bones were burnt on the Place de Grève, and the tomb broken; but in 1802, when Amable de Voisins became curé of S. Étienne, he obtained permission from the archbishop, M. de Belloy, to translate the fragments of the stone coffin to S. Étienne, and to hold the festivals in the Saint's honour in that church.
During the Neuvaine thousands of persons crowd into the church to visit the shrine, a few in honour, many more in the dishonour of mere curiosity; and all round the church are to be seen the same class of itinerant vendors of goods as at the various fêtes and fairs. At some, they sell gingerbread, pop-guns, and penny trumpets; at others, and particularly at S. Étienne, their merchandise consists of rosaries, pious books, medals, and the like; it is a curious combination of the world and heaven – the flesh in the way of comfits, vin ordinaire and the devil – religious exercises and le bon Dieu. "Vous avez reçu le bon Dieu, Madame?" "Mais oui, Mademoiselle; et après, nous sommes allés, mon fils et moi, déjeûner au restaurant Voltaire," is the edifying conversation one hears in the omnibus. It is all on a par with the midnight mass and the Réveillon; Salvation Army drills, Mr. Howler's tabernacle, and the popular preacher over the wine vaults. Extremes meet, and people are much the same all the world over; for one earnest man or woman, you get a crowd of curiositymongers, whether the excitement be in Paris, or London, or Trèves, or Ober-Ammergau; unfortunately, there is not much salt in the earth, either Protestant, Catholic, or Agnostic. But if the salt is wanting, the waxen arms and legs and crutches are numerous enough. If you glance at S. Geneviève's shrine you will see bundles and bundles; and then we scoff. Are not they evidence that there is some faith left in the world, real earnest, trustful faith which believes all things, and hopes all things. And why not? Can anyone say whether it be more silly to take a journey, long or short, say some prayers, set up some tapers, present some flowers and a few pence, than to pin your faith upon pills and potions? In the one case the power of healing is believed to be in the hands of an all-merciful God who has promised to answer our prayers when so doing will be good for us; and in the other, it is thought to reside in pills which are worth twenty times their price, in nostrums which cure and prevent all the ills to which man is subjected, and in belts and bands and other such contrivances. The intercession of those who have gone before is asked by one set of believers; while the others pray Dr. Faith-Healer to cure them by letter, or Dr. Bread-and-Senna by his precious compound pills.
But how can S. Geneviève's bones be at S. Étienne when we know they were burnt on the Place de Grève? is a question answered by the Moniteur of 3 and 4 Frimaire, in the year II. (23rd and 24th November, 1793), which declares that the body was not entire; and we further know that previously, in olden time, relics of the Saint were distributed to many churches, the abbey of Chelles amongst others.
The ordinary offices at S. Étienne are in no way remarkable for splendour of ritual or of music, but one is worthy of notice – the Washing of the Feet in Holy Week. In spite of so-called uniformity, certain functions have a totally different aspect at the various churches. Take, for instance, the ceremonies of Holy Thursday, the Washing of the Feet, and the Distribution of the Bread and Wine. At many churches the priest who performs this function generally passes down in front of an array of old men and women; each receives a loaf and a bottle of wine, and that is all. But at S. Étienne it is a very quaint affair. A square portion of the nave is railed off; within sit the boys whose feet are to be washed, and upon a table are rows of loaves and bottles of wine. Then comes the curé, a tall, elegant-mannered man, and kneeling to each, he washes and wipes their feet, and then distributes the wine and bread. It is a very curious function; seeing all those boys taking off their boots in the middle of a church is most extraordinary; and then the quaint expressions, the keen curiosity or stupid dull gaze, the costumes and the surrounding audience, form a picture which is eminently quaint and queer.
SAINT-EUSTACHE
S. Eustache, often called by the ancestors of les dames de la Halle Notre-Dame des Halles, though by no means one of the oldest of Parisian churches, is, after the cathedral, the largest. In plan and arrangement it is Gothic, while its decorations and details are in the Renaissance style. It has double aisles, octagonal shafts, round-headed arches, and curvilinear tracery. It was finished in 1641, having been more than a century in building; but in spite of this, the original plan was carried out, and few churches that were so long in course of construction present so harmonious an appearance. Unfortunately, the west end, the towers of which were left unfinished, was sacrificed to the stupid taste of the 18th century; Mansard de Jouy and Moreau being allowed to replace what an old print shows to have been an interesting façade, in keeping with the rest of the church, by the heavy structure we all know, because, forsooth, the artistic gentlemen of the day found the original to be in a "goût barbare qui choquait les yeux!"
Père Du Breul (one of the Benedictines of S. Germain des Près), writing in 1612 in his Théâtre des Antiquités de Paris, speaks of the church as follows: "Ce sera un des plus beaux bâtiments de l'Europe, s'il peut être parfait comme il a été commencé; car rien n'y manque pour ce qui est de la perfection de l'architecture, soit pour le haut exhaussement, les fenêtres et ouvertures, et aussi l'enrichissement des diverses frises et moulures de toutes sortes et façons. Toutefois, pour la grande dépense qu'il y conviendrait faire, il est demeuré imparfait jusques à présent." To meet this grande dépense, the chancellor Séquier, and the Surintendant de finance, Claude de Bullion, supplied a considerable sum.
But a church existed upon the same site long before the foundation stone of the present building was laid by Jean de La Barre in 1532. Whether there is any truth in the tradition that the Romans erected a temple dedicated to Cybele upon the spot during the reign of Julian the Apostate, based probably upon the discovery of a large bronze head of the goddess at the entrance to the Rue Coquillière, there is no doubt that a chapel under the patronage of S. Agnes was built in the early ages of Christianity, for an account of its foundation is given by Gilles Corrozet, the first of the historians of Paris. It appears that a certain citizen named Jean Alais, in consideration of his help in financial matters, obtained from the king the right to levy a tax of a penny upon every basket of fish sold in the market. Remorse overtaking this modern publican, he begged his sovereign to revoke the tax; but the victims gained nothing by the repentance, as the privilege was accorded to another citizen, with an augmentation of the tax. Thereupon Alais, dying of remorse, was buried near the chapel he had founded in expiation of his sins, at the spot where a stream passed through the market. A large stone was placed hard by, which served as a bridge in time of rain and flood – hence, Pont Alais.
Thus the legend. But the chapel is mentioned for the first time in authentic documents of the year 1213, when it is described as situated on the vast territory belonging to S. Germain l'Auxerrois (the eldest daughter of Notre-Dame), at a little distance from the cemetery of the Holy Innocents, upon the road leading from the capital to Montmartre. Whoever may have been the founder, it is mentioned in this same year (1213) as a parish, for the curé appealed to the abbot of S. Geneviève, and the dean of Notre-Dame de Chartres, in the matter of a squabble between himself and the dean of S. Germain l'Auxerrois. Ten years later, it is called the church of S. Eustache, in a charter giving the sentence delivered by the bishop of Paris and two of his canons in another squabble between Simon, prestre de l'église Saint-Eustache, and the dean of S. Germain, who seems to have been of a combative temperament. This curé's name figures at the head of the list of rectors of the church, which ends with another of the same name, the grand abbé Simon who was seized by the Communists, and all but received martyrdom with Archbishop Darboy and the curé of the Madeleine, Duguerry. L'abbé Le Beuf records the increase of population, and the necessary want of a larger church; consequently some relics of S. Eustache preserved at S. Denis were brought to Paris, and became the reason for the substitution of the Roman warrior for the gentle maiden Agnes as patron of the church. But later, the two Saints were combined in the patronage, probably from the crypt under the Lady Chapel bearing Agnes' name – a crypt that would be more truthfully called a cellar, from the use it is, or was, put to by a neighbouring fruiterer. The lease may have run out lately, in which case it now belongs to the church; as the clergy had determined to regain possession as soon as possible.
What appearance the first church presented, we know not, but in 1429 the high altar was advanced a foot into the chancel, and the altar of S. Gregory destroyed, to make a passage to the crypt of S. Agnes. In 1434, the church was enlarged "pour la multiplication du peuple"; and again in 1466, an addition required the demolition of the greater part of a house in the Rue de Séjour (now Rue du Jour), next to the Hôtel de Royaumont. Thirty years later the bishop gave the churchwardens a little piece of ground situated at the corner of Pont-Alais, in the Rue Montmartre, in order to extend the building still farther.
Here a slight digression may not be out of place to relate the legend of S. Eustache, whose fête day occurs on September 20th, a day, among several others, when the church is visited by crowds, some of whom go to pray, and others to hear the exquisite music for which S. Eustache is famous. When the 20th falls on a weekday, the festival is transferred to the following Sunday.
S. Eustache was a Roman soldier and captain of the guards of the Emperor Trajan. His name in early life was Placidus, and he had a beautiful wife and two fine sons. He lived in great style, practised all the heathen virtues, notably those of charity and loyalty, and was not only a brave warrior, but withal, a great huntsman. Now it happened one day, while sporting in the forest, that a beautiful white stag appeared before him, having a cross of radiant light between its horns, and on the cross an image of the Redeemer. Being astonished and dazzled by the vision, he fell upon his knees, and lo! a voice came from the crucifix and cried to him: "Placidus, why pursuest thou Me? I am Christ, whom thou hast hitherto served without knowing Me? Dost thou now believe?" And Placidus fell with his face upon the ground and said, "Lord, I believe!" And the voice said: "Thou shalt suffer many tribulations for my sake, and shalt be tried by many temptations; but be strong and of good courage, I will not forsake thee." To which Placidus replied, "Lord, I am content. Give thou me but patience to suffer!" And when he looked up again, the wondrous vision had faded away. Then he arose and returned to his wife, and the next day the whole family was baptised, Placidus adopting the name of Eustatius.
But it came about as was foretold by the vision. All his possessions were spoiled by robbers, and his beautiful and loving wife was taken away by pirates; poverty stared him in the face, and affliction pursued him. Then one day, as he wandered forth with his children, he came to a swollen river which he was obliged to cross; and being troubled as to his means of fording the torrent, he took one child in his arms and swam across, leaving the other on the bank. Having placed the little one in a safe nook, he returned for the other; but when in mid-stream he saw a wolf come out of the forest, and carry off one child, while a lion appeared upon the opposite bank, and seizing the other babe, carried it off and made away with it! Then the wretched father tore his hair and gave way to weeping and lamentations; but remembering his promise to suffer for Christ's sake, he dried his tears and prayed for patience and resignation. So he came to a village where he lived peacefully for fifteen years by the labour of his hands; but at the end of that time, the Emperor Adrian being on the throne, sent out messengers to all parts of the Empire to seek for Placidus, as he had need of him; and at length they found him, and he was restored to his former position, and led his troops to victory. But although the Emperor loaded him with honours and wealth, his heart was sad for the loss of his wife and children. Meanwhile the latter had been rescued from the jaws of the wolf and the lion, and his wife had escaped from the hands of the pirates; so it came about, after many years, that they all met again and were re-united; and Eustace said in his heart: "Surely all my sorrows are now at an end." But it was not so; for the Emperor desiring to celebrate a mighty victory over the Barbarians by a great sacrifice to the gods, and Eustace and his family refusing to offer incense, they were shut up in a brazen bull, and a fire being kindled under it, they all perished together. Such is the legend, which, like all the stories of the lives of Saints and early martyrs, shows forth the steadfastness with which they clung to their faith, and the simplicity with which they practised the virtues of fortitude, patience, resignation, and courage. There is a certain similarity between the legend of S. Eustace and that of S. Hubert; but in art they are easily distinguished, as the former is in Classic or warrior costume, and the latter is represented either as a huntsman or a priest. Pictures of S. Eustace are not uncommon; in the Pitti Palace there is one by Soggi; and somewhere I have seen one by Domenichino. The traditional date of the martyrdom of S. Eustace is 118, which is much earlier than that of the other patron of the church, the simple maiden Agnes, who suffered in 304, and whose fête day is January 21st. The legend of this Saint is one of the most authentic, and one of the oldest, being mentioned by S. Jerome, in the 4th century, as popular throughout the world. Hymns and homilies had been written in her honour from the earliest times; and her youth and beauty, added to her innocence, had combined to invest her person with a charm and a fascination which few of the Saints possess.