Old and New Paris: Its History, Its People, and Its Places, v. 1

by H. Sutherland Edwards

THE Rue Saint-Denis is by ancient tradition, and still in the present day, as a matter of fact, the favourite abode of the French bourgeois. Our aldermen have long ceased to live in the City, and a John Gilpin of our own time, wherever his place of business might be, would have his private residence at Clapham or Brixton, at Holloway or Highgate. The Paris tradesman, however, still lives, like the M. Jourdain in Molière’s “Bourgeois Gentilhomme,” above his shop; and his shop, in a good many typical cases, is, as it was two centuries ago, in the Rue Saint-Denis. “La Grande Rue Saint-Denis” the street was formerly called; and, as it is upwards of three-quarters of a mile long, it may be said to deserve its name. It is even now the most central and the most commercial street in Paris. According to Sanval, one of the many historians of the French capital, it is the street par excellence of all Paris. Voltaire, on the other hand, detested this street, and had good reasons for doing so. One day, when he was but seventeen years of age, he found himself by chance in the Rue Saint-Denis, with his purse well filled, at the very moment when an auctioneer was selling the goods of an unfortunate man who had not been able to pay his taxes. A carriage, with two horses, and the livery of the indispensable footmen, was put up, and in a sudden fit of wildness, the young philosopher, not yet philosophical, purchased the lot. The coachman, who was looking on, offered his services, which the youthful Voltaire at once accepted. “Put in the horses and get {312} up on the box,” he said; and the schoolboy, who had just left the Jesuits’ College, was seen driving along the Rue Saint-Denis; not, however, for any length of time. The coachman he had engaged, an awkward fellow, managed, at the corner of the street, to upset the carriage. Voltaire’s ardour now subsided and he lost no time in getting rid of his newly-acquired equipage. The Rue Saint-Denis, in consequence, no doubt, of this accident, had made a bad impression on Voltaire; and in after days he never spoke of it without sarcasm.

The Rue Saint-Denis was originally nothing but a highway leading to the Abbey of Saint-Denis; and one of its frequenters is said to have been that very Saint Denis whose name it was afterwards to bear. The highway, thanks to its central position, was soon lined with houses, and before long every house in the street had its shop. Along this great thoroughfare the kings and queens of France passed in returning from their coronations; and it was by the same road that they proceeded to their last resting-place. The Rue Saint-Denis became at once the central line of communication and the central commercial street of Paris. Then it was that the name of “La Grande Rue Saint-Denis” was given to it—a title it well might bear even in the present day.

The Rue Saint-Denis connects the quarter of the “halles,” or public markets, with the Bonne Nouvelle quarter. After crossing the Rue Saint-Honoré the Rue Saint-Denis breaks off on the left, interrupted by the Square of the Innocents, in the centre of which stands the fountain of the same name. This square replaces the Market of the Innocents abolished in 1860. The fountain dates from the thirteenth century, having been repaired in 1550 by Pierre Lescot, with Jean Goujon for his assistant. Despite the many alterations and modifications it has undergone, the fountain is still remarkable for a certain nobility and grace. But the five water-nymphs of Jean Goujon, worn by the rays of the sun and by the spray of the cascade, show signs of decay; and it has been proposed to replace them by copies, while preserving the originals in the Louvre.

A little higher up on the right is the Church of Saint-Leu-Saint-Gilles, founded in 1235, and raised to the position of parish church in 1617. It has been so often repaired and reconstructed that very little of the original building remains. The church possesses a portrait of Saint-François de Salles, painted after his death by Philippe de Champagne, and a picture of the year 1772, embodying the legend of {313} the soldier who was burnt in 1415 for having stabbed with his knife an image of the Virgin which stood at the corner of the Rue aux Ours, now known as Rue de la Bourse. The image, according to the tradition, shed blood in atonement for the soldier’s profanity. An expiatory festival, which lasted three days, used to be celebrated up to the time of the Revolution.

It was in the Church of Saint-Leu-Saint-Gilles that an heroic priest dared, in 1793, at the height of the Reign of Terror, to say a mass for the soul of the Princesse de Lamballe immediately after her execution.

Here, too, George Cadoudal, the Vendean chief, pursued by the police, concealed himself for several days in one of the subterranean tombs. Cadoudal was the son of a farmer. But like all classes in La Vendée, he was devoted to the Monarchy, and joined one of the first bands formed during the Reign of Terror to fight against the Revolution. After the defeat of the principal corps, Cadoudal was arrested and imprisoned at Brest. He made his escape, however, and soon became one of the most formidable leaders of the rebellion in Brittany, known as that of the Chouans—so called from their cry of recognition resembling that of the screech-owl or chouette. In 1796 he surrendered to Hoche, and was pardoned on condition of not again bearing arms against the Republic. This, however, did not prevent him from heading a new insurrection in 1799. Again defeated, he was received in conference by General Brune, and was once more released on the same conditions as before. The First Consul wished to take him into his service, but Cadoudal would listen to no offers from one whom he regarded as a usurper. He now, in the year 1800, left France for England, where he received, with congratulations on the part of the English Government, the rank of lieutenant-general and the Grand Cordon of Saint Louis, the commission and the decoration being both handed to him by the Count of Artois in the name of Louis XVIII.

After many vain attempts to bring about a new insurrection in the west of France, he resolved to attack Bonaparte’s Government in Paris itself, and sent on one of his officers, Saint-Régent, to prepare the way for him. He afterwards denied all complicity in Saint-Régent’s plot against Bonaparte’s life. “He was at Paris,” said Cadoudal, “in obedience to my orders, but I never ordered him to construct and employ his infernal machine.” Cadoudal was in Brittany at the time. But closely pursued, he was advised once more to take refuge in England, where, with Pichegru and the Count of Artois, he prepared another plot against the First {314} Consul, who was now to be arrested and carried away.