The church, dedicated to
Mild Margarete, that was God's maid;
Maid Margarete, that was so meke and mild,
is not of much importance. The popularity of S. Margaret was so great in the Middle Ages that it seems strange so little notice has been taken of her in Paris. Only think what a lovely dragon the sculptor of the monsters upon the towers of Notre-Dame would have contrived! We have only to look upon them to picture to ourselves the dreadful worm.
Maiden Margrete tho (then)
Loked her beside,
And sees a loathly dragon
Out of an hirn (corner) glide:
His eyen were ful griesly,
His mouth opened wide,
And Margrete might no where flee,
There she must abide.
Maiden Margrete
Stood still as any stone,
And that loathly worm,
To her-ward gan gone,
Took her in his foul mouth,
And swallowed her flesh and bone.
Anon he brast—(burst)
Damage hath she none!
Maiden Margrete,
Upon the dragon stood;
Blyth was her harte,
And joyful was her mood.[102]
The church of S. Marguerite is in the Rue S. Bernard, Faubourg S. Antoine. The chapel of the Souls in Purgatory is a curious composition by Louis, dated 1765; and still more curious was the burying, in 1737, of the tomb of Antoine Fayet, one of the curés, because of the indecent nudity of the white marble Angels, a piece of astounding prudery in that peculiarly indecent period of French history. Some pictures illustrative of the life of S. Vincent de Paul are remarkable from the truthfulness of the portraiture; they were formerly in the Lazarists' Church. A marble Descent from the Cross, designed by Girardon, and sculptured by his pupils Le Lorrain and Nourrisson for the church of S. Landry, found its way to S. Marguerite in 1817, where it accompanies another Descent painted upon wood, and very excellent in its way.
SAINT-MARTIN DES CHAMPS.
Situated upon the east side of a square which lies between the Rue S. Martin and the Boulevard Sabastopol is the Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers, formerly the rich priory of S. Martin. As its name indicates, it used to be surrounded by fields and gardens; now it is an oasis of antiquity, built up upon every side but the square with huge modern houses. Its old walls enclose a museum; its chapel contains hydraulic machines, and its refectory is a public library. One of the twenty or more turrets which surmounted the wall at intervals still remains; but the chapel of S. Michel, which old Nicolas Arrade founded in the 13th century as a tomb-house for himself and his descendants, the chapter-house, the tower, the Lady-Chapel, and several statues of royal personages, have all been demolished—not by Revolutionists, but by the latter-day monks, who also saw fit to rebuild their cloisters, and ornament them with handsome Doric columns. These acts of barbarism were perpetrated some hundred and fifty years ago. But in spite of adversity, S. Martin still gives us some idea of a conventual foundation, and in Paris it is the only one which has survived improvements by friend and foe. It still has its gate leading into a large courtyard, with church, refectory, and a portion of the cloisters.
Although the priory ranked after all the abbeys of Paris, it was well-nigh as important, and as rich. The prior enjoyed a revenue of 45,000 livres, and had the right of nomination to sixty benefices, twenty-nine priories, and many curacies and chapels.
The legend of S. Martin bestowing half his cloak upon a beggar is well known, and a frequent subject for painters. But he was given to other works of mercy, and one, healing the leper, is said to have taken place upon the site of this particular convent. S. Martin is the patron of soldiers. Born in the reign of Constantine the Great, at what is now Stain, in Hungary, Martin early became a Christian, but his parents being Pagans, he was not baptized until comparatively late in life. His father was a Roman soldier and tribune, and the son was enrolled in a cavalry legion. Obliged to leave his native country for Gaul, we find him in the year 332 quartered at Amiens; and here it was that he performed the act which has made him so famous in literature and art—the cutting of his cloak in two to clothe a starving beggar. His namesake, Martin Schoen, gives him such a voluminous mantle that one feels the act of cutting it in half to have been that of a highly-practical mind—enough for you, and enough for me. But other painters, on the contrary, depict the cloak as of such very small dimensions that one can only marvel that the Saint did not give it all to the beggar; for a portion of the garment could scarcely have benefited either party. This act brought him, however, praise from Heaven, and he hastened to receive baptism, being then twenty-three years of age. At forty he left the army, and was elected Bishop of Tours; and again we read of a similar story of clothing the naked, this time with his sacerdotal vestment during the celebration of mass.