The last Papillon of whom we read in French history was one Denis-Pierre-Jean Papillon de la Ferté, intendant des Menus-plaisirs du Roi, who was born in 1727, and guillotined on the 7th of July, 1794, by the Republicans. Probably Thomas Papillon was a relative who managed to escape, or one of his descendants, as the arms are very similar, being thus blazoned by Guigard: D’azur, au chevron d’argent accompagné en chef de 2 Papillons d’or, et en pointe d’un coq hardi du même. The last charge being the only dissimilarity.
A short time since, a collector in Paris purchased a cover on which was a small mean-looking, printed book-label, under which showed the edges of another. On putting the cover to soak no less than three plates were found, the lowest one being as follows; an armorial plate, below the shield “Bibliothèque de Mr. de Villiers du Terrage, Pr. Commis des Finances.” This plate, signed Branche, had been covered during the revolutionary period by a simple typographical label, reading “Bibliothèque du Citoyen Marc-Etienne Villiers,” omitting all titles, and heraldic decorations, substituting the word “citoyen” in their place, and the whole surrounded by plain border lines.
Later on the book passed into other hands, and a still more humble plate was placed upon it, a small label having only the words “Bibliothèque Le Cauchoix Ferraud.” This democratic individual, who suppressed even the word “citoyen” on his label, does not live in history, nor would he have been mentioned here but that his poor little ticket probably saved two interesting plates from destruction.
“Ex libris Rihan de la Forest” with arms and coronet; then over that was a plain label with the simple inscription, “Ex libris la Forest”; that again covered by a lugubrious-looking plate, “Ex libris la Forest,” surmounted by a cap of liberty, on a pike, and “La liberté ou la mort” printed around it.
To these many others may be added, such as the ex-libris of “Le Prince de Beaufond,” which was altered to “Charles-Louis Le-prince,” and the elaborate heraldic book-plate of the Marquis de Fortia, which was covered by a simple printed label: “Ce livre fait partie de la bibliothèque de M. de Fortia d’Urban, demeurant à Paris, rue de la Rochefoucaud (sic), No. 21, division du Mont Blanc.”
M. Pigou covered his arms and coronet of a Marquis with a plain label in which the name Pigou was surrounded by a garland of roses.
But in those troubled times most men of any position had far more serious topics to occupy their minds than the planning of ex-libris for their books, and indeed the poor heraldic engravers found their business coming to an end, and one of them, M. Crussaire, finding himself without work, advertised that he would gladly execute “tout espèce de sujets sérieux ou agréables relatifs aux diverses circonstances de la Révolution, pour boites, bon-bonnières, boutons, medaillons.”
One of the last ex-libris belonging to the period of the First Republic, and carrying republican emblems, is that bearing the name of Adjudant Général Villatte, who was promoted to that rank on February 5, 1799. His plate bears the Roman fasces surmounted by the cap of liberty, and, oddly enough for a military man, a shepherd’s crook and hat, whilst two doves, or pigeons, complete this incongruous design.
From 1789 to the coronation of Napoleon I. as Emperor in 1804, the use of book-plates was considerably restricted.
Pauline Burghese, a sister of Napoleon, rose superior to heraldic or titular pretensions. She was a sister of Napoleon, that was enough, and her gift book-plate, dated 1825, is but a plain little label: