CHANTILLY

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Mary Stuart
at the age of nine years
from the drawing in the Musée Condé at Chantilly.

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C H A N T I L L Y
IN   HISTORY   AND   ART

BY LOUISE M. RICHTER
(MRS. J. P. RICHTER)


WITH PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRATIONS



LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.
1913

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All Rights Reserved{v}

TO MY DEAR FRIEND

MRS.   LUDWIG   MOND

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED

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PREFACE

My first visit to Chantilly was in April 1904, when the Exhibition of the French Primitives at the Pavillon Marsan, following close on that at Bruges, raised interest and comment far outside the boundaries of France. I visited the Musée Condé with the intention of studying some more examples of the French fifteenth-and sixteenth-century art which had so much attracted me in Paris.

The high expectations I had conceived were not disappointed, and the result was that my studies in that marvellous collection were prolonged. Weeks grew into months. The Limbourgs, Jean Fouquet, and the Clouets held me in their spell; the Château of Chantilly, with the history of its famous owners, aroused my interest more and more.

Through the great courtesy of the late M. Anatol Gruyer and of M. Gustave Macon, Directors of the Musée Condé, I was given access to all the art-treasures within its walls and I was allowed to while away my time with the famous miniatures and drawings and with the pictures in which I was so much interested. Tranquil and undisturbed, often quite alone, meeting now and then only the furtive glance of one or other of the Museum attendants, who were always ready at hand to be of service, I was enabled to pursue my studies without interruption, owing to the great kindness of my friend M. Macon. The excellent Library, too, was at my disposal, as well as the manuscripts in the Cabinet des Livres.

Nor was that all. When at the end of the day the Museum doors were closed I could walk in the vast park of the Château along its shady avenues and watch the swans gliding on the silent waters, whilst the autumn leaves were the sport of the varying breezes. In that unbroken solitude Time, now long past, brought before me once more kings and queens, courtiers and warriors, ladies of beauty and fame: and amid my reveries I seemed to recognise the well-known faces whose representations I had just left in the galleries within. For was it not here, in these woods and on these lakes, that they had lived and feasted in the manner recorded in the chronicles of their time?

Thus, irresistibly attracted by degrees, I conceived the idea of writing about the history and the art at Chantilly: and I undertook a task which grew gradually in my hands to dimensions that at first I had not anticipated.

My chief study, as mentioned above, was intended to be on the French fifteenth-and sixteenth-century artists which the Duc d’Aumale so successfully collected. To the Italian and the Northern Schools and the later French periods at the Musée Condé I have purposely given but a passing mention, since they are equally well or better represented in other galleries.

The Bibliography which I have appended shows that much has been written on early French Art in France, especially during the last fifteen years; and I feel greatly indebted to authors such as Comte Leopold Delisle, Comte Paul Durrieu, MM. George Lafenestre, Anatol Gruyer, Louis Dimier, Gustave Macon, Moreau Nelaton, Sir Claude Phillips, Mr. Roger Fry and others, by whose works I have greatly profited, as also by my husband’s expert knowledge. But no book exactly covering this ground has as yet been written in the English language.

More than special acknowledgment and thanks are due to Mr. Robert H. Hobart Cust for his help and valuable suggestions. In the arduous task of revising the proofs of this book he was assisted by my son Mr. F. J. P. Richter. I have also great pleasure in expressing my deep gratitude to my dear friend Mrs. Ludwig Mond, whose constant encouragement was of inestimable value to me.

I am indebted to Mr. Murray for the personal interest he has so kindly shown in the many details which this work entails.

Louise M. Richter.

London, October 1913.

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CONTENTS

LIST OF PLATES

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AUTHORITIES CONSULTED

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FIRST PART

CHANTILLY AND ITS HISTORY

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CHAPTER I

CHANTILLY AND ITS OWNERS

The Montmorencys

THE Château of Chantilly, now known as the Musée Condé, the magnificent gift so generously bequeathed to the French nation by the late Duc d’Aumale, has experienced great changes and passed through many vicissitudes.

At a very early date a Gallo-Roman, by name Cantillius, fixed his abode upon an isolated rock, in the midst of wild forest and marshland; hence the name of Chantilly.

In the ninth century we find established here the Seigneurs of Senlis, who bore the name of Bouteillers, from their hereditary task of wine-controllers to the Kings of France—an honorary post which they held for some centuries. But the last scion of that sturdy race, having seen his castle pillaged during the Jacquerie of 1358, died without issue.

After changing hands through three decades, Chantilly in 1386 became the property of Pierre d’Orgemont, Chancellor to Charles V of France, who laid the foundations of an imposing feudal fortress, flanked by seven stately towers.{004}

Several centuries later a change again occurred in the ownership of Chantilly. By default of male issue it passed into the possession of Jean II, Baron de Montmorency, who married Marguerite, sole heiress of the Orgemonts; and with this illustrious family Chantilly emerged from comparative obscurity into historical fame. Henceforth it became a favourite centre for the leading men of France, and within its hospitable walls kings and princes found sumptuous entertainment.

Matrimonial alliance in the beginning of the seventeenth century brought the property into the family of the Condés, a younger branch of the Bourbons; and later still, by the marriage of the last Prince de Condé with Princesse Bathilde d’Orléans, and the tragic death of their only son, the Duc d’Enghien, Chantilly passed into the possession of its last private owner, Prince Henri d’Orléans, Duc d’Aumale.

The family of the Montmorencys was well known and famous in France during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, but became extinct under Richelieu, who, for reasons of state, sent the last scion of that race, Henri de Montmorency, to the scaffold.

Plate II.

Photo. Giraudon.

GUILLAUME DE MONTMORENCY.
Attributed to J. Perréal.
Musée Condé.

Guillaume, son of Jean de Montmorency, who married the heiress of Chantilly, joined in an expedition to Italy under Charles VIII of France. There are portraits of him in the Louvre, and at Lyons, whilst a fine crayon drawing representing him in his younger days is to be found in the portfolios of the{005} Musée Condé. He it was who, in 1515, constructed the Chapel of the Château, obtaining from Pope Leo X a bull for its foundation. He married Anne de Pot, and their eldest son was the famous Anne de Montmorency, known as the Grand Connétable. Queen Anne of Brittany held him at the baptismal font, conferring upon him her own name, and he was educated with the Duc d’Angoulême, afterwards King Francis I.

Anne de Montmorency in early youth distinguished himself by artistic taste, probably acquired at the Court of Louise of Savoy, mother of Francis I. No sooner had he succeeded his father as Lord of Chantilly than he endeavoured to create a mansion more in accordance with the refined taste of his time. Without demolishing the fortifications and the stately towers of the Orgemonts, he succeeded in introducing more light into the mediæval chambers by piercing their walls with large windows. He hung the interior of the castle with tapestries, and furnished it richly with the artistic spoils of his expeditions into Italy. He also commenced the formation of the famous Library, subsequently continued by the Condés until it reached the fame which it enjoyed under its latest owner, the Duc d’Aumale.

Under the Grand Connétable’s directions were executed the forty-four painted glass windows still at Chantilly. They illustrate the legend of Cupid and Psyche after cartoons by the school of Raphael,{006} and were produced in France about 1546 by Jean Mangin and Leonard Gautier.

Montmorency’s artistic tastes, however, did not prevent him from being the greatest warrior of his time. Together with his maternal uncles, Gouffier de Boissy and Gouffier de Bonnivet, he was numbered among the so-called Preux who fought victoriously by the side of King Francis I, at the Battle of Marignan. He followed the King to Pavia, where he was made a prisoner with his Royal master, and in 1530 he was at Bayonne, to negotiate the release of the young Princes of Valois, who had been kept as hostages by the Emperor Charles V. After the Peace of Madrid he again fought against the Imperial troops in Picardy, and it was upon this occasion that he received the title of “Great Constable” of France.

In spite, however, of his great prowess he fell into disgrace with the King through the intrigues of Madame d’Estampes. As in the case of the Connétable de Bourbon, Francis I, ever fickle in his friendships, became so jealous of Montmorency’s fame that the latter was obliged at last to retire to Chantilly; where he employed his time in improving this favourite abode. He constructed on an island close to the older feudal castle, the fine Renaissance palace known as the Petit-Château, which by some miracle has remained almost intact to this day. It is probable that Jean Bullant, the architect of Ecouen, was consulted with regard to this Petit-Château at Chantilly, for the style of its architecture marks the{007} transition between the mediæval Gothic and the period of the French Renaissance, and ranks it with buildings such as the châteaux of Chambord, Chenonceaux, d’Azay le Rideau, and Langeais.[1]

Plate III.

THE CHÂTEAU DE CHANTILLY.

This style, according to Viollet-le-Duc, grew up like the beech-trees and the willows near the Loire, and—as in the case of Chantilly—is often found side by side with feudal castles of a much older period; the owners of which, apparently unwilling to demolish their ancestral homes, preferred at the same time to occupy more modern and commodious residences.

The chief distinction between the French and Italian Renaissance is that the former is less conventional and offers less regularity of style in its building. It is a style that reached its climax in the châteaux of Blois and Chambord, each of which preserves some characteristics of the nobles who erected them, although the names of the actual architects, in spite of their undoubted creative skill, remain for the most part unknown. Such is the case with the Petit-Château of Chantilly.

Anne de Montmorency was an intimate friend of Diane de Poitiers, the friend and mistress of Henri II. This lady was owner of the Château of Clemonceaux, which no doubt served as a model to Montmorency when erecting his own new palace. The complete absence of documents with regard to this structure is greatly to be regretted, but the{008} supposition that Jean Bullant, who was in constant relation with Pierre des Iles, known as “Maçon” of Chantilly, had a hand in its erection, as stated above, is by no means unreasonable. It is an architectural gem, and provoked the admiration of Leonardo da Vinci and Benvenuto Cellini, who both enjoyed hospitality within its walls.

Anne de Montmorency was created Duke by Henri II, and after the sudden death of that King he succeeded in securing the goodwill of Francis II and Charles IX. Queen Catherine de Medicis cordially disliked him, but nevertheless endeavoured to use him as a tool against the Huguenot Louis I de Bourbon, Prince de Condé.

In 1562 he won the battle of Dreux against Condé and Coligny, and he routed them again in 1567 at Saint-Denis, though at the sacrifice of his own life; for he was severely wounded, and died shortly afterwards in Paris.

Anne de Montmorency at various stages of his life is presented in a series of French drawings, dating from 1514, as a Preux de Marignan, down to his old age. There also exists a drawing of his wife Madeleine de Savoie. By a fortunate coincidence these drawings—of which we shall speak later on—have found their way back to Chantilly. In the stained-glass windows of the chapel, painted in 1544, may be seen portraits of his numerous children executed by Bardon after still-existing cartoons by Lechevallier Chevignard. In order to complete the family the Duc d’Aumale commissioned the artist{009} Guifard to add on the walls of the same chapel portraits of the great Constable and his wife.

Photo. Giraudon.

ANNE DE MONTMORENCY.
François Clouet.
Musée Condé.

After the death of Anne de Montmorency, his eldest son François became Lord of Chantilly. He married Diane de France, whose portrait is also amongst the drawings in this collection. She was a natural daughter of Henri II, and widow, at the early age of eighteen, of Orazio Farnese, Duca di Castro. Brantôme says of her that it was not possible to see a lady mount on horseback like her, nor with better grace. The woods of Chantilly offered great opportunities to her passion for the chase, and it was probably for this reason that, in the company of her mother-in-law, Madeleine of Savoy, she made it her principal residence. Diane, so called after her godmother Diane de Poitiers, was a great favourite with her royal brothers, and after the death of her husband became known by the title of “Duchesse d’Angoulême.” Since she was childless, François de Montmorency was succeeded by his brother Henri, who distinguished himself as one of the strongest opponents of the Ligue. He, too, was created Constable, and subsequently assisted Henri IV in the reconquest of his kingdom. His second wife, Louise de Budos, died at the early age of twenty-three, soon after giving birth to a son and heir, called Henri after his father. Their elder child, a daughter, Charlotte, was renowned for her beauty; and Lord Herbert of Cherbury—who in his Memoirs describes Chantilly at that period—expressed a wish for her{010} portrait in order that he might show it to the Queen of England. Invited by Henri de Montmorency to make a lengthened stay at Chantilly, he was so enchanted that he calls it “an incomparably fine residence, admired by the greatest princes of Europe.” He relates that the Emperor Charles V was received by the first Duc de Montmorency, Anne, the Grand Connétable, whilst on his way across France from Spain to the Netherlands; and that after that monarch had examined the castle with its moats, bridges, and extensive forests, he was so overcome with admiration that he said he would gladly give one of his provinces in the Netherlands for this unsurpassable residence.

Lord Herbert further discourses upon the hangings of silk adorned with gold, and of the pictures, statues, and works of art in the sumptuous chambers of the Château. He also mentions the huge carp and trout in the ponds, and the merry hunting parties attended along the avenues by packs of hounds.

Another great admirer of Chantilly was Henri IV, who was on terms of intimate friendship with Henri de Montmorency. This King was even accustomed to visit Chantilly during the absence of its owner, and had his own apartments there and his own garden, the so-called Jardin du Roy, of which he enjoyed superintending the arrangements.

There was, however, another reason for his numerous surprise visits: no less an object than Charlotte, Duke Henry’s beautiful daughter. Bereft{011} of her mother, as we have seen, at an early age, she was presented at the French Court by her aunt, the Duchesse d’Angoulême, and her beauty, as described by Bentivoglio, seems to have been of so irresistible a charm that it made a deep impression on the fancy of the gallant King. So great indeed was the admiration which he displayed for the young Charlotte de Montmorency that it became a matter of public notoriety, and throws a curious light upon the famous personages of that period and their morals.

Although Charlotte had not yet attained her fifteenth year, a marriage had been arranged for her with the brilliant Bassompière, at that time a great favourite with the King. His Majesty had given his consent to the marriage; but he nevertheless one day made the following proposals to Bassompière: “Listen! I wish to speak to you as a friend. I am in love with Mademoiselle de Montmorency, and that even madly. If you marry her and she loves you, I should hate you; if she loved me, she would hate you. Now, for the sake of our mutual friendship, it would be better that this marriage should not take place, for I love you with real affection and inclination. I have therefore resolved to arrange a marriage between Mademoiselle de Montmorency and my nephew the Prince de Condé in order to keep her near me. She will thus be the consolation of my old age. To my nephew, who prefers the chase to the ladies, I shall give 100,000 francs a year and claim nothing for it in{012} return but the affection of the newly-married couple!” After this confession, poor Bassompière understood that he had better comply with the King’s wishes, and the fair Charlotte was therefore married to Henri II de Bourbon, third Prince de Condé. The wedding was celebrated at Chantilly with much pomp, and the King lavished splendid jewels and rich dresses upon his new niece, making no secret of the admiration he cherished for her. He spoke of it as only a fatherly affection; but in spite of his good intentions his fancy took the character of so violent a passion that he could not control it. Condé, not insensible to what was going on, purposely retired to his remotest country-seats so as to protect his wife from the gallantries of the King; but, unable to endure her absence, Henri appeared disguised as a falconer at one of the hunting parties, whereupon Charlotte, who was present, fainted on recognising him. His distress at being separated from his “bel ange” was so great that even the Queen, Marie de Medicis, took pity on him, and entreated Condé to return with his charming wife to Court, and Malesherbes sang the amours of the King in glowing love-poems. Condé, considering the honour of his young wife at stake, carried her off instead to the Netherlands, on a visit to his sister the Princess of Orange. When the King heard of this he was furious, and asserted that the charming Princess had been compelled to leave her country by force. He sent a captain of his own Guard to explain the matter to{013} the Archduchess Isabella, at that time Governess of the Netherlands, whilst Chaussé, a police official, was ordered to follow up the fugitives and prevent their reaching Belgium. Chaussé actually overtook the Princess, who, having been obliged to leave her carriage near the River Somme, had broken down after a fifteen hours’ ride on horseback.

Plate V.

HENRI II DE BOURBON, PRINCE DE CONDÉ. GENEVIÈVE DE BOURBON.
Musée Condé.

But we cannot digress here to pursue this love-affair of Henri IV and Charlotte de Montmorency. Suffice it to say that, transferred to foreign territory, it immediately became a cause célèbre, and even threatened for a time to create serious political disturbances between France and Spain. The fact that the Regent of the Netherlands, in order to please both parties, allowed the Princesse de Condé to prolong her visit to the Princess of Orange but at the same time ordered her husband to leave the Netherlands within three days, was severely commented upon by the Marchese Ambrogio di Spinola, at that time representative at Brussels of the Spanish Court.

This valiant captain, originally a Genoese merchant, had equipped 9,000 men at his own cost, and with them had succeeded—where so many had failed—in confronting Prince Maurice of Nassau and terminating the siege of Ostend. Reduced after this exploit to comparative inactivity, he hailed an opportunity likely to bring about a conflict between personages of such importance as Henri IV of France and the King of Spain.

There was, moreover, another motive for Spinola’s pertinacity in retaining the Princesse de Condé in{014} the Netherlands in spite of the most urgent entreaties of the gallant King. He himself was also suspected of having become enamoured of that dangerous beauty, and he alleged that it was quite against Spanish etiquette that Henri II de Bourbon, Prince de Condé, a Prince of the Blood Royal of France, should not have received the honours due to his rank while passing through the Netherlands. Condé, who, leaving his young wife with the Princess of Orange, had already departed to Cologne, was therefore recalled. He saw his wife, and received a gracious welcome from the Archduchess and the Prince and Princess of Orange; and then, accompanied by his secretary, in a violent snowstorm and under Spanish escort, he left for Milan, secretly determined to seek the assistance of Philip II, King of Spain, against the grievous wrong done to him by Henri IV.

The gallant King enjoyed the rôle of Lancelot, and the fair Charlotte was rather proud of his attentions, so that their amours became a subject of discussion and comment throughout the whole of Europe. It was even alleged that Henri IV was preparing for war against the Netherlands to obtain by force the return of the Princesse de Condé, held in bondage by the Archduchess Isabella in Flanders. This, however, was in truth but a pretext on the part of the King; for in spite of the libertinism in which His Majesty indulged on this occasion, and which seemed for the moment to overcloud his sense of right and wrong, we must remember that{015} Henri IV always proved himself a patriot, and one whose constant endeavour it was to advance the welfare of France. We may, therefore, surmise with the late Duc d’Aumale that it was chiefly his desire to liberate Europe from the Austrian yoke, and thus give to France the position he wished her to hold—not merely the beaux yeux of the Princesse de Condé—which actually induced him to prepare for war. Nevertheless he so successfully frightened the Archduchess Isabella that she agreed to let the Princess depart at last.

In the midst, however, of all these unsolved problems Henri IV was suddenly struck down by the hand of Ravaillac, and as soon as the news reached Condé, who was already on his way to Spain, he immediately returned to France and made a temporary truce with the Regent, Marie de Medicis. But to his wife he seemed unforgiving, requesting her father, Henri de Montmorency, to keep her at Chantilly.{016}

CHAPTER II

CHANTILLY AND THE CONDÉS

THE family of Condé derived their origin from the French town Henegau, in Flanders, where a certain Godefroy de Condé owned part of the barony of Condé as early as 1200. In 1335 his great-granddaughter married Jacob de Bourbon, who in due course became the ancestor of the Royal branch of the Bourbons. His second son received for his inheritance the barony of Condé, and it was one of his descendants, Louis de Bourbon, who eventually took the title of “Prince de Condé.” This Louis was one of the many sons of the Duc de Vendôme, only surviving brother of the famous Constable, Charles de Bourbon, who met a premature death at the Sack of Rome in 1527: a turbulent spirit who caused Henry VIII to say to Francis I, “Mon frère de France a là un sujet dont je ne voudrais pas être le maître.”

Plate VI.

Photo. Giraudon.

ANTOINE DE BOURBON. CHARLOTTE DE LA TREMOILLE.
School of François Clouet. School of François Clouet.
Musée Condé

To face page 26.

The eldest brother Antoine de Bourbon, by his marriage with Jeanne d’Albret (daughter of Marguerite, sister of Francis I), became King of Navarre; and their son, Henri IV, succeeded to the throne of France on the death of Henri III de{017} Valois. Louis de Bourbon, first Prince de Condé,[2] married Eleonore de Roye, granddaughter of Louise de Montmorency, a sister of the famous Constable Anne and mother of the Huguenot chief, Gaspard de Coligny. It was no doubt owing to the influence of his wife Eleonore—so named after the second wife of Francis I—that the Prince de Condé embraced the Protestant cause, and was thenceforward regarded by the Huguenots as one of their leaders. Eleonore was on terms of great intimacy with her sister-in-law, Jeanne d’Albret, Queen of Navarre, who had herself become a Protestant; and one may fairly assert that if Antoine de Bourbon, King of Navarre, and his brother Louis de Condé, had in any way equalled their noble wives in pious sentiment and religious fervour, the Protestant Faith in France would never have been nipped in the bud, but would have become as firmly established there as it did in England and Germany.

As it was, the Guises of Lorraine who embraced the Catholic cause gained considerable ground after the death of Henri II, through their cousin Mary Stuart, Queen of France; and with the ostensible object of furthering this cause, they also tried to supplant the Bourbon Princes, Antoine de Navarre and Louis de Bourbon Condé, who were by right nearer the throne. The latter during the reign of Francis II was thrown into prison for high treason, under a false accusation{018} brought against him by the Guises, and condemned to death. In her despair, his unhappy wife, Eleonore, threw herself upon her knees before the King, imploring permission for a last interview. The young King was about to relent; but the Cardinal of Lorraine, fearing that she might attain her object, drove her roughly from the Royal presence. The unscrupulous Guises had even conceived a plan of making away with this Princess before her husband; for (as a contemporary writer tells us) they feared her intellect and courage in proclaiming her husband’s innocence. They hoped to get rid, not only of her, but also of the King of Navarre and the Châtillons. But at this juncture a change occurred in political affairs.

Plate VII.

Photo. Giraudon.

LOUIS I. DE BOURBON, PRINCE DE CONDÉ. HENRI I. DE BOURBON, PRINCE DE CONDÉ.
School of François Clouet. School of François Clouet.
Musée Condé.

Francis II, whose health had always been delicate, suddenly showed alarming symptoms of decline. Catherine, the Royne Mère, cast about to get the Regency into her own hands; and in order to check the steadily growing power of the Guises, she resolved to recall the Bourbons, promising to save Condé from death if they would accept her as Regent. The King of Navarre, Antoine de Bourbon, consented to her proposition in order to save his brother. The terrified Guises entreated Catherine to keep Condé still in prison; since he would, if set at liberty, get the better of them all. It is characteristic to note that when the state of the King’s health became desperate, the Guises were wholly without sympathy; though we read that Mary Stuart nursed her dying{019} husband with tenderest solicitude. As soon as the King had breathed his last, Gaspard de Coligny addressed these memorable words to those who stood by: “Messieurs, le roi est mort, çela nous apprend à vivre.”

The death of Francis II opened Condé’s prison doors; whereupon he insisted on proving his innocence, and claiming punishment for those who had caused his incarceration. The Guises began to tremble, and their friends trembled with them. Meantime, Catherine de Medicis, always intent on her own interests, tried to placate the Protestant nobility, and even showed toleration for the Protestant cult in various parts of France. She endeavoured to entice Condé to her Court through the charms of one of her Court ladies—the beautiful Isabelle de Limeuil—in order to make him an instrument for her own purposes. Brantôme, with reference to this, speaks of Louis de Bourbon as a man of corrupt morals. Nor could he resist the passion shown for him by Marguerite de Lustrac, widow of the Maréchal de Saint-André, from whom he accepted the magnificent château of Valery, with its vast appanage, originally intended as a dowry for Mademoiselle de Saint-André, the affianced bride of his own son Henri I de Bourbon, who had died young, poisoned, it is said, by her mother. Condé’s irregular habits called for the severe rebuke of Calvin, and his noble wife Eleonore was broken-hearted over them.

Antoine, King of Navarre, the eldest of the{020} brothers, also became a puppet in the hands of the Queen-Mother and the Guises, who deliberately provoked the sanguinary conflicts at Vassy between the Huguenots and the Catholics.

Jeanne d’Albret, who sided with the Protestants, left the Court in consequence, and to the great regret of Eleonore, retired to her kingdom of Navarre. Had the husbands of these two great ladies been equally desirous of keeping the peace the Massacre of St. Bartholomew would never have taken place. Indeed, when Eleonore de Roye died at the early age of twenty-eight the Protestants of France lost faith in Condé as their leader, believing that it was through her influence alone that he served their cause.

When Eleonore felt her end approaching she sent a messenger for her husband and upon his hurrying to her bedside most generously forgave him for all his infidelities. Her eldest son, Henri I de Bourbon, who had shared all her anxieties and who had been her constant companion, listened with deep emotion to her exhortations to his father that he should remain true to the Protestant Faith; and the memory of this noble woman prevailed with Condé after her death.

Plate VIII.

Photo Giraudon.

FRANÇOIS II. KING OF FRANCE.
Francois Clouet.
Bibl. Nar. Paris.

To face page 20.

The intriguing Catherine, after much wavering, then declared herself upon the Catholic side, and compelled Michel de l’Hôpital, who had tried to reconcile the two parties, to resign. The consequence of this decision was the bloody battle of Jarnac, where Condé died the death of a hero. No one could{021} deny that he loved and honoured France, and that he was a great warrior. Even the Guises, his implacable enemies, endeavoured to conciliate him, and tried to arrange, after his wife’s death, a marriage between him and Mary Stuart. How different, if this alliance had been accomplished, would have been the destinies of that ill-fated Queen![3]

Henri I de Bourbon[4] succeeded his father as Prince de Condé, and secured the friendship of Jeanne d’Albret, Queen of Navarre; so that when the Huguenots, after the disaster of Jarnac, shut themselves up in La Rochelle, the widow of Antoine de Bourbon appeared in their midst and presented to them her son Henri de Béarn, together with his cousin the young Prince de Condé. Under the guidance of Gaspard de Coligny these two young Princes were received amongst the leaders of the Protestant army, at that time in a critical position and in great pecuniary straits. The young Prince de Condé disposed of most of his jewels, whilst Coligny and Jeanne d’Albret made similar sacrifices. These jewels were sent to Queen Elizabeth of England as security for a sum of money forwarded by her to the Protestant forces.

Coligny seems to have thought highly of the abilities of the young Condé Prince, to whom he deputed the command in his absence.{022}

It is indeed remarkable that so fervent a Calvinist as Jeanne d’Albret should have consented to the engagement of her son to Margot de France, youngest daughter of Catherine de Medicis. It is true that the horrors of St. Bartholomew had not then taken place, nor had the close ties of relationship between the houses of Valois and Navarre at that date been loosened. At the same time a marriage was arranged by Jeanne d’Albret between Henri de Condé and Marie de Clève, daughter of the Duc de Nevers and Marguerite de Bourbon. This lady was rich, accomplished, and of rare beauty; and it was an open secret at the time that the Duc d’Anjou (afterwards King Henri III) was madly in love with her.

Plate IX.

Photo. Giraudon.

JEANNE D’ALBRET, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.
François Clouet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 21.

The marriage of the Prince de Condé was an occasion for great rejoicing amongst the Protestant party, when all at once news arrived of the sudden death of Queen Jeanne d’Albret under suspicious circumstances. It was rumoured that Catherine de Medicis wished to remove her before the nuptials of her son Henri of Navarre and Margot de France. The douce enfant (as Francis I called her, when Dauphine of France) had schooled herself well to the difficult position in which as a young wife she found herself with Diane de Poitiers; but as Queen-mother and Regent she developed into a false and ambitious woman, who actually planned the carnage of St. Bartholomew on the eve of her own{023} daughter’s marriage to the chief of the Huguenot party.

It does not enter into our present work to describe the horrors for which she was responsible on that occasion, but it is sufficient to say that Gaspard de Coligny found his death, whilst the lives of Condé and of the King of Navarre were only spared on the condition that they abjured the Protestant Faith. Condé, however, at first persisted in a refusal, although his young wife obeyed. For this reason he was summoned before the boy King, Charles IX, who, advancing towards him, called out, “The Mass, Death, or the Bastille, Choose!” “God will not allow,” said Condé quietly, “that I choose the first, my King! The two other alternatives are at your pleasure.” In a fury, the King rushed upon him and would have slain him then and there, had not the Queen, Elizabeth of Austria—the only redeeming feature of this contemptible Court—thrown herself at the feet of her husband to prevent him. Finally, however, the two Bourbon Princes did attend Mass, and the Cardinal de Bourbon gave Condé and his bride the nuptial benediction in the church of St. Germain des Prés.

But this was not enough; for both Navarre and Condé were forced to fight against those very Huguenots whose leaders they had been; and they were compelled to march under the command of the Duc d’Anjou against that same La Rochelle where Condé had passed so many years with his{024} noble friend Gaspard de Coligny, engaged in furthering the Protestant cause.

In 1574, however, upon the death of Charles IX, Condé and Henri of Navarre again joined the Protestant forces. Not so Marie de Clève, who was even trying to make this a plea for a separation when she died suddenly in giving birth to a daughter.[5] Twelve years later Condé contracted another marriage, with Charlotte Catherine de la Trémoille.

We propose in this brief sketch of the Condé family, who eventually became Lords of Chantilly, to say something also regarding the lives of the Princesses de Condé, since some of them rank amongst the most noble and interesting women of their time. Charlotte de la Trémoille[6] was the daughter of the Duc de Thouars and Jeanne de Montmorency. She lived with her mother in the fortified castle of Taillebourg, and was of a romantic turn of mind and very handsome. Condé, presented by her brother, the young Duc de Thouars, whilst he chanced to be in the neighbourhood, paid a visit to the young lady; and although of the opposite party—for the Trémoilles were Catholics—he came unattended. He showed her more attention than was his usual custom, so that she fell in love with him. She was but seventeen years of age, whilst Condé was by that time{025} thirty-three, but without an heir to his name. He had a fine head and well-cut features; his expression was pensive, and betrayed a delicate and nervous constitution. The fact of his being a Prince of the Blood Royal and of illustrious lineage stimulated, no doubt, Mademoiselle de la Trémoille’s poetic imagination.

When, after the disaster of Angers, Condé was compelled to go into hiding in Guernsey whilst vainly soliciting the help of Queen Elizabeth, he saw one morning two well-equipped ships approaching the harbour. The captain of the party presently sent one of his officers to the Prince, bearing a letter from Charlotte de la Trémoille begging him to make use of these, her ships. Condé, who had remained so long a helpless prisoner on the island, embarked at once, and upon his arrival at La Rochelle found the Princess awaiting him at that port.

A few days later the wedding was celebrated quietly at the Château de Taillebourg: both the Princess and her brother having become adherents of the Reformed Faith before that event took place.

In 1587 a daughter was born to Condé, named Eleonore after her noble grandmother, who subsequently married the Prince of Orange.

In that same year (1587) the eighth and last religious war broke out in France, known as the War of the Four Henris—Henri III, Henri de Guise, Henri of Navarre, and Henri de Bourbon{026} Condé. The first battle was fought at Coutras, between the Duc de Joyeuse, who commanded 7,000 men for Henri III, and the joint forces of Henri of Navarre and Henri de Condé, who had between them but 5,000 men. The fight was a prolonged one and ended in a victory for the two Bourbons, who both greatly distinguished themselves, “Messieurs,” cried Navarre, before the fight began, “souvenez vous que vous êtes de la maison de Bourbon. Vive Dieu! Je vous ferai voir que je suis votre ainé!” “Et nous, vous montrerons des bons cadets,” replied Condé.

But Duc Henri de Guise presently restored the fortunes of the Catholics by the victories of Vimory and Auneau, wherein no less than twenty thousand Protestants perished.

Henri III, true Valois that he was, was not, however, grateful to the victor. Jealous of his success and growing popularity, he caused him to be foully murdered at the Château of Blois, whither he had summoned him from Paris. The Cardinal de Lorraine, his brother, shared his fate.

Even Catherine de Medicis, then on her deathbed, was horrified at her son’s treachery towards the Guises, who had fought so ably for the Catholic cause. “Vous avez fait mourir le duc de Guise!” she exclaimed; “Dieu veuille que vous vous trouviez bien de l’action que vous venez de faire. Mais vous ne pouvez, je crois, vous en felicitez. Ce n’est pas tout de tailler, il faut savoir coudre.{027}”

Plate X.

CATHERINE DE MEDICIS. HENRI II.
Attributed to Corneille de Lyon. François Clouet.
Musée Condé. Bibl. Nat. Paris.

To face page 26.

When the news of the murder of the two Guises became known in Paris, greatest public indignation was aroused; and the Sorbonne declared that France ought to strive earnestly against such a King. In order to save himself, the wretched King made overtures to Henri of Navarre, addressing him as “brother.” A reconciliation took place between them, and together they laid siege to Paris with an army of 40,000 men. Before, however, the assault took place, Henri III was murdered by a fanatic monk, designating with his last breath Henri of Navarre as his successor to the throne of France, but imploring him at the same time to embrace the Catholic Faith.

The crown thus devolved upon Henri de Bourbon, King of Navarre, as lineal descendant of Robert de Clermont, sixth son of Saint Louis; whilst Henri de Bourbon Condé, his cousin, became heir-presumptive. The health of the latter, however, began to fail, owing partly to an injury incurred by a fall from his horse, and partly to severe attacks of fever. Trusting to a partial recovery, he ventured too soon into the saddle, being, according to a contemporary writer, over-fond of riding, and in consequence suffered a relapse which ended fatally. Tifburn, the faithful custodian of the Château de Saint-Jean d’Angely, thus describes his unexpected death: “I was the person selected to report this sad mischance to the Princess, and I found her coming down the stairs of the large apartment to visit her husband. He had been ill,{028} and had become worse since the day before, but none would have supposed the end was so near. When she saw me so downcast she pressed me to tell her what had occurred. When she heard the sad news she fainted, and had to be transported to her bed, where she sobbed and cried and would not be consoled.”

Henri IV, on hearing of this disaster, hastened to Saint-Jean d’Angely; but on the way information reached him that two of the Princesse de Condé’s servants—her page, Belcastle, and a valet—had suddenly disappeared, and that they had fled on two horses, kept in readiness for them by one Brillant, known to be a procurer employed at the castle. On hearing this, he turned the bridle of his horse, unwilling to interview the widowed Princess.

In a letter to la belle Corisande, Duchesse de Grammont, he writes regarding this incident as follows: “Jeudy, le Prince de Condé ayant couru la bague, il soupa se portant bien. A minuit lui prit un vomissement très violent, qui luy dura jusqu’au matin. Tout le Vendredy il demeura au lit. Le soir il soupa, et ayant bien dormi, il se leva le Samedi matin, dina debout, et puis joua aux eschecs. Il se leva, se mit a promener par sa chambre, devisant avec l’un et avec l’autre. Tant d’un coup il dit: ‘Baillez moi ma chaise, je sens une grande faiblesse.’ Il n’y fut assis qu’il perdit sa parole, et soudain après il rendit l’âme, et les marques du poison sortirent soudainement.{029}”

When Brillant was interrogated, he denied everything, but under torture he made admissions which greatly compromised the widow of the dead Condé. Subsequent versions of the story stated first that the Catholic party had administered the poison; and later that the Prince had died a death in full accordance with the malady from which he was suffering. Nevertheless the poor Princess had to bear the burden of this terrible charge. She was allowed to remain in her own apartments only until she gave birth to a son, who was pronounced by all who saw him to greatly resemble the late Prince de Condé; and the fact that Henri ultimately consented to become godfather to the child destroyed all false accusations. For many years, however, she was kept under close guard at Saint-Jean d’Angely; and in the archives at Thouars there still exist some touching letters from her to her mother and to the Constable de Montmorency, asserting her innocence and imploring help. She also describes her straitened circumstances, her allowance being quite insufficient to supply the needs of her children, Eleonore and Henri. Throughout all her trials she behaved with singular fortitude, until at length, when her son Henri de Bourbon was recognised as the legitimate son of his father, and thenceforth held the position of heir-presumptive, she was allowed to return to Court. De Thou even obtained an order directing the French Parlement to come immediately to Saint-Germain to salute the Prince as heir to the{030} throne until it should please God to give children to the King himself. Henri IV displayed considerable anxiety that his heir should receive the best possible education, and that he should embrace the Catholic Faith, as he himself had done. Thus the tradition of the Princes de Condé as Huguenot Princes was abruptly broken; and Charlotte Catherine de la Trémoille also abjured the Protestant Faith with great ceremony at Rouen. She then endeavoured to conciliate the Catholic party, but they never forgave her for the great services which she had rendered Condé at Guernsey.

In the preceding chapter we have related the matrimonial adventures of this Prince, and how when Henri IV fell passionately in love with his young wife, the beautiful Charlotte de Montmorency, he fled with her to the Netherlands to seek the protection of Eleonore, Princess of Orange, until the death of the King.[7]

On his return he became the principal factor in opposing the government of Richelieu, for he was highly dissatisfied that the Regency during the minority of Louis XIII had not passed to him, as premier Prince of the Blood, but had been seized upon by the Queen-Mother before he could reach France. The government of Berry was given to him with one and a half million of francs as a sort of compensation—which, however, did not satisfy him. Subsequently he was accused{031} of having designs on the throne, and although this was not proved, Richelieu, in the name of the Regent, had him arrested. He was imprisoned in the Bastille and treated most rigorously as a State criminal. It is greatly to the credit of his wife that she volunteered to share his captivity. It was most touching how she arrived at the Bastille accompanied by her little dwarf, who refused to be separated from her. A journal[8] of that time states that the meeting of the Princess with her unfortunate husband was most affectionate, and that he repentantly asked her forgiveness for past wrongs.

Owing to his precarious state of health he was soon after removed to the Château of Vincennes, where he was allowed more liberty, and there he could take exercise on the top of a thick wall built in the form of a gallery. The poor Princess, once so radiant in beauty, suffered cruelly; and at the birth of a still-born son her life was despaired of.

At last, after nearly three years of imprisonment when her little daughter Geneviève de Bourbon was born, their prison-walls opened and they were free at last.

But presently Henri de Montmorency, the Princess’s brother, who had but recently succeeded his father as Lord of Chantilly, was thrown into a dungeon, whence he only emerged to be guillotined later at Toulouse. Unfortunately he had sided with Gaston, the King’s brother, in a conspiracy{032} against the mighty Cardinal. In vain his wife, Marie Felice Orsini, pleaded for her husband. She herself was imprisoned for two years for doing so; and when finally released, retired for the rest of her life to a convent at Moulins, where she was known and much beloved as “Sister Marie.”

The whole property of the last Montmorency, the last scion of so illustrious a race, was confiscated after his execution, and Chantilly fell to the Crown. A house called La Cabotière, bearing to this day the Royal coat-of-arms, marks this transition period; and not far from it is the so-called Maison de Sylvie, which recalls Marie Felice Orsini. It was there that she and her husband hid the poet Théophile de Viau, who had been condemned to death; and from this retreat he sang in charming verses the beauty and the noble qualities of the Princess under the name of “Sylvie.”

These cruelties against the Montmorencys and the Condés, Louis XIII in after-years never ceased to regret, and when on his deathbed he wished to atone for them he summoned Henri II, Prince de Condé, and told him that Chantilly should be restored to his wife, the Princess, as sister of the last Montmorency. Thus Chantilly came back to its rightful owners.{033}

CHAPTER III

THE GRAND CONDÉ

WITH Charlotte, wife of Prince Henri II de Condé, Chantilly passed into the possession of the Princes of Bourbon Condé, and its history from that date becomes part of the history of France. The son of Charlotte, Louis II de Bourbon, when barely twenty-two years of age, was already called the “Hero,” in consequence of his victory at Rocroy (1643) over the German and Spanish armies. This famous descendant of Huguenot Princes was, at the age of four years, baptized a Roman Catholic, with great pomp, in the Cathedral at Bourges. Both Marie de Medicis, the Queen-Regent, and Charlotte de la Trémoille, the Dowager Princess de Condé, were present; and the infant Prince, though so young, recited his Credo without a hitch. His education was subsequently placed in the hands of the Jesuit Fathers at Bourges, who commended his clear intellect and excellent memory. He received the title of “Duc d’Enghien,” a title which became thereafter hereditary in the Condé family.

His father, Prince Henri II de Condé, thought it wise, after the execution of his brother-in-law{034} Henri de Montmorency and his own imprisonment, to contract a matrimonial alliance with the all-powerful Cardinal; especially as Richelieu was obsessed by the desire that one of his nieces should become a Royal Princess. A marriage was therefore arranged between the twelve-year-old Duc d’Enghien and the little Claire-Clemence, then barely five. This mariage de convenance brought no happiness to the parties concerned, and ended in completely crushing the unloved wife. In a book recently published, “Sur la femme du Grand Condé,”[9] the excellent qualities of Claire-Clemence—so little appreciated during her lifetime—have been set out for us. At a court where women were chiefly given over to pleasure and amusement, it is but natural that soberer qualities such as hers should have passed unnoticed, or even have aroused opposition. Between her brilliant mother-in-law, Charlotte de Montmorency, and her beautiful but vain sister-in-law, Geneviève de Bourbon[10] (subsequently Madame de Longueville), to the courtiers of her time Claire-Clemence appeared to be lacking both in beauty and savoir-faire. A fall on the very day of her marriage, caused by her high heels when dancing a minuet which Anne of Austria had opened with the Duc d’Enghien, was recorded with great glee by the Grande Mademoiselle, daughter of Gaston d’Orléans. The prospects of this new establishment were not exactly promising, since Claire-Clemence{035} received no support from her parents, whom she hardly knew. When her uncle, the Cardinal, decided to make an instrument of her to serve his purposes, he took her away from her egoistical and immoral father, the Maréchal de Brézé, and her sickly mother, who suffered from transitory attacks of madness. Claire-Clemence had been educated, therefore, in accordance with the high station for which she was intended. After her marriage Richelieu watched over her welfare and superintended arrangements by which she and her princely husband should have a suitable establishment in Paris; where, it was said, the young couple led un train de Prince.

Presently, however, the sharp-eyed Cardinal became aware that the Duc d’Enghien was neglecting his young wife, and was constantly in the company of the charming Marthe de Vigeau, of whom he had become wildly infatuated and whom he constantly met at the house of his sister. His Eminence, therefore, decided to send the young Duke to Burgundy, of which province he was supposed to be the Governor; and for Claire-Clemence he arranged a temporary retirement in the convent of Saint-Denis, there to escape the intrigues which would, as he said, naturally arise round a young wife so completely neglected by her husband. She was accompanied to the convent by a small Court, consisting of Madame la Princesse Douarière de Condé, Madame d’Aiguillon, Madame de Longueville, and Mademoiselle de la Croix. This last was{036} her constant companion, and wrote to Richelieu that Her Serene Highness did everything in the convent which His Eminence desired her to do. In very truth she soon became a great favourite at Saint-Denis, where she did a great deal of good among the sick and poor.

Plate XI.

THE GRAND CONDÉ.
Musée Condé.

David Teniets.

Meanwhile the Duc d’Enghien, to annoy the Cardinal, led a very gay life in Burgundy, in obstinate defiance of the remonstrances of his father. Finally, he was compelled by Richelieu’s orders to leave Burgundy and join the Minister at Narbonne. There is no doubt that the Duc d’Enghien, inordinately proud by nature, was suffering keenly under the tyranny of the haughty Cardinal, who, although wishing his nephew-in-law well, derived a certain amount of satisfaction from the spectacle of this proud-spirited young Duke submissive to his yoke. The following incident is an illustration of this. It was a long-accepted fact that Cardinal Richelieu, as Prime Minister to his Majesty the King, should claim precedence over the Princes of the Blood Royal. But that Mazarin, just created Cardinal, should on his return from Italy also have this privilege was—the young Duc d’Enghien thought—most improper. Richelieu, on hearing of this, took up the cause of Mazarin, and even asked d’Enghien to visit his brother, the Cardinal of Lyons. D’Enghien, fearing that this Cardinal would also claim precedence over him at Lyons, merely sent one of his attendants to salute him. Richelieu was furious at this, would accept no excuse, and desired the Duke{037} to purge his fault at Lyons, on his way back. D’Enghien, compelled by his father, the Prince de Condé, to submit to Richelieu’s demand, was greatly chagrined. Moreover, a message reached him immediately afterwards to join his wife at Paris, since she was ill. He was also informed that the details of his private life—in which he was the lover of many women but not the husband of the one woman who was his wife—were well known. So severe a reproof seemed at last to produce some effect upon him, and he returned to his wife, who quickly recovered her health and spirits when she found that her husband was kindly disposed towards her.

Richelieu, who had watched d’Enghien since his childhood, remembered the distinctions he had acquired as student at Bourges, and was shrewd enough to see that the young man would more than fulfil the high expectations placed in him. He therefore knew what he was doing when he allied the young Condé to his own family, and selected him and Henri de la Tour d’Auvergne (known in history as Turenne) as Commanders-in-chief of the French Army.

After the death of Richelieu, the King, Louis XIII, showed the high regard he cherished for his great minister by confirming and adhering to all the dispositions made by him before he passed away. Amongst these were the appointments of Condé and Turenne as Generals of the French troops sent to check the advancing forces of the Spaniards. It was a choice which showed the rare capacity of this{038} remarkable minister in finding the right man for the right place. Turenne was thirty-one years of age, whilst Condé was but twenty-one. Marie de Medicis and her party thought Condé too young for so important a post, but Louis XIII was not to be dissuaded; and to Condé he gave the command of the army in Picardy.

This war had been going on between France and Spain for more than ten years. It revolved around those frontier regions to the north, near the Somme and the Oise, which divide the original possessions of the Kings of France from those of the former Dukes of Burgundy; and in 1643 it was carried on with great ardour by the Spaniards under their General, Don Francisco Melo, and his lieutenants, Fountain and Beck. With them the Duc d’Enghien was confronted near Rocroy. On the night before the battle the future hero was asleep amongst his soldiers on the bare ground when all at once a French horseman who had taken service amongst the Spaniards presented himself and asked permission to speak to the General. In a subdued voice he told him that the Spaniards had prepared an attack for seven o’clock that very morning. On hearing this Condé at once called for his horse, his arms, and the traditional hat with the white plume, which, since the time of Henri IV, had become the special badge of a Commander-in-chief of the French Army. The Duc d’Aumale, in his “Histoire des Princes de Condé,” relates with much spirit the issue of this battle. He tells us how{039} Condé was at first repulsed by Isembourg, and then how, by a sudden change of tactics in attacking the rear, he reaped a complete victory.

The King, tossing upon a sick-bed, was full of anxiety regarding the issue of this war. He had had a dream, or rather a vision, which he narrated to the Prince de Condé (father of the Duc d’Enghien) who sat near his bedside. “I have,” he said in a faint voice, “seen your son advancing towards the enemy. The fight was sharp, and the victory was for a long time undecided; but at last it was ours.” These are said to have been the last words of Louis XIII.

A few days later, whilst the Requiem Mass for His Majesty was being sung at Saint-Denis, it became known that Louis de Bourbon, the Duc d’Enghien, had gained the battle of Rocroy, and from that time he bore the name of the “Grand Condé.” The flag taken on this occasion from the Spaniards may still be seen at Chantilly in the gallery where paintings by Sauveur Lecomte record his famous deeds. It is now reckoned amongst the most precious trophies of France, since most of those preserved at the Invalides were destroyed in 1814. All Paris desired to see the Spanish flag taken at Rocroy, and it was therefore exhibited publicly at the Louvre, at Notre Dame, and on the Quai. Congratulations poured in upon the Condés, and the Duc d’Enghien was pointed out as the hero who had won the first battle for the new four-year-old King. His father, full of pride, wished him to return to{040} Paris to receive the ovations of the people; but, like a true strategist, the Duke was anxious before all else to reap the advantages of his victory. In a characteristic letter to his father, who was urging him to come home, he explained that the enemy had invaded France, and that he felt that he must remain at the head of his regiment in order to serve his country, at least as long as their foes were on French soil.

His next act was to attack Thionville on the Moselle, upon which occasion he succeeded in separating the troops commanded by Beck from the main army in the Netherlands, thus displaying a great example of military skill. It was, however, no longer from Louis XIII that he received his orders, but from Mazarin and the amiable but weak and irresolute Anne of Austria. Condé, in spite of his youth, had therefore to act on his own responsibility. In the spring of 1645 he won with Turenne the great battle of Nördlingen,[11] where he completely defeated the Austro-Spanish general Mercy.

The Duc d’Aumale, a military man of great distinction himself, speaks of the three victorious battles of Rocroy, Thionville, and Nördlingen as most important in their results, unblemished by any sort of reverse. He attributes to the Grand Condé all the qualities necessary for a great{041} general: foresight in his preparations and a supreme ability to vary his tactics according to circumstances; great boldness and sudden inspiration during action; prompt decision and a far-reaching political outlook to confirm the victory and reap its fruits. It is rare indeed to discover all these qualities united in one man, and to find Condé’s equals we must look to men like Frederick the Great, Napoleon, and Wellington.

After the battle of Nördlingen, Condé fell ill of a fever, which compelled him at length to return to Chantilly. His mother, the Princesse Charlotte de Condé, his sister Geneviève, and his wife Claire-Clemence, with her little son the Duc d’Albret, whom he had not yet seen, welcomed him home. The historical “petite chambre” which he had always occupied was made ready for him, and “eau de Forges” to fortify his impaired strength. There he was invited to repose after the excessive fatigues of camp-life.

The attraction Condé had felt for Marthe de Vigeau when forced to marry the Cardinal’s niece had by this time passed away; and his plans for divorce in order to marry the woman he had so passionately adored had been definitely abandoned since the birth of his son Henri Jules. But he could not bring himself to show any affection to Claire-Clemence, who, during the long absence of her husband, had retired into the Convent of the Carmelites. It was a marriage into which he had been forced—a fact that he could{042} not get over. Meanwhile Marthe de Vigeau had burnt his letters; had even gone so far as to burn his portrait; and, to make the sacrifice complete, had taken the veil and was henceforth known as “Sœur Marthe” in the same Carmelite Convent. But the Court was teeming with intriguing women who all wished to approach the young hero, around whose forehead laurels were now so thickly wreathed. Strong as Condé was in the field, he proved weak in the hands of an intriguing woman. In this he resembled his ancestor Louis I de Bourbon, whose name he bore. It was his beautiful cousin, Isabelle de Montmorency, who exercised the most pernicious influence over him. She had become the wife of Dandelot de Coligny, who for her sake had abjured the Protestant Faith. Ambitious to the extreme, she strove, after the death of her husband, to attract Louis XIV whilst still a youth, and after vainly trying to marry Charles II of England, she ended by marrying the Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin.

Plate XII.

THE VIRGIN AS PROTECTOR OF THE HUMAN RACE.
Musée Condé.

Photo Giraudon.

Charonton and Vilatte.

THE TOMB OF THE DUC AND DUCHESSE DE BRETAGNE AT NANTES.

Photo Giraudon.

After Designs by Perréal.

Two other well-known women also contrived to attract the Grand Condé, and with them he contracted a lifelong friendship. These were Louise Marie de Gonzague of Cleves, afterwards Queen of Poland, and her sister Anne, known as the Princess Palatine on account of her marriage with the son of the Elector Frederic V. Their portraits, by Dumoustier, can be seen at Chantilly. These Princesses de Gonzague, before their marriages, lived at Paris. Princesse Louise Marie held her{043} Court at the Hôtel Nevers, a majestic building between the Tours de Nesle and the Pont Neuf, which afterwards became the Hôtel Conti, and is now the Palais de Monnaie. The two sisters were in their time leaders of Parisian society and played an important part amongst the women of the Fronde.

A letter, one of the last that Prince Henri II de Condé wrote to his son, refers to the neglect with which he treated his wife, and blames him severely for not writing to her upon the occasion of the sudden death of her only brother. It runs thus: “Mon fils, Dieu vous bénisse. Guérissez vous, ou il vaut mieux vous poignarder vous même, que de faire la vie que vous faites; je rien sais ni cause ni raison, et je prie Dieu de me consoler; je vous écris au désespoir, et suis Monsieur votre bon père et ami.” Soon afterwards the old Prince de Condé died and his last words and wishes were for the Duc and Duchesse d’Enghien. He, who had always held so high the honour of his own wife, had been a great support to Claire-Clemence in her trials. The title of Prince de Condé devolved at his father’s death upon the Grand Condé, whilst the little Duc d’Albret bore henceforth the title of Duc d’Enghien, rendered so celebrated by the victor of Rocroy.

But the Grand Condé did not stop here. In that same year (1648) he again won the great battle of Lens against the Austrians. In that battle it was said that he charged twelve times in one{044} hour, took eight flags and thirty-eight cannon, and made 5,000 prisoners. The Emperor Ferdinand III, after this, felt his powers of resistance at an end and decided at last to agree to the Peace of Westphalia, which was signed at Münster, and brought to an end the famous Thirty Years’ War. By it France acquired the whole of Alsace except Strasbourg and Philipsbourg. Liberty of conscience, inaugurated by Henri IV, was also recognised throughout the rest of the world, and perfect equality of rights was enjoined between Roman Catholic and Protestant.

Anne of Austria received the hero of Rocroy and Lens with open arms, calling him her third son, and Louis XIV, the boy King, caressed him constantly. He felt that he was in peril, and he trusted to Condé to help him out of his difficulties. In order to improve finances exhausted by the lavish expenditure of the Court, Mazarin had committed the great mistake of forcing taxation upon all merchandise entering Paris. Parlement had refused to conform to this kind of taxation; but the Cardinal thought that this was the moment to again bring forward this claim. Upon the very day when the Te Deum was sung at Notre Dame for the victory of Lens, he chose to assail the leaders of the Parlement, amongst whom was the venerable Councillor Broussel. This was the signal for the breaking out of the Fronde, and a general rising of the people. Paul Gondi (subsequently known as Cardinal de Retz), at that time{045} Archbishop of Paris, came in full state to entreat the Queen-Regent to appease the people. But Anne of Austria maintained that this was a revolt and that the King must enforce order, upon which the Archbishop himself joined the insurgents and even became one of their leaders. At last the Queen-Regent, frightened by the triumphs of Cromwell in England, gave in, and Broussel was released. To her intense chagrin, persons of the highest aristocracy had joined the Fronde; amongst them the Duchesse de Longueville, the Grand Condé’s own sister, the Duchesse de Bouillon, and others—all more or less vain women seeking notoriety. They endeavoured to gain Condé over to their side, but he resisted proudly, answering, when asked to join the Frondeurs: “I belong to a race that cannot identify itself with the enemies of the Crown.” Anne of Austria thought it wiser to leave Paris, and in great haste departed to Saint-Germain-en-Lay—an exodus which the Grande Mademoiselle has described in all its picturesqueness. On account of the suddenness of the departure no time had been given for the necessary preparations, and the young King and the Princesses de Condé, Charlotte de Montmorency, and Claire-Clemence, had to sleep on straw—an incident which Louis XIV never forgot.

Condé, however, blockaded Paris, overthrew the Fronde, and on the evening of August 18, 1649 the young King with the Queen-Regent, Condé, and Mazarin entered Paris and reached{046} the Palais-Royal in safety. When Condé prepared to take his leave, the Queen turned to him and said, “Sir, the service you have rendered the State is so great that the King and I would be most ungrateful should ever we forget it!{047}”

CHAPTER IV

CLAIRE-CLEMENCE, PRINCESSE DE CONDÉ

MAZARIN with difficulty restrained his impatience at numerous Royal favours bestowed on Condé. Indeed, whilst the latter was engaged in keeping the Army loyal, he agitated against him and did his utmost to undermine the confidence placed in him by the Queen-Regent. In this way the warrior and the priest soon became open adversaries. If it was hard for Condé to submit to the tyranny of Richelieu, still less could he put up with the haughty insolence of the Italian, who stood between him and his own Royal relations. It was natural, therefore, that he should become bitter and think himself insufficiently recompensed for the great services he had rendered to the King. All those members of the aristocracy who were likewise irritated against Mazarin gradually crowded round Condé, and he who had defeated the so-called Old Fronde now became the leader of the second, known as the Young Fronde. Mazarin, therefore, found an excuse for undermining the position of Condé and succeeded in making the Queen believe that the second Fronde, led on by Condé, was opposed to the Government. In order to counteract these false{048} reports, the Prince came to the Palais-Royal to pay a formal visit to her Majesty, who was, however, ill in bed. His own mother (now the Dowager Princess), who had always been on terms of great intimacy with Anne of Austria, was then at her bedside. It was the last interview between Condé and his mother. Her Majesty seemed tired, and after a few words dismissed the Prince, who then proceeded to the Salle de Conseil, where Mazarin awaited him. There he found also his younger brother, Conti, and his brother-in-law, Monsieur de Longueville. Presently Mazarin under some pretext left the room, and no sooner had he gone than the captain of the Queen’s body-guard, Captain Quitaut, entered, and making his way towards Condé and the others, said, not however without embarrassment, “Gentlemen, I have the Queen’s orders to arrest you.” Condé for a moment seemed thunderstruck. Was this her Majesty’s gratitude for the victories he had gained against the enemies of France? Then, seeing that this arrest was intended in all seriousness, he addressed the group of councillors around him, saying, “Can you believe that I, who have always served the King so well, am now a prisoner?” For a space they all stood speechless. Presently someone offered to speak to the Queen, and all left the apartment. Then, since they did not return, Quitaut was compelled to carry out his orders. A door then was opened into a dark passage, and there appeared some of the King’s men-at-arms. Condé, his brother Conti, and M. de Longueville were{049} overcome with amazement. It was indeed true! Mazarin had triumphed. They were transported then and there to the donjon of Vincennes, that self-same prison wherein Henri II de Condé, with his wife the beautiful Charlotte, had been secluded for three years.

The hour was past midnight when they reached the prison, and Condé found himself shut up in a cell whence little could be seen but a tiny patch of sky. He did not, however, lose his courage, and his spirit never seemed to forsake him, even though he was behind prison walls. One day he learned from the doctors who came to visit his sick brother Conti, that his wife Claire-Clemence was employing every effort she could to get him free. To while away his weary hours he took a fancy to cultivating flowers. “Is it not strange,” he said to the doctor, “that I should be watering carnations, whilst my wife is fighting!”

After her husband’s unforeseen imprisonment, Claire-Clemence was permitted to join the Dowager Princesse de Condé at Chantilly, since Mazarin looked upon her as harmless. It was rather Condé’s sister, Madame de Longueville, whom he feared, and whom he had intended to arrest with her husband. She, however, escaped in time, braving by night a terrible storm at sea, and joined Turenne, who helped her in her attempts to liberate the prisoners.

Nor did Claire-Clemence remain inactive. She consulted with Lenet, a great friend of the Condé{050} family, who had come to Chantilly, on what course to adopt to set her husband at liberty. Rumours reached her that she would be separated from her son, at which she was greatly alarmed. Taking Lenet aside, she declared to him emphatically that she would never be separated from her only child; but that she intended, on the contrary, to conduct him at the head of an army to deliver his father. This indomitable courage on the part of Condé’s spouse was to be the first step in a course of action which later on contributed much to his eventual deliverance.

Meanwhile spring had come, and, in spite of the great misfortune which had befallen the Grand Condé, Chantilly became the resort of a crowd of visitors, who flocked round its brilliant châtelaine, Charlotte de Montmorency, Dowager Princesse de Condé. The young Duc d’Enghien took his morning rides on his pony, anglers with rod and line repaired to the ponds, gay parties of pleasure-seekers roamed over the lawns and along the avenues, and the woods resounded with the winding of the huntsman’s horn. In the evening the guests assembled in the splendid apartments of the castle to hear music, or listen to the many interesting tales related by the Dowager Princess, who loved above all else to dilate upon the attentions shown to her by Henri IV.

Plate XIII.

CHANTILLY BEFORE 1687.

CHANTILLY IN THE TIME OF THE GRAND CONDE.

Soon, however, the visits to the Château of Lenet and of Madame de Châtillon, both of whom had played a prominent part in the Fronde, were reported at Court; and one day the{051} Princesses were suddenly surprised by the sight of Swiss guards stationed around their dwelling, and Monsieur de Vauldy simultaneously arrived at the Château with special orders from the King himself. He first asked for the Dowager Princess and endeavoured to persuade her to leave Chantilly for Berry; which, however, she flatly declined to do. In despair, the envoy, who had orders from the King not to show force, then asked to see the Princesse Claire-Clemence. On being conducted into a bedchamber, a lady lying in bed was pointed out to him as the Princesse de Condé; and he was told that she was suffering from so severe a cold that she could not possibly leave Chantilly at once. Furthermore a child, also suffering in the same way, was shown to him as the young Duc d’Enghien. These persons were, however, in reality an English governess and the gardener’s son, for the Princess herself, with her son in her arms, had made good her escape by a pathway that had by chance been left unguarded. Some of her ladies and gentlemen followed her at a distance until she safely reached a spot in the woods where she found a carriage, which had been kept always ready for emergencies. In this conveyance, after a fatiguing journey, she reached Montroux, an old country-seat of the Condés, where the hero of Rocroy had passed his early youth. Thence she wrote to the Queen, stating that she had undertaken this journey to show obedience to the Royal commands, since she had been{052} desired to leave Chantilly. Anne of Austria took this communication good-humouredly enough, and admired the pluck of the young mother, whilst everybody was amused at Vauldy’s discomfiture. At Montroux the Princess soon found herself surrounded by friends and partisans; and she succeeded in arousing enthusiasm by her easy and natural method of expression in speaking, which, upon occasions of importance, could rise to flights of real eloquence.

In order to be of service to the State and to the Prince, she decided to push on in the company of Lenet and Coligny to Bordeaux, whence the Duc de Bouillon came out to meet her. The Princess, mounted on a splendid charger named “Le Brézé,” which had come from her father’s stables, was received with Royal honours by Turenne, who defrayed all her expenses and those of her escort as far as Bordeaux.

Claire-Clemence and her supporters now decided to attack Mazarin openly for having imprisoned the Princes, but the Cardinal, getting wind of it, ordered the gates of Bordeaux to be shut in her face. The people of the city, however, revolted against such an injustice and opened the gates by force, crying, “Vive le Roi, et point de Mazarin.” It may be remarked here that the citizens of Bordeaux had every reason to be grateful to Condé for his kindness to them when, upon a previous occasion, they had revolted against their hated Governor, the Duc d’Epéron. The{053} Princesse de Condé decided to approach the city by water, and as soon as her ship came in sight, it was saluted by a cannonade from eighty vessels, whilst more than twenty thousand people welcomed her at the landing-stage. The streets were adorned with flowers, and public enthusiasm was so great that she was compelled to show herself on the balcony of her palace until midnight to receive the ovations of the populace.

In order to secure the support of the Bordeaulese, Claire-Clemence resolved to present her petition before their Parlement in person. With great spirit, therefore, she made her way to the Chamber of the Councillors, accompanied by her son. “I come to demand justice of the King against the violence of Mazarin,” she said imploringly, “and I place my person and that of my son in your hands.” At the same time the little Duke, dropping on one knee, cried out: “Gentlemen, I implore you to assume the place of a father to me; since the Cardinal has deprived me of my own.” The whole assembly was deeply touched, and after some deliberation, the members of the Parlement agreed to extend to her their protection to the suppliants.

It would be superfluous to pursue here in full detail all the efforts made by Claire-Clemence at Bordeaux on behalf of her husband. The chief difficulty now was, however, that Mazarin, having treated Condé with such injustice and violence, was afraid to set him free; and he therefore even{054} went so far as to entertain ideas of destroying him altogether. The Court, meanwhile, in spite of the events which were taking place at Bordeaux, had removed the Princes from the fortress of Vincennes to a prison at Havre; and at the same time ordered the Princess to leave Bordeaux and retire to Montroux. After distributing handsome gifts to all those who had befriended her, she departed with a numerous cortège, amid a shower of flowers; and on hearing that the Queen was at Bourg-sur-Mer, sought an interview with her. With her little son beside her, she fell upon her knees before Anne and begged for her husband’s freedom. Her Majesty’s answer was: “I am very glad, my cousin, that you at length recognise that you adopted a wrong course by which to get what you so intensely desire. But now that you seem to take another more fitting and more humble attitude I will see whether I can satisfy your request.”

To the united efforts of Claire-Clemence and of Condé’s devoted friend Lenet, there was also now added the powerful help of Anne de Gonzague, Princess Palatine, whose influence extended from Paris to Warsaw and even to Stockholm. She persuaded no less a person than Queen Christina of Sweden to plead for the Grand Condé’s liberty. Moreover, her sister, Marie de Gonzague, Queen of Poland, who had never ceased to be the hero’s devoted friend, also came to his aid with considerable effect.{055}

Meanwhile France was rent by civil war, and Anne of Austria began to regret the loss of Condé’s strong arm, which had done so much for her infant son, Louis XIV. The disorder, in fact, became so great and the clamour for Condé’s liberation so imperative, that Mazarin was compelled to proceed to Havre with an order under the Queen-Regent’s sign-manual for his unconditional release. The Cardinal entered the cell wherein the Princes were confined in his travelling attire and himself announced to them that their captivity was at an end. Whereupon compliments were exchanged and healths drunk; Mazarin even privately affirming to Condé that it was not to him that he owed his long imprisonment. A carriage was in waiting for the liberated prisoners, and Mazarin, taking his leave of them, bowed so low as to create unbounded mirth amongst those present. Then he himself departed into exile; whence, however, it was not very long ere he returned.

All Paris turned out to welcome Condé, and no less than 5,000 cavaliers, the flower of the French aristocracy, went out to meet the Princes at Saint-Denis. They were conducted by Gaston d’Orléans to the Palais-Royal, where they were received by the Queen-Regent and the young King, who welcomed them with his accustomed warmth, as if nothing had occurred. In the evening a supper was given in their honour by Monsieur the King’s uncle, and a ball by the Duchesse de Chevreuse. Next day a{056} solemn session of the Parlement took place, and for several nights Paris was brilliantly illuminated.

The young Princesse de Condé came from Montroux, accompanied by the Ducs de Bouillon and de Rochefoucauld, and the Prince, who appreciated to the full all that she had done for him, endeavoured to show his gratitude. He met her with a train of twenty carriages to accompany her entry into Paris; and nothing could have touched the Princess’s heart more profoundly than to hear the crowds along the road repeat: “Voici une femme fort chèrie de son mari.” It testified to the sympathy held by the public for this long-neglected wife.

From Paris the reunited pair proceeded to Chantilly, where festivities and hunting-parties followed fast one upon another. Condé, however, felt bound to claim a certain amount of recompense for the great wrong which had been done to him. He demanded for himself the Governments of Burgundy and Champagne, besides other rewards for his friends de Rochefoucauld and Nemours. At first the Queen-Regent promised everything, but presently, upon the remonstrance of the exiled Mazarin, went back on her word.

This was sufficient to enrage Condé once more, and a report spread that amid the rural charms of Chantilly he had opened negotiations with Spain. Gondi, Archbishop of Paris, anxious to obtain a scarlet hat for himself, went secretly to the Queen, and knowing that Her Majesty was lamenting Mazarin’s absence, promised her that he and Gaston{057} d’Orléans would bring the Cardinal back from exile if Condé were once more arrested. Condé, although his freedom was so recent, felt insecure and retired with his wife and son to Saint-Maur, where Madame de Longueville joined them; so that he was not present when Louis XIV was proclaimed King, but was holding council with his adherents at Chantilly. “Il faut pousser M. le Prince” was a stock saying of Mazarin and Gondi (now Cardinal de Retz), both of whom were endeavouring to goad Condé to his own destruction.

Louis II de Bourbon, Prince de Condé, along with his many great qualities, had unfortunately inherited also all the faults of the Condés—faults which the Duchesse de Nemours (daughter-in-law of his sister, Madame de Longueville) describes as follows: “Ils avaient des airs si moqueurs, et disaient des choses si offensentes que personne ne les pouvaient souffrir ... quand on leurs déplaisait ils poussaient les gens jusqu’a la dernière extremité, et ils n’etaient capable d’aucune reconnaissance pour les services qu’on leurs avait rendu.” These were the qualities which at this period of his life turned the scale against him. It was not against France or the King that Condé proposed to fight, but against the Italian Cardinal, the trusted confidant of Anne of Austria; and his grievance was that he had not only been deprived of his liberty, but that attempts had even been made upon his life. It was for that reason that Condé did not take part in any of the festive celebrations held at the King{058}’s Proclamation, and he made his excuses in a letter presented to the King by his brother, the Prince de Conti. This was unquestionably a great blunder, and was done against his wife’s wishes, who had given such great proofs of devotion and courage.

On September 13, 1651 Condé retired to Montroux, where his sister, Madame de Longueville, and the leaders of his party triumphed over his last scruples. It was then that he pronounced the famous words: “Vous me forcez à tirer l’epée,—eh bien! soit! mais souvenez vous que je serai le dernier à la remettre dans le fourreau.{059}”

CHAPTER V

CONDÉ’S ALLIANCE WITH SPAIN

CONDÉ’S alliance with Spain against Mazarin was the immediate cause of another civil war in France. The Prince left his wife and son in Bordeaux, where, as we have said, they had already acquired much personal popularity. The history of this town and of its Parlement is of considerable interest. In 1653 the people of Bordeaux sent envoys to England to inquire into the details of the Revolution under Cromwell; whereby we may note what strong Liberal tendencies had already manifested themselves in this place, even at the beginning of the reign of Louis XIII. More than once the townspeople had shown a spirit of rebellion against the Government, and they had espoused, as we have seen, the cause of the Princes against Mazarin during the second Fronde. When the Princesse de Condé returned thither with her husband, she found, to her surprise, that a Republican spirit had developed amongst her former friends, and that they wished to see in Condé an ally rather than a chief. Nor did Condé, although a Prince of the Blood, and well known for his pride of birth, object to signing a Declaration before the Parlement of Bordeaux,{060} whereby he promised not to lay down his arms until he had obtained for his country the following concession, namely: “That the supreme authority should in future be given to a representative of the people, chosen by free men, who were of age and entitled to the vote.”

Mazarin, at the head of a small army, had joined the King at Poitiers, whilst the city of Paris, left under the command of Gaston d’Orléans and the Paris Parlement, declared Condé guilty of high treason. On hearing this the Prince made a desperate effort to reach Paris, and with the help of the Grande Mademoiselle (Gaston’s notorious daughter), who boldly opened the gates to him, he entered the town with his troops at the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, making himself for a moment master of the situation. Unfortunately, however, the bloodshed which took place on this occasion rendered his cause most unpopular, and, finding himself abandoned by the populace, he was soon obliged to retreat before Turenne. Whereupon the young King, accompanied by Mazarin, re-entered the capital and succeeded in controlling it.

Bordeaux meanwhile continued to assert itself as a Republic. There were two parties fighting against one another—the rich bourgeoisie struggling against the lower classes. Claire-Clemence, who was still resident amongst them, strove to make peace between these two parties, but in the middle of it all her health broke down and she was obliged to retire, leaving to Condé’s brother{061} Conti and to his sister, Madame de Longueville, the task of managing public affairs. On hearing, however, that the Chapeau-Rouge party,—that is to say, the rich bourgeoisie,—had actually opened fire upon their rivals, she again made her appearance, accompanied by Lenet and Ormée, the head of the popular party and succeeded in bringing about a peaceful settlement.

Shortly after this, on September 20, 1652, the Princesse de Condé gave birth to another son, to whom was given the name of Louis Bordeaux. The whole city was decorated to celebrate this auspicious event; and there still exists in the archives at Chantilly a letter of Condé’s, wherein he writes as follows: “J’ai une extrême joie de l’accouchement de ma femme; elle serait parfaite si elle se portait bien, et si j’étais assuré son enfant dût vivre.”

Unfortunately, however, Claire-Clemence found herself unable to recover her former strength, and it was terrible news for her that her husband, alone and bereft of his adherents, had left Paris and had even accepted the post of General-in-Chief in the Spanish army. She had stood beside him in his fight against Mazarin and a treacherous and faithless Court; but Richelieu’s niece could not get over the fact that the “Hero of Rocroy” had actually gone over to the enemy. To fill her cup of tribulation Condé found himself in terrible financial difficulties since he had to feed his own troops whilst receiving insufficient support from his allies, the Spaniards, who were themselves unable to offer{062} him material aid. In despair he wrote to Lenet: “Have my silver and plate melted down, and tell my wife to pawn her jewellery. She will, I am sure, not object, nor will my sister refuse to do the same. Borrow wherever you can, and do not hesitate to pay high interest. I am so much in want of money that I do not know what to do.... Sell everything, even to my landed property.”

This was certainly bitter news for the wife of the Grand Condé, and, at the same time, she endured the heavy sorrow of losing her infant son, Louis Bordeaux. In order to provide her husband with necessary material help she ordered her own mode of living with strictest economy and reduced her household. But Madame de Longueville and Conti, realising that their brother was engaged in a hopeless cause, presently left Bordeaux; and the latter, becoming reconciled with Mazarin, not long after married one of his nieces.

Plate XIV.

ANTOINE DE BOURGOGNE, CALLED LE GRAND BÂTARD.
Musée Condé.

Photo. Braun & Co.

Memling.

A general amnesty was now offered to the people of Bordeaux if they would surrender to the King. To this they agreed; and a passport was granted to enable the Princesse de Condé to retire with her son wherever she might choose. Claire-Clemence, for a moment, was undecided whether to join her husband or to go to Flanders. She chose the latter course. She had to part, however, with her elder—now her only—son, the Duc d’Enghien, whose education was committed into the hands of the Jesuits at Antwerp. Broken in health and spirits, she left for Valenciennes, accompanied only by her{063} secretary, the faithful Lenet, and a small suite. Nor was the news which she received from her husband of a nature to restore her health. The success which had hitherto always accompanied him when fighting for his country seemed to have entirely abandoned him since he raised his sword against France. Accused of high treason, abandoned with insufficient resources to meet his liabilities, and frequently prone upon a bed of sickness, we cannot but admire the man who succeeded in facing such terrible trials. More than once he had to rectify grave errors committed by the Spanish generals, even by Don Juan of Austria himself, who was regarded in Spain as a conquering hero.

Mazarin, having succeeded in putting down the civil war, could now turn his attention to the struggle with Spain; and at length the two armies faced one another on the Dunes, near Dunkirk. The Spaniards were led by Condé, the French by Turenne. The hero of Rocroy, so famous for his own strategic powers, as he surveyed the two armies, was struck by the excellent dispositions of Turenne. Addressing himself to a young Englishman who was in his camp, he said, “Have you ever seen how a battle is lost?” “No,” answered the youth. “Well, in less than half an hour you will see such an event,” was Condé’s grave response. His prediction was verified; and Dunkirk was captured by the French, although Condé, with great skill, succeeded in limiting the extent of his rival’s victory.

The result of this battle was the famous{064} “Peace of the Pyrenees,” signed at Münster on November 7, 1659 by Mazarin and Louis de Haros, minister of Philip IV. Amongst the more particular clauses of this Peace was a marriage contract, arranged between Louis XIV and the Infanta Maria Theresa, which had far-reaching consequences. Another stipulation made by Spain was that Condé should be allowed to return to France, and be reinstated in all his rights as a Prince of the Blood. His implacable enemy Mazarin opposed this at first, but through the prayers of his wife and his sister Geneviève de Bourbon the Grand Condé was finally allowed to return home. After having exercised so pernicious an influence over her brother during the second Fronde, and after having brought upon him so many disasters, Geneviève, on the death of her husband, the Duc de Longueville, turned her attention to religion, and retired to the convent at Moulins, where the widowed Marie Felice, last Duchesse de Montmorency, still mourned her dead spouse.

Condé’s letters, whereby he promised fidelity to the King and engaged to live on good terms with the Cardinal, preceded him. Madame de Longueville had, moreover, made great preparations for her brother’s return to Court; whilst Conti, who, as already mentioned, had meantime married one of Mazarin’s nieces, arranged the first meeting between the Prince and the powerful Minister. He was welcomed by the Queen, and presented his respects to the King; and on the following day{065} the Gazette de France announced that he had dined with His Eminence Cardinal Mazarin.

That Condé was truly sorry for having raised his sword against his own country, is proved by the following remark: “When Mazarin had me imprisoned, I was innocent; but I came out of prison the most culpable of men.”

From Paris the Prince went straight to his residence at Saint-Maur to meet Turenne, who appeared at first embarrassed on seeing him. Condé, however, at once addressed his rival in a most friendly manner, and asked his advice regarding the repatriation of his soldiers, many of whom were Swiss and Germans who declined to enter the French army.

When presently Louis XIV made his entry into Paris the Prince de Condé and the Duc d’Enghien appeared amongst the Royal retinue, whilst the Princesse de Condé sat in the State coach with the Queen.

Yet, although established once more as a Prince of the Blood, with all the prerogatives and appurtenances of his rank—even his Government of Burgundy—many years had still to pass before Condé could regain the entire confidence of the King. Nor did Mazarin ever cease to distrust him. And when, before his death, the Minister presented him with a valuable diamond ring, assuring him of his sincere friendship, it was merely a proof of his own power of dissimulation; for, with his last breath, he warned the King to protect his crown from the insatiable ambition of the Grand Condé.{066}

If Condé had hoped to play a prominent part in the public affairs of France after the death of Mazarin, he was mistaken; for the young King, himself full of ambition, announced at the outset that he meant henceforth to rule alone. In accordance with his famous saying “L’Etat c’est moi” Louis now began to reign himself.

For Condé retirement from public life had come too early. His sword which had rendered such great services to France was no longer needed; and he therefore retired to his Château at Chantilly. Here he almost immediately began to make extensive restorations, the completion of which occupied over twenty years, and greatly changed the aspect of the old place, so long abandoned and unoccupied. The financial difficulties in which he found himself on his return were happily overcome by Gourville, who acted energetically as his agent. The celebrated Le Nôtre was called in to lay out the gardens; the vast grounds were converted into parks, interspersed by the charming pieces of water which still exist. With great ingenuity a channel was dug to receive the waters of the streamlet Nonette, an affluent of the Oise, and a hydraulic machine invented by Condé himself—who was as skilled an engineer as he was a soldier—was constructed by Le Manse, under whom all these wonderful waterworks were kept in order. The courtyard which forms the present entrance to the Château dates from that time.

Letters have come down to us in which Condé{067} expresses to Le Nôtre the highest satisfaction with his work. The latter was quite overcome by the Prince’s appreciation, and replied to him: “Jamais l’Honneur que je receu d’embraser nostre Saint Pere, le pape, et de baiser sa mule ne m’a fait tant de bien ny donne tant de joie que celle que je ressenty par la bonté que vous avez eu de me donner le benefice que votre Altesse a refusé a tant de testes couronnees.... Je continueray a eslever mes pensées pour l’embellissement de vos parterres, fontaines, cascades de vostre grand jardin de Chantilly.”

In 1684 Mansart was entrusted with the entire transformation of the interior of the Petit Château; the first floor being arranged for the use of the Grand Condé, whilst the ground floor was reserved for his son, the Duc d’Enghien. The exterior of this exquisite building was fortunately left intact, and has remained unchanged since the time of Anne de Montmorency. Nor has the interior changed since Mansart’s alterations. When the visitor passes through these apartments to-day, he can feel that they are in the same state as when the Grand Condé dwelt there. The Grand Cabinet with its exquisite Beauvais tapestry, its Boulle table, and its Louis XVI consoles and lustres, and the Petit Cabinet where the victor of Rocroy came to rest from his labours, still exist, to recall their former owner. In an adjacent apartment we may admire a fine piece of furniture, companion to the famous Louis XV bureau in the Louvre, upon which is placed the Grand Condé’s own despatch-box.{068} Then there is the Long Gallery, where the painter Sauveur Lecomte has illustrated, under the hero’s own directions, all his victories from the battles of Rocroy, Nördlingen, and Fribourg to the conquest of the Franche Comté, and the campaign and passage of the Rhine.

Mansart, once installed at Chantilly, did not leave it for many years. He unfortunately attempted to tamper with the old feudal castle of the Orgemonts and the mediæval architecture which combined so well with Montmorency’s Petit Château, creating an inordinately lofty building, with a straight line of innumerable windows and attics all precisely similar in form. It was this structure which was razed to the ground at the time of the Revolution, and which was reconstructed in a far more suitable style by the late Duc d’Aumale.{069}

CHAPTER VI

FESTIVITIES AT CHANTILLY

SINCE there was no prospect for Condé to take any prominent lead in the affairs of his own country his name was proposed as a possible successor to the throne of Poland. He declined, however, to accept a crown which had been the cause of so much misery to King Wladislav IV and to his brother Jean Casimir. There being no heir-apparent to that throne the eyes of Marie de Gonzague, Queen of Poland, turned upon the Duc d’Enghien, Condé’s only surviving son, and it was in connection with this idea that a marriage was arranged between Henri Jules de Bourbon and Anne of Bavaria, eldest daughter of the Princess Palatine, sister to the Polish Queen. Claire-Clemence was not over-pleased at the idea of this marriage, since she did not share her husband’s ambitions. The uneasy throne of Poland for her only son was a proposal which she could not face with equanimity.

The union that she would have preferred was one with Mademoiselle d’Alençon, youngest daughter of Gaston d’Orléans, a Princess whom Henri Jules often saw and greatly admired, for the Orléans family at that time lived in the sumptuous{070} Palais d’Orléans, not far from the Palais Condé, which was built on the site now occupied by the Odéon Théâtre. But the Princess could not prevail upon her masterful husband, who had not only taken his son’s education, but also his entire future, into his own hands. The brave lady, who had played so important a part during the Fronde, and had shown so much courage and determination under her many difficulties and trials, had at this time completely broken down in health. She only appeared at Court festivities at long intervals, and although she was present at her son’s marriage she did not join the young couple at Chantilly. The Grand Condé, surrounding himself with friends, lived there from choice; and there Anne de Gonzague paid him frequent visits, whilst Claire-Clemence was left neglected in Paris. Society soon followed suit; and such neglect and isolation told upon a constitution naturally delicate. This Princess, once so full of admiration for her hero, now began to cherish resentment against him; and she who for long years had, in spite of his neglect, never uttered one word of complaint, at last broke out into bitter recrimination. We gather from Condé’s letters that she suffered from violent fits of passion, and that a secret fear lest he should make away with her became more and more a fixed idea. It is said, however, that when she appeared at the baptism of the Dauphin her attitude was full of dignity and commanded involuntary respect. Two years after this an unfortunate incident happened, never entirely{071} explained, which reduced Claire-Clemence to imprisonment for the rest of her life. Condé had compelled her to dismiss a page, named Duval, who had been in her service. She had, however, promised him a pension which it seems was left unpaid. One day, whilst the rest of the servants were at their meals, he penetrated into the Princess’s apartments to beg for his pension. His voice was heard by the page on duty in the next room, who at once entered the chamber in order to protect Her Highness from his importunities. A violent quarrel arose between the two men, and the Princess, in her endeavours to separate them, was severely wounded. When the rest of the servants, on hearing the noise, rushed into the apartment, Her Highness was found unconscious on the floor. This was the version put about in Paris; but Condé, on being informed of it, was beside himself with rage, and caused Duval to be arrested and condemned to the gallows.

Condé, so magnanimous alike to friends and enemies, in this instance behaved most brutally to his wife, and availed himself of this opportunity to get rid of her. Instead of defending her against a scandal which increased day by day from its very mystery, he himself heaped calumny upon her. He immediately left Chantilly for Paris, and without visiting the Princess his wife, went straight to Louis XIV and demanded a lettre de cachet against her. The King, however, with greater humanity, refused his request; upon which Condé{072} returned to Chantilly in great wrath and contrived another scheme. He concocted a document under which the Princess consented to transfer all her property to her son during her lifetime; which deed he persuaded the Duke to present to his mother for signature. There was, however, a clause under which Her Highness was to retain a right of disposal over her jewels. By this scheme he proposed to induce her to retire altogether from the world without offering any defence.

Abandoned by her husband, robbed by her own son—who actually did persuade her to sign the above-mentioned instrument—the unfortunate Princess found herself no longer the courageous woman that she once had been. Instead of rebutting the wicked calumnies which attacked her honour, she merely endeavoured to save the unworthy Duval from the guillotine—a wretch who, under torture, uttered confessions compromising the Princess, which were, however, considered by the Parlement as inconclusive. Condé, furious with his wife as the cause of all this scandal, again demanded of Louis XIV a lettre de cachet and this time secured it. Her very generosity on behalf of the accused Duval was employed as a pretext for separation; and crushed and broken in health and spirits, she was transported one morning to the fortress of Châteauroux. In the presence of her son, the Duc d’Enghien, she said to the curé of Saint-Sulpice, who was her confessor: “This is the last time that I shall be able to talk to you, for I shall never{073} return from the place where the King is pleased to send me. Nevertheless the confession which I have made to you will always prove my innocence.” Embracing her son for the last time, she fainted away; and in that state she was conveyed to the carriage which was to transport her to the distant castle of Châteauroux, where she was to be buried for the remainder of her life. No news of the outer world ever reached her, and even her only child never visited her. This barbarous treatment, this cruel seclusion, brought on hallucinations, during which it is said that she was haunted by the image of her husband. Châteauroux, a gloomy fortress with numerous towers, inspired her with terror; and there were even rumours that she was ill-treated by her gaolers. Madame de Longueville was the only member of the Condé family who showed any pity for this poor, forlorn woman, and she expressed a wish to visit her; but Condé, unrelenting, refused her permission. He sent, however, Père Tixier to ascertain whether she had all she needed, who reported that she seemed to be in constant terror lest the food offered to her might contain poison. Through many long years she dragged on a sad life in this cruel solitude; and not even the news of her husband’s death, whom she outlived by several years, reached her. Unrelenting to the last, Condé is said to have written on his death-bed a private letter to Louis XIV, desiring him as a favour never to release Claire-Clemence. When at last death delivered her, she{074} was buried in the little church of St. Martin, within the precincts of Châteauroux. Only a few Franciscan monks and some poor people of the neighbourhood, whom out of her own scanty resources she had continually assisted, attended at her funeral. Neither her son nor any of her relations were present. When, in 1793, this little church was restored, her remains were thrown to the winds, and not one of her descendants took the trouble to raise a protest. More than a century had to pass before even one voice was raised in defence of this cruelly wronged woman. Louis Joseph de Bourbon, the father of the last Condé, in his Biography of his famous ancestor, could not refrain from a severe condemnation of the cruelty with which the “Hero” had treated the wife who had shown so much courage and loyalty on his behalf.

The noble-minded Duc d’Aumale, in his History of the Princes de Condé, is also full of sympathy and appreciation for poor Claire-Clemence; although he endeavours to excuse the great Condé’s conduct towards her by explaining the repugnance he must have felt for Richelieu’s niece.

A curious circumstance which seems still further to enhance the tragic fate which befell Claire-Clemence is the indifference shown to her by her own nearest relatives. At the very time when she was pining away in the fortress of Châteauroux, not only her husband but her son also seems to have felt no pity nor care for her. At Chantilly,{075} where Anne de Gonzague reigned supreme, festivity followed festivity, and it was she who received the crowds of guests who thronged to visit that delectable resort.

The visits to Fontainebleau, where, after the death of the Regent, the King so often shut himself up for hours together, are described as being very tame compared with those to Chantilly, where the time passed far more agreeably. Turenne and the Maréchal de Grammont were frequently invited. Also such celebrated men of letters as Boileau, Racine, Corneille, La Fontaine, and Molière found their way thither; for Condé took a great personal interest in their works, and helped and encouraged them considerably. Boileau was a specially welcome guest at Chantilly. Once, however, during an animated conversation with the Prince, he contradicted him in some statement; but noticing an angry look upon His Highness’s countenance, he became alarmed, and, making a profound bow, said: “Je serais toujours de l’avis de M. le Prince, surtout quand il aura tort”—a piece of tact which was much appreciated by his host, and disarmed his anger. Condé was also the first to recognise the greatness of Molière, and to protect him from his rivals. The Precieuses Ridicules were first acted at Chantilly, and the players were lodged there for over a week. When Louis XIV fell so passionately in love with Madame de Montespan, Molière wrote his poem Amphitryon, wherein he advises{076} husbands to offer to Jupiter a share of their nuptial love—a work which he dedicated to the Prince de Condé. It was Boileau who brought Racine to Chantilly, and his tragedies were often performed there. Moreover, the Court itself paid prolonged visits to the Grand Condé, and thither thronged all the most distinguished personages in Europe. Madame de Sévigné, in her famous Letters, describes the “delices” of Chantilly; and descriptions of festive gatherings of all kinds held there are frequently to be found throughout the records of the period. The Gazette devoted many columns to details regarding pleasure and hunting parties and lunches at the Maison de Sylvie.

In the month of April 1671 Chantilly opened its portals to receive Louis XIV and his bride, the Infanta Maria Theresa. The Château itself was reserved for the Royal party, whilst the courtiers and the officers of the suite were lodged throughout the neighbouring villages. Sixty tables were served three times a day; and it was during this Royal visit that Vatel, the maître d’hôtel, whose skill directed the whole, suddenly committed suicide because he was unable to provide the necessary fish on a fast-day. He was greatly mourned, especially by his master; but a substitute was soon found, who succeeded even better than his predecessor, so far eclipsing him, in fact, that his loss was soon forgotten.

Louis XIV was so charmed with this visit that he is said to have been inspired by Chantilly to{077} create Versailles. “Mon cousin” he jokingly said to Condé when leaving, “il faut que vous me cédiez Chantilly.” To which Condé promptly replied, “Chantilly est aux ordres du roi. J’espère que sa majesté me nommera son concierge.{078}”

CHAPTER VII

THE GRAND CONDÉ A WARRIOR ONCE MORE

SHORTLY after this memorable visit of the Court to Chantilly the Prince de Condé was summoned by the King to Paris to give his opinion upon a possible conquest of Holland. The truth was that the youthful monarch, thirsting for military glory, had but recently uttered the celebrated statement that the only way to conquer the Spanish Netherlands was to subdue and annihilate the Dutch.

Upon the death of Philip IV of Spain the French King had immediately asserted the Flemish rights of his wife Maria Theresa, daughter of the late King of Spain by his first wife. According to the ancient Statutes of Brabant there was no doubt about her title to this inheritance, but, since the long-drawn-out negotiations regarding it led to nothing, Louis XIV suddenly declared war. His Majesty had not forgotten Condé’s successes at Rocroy, Nördlingen and Lens, and his admiration for the Prince’s skill in strategy and geography was unbounded. In the exuberance of his imagination he even contemplated, with the aid of so great a hero, the subjugation of the whole of Europe.

It was in this spirit that Louis, accompanied by Turenne, marched into Flanders, and made Lille{079} a French town; whilst Condé once more surprised the world by his conquest of the whole of Franche-Comté in less than a month. England, Holland, and Sweden, terrified at the young King’s ambition and the success of the French arms, promptly entered into a Triple Alliance, which arrested the conquering hero in full career and brought about the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, whereby he was forced to be content with Flanders alone. But such terms were scarcely calculated to satisfy the ambitions of either the King, his generals, or the French nation. Hostilities were therefore soon resumed. With an army of thirteen thousand men commanded by Condé and Turenne Louis advanced on Holland. He crossed the Rhine, devastating and conquering everything before him. No less than ninety-five towns and villages capitulated in ten days. Holland, conscious of her inability to resist, begged for peace, but the French, encouraged by their successes, refused to lend an ear to her entreaties.

It was then that William of Orange conceived the daring plan of submerging the whole of Holland by piercing the dykes. In this way the French were brought up short in their destructive course by an inundation which lasted over two years. Louis, obliged by these circumstances to postpone for a time the conquest of Holland, retired to Saint-Germain and left to Turenne the arduous task of remaining with the army. Condé, meanwhile, led the advance-guard with a rapidity which in less than nine{080} days made him master of six strong fortresses on the Rhine; and it apparently only remained for him to cross the Yssel to where the young Prince of Orange was stationed. Once more he displayed remarkable military strategy in crossing this river at a point where he was unexpected: and two Dutch regiments ordered to oppose him were cut to pieces by overwhelming numbers, so that the French troops there and then crossed the Rhine without hindrance. Montbas, the Dutch General, accused of treason, was supplanted at the last moment by de Wirty, in order to shield William of Orange himself, who recognized his mistake too late.

This easy victory, however, was marred by an event which proved most unfortunate in its consequences. When the French squadrons had reached the opposite bank of the river Condé, with his son and his nephew, the Duc de Longueville, also crossed immediately in a boat, followed by their men and horses. The Princes, on landing, promptly threw themselves into their saddles, and riding ahead fell in with a small body of Dutch soldiers, who begged for mercy. The young Duc de Longueville, without waiting for the decision of his chief, cried out: “Pas de quartier,” and fired off his pistol. The Dutch promptly replied with a volley, one shot of which struck de Longueville and mortally wounded him, whilst another seriously injured Condé himself. The Prince and his dead nephew were immediately transported to a fisherman’s hut. By a strange coincidence, the mourners{081} were met by the Ambassador of Poland, who had come to offer the crown of the Jagellons—refused by Condé for his own son—to the unfortunate young Duke.

Condé’s wound changed the course of the whole campaign, since it incapacitated him at the supreme moment when he might have reaped the full advantages of his victory. The wound healed but slowly, and his son, Henri Jules, could not replace him at the head of his troops. Time lost to the French was time gained by William of Orange, who, as has been said, conceived the heroic plan of inundating Holland, whereby the French military operations became impossible. The auspicious moment for invading Holland being thus lost, Condé travelled slowly back to Chantilly, where he found a much-needed rest, and by degrees recovered his health.

On his way back he had an interview at Port Royal with his sister, the Duchesse de Longueville, who, on hearing of her bereavement, gave way to long but silent grief; and, retiring from the world, passed her days in prayer and fasting for the repose of the soul of her dead son. Subsequently she became a devout Jansenist.

Louis’ ambitious plans to conquer Europe, frustrated for the moment, had now roused Spain, Denmark, and some of the German Princes to take up arms to prevent possible renewed attacks upon their territories; and two great soldiers came forward to keep guard upon the Rhine: William{082} of Brandenburg (a hero himself and ancestor of heroes), and Montecucoli (so named after his feudal castle), who took the command of the Imperial troops. Condé, hardly yet recovered, was summoned by his sovereign, and was requested once more to operate in the Netherlands. William of Orange began by attacking the French army at Senef, and in spite of the “fougue” of Condé the battle remained undecided. Turenne, meanwhile, was manœuvring on the Rhine against Montecucoli, who was marching on Alsace; he succeeded in repulsing the Imperial troops near the Neckar, taking Heidelberg and Mannheim, and forcing his way into the Palatinate. Suddenly, however, he had to change his tactics owing to the unexpected appearance of the Margrave of Brandenburg; and the French commander’s plans terminated in a campaign in Alsace, where he was victorious at Mulhouse and Schletstadt. In that same year he was also confronted by Montecucoli, and unfortunately met his death at Salzbach before any decisive battle had been fought. His loss was a severe blow to his soldiers. Condé was immediately sent for; and, inspired by the memory of the dead general, followed his tactics, and succeeded without a single battle in driving the Imperial troops back across the Rhine. This was precisely what the King and his minister, Louvois, desired; for Montecucoli was thus shut out of Alsace, and obliged to take up his winter-quarters on the far side of the Rhine. By these brilliant operations{083} Condé preserved Turenne’s army, and terminated this great campaign, in which were engaged three of the most celebrated generals of the period: Montecucoli, the profound strategist, the sagacious Turenne, and the great Condé, who in the cause of France was always victorious.

These were his last exploits, and he returned to Chantilly, there to pass a life of peaceful quiet until his death in 1687. Madame de Sévigné, who was repeatedly invited to the Château, says in her Letters that Condé was quite admirable in his retreat, from which he only emerged occasionally to pay a visit to the King at Fontainebleau, Paris, or Versailles, where a splendid suite of apartments was always reserved for him. Chantilly at that time became a small Court in itself. Not only was it a resort for kings, princes, ambassadors, generals, and statesmen, who never omitted to pay their respects to the Grand Condé, but it was also a rallying-place for the most distinguished literary and scientific men of the day. Here Bossuet, Fénelon, and the philosopher Malebranche, the poets Corneille, Racine, and Molière discussed their works and their theories in that avenue in the park which to this day bears the name of “the Philosophers.”

The newest books and publications passed their first public ordeal at Chantilly; and at the theatrical representations which frequently took place there, the greatest actors of the day produced famous plays, or made their début. The Prince kept a special{084} company of comedians in his own pay at Rouen for practice, so anxious was he that they should perform at Chantilly to the utmost perfection; and he himself distributed to them their various parts.

His interest in scientific discoveries was also very great, and he studied all the latest books upon these subjects. The humorous letters addressed to him upon such matters by that fantastic personage Bourdelot still exist. The famous waterworks at Chantilly, imitated later at Versailles, were to a great extent, as we have already remarked, planned and carried out according to his own designs. Nor was he lacking in artistic interest, for he made important additions to the collection of manuscripts founded by his ancestors, the Montmorencys; and during his stay in Holland he collected many Dutch pictures and some fine furniture, which may still be seen in his own rooms at the Petit Château. For him Charles Le Brun and Mignard worked assiduously, and some of the paintings by Paul Veronese, Guido, Guercino, the Carraccis, Van Dyck, and Antonio Moro which now adorn the walls of the Musée Condé were acquired by him.

His passion for the chase was notorious; and hunting and hawking in the woods of Chantilly were amongst his greatest pleasures. He revived the art of hawking, introduced into Europe from Arabia by the Crusaders, and he is said to have taken particular interest in his own hawks, conferring upon each of them individual names.

Plate XV.

Photo. Giraudon.

Molière. By Miguard.
Musée Condé.

In concluding these notices on the life and{085} character of the Grand Condé, we must not forget to mark a trait in his character which has perhaps not been hitherto so generally acknowledged: namely, a feeling that he owed it to family tradition to protect the Huguenots. When therefore Louis XIV revoked the Edict of Nantes, and thereby caused an exodus of some of the best amongst his subjects, Condé, wherever it was possible, protected the persecuted Protestants; and Chantilly itself became a shelter for Huguenot fugitives.

Disappointed in his own son, Henri Jules de Bourbon—a man devoid of all ability, whose chief aim was to follow the Dauphin’s hounds—Condé in his old age attempted to take in hand the education of his grandson, the young Duc de Bourbon, and of his favourite nephew, François, Prince de Conti, left orphaned by the early death of his father. By these means he hoped to restore the glory of the race: for François de Conti had displayed military talent and great valour during the famous day of Steinkerque, where two horses were killed under him, and where he contributed greatly to the victory achieved by French arms. For the benefit of these two young men, Condé invited to Chantilly La Bruyère, who had been introduced to him by Bossuet, and engaged him to undertake their education. But the Duke, like his father, was too much attracted by the Court of Louis XIV. At a very early age his father arranged an alliance for him with Mademoiselle de Nantes, a daughter of the King by Madame de Montespan, and contemporary{086} chronicles are filled with references to this child-marriage, which was celebrated with the greatest pomp; the bride being but thirteen and the bride-groom seventeen years of age. After the nuptials, the two children took their places in a state bed, supported on either side by their respective mothers: but as soon as festivities were over they were separated and only permitted to see each other in the presence of their relations. The new Duchesse de Bourbon was extremely handsome; but her husband was rather small and of an unamiable disposition. His shortcomings were, however, compensated for by the brilliant valour which he displayed at a subsequent period.

Bossuet himself was prevailed upon to give instruction to the young Duke. This famous prelate was always greatly admired by the Grand Condé. Upon one occasion we are told that he entered the Church of the Minimes, when the great philosopher happened to be preaching. Bossuet, who was arguing upon the vanity of the glories of this world to which Condé had sacrificed so much, suddenly perceived the hero among the audience. Whereupon, with his customary skill, on the spur of the moment he introduced an appropriate compliment by pointing out how the Prince de Condé, after having been so long the ornament of his century, was now also endeavouring to attain Eternal Life—an immortality more lasting than that which worldly fame affords.

In early life Condé had been a member of a society{087} of free-thinkers, to which the Princesses Marie and Anne de Gonzague had also belonged. He had studied Spinoza, and had approved of his pantheistic doctrines; then, gradually leaving Spinoza, he took up Descartes. Later the example of his sister, Madame de Longueville—who, from leading a worldly life, had become a pious Jansenist—made a deep impression upon him: as did also the death of Anne de Gonzague, who, after a life of wildest excitement, had before her end become a sincere and devout penitent. In his old age he often sought the company of a friend of his early youth and college-days at Bourges, who had distinguished himself as a brilliant orator. Shortly before his death, in company with this friend, Condé went to receive the Holy Communion at his parish church of Saint-Sulpice; and on leaving was met by the plaudits of the people of Paris. His own adherence to the Catholic Faith did not, however, change his friendly attitude towards the Huguenots, nor did it alter in any way his mode of living at Chantilly. Madame de Langeron at that time did the honours of his house, and the freedom of thought which reigned there so much appreciated by men like La Bruyère and Bossuet, was never interfered with. Saint-Évremond sang Condé’s praise in the following characteristic verses:

Bossuet has described the last moments of the hero: “Such as he was in his warrior days, resolute, quiet, always occupied, without anxiety for what had to be done, such was he in his last hour. Nor did death seem to him any more repulsive or terrible now than in the midst of battle and victory.”

Whilst his family and friends shed copious tears as his end approached, he continued to give all necessary orders; and he remembered everyone, from the highest to the lowest of his friends and attendants, showering gifts upon them all with a munificence fully in accordance with his high rank and generous heart.{089}

CHAPTER VIII

THE LAST CONDÉS

WHEN Henri Jules de Bourbon succeeded to the Condé inheritance, he continued with filial piety to carry out all the improvements and additions to Chantilly which his father had planned. François Mansart, the most fashionable architect of the period, had by that time nearly completed those unfortunate alterations which transformed the ancient feudal fortress into a species of Versailles. This Prince also built the parish church on a site presented by the Grand Condé to the inhabitants of the hamlet which had begun to form itself around the castle. He completed the menagerie and by his orders Mansart built an orangery ending in a pavilion called by him Le Pavillon d’Oronthée. Statues of the Grand Condé, of Bossuet, of Molière, of Le Nôtre, and of La Bruyère, executed by the most famous sculptors of the day, were placed along the Terrasse du Connétable; whilst marble copies of celebrated antiques were set up in the gardens and park. He spoke of Chantilly as “ses delices” and was never weary of planning improvements there. He also directed that the famous deeds of his father should be recorded on{090} canvas by Sauveur Lecomte in accordance with directions left by that hero himself.

In 1688 the Prince de Condé entertained at Chantilly the Grand Dauphin, only son of Louis XIV, with whom he was on terms of great intimacy; and the apartments in the Petit Château occupied by that Prince were those once inhabited by the Grand Condé himself. A description of the entertainments given upon this occasion may be read in the Mercure de France of that year, as follows: “A great battue had been arranged, and the Dauphin appears to have been delighted by the enjoyment of such splendid sport. Luncheon was served on a big stone table in the middle of the forest.[12] On the centre of the table was placed a basket containing the most exquisite fruit, and during the repast mythological deities made their appearance whilst dances were performed to the sound of appropriate music. Every day—and the Dauphin remained for seven—some new diversion was contrived.”

As Henri Jules de Condé grew older he seldom left Chantilly. His temper became more and more violent and difficult; and during his last years he rarely appeared at Court. He died in 1709, leaving a legacy to the Hospital at Chantilly, which had been founded by his grandmother, Charlotte de Montmorency.

The Duc de Bourbon, generally known as{091} Louis III, Prince de Condé, died soon after his father. Louise Françoise, his wife, had presented him with six daughters and three sons; of whom the eldest, Louis Henri, succeeded to the title of Prince de Condé at the early age of eighteen.[13] He, like his predecessors, also spent great sums on the embellishment of Chantilly. By him were built the great stables—a monument unique of its kind—in which vast buildings more than two hundred horses and packs of hounds for fox, deer, and boar hunts, were housed. In the adjoining courtyards were lodged their numerous attendants—piqueurs, chasseurs, and stable-boys—and the carriages, coaches, etc., needed for such an establishment. The central cupola of this stupendous edifice was originally adorned with a statue of La Renommée, but this was destroyed by a cannon-ball during the Revolution of 1792.

The famous Duchesse de Berry, daughter of the Regent and wife of the younger grandson of Louis XIV, passed a whole week at Chantilly as the guest of this Prince; and great magnificence was displayed for her entertainment. Saint-Simon in his Mémoires relates an incident which happened during these festivities. On the farther side of the grand canal the Duke kept a very beautiful menagerie, full of rare animals and fine birds; and whilst the company were strolling about and playing games in the grounds a huge tiger escaped{092} and prowled about the gardens to the terror of the gay revellers. After some time, however, and fortunately before any accident had occurred, the beast was captured and induced to return to his cage.

In consequence of the numerous royal visits paid to him, Louis Henri entirely remodelled the interior of the Grand Château. The King’s Apartment was over the Museum; it extended from the Chapel to the so-called North Tower, and was composed of guard-rooms, long galleries, and vast chambers. That of the Queen was over the present Entrance-Hall, and ran as far as the Treasury towers. From it one could penetrate into the Chapel, which at that time was situated where is now the splendid staircase leading to the Museum.

During the time of this Prince the youthful Louis XV came to Chantilly from Reims. He arrived in the evening and the whole place was beautifully illuminated—so much so that “every detail of the building could be seen as if in broad daylight.” The festivities on this occasion were many and various. The chase during the day and in the evening performances by an Italian comedy company engaged for the occasion, and by a famous ballet which lasted four-and-twenty hours.

In 1723, after the death of the Regent, the Duc de Bourbon became Prime Minister of France. His wife, Anne Marie de Bourbon, had died and his mistress, the famous Marquise de Prie, reigned{093} supreme—an even more fascinating, and certainly a more intelligent woman than the Montespans, Pompadours, and Du Barrys, who so completely succeeded in captivating the Bourbon Kings. She possessed a beautiful voice, with which she interpreted Italian music, learnt during her stay in Turin where her husband for many years had been ambassador. She also, like Madame de Pompadour, patronised art and had portraits of herself painted by Rosalba and Vanloo. Her house was furnished with exquisite taste, and she understood to perfection the arts of the toilet. At first she devoted herself to a life of pleasure, but she soon saw the wisdom of becoming her lover’s adviser-in-chief. In order to shield him against the intrigues of the Orleans family—as long as the King remained unmarried and without a nearer heir—she persuaded the Prime Minister that the Spanish Infanta, daughter of Philip V, who had been educated at the French Court and was intended to be the future Queen-Consort of France—though she was still a child of not much more than ten years old—should be sent back to her father. When this had been accomplished a marriage was speedily arranged with Maria Leczinska of Poland, although she was several years older than the young King. This act led to an immediate rupture with Spain and brought no political advantage to France. But in order to understand to the full the game played here by Madame de Prie, we should note that Maria Leczinska had been at first intended for Monsieur le{094} Duc; wherefore by making her Queen of France she not only hoped to keep her lover to herself, but also to get ascendancy over the King through a queen whom she had helped to raise to so exalted a position. Somewhat unexpectedly, however, she found an implacable enemy in Cardinal Fleury, who was to Louis XV what Richelieu and Mazarin had been to his predecessors. He had been the young King’s preceptor and exercised a great influence over him. When it occurred to Fleury that he might become Prime Minister in place of the Duc de Bourbon the latter, notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of Madame de Prie, was compelled to yield and to resign on the charge that he had confided affairs of State to unqualified persons. He retired to Chantilly with his mistress, where, the lady received a most discourteous welcome from Madame la Duchesse Douarière; and to the grief and dismay of the Duke a lettre de cachet from the King presently commanded her to retire to a property in Normandy which belonged to her long-neglected husband. The Duc de Bourbon never ceased to regret her, because, as he asserted, he felt that she was so devoted to his interests as to have subordinated every other sentiment. She only survived her humiliation a few years; but it was some time after her death before the childless Duke thought of remarrying. His choice fell upon a young princess of Hesse Rhinfeld, whose eldest sister had married the King of Sardinia. The new Duchess, who was barely{095} fifteen, was as beautiful and graceful as she was good. This marriage put an end to the disgrace into which the Duke had fallen at Court; and from that time Louis XV, who very much admired the young châtelaine of Chantilly, never went to Compiègne without paying her a visit on the way. In memory of these Royal visits he sent her a beautiful spray of diamonds, which the Duc de Luignes in his Mémoires values at seventy-two thousand francs. The same writer adds that in the month of August 1738 the King came to Chantilly for a stag-hunt; and that he arrived at the Château in a gondola, accompanied by four Court ladies. The Duke and Duchess received this gay party and supper was immediately served, but next morning the heat was so excessive that the stag-hunt had to be abandoned. At nine o’clock, however, His Majesty promenaded upon the terrace, while airs from well-known operas were sung to amuse him. The Queen, Maria Leczinska, also enjoyed strolling about the gardens and driving through the park, where all sorts of games were specially devised for her.

In 1740 the Duc de Bourbon fell ill and died rather suddenly. His young wife survived him barely a year; and their only son, Louis Joseph, then but five years of age, was left to the charge of his grandmother. She presented him soon after to Louis XV as Prince de Condé, and it was then remarked that he was very fair and tall for his age. His uncle, the Comte de Charolais, meantime{096} administered the property at Chantilly with great judgment and skill on behalf of his nephew and ward.

The young Prince was taken to Chantilly by his uncle for the first time at the age of fourteen, and all sorts of amusements suitable for his age were prepared for his pleasure. He at once conceived a great affection for the place, which continued for the rest of his life.

When he attained the age of seventeen his uncle Charolais considered it time for him to marry, and proposed to him several suitable matches. At one of the entertainments given to further this end the young Prince’s choice fell on Charlotte de Rohan Soubise, a young lady renowned for her grace and beauty; and their marriage was celebrated at Versailles with great pomp. The young couple passed their honeymoon at Chantilly and, according to the chronicles of the old Château, they immediately commenced to display the traditional Condé taste for profuse hospitality. Balls, theatricals, garden-fêtes, etc., followed each other in quick succession for six weeks.

Plate XVI.

CHARLOTTE, PRINCESSE DE CONDÉ, WIFE OF LOUIS JOSEPH DE BOURBON.
Musée Condé.

Jean M. Nattier.

In 1756 their son and heir was born. At first he was known as the Duc d’Enghien but this was afterwards changed to Duc de Bourbon. The second child was a daughter, Louise de Condé, subsequently famed for her great intelligence and beauty. The Princess Charlotte de Soubise was a general favourite at Court; but in spite of her many social engagements she never neglected her maternal{097} duties and always showed herself a most devoted wife and mother.

The Prince, notwithstanding his domestic felicity, considered it his duty to add a “sprig of laurel” to the trophies of his glorious ancestor, the Grand Condé. He therefore joined the army and greatly distinguished himself during the Seven Years’ War. In 1762 he gained the victories of Grinningen and Johannesberg.

The sudden death of his wife the Princesse de Condé from an attack of diphtheria put an end to his conjugal happiness; but to Chantilly he always returned after his campaigns, so as to be in the old home and with his children. A highly cultured gentleman, he took intense interest in literature and scientific research, enriching with numerous volumes the library of the Château and adding thereto mineralogical and physiological collections of great value.

His only son, Louis Henri Joseph de Bourbon, when just fifteen was affianced to Louise Marie Thérèse Bathilde d’Orléans, five years his senior and an intimate friend of his sister Louise. Even in those days of early marriages this union was considered abnormal, and it was at first arranged that the young couple should wait for a time. But the youthful pair threatened to elope unless they were allowed to marry that same year, so with “un éclat de rire” the King gave his consent.

When Marie Antoinette as Dauphine visited Chantilly the grace and charm of the young Duchess, who presided over the brilliant fêtes given upon that{098} occasion, were much admired. Louis Joseph, like the Grand Condé, was passionately devoted to the art of the stage, and his daughter-in-law, like so many great ladies of her time, was distinguished for her literary talents. She herself composed the comedies in which she, her husband, and her Royal guests took part.

The theatre at Chantilly, celebrated for its elaborate decorations and beautiful scenery, was approached by a terrace adorned by forty-eight marble vases; whence a double staircase led through the Salon d’Apollon. Palm-trees formed an avenue before its entrance, and the back of the theatre opened upon the garden, where a statue of Diana surrounded by waterfalls stood in the background. Amongst the improvements in the gardens first introduced by this Prince was a “Hameau,” which was erected long before that in the Petit Trianon at Versailles.

From the time of Henri IV Chantilly, as we have seen, had been a favourite pleasure-resort for Royal personages. Louis XV used to combine excursions thither with his visits to Versailles. The King of Denmark, the hereditary Prince of Prussia, and Gustavus III, King of Sweden, were all entertained at the Château; and the latter presented to the Prince de Condé the magnificent cabinet containing many strange and curious minerals now at the Musée Condé.

In 1782 the Comte du Nord, afterwards the Emperor Paul of Russia, with his wife, Dorothea of{099} Wurtemberg, paid a long visit to Chantilly. One of the Russian ladies-in-waiting, the Baroness Oberkirch, gives the following description of their stay: “We joined the Prince at eleven o’clock, which was the dinner-hour. This dinner, which opened the fêtes of the day—we were a hundred and fifty at table—was splendid, and quite in accordance with the traditions of this princely house, so famous for its magnificent hospitality. When we left the dining-hall we found carriages waiting for us. The Prince and the Duke, his son, themselves drove us along the avenues, where a thousand surprises were prepared for us. The trees were hung with flags and decorated with the Russian colours. After the drive we went to the theatre. They played The Friend of the House, The Supposed Poet, and The Fifteen-year-old Lover. The latter piece told the love-story of the Duc and Duchesse de Bourbon and had been played on the eve of their wedding. It ended with a fine ballet. On coming out we found the gardens illuminated and fireworks blazing all round, while the façade of the Château was decorated with the heraldic bearings of the Emperor and Empress. Supper was served on the Isle d’Amour and then followed a ball which was so gay and full of merriment that it seemed to us a quite exceptional thing, since this is not usually the case amongst princes. The next morning a hunting-party was arranged, a diversion of which the Condé princes and princesses are particularly fond. A stag was{100} hunted for three hours, and when at last he went into the water he was followed by the whole pack of hounds. The sight was really superb.”

A picture representing this famous hunting-party was painted by Le Paon and presented to the Russian Emperor. It still hangs in one of the Imperial Palaces in St. Petersburg; but a copy was offered to the Duc d’Aumale by the Grand Duke Wladimir, which is now in the Musée Condé.

Another day the magnificent stables were visited and dinner was served in the central hall beneath the cupola. Much admiration was expressed for the gorgeous hangings which divided this part of the building from the rest. When the Royal party left the table these hangings were lifted on both sides, so as to exhibit the two hundred and forty horses stabled in either wing.

At that time two bronze horses stood beside the great fountain, which was completed in 1782. But they disappeared during the Revolution.

The hostess upon this occasion was the Princesse Louise de Condé, for the Duchesse de Bourbon, after but a few years of married life, separated herself from her gay young husband. This Princess inherited her father’s great qualities. She had been educated in the same convent where a relation of hers, Henriette de Bourbon Condé, was Abbess under the name of Madame de Vermandois—a lady of whom it was rumoured that she had refused to marry Louis XV and had preferred the life of a convent to that of Queen of France! Over the young Princesse{101} de Condé she exercised great influence and Princesse Louise tells us that she looked upon her as a mother, since she had never known her own. Of her father she saw very little; but in her childhood he used to send the Surveyor of the Province to her every Sunday to ask whether she wanted anything. At the age of twelve she left this peaceful life for Paris, where she attached herself to her cousin Princesse Bathilde d’Orléans, who presently became her sister-in-law.

These two Princesses had each a royal household of their own, with maids-of-honour and attendants; and they were permitted to receive the visits of relations and certain selected friends. The Duc de Bourbon, whose attachment to his sister was the one redeeming point in his otherwise unsatisfactory character, often came to see her, and it was during one of these visits that he first met his wife.

The Princesse Louise de Condé at this time was presented at Court, where her beauty and grace created a great sensation; and she then received the title of “Mademoiselle.” The Duc d’Artois, third son of the Grand Dauphin, was greatly attracted by her, and a marriage between them was much discussed in Court circles. It was even said that it was desired by the people; but Louis XV, wishing to revenge himself upon Louis Joseph for having opposed the “pacte de famine,”[14] insisted on his{102} grandson marrying Marie Thérèse of Savoy. This bitter disappointment, coming to her in yet tender years, made a deep impression upon the Princess, and from thenceforth she preferred solitude to worldly pleasure. She continued to reside in the Convent, refusing all other proposals of marriage, and devoting herself to literature. Later on in life she indulged in a platonic friendship with the Marquis de Gervaisais, who is said to have collaborated with her in the drama of Friendman. They often made excursions together from the watering-place of Bourbon d’Archambault, where the Princess had gone for her health, to visit the old Château de Bourbon; and it was during these excursions, amid ruins clad with ivy “as with a Royal mantle,” that the young poet wrote this drama (subsequently acted at Bourbon d’Archambault), wherein he hymned the praises of his adored Princess. “L’âme n’a pas d’âge, comme elle n’a pas de sexe” wrote her admirer.

But Louise de Condé, who at first had given herself up entirely to the joy of meeting with a kindred soul, recoiled suddenly on finding that this friendship was on both sides fast approaching passionate love. At a period of history when princely personages rarely denied themselves anything that attracted their fancy, it is remarkable to find a Princess who held such a high moral standard, and this also at a time when Madame du Barry was the supreme ruler of the Kingdom of France. The Princess went so far as to force herself{103} to give up this friendship, because she became aware that her sentiments towards the poet were after all not wholly platonic, and that she, as a Princess of the Blood, could not marry him.

It is characteristic of the customs of the period that Louis Joseph looked very indulgently upon his daughter’s friendship, and even proposed to secure for the Marquis de Gervaisais means for leaving his regiment at Saumur in order to come to Paris and thus be able to meet the Princess more freely. It was the lady herself who could not be induced to do aught that might bring a stain upon her name; and she wrote a most touching letter of farewell to Gervaisais, imploring him not to answer it, nor to try to meet her again, requests which his unbounded love for her induced him to accede to.

The festivities given in honour of the Russian Grand Duke were the last of the entertainments held at Chantilly; for, although the Princesse Louise in the absence of the Duchesse de Bourbon made a charming hostess, the separation of her brother from his wife, who had returned to her own family, cast an inevitable gloom over Chantilly. The young heir, the Duc d’Enghien, however, became warmly attached to his aunt, who acted as a mother to him. He was highly gifted and very proud of his famous ancestor, the Grand Condé. On taking his seat in the Parlement at the early age of sixteen he made a most able speech; whereupon the President remarked that never before had three members of the Condé family honoured the House of Peers at the same{104} time. This, alas! was not for long; for we now approach that fateful year 1789, and the horrors of the French Revolution.

In July of that year, late in the evening, an adjutant of the Prince de Condé arrived breathless at the Château, bringing tidings of the terrible events which had just occurred in Paris. He told how a bullet aimed at the Royal carriage had killed a woman standing near; and how the King had been applauded when he appeared on the balcony bearing a “cocarde tricolore.” On hearing this, the three Princes de Condé accompanied by Princess Louise departed next day for Versailles. Their advice to Louis XVI was “not to yield”—advice which the King was loth to follow. The three Condés, seeing that they could not prevail upon him to remain firm, determined to quit France so as to be able themselves to remain true to their Royalist principles. In taking leave of the King, Louis Joseph said that he would endeavour to serve the Monarchy abroad, since he could no longer serve it in France.

Plate XVII.

LOUIS JOSEPH DE BOURBON, PRINCE DE CONDE.
Musée Condé.

Madame de Tott.

The three Princes returned to Chantilly for one day only, and then left France for Germany. The youngest, the Duc d’Enghien, was destined never to see his ancestral home again. It must have been a touching spectacle to see the old Prince de Condé, accompanied by his daughter, his son the Duc de Bourbon, and his grandson the Duc d’Enghien, leaving the sumptuous abode of their ancestors, so full of glorious memories. The Comte d’Artois—afterwards Charles X—followed their{105} example; and numerous French officers volunteered to make common cause with Prince Louis Joseph de Condé, whose name was associated so closely with the glories of France.

There still exists a history of Condé’s army written by Bittard des Portes, wherein is related in detail the courage and fortitude with which these French emigrés endured their great privations. The Austrian General Würsmer, we are told, was deeply moved at the sight of Condé’s regiment, which he styled “la vielle France militaire”; and Napoleon, in his Memoirs, when speaking of the Condés and their army abroad, wrote: “La France donna la mort à leur action, mais des larmes à leur courage. Tout dévoûment est héroïque.{106}”

CHAPTER IX

CHANTILLY DURING THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

NO sooner had Chantilly been deserted by its owners than a detachment of the National Guard of Paris was sent down to the Château. The twenty-seven cannons were first seized: then all the arms found were taken away; and finally the whole property was confiscated. Next a band of six hundred soldiers arrived, devastated the place, and removed what they pleased. Fortunately, the art-treasures did not attract them, as is proved by the Inventory made in 1793 of the pictures and furniture then at Chantilly—a document which took forty days and cost 2,130 francs to draw up.

Throughout the period of the Revolution the Château at Chantilly was used as a prison for political offenders; and the first arrivals were forty-one persons from Beauvais,[15] amongst whom were M. des Courtils de Merlemont, Knight of St. Louis, with his wife and son. On the road thither they were deliberately exposed to the insults of the mob, but they escaped the execution which they anticipated. Arriving at two o’clock in the morning,{107} they were thrust into the Chapel, but later on they were lodged in the Château itself, which had been already demolished to such a degree that none of the rooms were wind or weather tight.

The moats had been allowed to dry up, so that they began to exhale unwholesome odours; and the number of sick persons amongst the prisoners soon amounted to over three hundred. The corpse of a young woman, who was the first to die, was transported on the back of the concierge to one of the still-existing chapels on the Pelouse built by Madeleine de Savoie, wife of Anne de Montmorency. Amongst the prisoners was the Duchesse de Duras, daughter of Philippe de Noailles, who had defended to the last the person of Louis XVI, and who, in consequence, ended his life on the scaffold. In some notes descriptive of her misfortunes, her arrival at Chantilly is most dramatically related: “We were first locked up in the chapel, which was still elaborately gilded, and where in the days of the Condés I had often heard Mass. It was now filled with sacks of flour, on one of which I took my seat, whilst the Commissioner mounted upon the altar. He was accompanied by one Marchand, whom I recognised as the son of my aunt’s chambermaid. This vulgar man concentrated all the insolence of the Committee of Public Safety. He derived much pleasure from saying rude and insulting things regarding the nobles and the clergy, and even expressed a wish that I should be lodged as uncomfortably as{108} possible.” Fortunately he departed soon after this speech and the Commissioner, more humane, apportioned to the Duchess one of the better rooms. From her window she could see into the courtyard, and she descried many of her acquaintances amongst the prisoners and their children there assembled. She describes the food as scanty and of very poor quality. They dined in the gallery, where she could remember the brilliant fêtes given by Prince Louis Joseph de Condé not so long before.

The death-rate amongst the prisoners, to whom even the most necessary relief was denied, after a few months became so great that Chantilly had to be entirely evacuated; and it was then proposed that it should be used as a military hospital—a proposal which was, however, not carried out. Subsequently the Château d’Enghien[16] was converted into barracks, whilst Chantilly with its woods and parks found purchasers amongst the Black Band, who were then buying up the castles and palaces of the hated aristocrats with the sole purpose of demolishing them and profiting by just what could be got out of them as building material, etc. Of the so-called Grand Château, erected by Mansart during the time of the Grand Condé, nothing remained but the foundations; for it was razed entirely to the ground. The adjoining Petit Château of the Montmorencys, however, as already stated, miraculously escaped.{109}

Under Napoleon I, Chantilly in 1805 became the property of the State, but the revenue of its woods was assigned to Queen Hortense, who also figures upon the list of the owners of this famous estate. A military school was presently established in the Château d’Enghien, and the magnificent stables were once again devoted to their proper uses.

Meanwhile Prince Louis Joseph de Condé since he left France had sojourned with the Elector at Worms, as Commander of the army of the French emigrés, whilst the Comte d’Artois had formed his camp at Coblenz. The former subsequently found a refuge for his family and his regiment with the Tsar Paul; but eventually, when he saw that he could no longer serve France and his King, he retired with his son to Wanstead House, near Wimbledon. Over the doorway of this most attractive abode the Seigneur of Chantilly inscribed the motto “Parva domus magna quies.”

Here he married as his second wife Marie Catherine de Brignole, the widowed Princess of Monaco, who had long been his constant and faithful friend, especially during his exile. She shared with him his literary and artistic interests, and she put her whole fortune at his disposition when he was in need. His daughter, Louise de Condé, after many vicissitudes, at last found quiet and rest in a Benedictine convent, where she took the veil. In 1807 she received a terrible shock when the news reached her of the tragic death of her beloved{110} nephew, the Duc d’Enghien, and she felt it to be her duty to leave her seclusion and proceed at once to condole with her father and brother in their overwhelming sorrow. She started immediately for England, where she was received on landing with Royal honours: Pitt, Lord Moore, and the two surviving Condé Princes coming to meet her.

The execution of the Duc d’Enghien has left a stain on Napoleon’s character; it was not only a crime, but what was worse, it was a blunder; for d’Enghien at the time of his arrest was living in strictest seclusion at Ettenheim in Baden with the Princesse Charlotte de Rohan, to whom he was deeply attached, and, it was said, had married. He was therefore absolutely innocent of the conspiracy against the Republic, of which he was accused; and it is affirmed that it was only because Bonaparte could not get hold of the legitimate Princes—Artois and Berry—whose claims to the throne of France he grudged and feared, that he took his revenge upon the Duc d’Enghien. He had tried in vain to entrap these Princes, and failing committed this act of personal revenge on the eve of proclaiming himself Emperor, in order to frighten the Royalists, who, as he declared, were continually conspiring against him. When this dastardly murder became known there was a cry of indignation all over Europe. The Russian Court went into mourning, and Napoleon found it necessary to lay the blame upon Talleyrand and Murat. The grief of the unhappy father at the loss of his only son and the{111} last scion of his race was so great that he became a prey to chronic melancholy; but Louis Joseph, the grandfather, strove bravely to live down his anguish.

More than twelve years had still to elapse before their exile was ended, and then, for a brief period, on the collapse of the Napoleonic Empire, the Bourbon Monarchy was restored in France. At last, in 1815, the two Condés returned to Chantilly from England and found the old place, with the exception of the Petit Château, which they henceforth made their chief abode, a pile of ruins, and themselves almost strangers. The Princess of Monaco had died in England; and the Duc d’Enghien, upon whom all hope had centred, had been ruthlessly slain. In spite of all these misfortunes Louis Joseph remained faithful to the old home and began to repurchase his former possessions acre by acre. Some portions of the property had passed into alien hands; as, for instance, the site of the great waterfall, which had been separated from the original grounds by a wall. One of the alterations made at this time was the filling in of the moat, which hitherto had divided the smaller from the larger Château; and later the present Entrance-Hall was built on that site, whilst two new rooms decorated in the style of the period were added where the covered bridges had formerly stood. These new buildings gave access to the rooms formerly occupied by the Grand Condé, which, by a strange piece of luck, the Revolutionists had not demolished. The old Prince held these apartments in high honour; and{112} they were the first to be redecorated and exquisitely panelled. During the four remaining years of his life he was continually occupied in restoring his ancestral palace to that dignity which he remembered so well in the past. He also succeeded in recovering the larger number of the works of art which the Montmorencys and the Condés had accumulated, not only at Chantilly but also at Ecouen and the Palais Bourbon in Paris. Most of these treasures had fortunately fallen into good hands, for during the worst horrors of the Revolution there had been men in France who had succeeded in preserving the art treasures belonging to the old family mansions which their proprietors had been compelled to abandon. Alexander Lenoir was one of these faithful guardians, and it is certainly due to his efforts that so many of these monuments and works of art in France were not destroyed. Conspicuous amongst them were the valuable collections at Chantilly.

But after the long exile of the owners no more entertainments were held at Chantilly such as had been given so lavishly in happier days. After the great reverses which Louis Joseph and his son had undergone they seemed to indulge in one pleasure only, namely, that of the chase—the single luxury which they allowed themselves. They kept a splendid pack of hounds—the descendants of which still survive and are lodged in a corner of the great stables—and in spite of his great age the Prince himself appeared on horseback almost daily;{113} often alone, but sometimes accompanied by his son, and hunted until quite late in the afternoon. Though past his eightieth year, he still had vigour enough, even on his return from a day’s hunting, to shoot the wild duck which abounded in the moats. He died at Chantilly in his eighty-second year during the absence of both his son and his daughter, and was buried at Saint-Denis. As a true Condé he was very imperious and held strong opinions of his own: but he was tenaciously faithful in his friendships; and it was, no doubt, this fidelity to the Royal cause which characterised his conduct during the Revolution, and made him sacrifice everything rather than give up his Royalist principles.

His son, the Duc de Bourbon, had not the iron nature of his father. He refused to take the title of Prince de Condé on his father’s death, since he knew that this title must die with him. He, who had begun life under such happy auspices, long before his death became a broken man. His wife, the Duchesse de Bourbon, Louise Marie Thérèse Bathilde of Orléans to whom he became reconciled after a long separation, died suddenly whilst attending a patronal festival at Saint-Geneviève. She fainted whilst at her devotions, and on being transported to the Sorbonne died before her husband could be summoned. Her favourite nephew, the Duc d’Orléans—afterwards King Louis Philippe—was the only member of her family present when she expired.

It was at about that time that Louis Philippe{114}’s fifth son was born—a child who eventually became the last Seigneur of Chantilly. He was held at the baptismal font by the last Condé, who from this time formed a great affection for his godson. He used to walk with him in the grounds of Chantilly and narrate to him all the memorable events which had taken place in this ancestral abode; and Henri d’Orléans, then but seven years old, would listen with the greatest attention, and long after remembered the colloquies held with his princely sponsor and benefactor—the last of the line of Condé. He thus refers to him: “When recalling my childhood, I picture to myself M. le Duc de Bourbon, dressed in his habitual grey coat, white silk stockings, and light shoes, walking about in the grounds of Chantilly on cold December days. Leaning on his stick he would sometimes stand still and relate to me what had happened in years gone by at the old place; how he had known it in its splendour during his youth; and how all these sad changes had come upon it. He loved to recall also the grand festivities given by his father to King Louis XV, to Marie Antoinette, and to the Emperor and Empress Paul of Russia.”

Plate XVIII.

LOUIS HENRI JOSEPH DE BOURBON, LAST PRINCE DE CONDÉ.
Musée Condé.

Danloux

In 1830 Marie Amélie, Queen of Louis Philippe of France, visited Chantilly with her son, Prince Henri d’Orléans, and was received by the last of the Condés. A fortnight later the news was brought there that this princely line had come to an end. It has been alleged that the unfortunate liaison which the Duke had contracted with a heartless and{115} low-born woman—one Sophie Dawes, the daughter of a fisherman in the Isle of Wight, and known as the Baronne de Feuchères—contributed greatly to embitter the last days of his life. After pocketing all she could, Madame de Feuchères on the death of the Duke left for England rather suddenly, and from that time was heard of no more.

Louise, Princesse de Condé, died several years before her brother at the Temple as Prioress of the Benedictine Nuns. She had borne with much fortitude great trials; for during the Revolution she had to flee from place to place for safety, until she found at last a shelter within the walls of a convent—thus fulfilling the prophetic words of her friend, Gervaisais, “C’est un front à porter une couronne ... ou un voile de religieuse.{116}”

CHAPTER X

THE DUC D’AUMALE LORD OF CHANTILLY

AFTER the death of the last Condé, Chantilly was once more left desolate and abandoned, since Prince Henri d’Orléans, the heir, was still a child.

In 1820 his eldest brother, the Duc d’Orléans, inaugurated at Chantilly the races which now rank as the French Derby, and which have continued every year up to the present day. In connection with these races the Duc d’Orléans, with the help of General Peel—a brother of Sir Robert Peel—successfully undertook to breed English racehorses in France; and Chantilly thus became a racing centre to which the élite of French society thronged every year to attend a “Meeting” which speedily became one of the most famous in the annals of Sport. Residential accommodation was then very restricted, for only the Petit Château and the Château d’Enghien were available, the Grand Château not having yet been rebuilt. The theatre where Molière, Racine, and Corneille produced their plays had also vanished; a substitute was therefore improvised for these occasions by the Comédie Française on the site of the present Library.

But Orléans Princes in those days had not so{117} much leisure for mere recreation as had their predecessors. In that same year the Duc d’Orléans started for Algiers, taking with him the Duc d’Aumale, then only eighteen. In spite of his youth on the premature death of his elder brother he was entrusted with the command at Medea, where he distinguished himself greatly, and became so beloved that the tiny little Arab house which was his temporary residence there is still preserved by a grateful nation. Engaging in a variety of operations in Algeria, he brought this campaign to a brilliant ending in 1844 by a victory over Abdul Kader; by which he succeeded in capturing the concealed camp “La Smalah” where this chieftain and his staff had been residing. This victory was principally due to the young Duke’s great energy and powers of endurance. In the Musée Condé there is a room called “La Smalah,” where we may still see numerous paintings and sketches by Bellange and Horace Vernet illustrating this victorious African campaign.

On the Duke’s return from Algiers a marriage was arranged between him and Caroline Auguste de Bourbon, daughter of the Prince of Salerno and the Archduchess Marie Clementine, sister to Napoleon I’s second wife, Marie Louise of Austria. The nuptials were celebrated at Naples, and a few days later the young pair left for France, where they were impatiently expected by Queen Amélie, who was overjoyed to welcome one of her own relatives as her son’s bride.{118}

It had been agreed that Chantilly should be the home of the newly married pair; and in 1843 the architect Duban received instructions to execute the necessary alterations; whilst to Eugène Lami—the same artist who painted the portrait of the young Duchess which now hangs over one of the doors of the Salle Caroline—was entrusted the decoration of the various apartments. The ground-floor apartments of the Petit Château—the same suite which the Grand Condé had selected for his son Henri Jules and his children—were the rooms chosen for the personal occupation of the Duke and Duchess.

In 1845 Louis Philippe paid a visit to his son at Chantilly, and made himself very popular on that occasion by telling his coachman to drive slowly across the Pelouse, because he had heard some ladies complain that if he drove so fast no one could see him.

The title of Condé was conferred upon the Duc d’Aumale’s eldest son, born at Saint-Cloud, in the hope that he would revive so illustrious a name. He was brought to Chantilly at the age of six months and remained there until the Duchess joined her husband at Algiers, where he had been nominated Governor. It was then proposed that extensive alterations at Chantilly should be carried out during the absence of the Duke and Duchess, and it was their intention to return thither in the following summer. Fate, however, decreed otherwise. In February 1848 Louis Philippe was{119} compelled to abdicate in favour of his grandson, the Comte de Paris, then a mere child; and to avoid further difficulties the ex-King left immediately for England, and took up his residence at Claremont under the style of Comte de Neuilly. This unfortunate event obliged the Duc d’Aumale to resign his commission in the French army, to which he had rendered such signal service. He thenceforward resided with his family in England, chiefly at Twickenham, whither the larger part of the artistic furniture and works of art from Chantilly were transported. This was done at the special request of the Duchess, whose desire it was to reconstitute as far as possible her lost home in the land of their adoption. An Imperial Decree next commanded that all the properties of the Royal Family of France should be sold within a year. The sale of Chantilly—of course a fictitious one—was thereupon carried out by the English bankers Coutts & Co., who sent Colonel McCall, a representative of their own, to reside upon the estate. He dwelt in the Château d’Enghien, and administered the whole of the property on behalf of the Duke; whilst the Petit Château was let to Lord Cowley, who made it his summer residence. Later it was successively occupied by the Comte Dûchatel and the Duc de la Trémoille.

Twenty-three years later, after the disaster at Sedan and the fall of the second Empire, the Duc d’Aumale was once more permitted to return to Chantilly. Many changes had occurred during{120} this long interval. The Duchess, overcome with grief at the death of her eldest son, the Prince de Condé, had died in exile. That young Prince was the last to bear this illustrious name. He is said to have been highly gifted, and to have possessed great qualities. He had been educated chiefly in England, and had distinguished himself in his studies at Oxford, where he showed a remarkable talent for languages. It was, however, his noble and affectionate character that specially endeared him to his parents.

Like his father he was filled with a passionate devotion for his native country. When the Crown of Greece was offered to the Duke, subject to a condition that the Heir-Apparent must change his religion and his nationality, although he had decided not to accept the honour, he thought it his duty to communicate the proposal to his son. Whereupon the lad wrote from Switzerland, where he was undergoing his military training, the following reply: “Having had the high fortune to be born a Frenchman and a Roman Catholic, I will ever remain French and Roman Catholic.”

Not long after this incident the young Prince started for a voyage round the world, but before its completion died of typhoid fever at Sydney in Australia.

The Duc d’Aumale on his return to Chantilly was accompanied only by his younger son, the Duc de Guise, and it was not possible even then for him to obtain possession of it. The Château{121} and the Pavillon d’Enghien were still occupied by Prussian officers, whilst in the town of Chantilly there was a garrison of German soldiers who were holding the Mayor and the Vicar as hostages.

It was under such sad circumstances that the heir of the Condés saw once more the heritage from which he had parted so many years before. On attempting to enter the Park unobserved by a side gate his distinguished appearance awoke recognition in one of his old keepers who, bowing low and with tears in his eyes addressed him by name. Whereupon the Duke found it impossible to control his emotion.

As soon, however, as the German troops had departed, His Royal Highness entered upon his property and, in spite of all the sorrows which had fallen upon him since he had left his beloved home, he yet felt happy at being once more on French soil, and able to educate his only surviving son in his native land. The young Duc de Guise was sent to a college in Paris, but spent his holidays at Chantilly; and father and son, as in the time of the last two Condés, were often seen riding and hunting together in the park and woods. From time to time also the Archduchess Marie Clementine, mother of the late Duchess, visited at the Château.

In 1872 all the surviving members of the French Royal Family assembled at Chantilly to celebrate the wedding of Princesse Marguerite, daughter of the Duc de Nemours with Prince Ladislas Czartoysky;{122} and on this occasion the great battle-pieces representing the military glories of the great Condé were replaced in the Gallery.

In the early spring of that year, King Edward and Queen Alexandra—then Prince and Princess of Wales—paid a visit to the Duc d’Aumale; with whom they had contracted a warm friendship during his residence in England.

But just when calm and happiness seemed to have at last returned to Chantilly, another heavy blow fell upon it. The young Duc de Guise was struck down by typhoid fever and died after a few days’ illness. With his sudden death all plans for the improvement of the Château and estate came to an abrupt standstill, for the heart-broken father had now to realise that, as he himself mournfully put it, “la dernière flamme de son foyer était éteinte.”

A new scheme now took shape in the heart of the Lord of Chantilly: a scheme at first kept to himself, and which had revolved in his mind long before he made it public. He intended to take France by surprise. This scheme was a no less magnificent one than to bestow Chantilly with all its appurtenances and contents upon the French nation. Once more the long interrupted design of the architect Duban, made before the exile of the Duke and Duchess, was recommenced: this time by M. Daumet, who undertook also the difficult task of rebuilding the Grand Château. After years of labour there arose once more upon the vaults of{123} this famous fortress the present building, destined to become the Musée Condé, a veritable palace of Literature and Art. Its architecture, in order to harmonise with that of Montmorency’s Petit Château, is directly copied from sixteenth-century designs. But to erect the stately marble staircase with its splendid gilt iron railings, an undertaking which offered the greatest difficulties, it was necessary to pierce the solid rock. The Chapel, adorned by an elegant spire and full of valuable relics of the Montmorency and the Condé families, was also restored at this time. It contains an altar of Senlis marble, the joint work of Jean Bullant and Jean Goujon; and exquisite wood carvings, dated 1548, were brought from Écouen, an old seat of the Montmorency family. In the stained-glass windows (dated 1544) are represented the sons and daughters of Anne de Montmorency, whose effigy and that of his wife, Madeleine of Savoy, are painted on the wall by a modern painter from a cartoon by Lechevallier Chevignard.[17] The fine bronze monument to Henri II de Bourbon by Jacques Sarrazin has also found a permanent abode in this chapel. It was saved by Alexander Lenoir and presented to the Prince de Condé in 1815.

During the execution of these works Chantilly was frequently the scene of very interesting family gatherings. Queen Christina of Denmark, on the occasion of the marriage of her youngest son Waldemar to Princesse Marie, eldest daughter of the{124} Duc de Chartres, made a lengthy stay at Chantilly; and not long afterwards Princess Marie Amélie, daughter of the Comte de Paris, was betrothed here to the Duke of Braganza, afterwards King of Portugal. But in that same year Republican France suddenly pronounced a further sentence of banishment upon all claimants to the French Throne—Royalist and Imperialist; in which order the Duc d’Aumale was included. In his quality of a General in the French Army, he protested against this, but without avail; and once more Chantilly was deserted. But this time it was not for long; for on returning with a heavy heart to his English home at Woodnorton and feeling his end drawing near the Duke resolved to make known immediately the act of munificence upon which he had so long decided. He therefore made public his intention of leaving Chantilly with all its forests, parks and lakes, and all its art-treasures to the care of the Members of the Institut de France, in trust for the French Nation. This was his dignified answer to the French Republic; and it made a deep and lasting impression in France. Nor was this act of generosity without immediate consequences, for shortly after a Decree signed by President Carnot was sent to the Duke with the assurance that France would welcome him back.

Plate XIX.

HENRI D’ORLÉANS, DUC D’AUMALE.
Musée Condé.

Léon Bonnat.

facing page 124

On March 9, 1889 he returned to Paris, and his first act was to present his thanks to the President, who seemed much touched by the words{125} which he uttered upon this occasion. A hearty welcome greeted him from the people of Chantilly; and on his arrival at the station he was accompanied by a vast crowd to the door of the Château. A medal was cast in commemoration of this return, upon the obverse of which was a figure contemplating France from afar and the word “Spes”; upon the reverse a figure at the gates of the Château holding an olive-branch and the inscription “À S.A.R. Monseigneur le Duc d’Aumale; en souvenir du 11 mars 1889, les habitants de Chantilly reconnaissants.”

Subsequently an equestrian statue of the Duke was cast and placed near the entrance of the Château by the people of Chantilly, who regarded him and his ancestors as their benefactors. And it was here amongst his art treasures that he spent the last years of his eventful life.{126} {127}

SECOND PART

THE MUSEE CONDE

{128}

{129}

CHAPTER XI

THE ART TREASURES OF THE MUSÉE CONDÉ AND HOW THEY WERE BROUGHT TOGETHER

NO sooner had the Duc d’Aumale resolved to bestow Chantilly with all its treasures as a gift to the French nation than he joined, with even more enthusiasm than he had previously done, the ranks of the great European collectors, and he frequently attended in person important sales in London, Paris, and elsewhere.

During the long years of exile, passed chiefly in England, he usually resided either at Orleans House near Twickenham or at Woodnorton in Worcestershire (till recently the residence of his nephew, the present Duke of Orleans). It was, however, at the former place that all the valuable manuscripts, paintings, books, and objects of art brought from Chantilly were then housed.

The first exhibition of his taste as a pronounced bibliophile was given by his acquiring the celebrated Standish Library, a collection originally bequeathed to Louis Philippe by the English collector Standish but sold by auction in 1851 on the death of that King. This remarkable collection contained numerous Aldine editions and{130} hundreds of Italian and German incunabula. To this famous library the Duke next added that of M. Armand Cigongne, a collection composed almost exclusively of works in French—volumes of prose and poetry, exquisitely bound, and many of them still bearing the coats-of-arms and book-plates of former proprietors.

The most important acquisition, however, (added in 1855), was the famous illuminated MS. known as Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, an unique example of primitive French Art, to a description of which we shall return later on.

In course of time other additions were made of great value and interest: such as, for instance, Les Fables de Marie de France, Le Roman d’Aspremont (thirteenth century), a copious selection of ballads and songs of the fourteenth century, and many other works of note, amongst them being a copy in four volumes of the Songs of Laborde, illustrated with original designs by Moreau.

In the year 1861 the Duc d’Aumale, for the moderate sum of 14,000 francs, purchased from the well-known connoisseur M. Reiset a collection of no less than 380 drawings by Italian, Flemish, Dutch, and German masters. Amongst these may be specially noted: A Reading Monk, by Raphael (hung in the Galerie du Logis), and a design, dated approximately 1505, which approaches in execution the St. Catherine in the Gallery of the Louvre.[18]{131} Here are also drawings attributed to Verrocchio: a Warrior on Horseback, five studies of horses, and an interesting drawing of A Man and Woman, all in the style of Pisanello.

La Joconde (also in the Galerie du Logis), a cartoon for the picture attributed to Leonardo da Vinci at St. Petersburg, came from the Reiset Collection, as also did studies for Signorelli’s Last Judgment at Orvieto; studies for Michael Angelo’s Prophets in the Sixtine Chapel; and drawings by Fra Bartolomeo for his great composition in the Pitti. A fine group of eleven figures by Lucas van Leyden, illustrating The Return of the Prodigal Son, is one of the most important items in this series; and a study of a Virgin by Dürer, an interesting Portrait by Holbein the elder, a Mountainous Landscape by Rembrandt, and certain studies of costume attributed to Pisanello, etc., are all worthy of more than a passing notice.

Orléans House was soon found to be far too small to contain all these treasures, and an annexe was built to it. The Duc d’Aumale presently organised an exhibition, to which he invited the members of the Burlington Fine Arts Club. Disraeli, who was present, and was much struck by what he saw on that occasion, referred to him in his speech at the anniversary of the Foundation of the Royal Literary Fund in the following appropriate words: “Happy the prince who, though exiled from his palaces and military pursuits through no fault of his own,{132} finds a consolation in books and an occupation in the rich domain of Art. Happy the prince who, whilst living on terms of equality with the people of a strange country, still distinguishes himself by the superiority of his noble mind and character. Happy the prince who in adverse circumstances can defy fate and make conquests in the kingdom of letters, which cannot, like dynastic authority, be taken away from him.” The great statesman here alluded to the stupendous historical work in seven volumes on the History of the Princes de Condé upon which the Duke was at that time occupied.

It must be remembered that these more recent acquisitions were supplementary to the already existing collection which His Royal Highness had inherited as heir to the last Prince de Condé—a collection which comprised, amongst other things, two fine Van Dycks (the Princesse de Barbançon and the Comte de Berghe), paintings by Christophe Huet, by Desportes and by Oudry, and precious Gobelins and Beauvais tapestries.

Furthermore yet another collection came into the Duke’s possession on the death of his father-in-law, the Prince of Salerno, and with it no less than seventy-two paintings, including works by Andrea del Sarto, Luca Longhi, Giulio Romano, Luca Penni, Perin del Vaga, Daniele di Volterra, Baroccio, Bronzino, Mazzola, Carracci, a Portrait by Moroni, a Guido Reni, a Spada, an Albano, a Portrait of Himself by Guercino, a fine{133} Madonna by Sassoferrato, two landscapes by Gaspar Dughet, and several paintings by Salvator Rosa.

Examples of the Northern Schools in this same collection include portraits of Elisabeth Stuart, Queen of Bohemia, daughter of James I of England, by Mierevelt and of the Duke of Neubourg by Van Dyck.

In the Salerno Collection is an interesting little work by Ingres representing Paolo Malatesta and Francesca da Rimini in the ecstasy of their first kiss, and also a portrait of a Young Woman by Van Loo and some fine mosaics from Herculaneum and Pompeii.

Although this Salerno Collection is full of interest in itself, compared with later acquisitions it is but of secondary importance. It was French Art that chiefly attracted the Duke, and he consequently missed no opportunity of extending his purchases in that direction. From the well-known firm of Colnaghi in Pall Mall he bought portraits of members of the Valois family, such as, for instance, Henri II as a child (attributed to Clouet), and as King by Primaticcio; the Comte de Cossé Brissac; Madame and Mademoiselle de Longueville, by Beauburn; and other portraits by Mignard, Largillière, etc.

At the Bernal Sale in 1855 he acquired for 6,000 francs the much-discussed portrait of Odet de Coligny; portraits of Queen Eleonore, of Henri II, of Henri III, of Elisabeth of Austria, and of{134} Louis XIV, the last named of these being by Hyacinthe Rigaud.

At the famous Utterson Sale the Prince acquired some of those wonderful sixteenth-century French drawings which formed the nucleus of his unique collection of this branch of art; and at about the same period he also bought a number of engravings, amongst which were fine examples by Marc Antonio Raimondi and Rembrandt.

From the collection of his brother the Duke of Orleans he bought The Assassination of the Duc de Guise by Delaroche, and a painting by Descamps; and at the Lawrence Sale in 1856 secured a portrait of his ancestor Philippe Egalité by Sir Joshua Reynolds. This was apparently a sketch for the life-size portrait commissioned by the Prince of Wales (afterwards George IV) during the French Prince’s exile in England. The larger picture, formerly at Carlton House, was destroyed by fire in 1820, which greatly enhances the value of the sketch at Chantilly.

The portraits of Mazarin and Richelieu by Philippe de Champaigne, now at Chantilly, were formerly at Château d’Eu, and formed part of Louis Philippe’s collection, as also did de Troy’s Déjeuner d’Huîtres and Lancret’s Déjeuner de Jambon. From the same source came two splendid cabinets by Riesener and the Beauvais furniture now in one of the salons of the Petit Château.{135}

The Prince was evidently a great admirer of Poussin, for in 1854 he acquired for 9,175 francs the celebrated Massacre of the Innocents, and in 1860 another work by the same master, Thésée découvrant l’épée de son père, which is typical of that artist’s particular style.

At the Northwick Sale in 1859 yet another Poussin, The Infancy of Bacchus, was added; besides a large panel by Perugino, an early work, once in the Church of San Girolamo at Lucca. An interesting painting representing a Dance of Angels, probably by a Sienese master of the fifteenth century, came also from this same sale. Titian’s Ecce Homo was bought for 15,000 francs from the Averoldi family of Brescia, for whom it is said to have been painted.[19]

The Woman taken in Adultery (attributed to Giorgione), The Martyrdom of St. Stephen by Annibale Carracci, and Mars and Venus by Paolo Veronese were bought in London in 1860 from M. Nieuwenhuys; and in 1864 at a public sale in Paris the celebrated painting by Ingres representing The Story of Antiochus and Stratonice fell, amid general applause, to the lot of the Duc d’Aumale for 92,100 francs.

Rosa Bonheur’s A Shepherd in the Pyrenees, presented by the Duke to his wife, was acquired next, together with Gérome’s Le Duel après le Bal and Protais’ Avant et après le Combat.{136}

From the Soltykoff Sale in Paris, for the sum of 54,000 francs, came the four large portraits in Limoges enamel representing Henri d’Albret, King of Navarre, Antoine de Bourbon, Louis de Bourbon, and Catherine de Lorraine.

Plate XX.

The Minerva of Chantilly.
Greek Bronze.

In 1865 Baron Triqueti, who often represented the Prince at these sales, was sent to Paris to acquire the famous Pourtales vase, a Greek amphora with red figures of the time of Phidias. For this interesting work of art he paid 10,000 francs; whilst two small Greek bronzes—one representing Jupiter and the other a statuette of Minerva—were knocked down to him for 8,000 and 19,300 francs respectively. Upon this occasion the Duke was bidding against the Louvre, the British Museum, and Monsieur Thiers. These two bronzes, which were found near Besançon, are of unequal merit; the Jupiter is of only average workmanship; but the Minerva statuette is considered one of the greatest treasures at Chantilly. Léon Heuzey places it in the late archaic period at a time when the Greeks were still endeavouring to ennoble and beautify their goddess before they finally arrived at the height of their ideal in the famous Athena of Lemnos. The fact that this statuette was found at Besançon indicates how highly Greek Art was valued, not only in Rome, but also in Cisalpine Gaul; for such small portable figures often accompanied their owners on their journeys, and who knows what great personage it may have been who brought this exquisite little Minerva with him to Gaul?{137} We know that Tiberius never travelled without his much-cherished Amazon of the Vatican.

A fragment of an antique sarcophagus representing Bacchus and Ariadne was acquired for 7,200 francs at the Nolivos Sale and is exhibited now in the Salle Minerve along with the above-mentioned statuettes and some charming Tanagra figures.

On the death of his mother, Queen Marie Amélie, the Duc d’Aumale inherited a great many family portraits and miniatures, the most noteworthy among these being a life-size portrait of Gaston d’Orléans by Van Dyck, of which there is a replica in the Radnor Collection. This painting was given to Louis Philippe by George IV and was probably painted at the request of Queen Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I, who was a sister of the Royal sitter. There is not the slightest resemblance in his features to the good King Henri IV, his father. Treachery lurks in his mouth and eyes, and we cannot help being reminded that he was the direct cause of the execution of the last Montmorency.

From the same source came a portrait of Queen Marie Amélie herself, painted by Gérard in 1817, and likenesses of the same Queen and two of her daughters by Vigée Le Brun; a portrait of Louis Philippe as Duc d’Orléans, when professor at Reichenau, by Winterhalter; and others of Philippe Egalité and his charming wife, a daughter of the Duc de Penthièvre, and of the Duc d’Aumale as a{138} child by Robert Fleury. Most of the gems and miniatures are likewise from the collection of Queen Marie Amélie; and to the miniatures, in course of time, were added others of members of the Royal Family of France bought by the Duke himself, such as of Anne de Bretagne, François I, Gabrielle d’Estrées and her two sons, Henri II, Henri IV, and Sully, the famous Minister of Finance; of the Duc de Guise (le Balafré), Marie de Medicis, Marie Thérèse, Queen of Louis XIV, the Grand Dauphin and his wife Marie Anne of Bavaria, and many more.

In 1865 Mr. Colnaghi sold to the Duke Meissonier’s Les Dragons sous Louis XV and a landscape by S. W. Reynolds, who is best known as an engraver. The charming portrait of Maria, Lady Waldegrave with her Daughter by Sir Joshua, was bequeathed to the Duke by Frances, Countess of Waldegrave; and Lord Holland in 1860 presented him with Talleyrand’s portrait by Ary Scheffer. From Sir Charles Robinson the Duc d’Aumale acquired some fine Italian manuscripts, and an interesting Rheno-Byzantine painting representing the Emperor Otto I seated between two allegorical female figures, each holding a small globe signifying the vassal states of the Empire. This painting, which is of considerable historical value, is apparently a detached portion of a MS. illuminated for the Emperor about the year 1000. From the same source came another fragment, a Resurrection, dating from the fourteenth century and{139} belonging to the Sienese School. This hangs in the Rotonde near a miniature of a Christ on the Cross attributed to Giulio Clovio.

In 1868, two years before his exile was suddenly terminated by the downfall of the second Empire, the Duc d’Aumale bought for the sum of 600,000 francs the collection of the Marquis Maison; and amongst the pictures which formed it were eight Descamps, three Marilhats, one Gros, four Watteaus, four Greuzes and two paintings by Prud’hon. After that followed the acquisition of one of Fromentin’s finest works, La Chasse au Faucon en Algérie; whilst a sea-piece by Vandervelde together with the Dunes at Scheveningen by Ruysdael were bought at the San Donato Sale.

Presently there came the celebrated Vierge de la Maison d’Orléans by Raphael, which the Duke acquired at the Delessert Sale for the sum of 160,000 francs—a fascinating picture supposed to be one of the two panels described by Vasari as having been painted for Guidobaldo di Montefeltro, and of which he says “that they were small but exceedingly beautiful examples of the master’s second manner.”[20] At one time in the possession of Gaston d’Orléans, this charming work passed from France into Flanders at the end of the sixteenth century, where it is supposed to have belonged to David Teniers the Younger. Passavant thought that it was then that the background was repainted and the shelf with the various pots and vases{140} added—a supposition which has, however, since been refuted. The youthful Madonna is seated on a cushioned bench in a small homely room; and behind her hangs a light curtain of reddish grey. She bends tenderly over the Infant Christ, who gazes intently at the spectator with an expression full of feeling and inspiration. This is perhaps the most divine-looking of all Raphael’s Infants. The Bridgewater Madonna, seated on a similar seat in a homely habitation, is closely analogous to the Virgin in this work, but instead of the shelf there is an arched window to the right. The lights in both pictures are subtle and extremely delicate, whilst the shadows are in strongly marked contrast.

In the eighteenth century the Orléans Madonna subsequently returned to France to the house of the well-known collector Crozat, from whence it passed into the Orléans Gallery and obtained thus its distinctive appellation. During the Revolution this entire collection was transported to Brussels, and the Madonna changed hands several times before it finally entered the haven of the Musée Condé.

Plate XXI.

Photo Giraudon.

The Virgin of the Maison d’Orléans.
By Raphael.
Musée Condé.

When the Duc d’Aumale returned to Chantilly after an absence of twenty years, he at once formed as we have seen a plan for erecting a museum upon the ruins of the old Château, with the further intention of presenting the mansion with all its contents to the French nation. Many years, however, elapsed before the building was complete and ready to{141} receive all the treasures which it was destined to hold; but meanwhile the Duke continued to increase the collection by munificent and judicious purchases.

At the Faure Sale in 1873, Delacroix’s dramatic composition of The Two Foscari was acquired; in 1877 there were added the four Tanagra figures which now adorn the case wherein the Minerva is enshrined; and an exquisite example of Italian enamel, representing Apollo guiding the Chariot of the Sun (attributed to Benvenuto Cellini), was bought from M. Cadard for 6,000 francs.

In 1876 a very important acquisition was made in the shape of a collection of French portraits, once in the possession of Gaignières but subsequently belonging to Alexandre Lenoir, from whom it had passed into England and become the property of the then Duke of Sutherland. This collection, which was at Stafford House until the Duc d’Aumale acquired it, consists of no less than 69 painted portraits, 148 drawings in coloured chalk and several pastels. Amongst the most interesting of these portraits are: Francis I (painted about 1515), his sister, Marguerite d’Angoulême, and her husband, Henri d’Albret, King of Navarre; Jeanne d’Albret; Admiral de Coligny, and his brother the Cardinal; Catherine de Medicis, Diane de Poitiers, Charles IX, Henri III, the Duc d’Alençon, and the Duc de Nemours (all attributed to François Clouet); Marguerite de France, and Madame de Lansac (attributed to Corneille de Lyon);{142} Philippe de Clève, Sieur de Ravenstein; Jean de Bugenhagen (attributed to Holbein); Catherine de Bora, the wife of Luther; Charles V; the Count and Countess Hornes; Henri IV (by Pourbus), and an attractive likeness of his daughter Elizabeth, Queen of Spain; Gabrielle d’Estrées au bain; the Duc de Retz; the Duc d’Aumont on horseback; Sully and Charost (by Quesnel); George I; several portraits by Mignard, among them a magnificent likeness of Molière, another of Mazarin, and two pastels representing Colbert and Quinault. From the same collection are the portraits of Pope Benedict XIV by Subleyras and of Marie Antoinette as Hebe by Drouais.

Another portrait which attracts much notice is that of Antoine de Bourgogne, the Grand Bâtard, the second of the nineteen illegitimate sons of Philippe le Bon. This painting was presented to the Duc d’Aumale by the Duke of Sutherland. It is an exquisite work of art which has been variously attributed to Memling, to Roger van der Weyden, and to Ugo van der Goes, but it is to the last-named artist that it can be assigned with greater probability. The Grand Bâtard[21] wears the Order of the Golden Fleece instituted by his father at Bruges in 1430, and appears to be about forty years of age, the period of life when he gained his great victory over the Moors at Ceuta. He was not only a valiant warrior, but also an arduous bibliophile and collector. His Château of La Roche{143} contained many interesting illuminated manuscripts now dispersed, and of these the Froissart at Breslau is amongst the most celebrated. Like all those that belonged to him, it bears his autograph “ob de Bourgogne” “ob” being an abbreviation of the Greek word ὁβαλὁς, which means bâtard.[22]

The drawings of this Sutherland Collection, especially those belonging to the sixteenth century, are less important, many of them appearing to be copies by inferior hands; those, however, of the seventeenth century by Quesnel and Dumoustier are first-rate. Among the portraits in pastel may be noted likenesses of Madame de Montespan, Louis XIII, Gaston d’Orléans, Louis de Haros, and an interesting portrait of Watteau designed by Boucher after an original by Watteau himself.

In 1877 the Duc d’Aumale availed himself of another opportunity of restoring to France a French collection which had been brought to England, namely, that of M. Carmontelle, which comprised no less than 450 coloured sketches for portraits which date from the year 1757 to the year 1775. Carmontelle, as tutor to the Duc de Chartres, had plenty of opportunity during his leisure hours to sketch all the men and women with whom he came in contact, which he did merely for his own amusement, without any expectation of payment. The facility with which he executed these sketches astonished even Grimm, who remarked upon his{144} skill. In about two hours each, with the greatest ease, he reproduced all the most noticeable figures in the life of the period, from the Dauphin and his courtiers, the Princes and Princesses of the House of Bourbon and Orléans, the officers, ladies and gentlemen, ecclesiastics, musicians and actors, down to the domestics, and even the floor-scrubber at Saint-Cloud. These sketches amounted at the time of his death to the number of 700, and in 1807 were bought en bloc by his friend Richard de Ledans, who disposed of a good many of them. When he died in 1816 450 drawings only were left. These were at once bought by Pierre de la Mesangère, editor of Le Journal des Dames et des Modes, and they form an exceedingly valuable record of the fashions at the time of Louis XV.

In 1831 the Carmontelle drawings reappeared in Scotland in the Duff-Gordon-Duff Collection, whence they were acquired by the Duc d’Aumale for the sum of 112,500 francs, to add to other examples of this artist’s work, particularly a portrait of Carmontelle himself, which he already possessed. They are now stored in large portfolios in the Salle Caroline at Chantilly, and, catalogued with comments and notes by the late Anatole Gruyer, afford great pleasure and amusement to those who have leisure to examine them.

Plate XXII.

Photo. Giraudon.

A GAME OF CHESS.
Carmontelle.
Musée Condé.

The next acquisitions were a number of paintings collected by M. Reiset, who had already, as we have seen above, passed on his drawings to the indefatigable Duke. The price paid for these was 600,000{145} francs, and they include no less than twenty-five pictures of the Italian School, amongst which we may mention the following: a small panel representing the Death of the Virgin, attributed to Giotto (unfortunately much repainted); The Coronation of the Virgin, by Giovanni del Ponte di San Stefano; an allegorical figure representing Autumn, attributed to Botticelli[23]; an Annunciation by Francia and a Holy Family by Jacopo Palma; several Luinis and two small Filippo Lippis; and an exquisite little Madonna holding the Infant Christ by Bissolo. The Marriage of St. Francis of Assisi to Poverty, by Sassetta (formerly assigned to his pupil Sano di Pietro) is one of the most attractive works by this master. It once formed part of an altarpiece at S. Severino, long since broken up and dispersed. Several smaller panels from the same altarpiece are to be found in the Chalendon Collection in Paris, and one belongs to M. le Comte Martel; whilst the central portion is in the possession of Mr. B. Berenson.[24]

In the painting at Chantilly Sassetta may be seen at the height of his imaginative power.[25] An atmosphere of religious calm breathes over the landscape from which the three figures of Chastity, Humility and Poverty are floating upwards; the latter turning to wave a last friendly greeting to{146} the Saint whom they are leaving on earth. It is full of the naïve sentiment for which this artist is so conspicuous.

Another interesting painting which belonged to the Reiset Collection is the portrait of Simonetta Vespucci, formerly assigned to Pollaiuolo, but attributed by Dr. G. Frizzoni to Piero di Cosimo. Simonetta was a young Genoese lady renowned for her beauty, who came to Florence as the wife of a Cattini. Poliziano wrote sonnets upon her charms, and Giuliano dei Medici fell madly in love with her. Among the numerous likenesses of her by Botticelli and others, in the National Gallery, at Berlin, and elsewhere, this one in the Musée Condé seems to be the most lifelike. Reiset bought this portrait in 1841 from the last member of the Vespucci family.

Attention may here be drawn to a fine sea-piece by Everdingen, the master of Ruysdael; to two small portraits of a Husband and Wife of the Van Eyck School; and to a Procession attributed to Dierick Bouts—all excellent examples of the Dutch School.

An extremely interesting picture, now known to be of French origin, came also from the Reiset Gallery, namely, The Virgin as Protector of the Human Race[26]—a work executed in 1452 by Charonton and Vilatte for Jean Cadard and his wife, and of special importance in the history of French painting.

Plate XXIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE MYSTIC MARRIAGE OF S. FRANCIS, BY SASSETTA. SIMONETTA VESPUCCIA, BY PIERRE DI COSIMO.

Musée Condé.

To face page 146

Five large Poussins, two Gaspar Dughets, a portrait of Napoleon by Gerard; and no less than{147} three works by Ingres came also from this same source: namely, the Artist’s own portrait as a youth, a portrait of a Madame Devançay, and the painting of Venus Anadyomene, upon which he is known to have spent much time and thought throughout the last forty years of his life.

Finally, to all these other treasures were added some drawings by Prud’hon. Then in 1882, from the Hamilton Palace Sale interesting portraits by Corneille de Lyon, and a small likeness of Montaigne probably by a late pupil of that master; and at various subsequent London sales drawings were purchased by Botticelli, Canaletto, Tiepolo, Salomon Ruysdael, Dumoustier, Ingres, Van Loo, and Gericault, besides a great number of engravings.

Whilst the Duke was making these important acquisitions he was at the same time gradually rebuilding the old Château of the Condés in order to house them adequately, and it is not to be wondered at that intellectual France took a great interest in this vast artistic enterprise. His Royal Highness was elected a Member of the Institut de France and invited to occupy the chair of M. de Cardaillac at the Académie des Beaux Arts. It was on this occasion that Victor Hugo, whom the Prince had referred to in his address of eulogy upon his predecessor, wrote him the following memorable letter:

It was, however, during the last years of his life that the Duke really made his most important acquisitions. In 1885, for the sum of £3,800, he bought from Mr. Fuller Russell the charming diptych painted in 1466 for Jeanne de France, daughter of Charles VII. This painting was formerly attributed to Memling, but Count Paul Durrieu now assigns it to Zanetto Bugatto of Milan, one of that master’s greatest pupils in Italy.

Plate XXIV.

Photo. Giraudon.

The Three Graces.
By Raphael.
Musée Condé.

In the same year Raphael’s picture of the Three Graces was purchased for the sum of £30,000 from the executors of the Earl of Dudley—a panel so small as not to exceed the dimensions of a man’s hand. The youthful Raphael in this composition was clearly inspired by the beautiful antique marble group at Siena; and we may observe how the genius of two great artists in two such diverse epochs can be happily blended together. The Three Graces at Chantilly and The Dream of a Knight at the National Gallery are not far apart and may probably both{149} be dated at about 1500-1503; but around the former picture there seems to hang some unsolved problem. The Duc d’Aumale expresses himself about it in the following terms: “Are these really the Three Graces whom we have here before us? Or was it not rather the intention of Raphael to represent the Three Ages of Womanly Beauty? To the left the virgin with a veil around her slender hips; to the right the woman in her prime wearing a necklace of coral; and in the centre, with her back turned to the spectator, the woman in her full maturity, merely exhibiting her fine profile. Does not this picture imply that Woman at all ages holds in her hand the Empire of the World?”

This little panel, originally in the Borghese Gallery, passed successively into the collections of Reboul, Fabre, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Woodburn, and Lord Dudley whence it finally entered the sanctuary of the Musée Condé.

Another important picture of the Italian School is the cassone panel representing King Ahasuerus and Esther.[28] This was originally painted for the Torrigiani family of Florence and was formerly ascribed to Filippino Lippi; but modern art-criticism assigns it to the suppositious “Amico di Sandro,” who, if he really did paint it, has almost surpassed Filippino in both beauty and grace.

Another panel from the same cassone, representing the Second Appearance of Esther before Ahasuerus, is in the possession of Leopold{150} Goldschmidt at Paris; whilst the two side panels of Mordecai on Horseback and Esther as Queen walking in her Garden are in the Lichtenstein Gallery at Vienna.

One more Italian picture deserves notice. It is a replica of the famous composition which passed some years ago from the collection of Prince Chigi in Rome into that of Mrs. John Gardiner at Boston, U.S.A. It represents the Virgin and the Holy Child attended by an angel who offers the latter roses. This picture has much of the charm of both Botticelli and Filippino but is by neither of them. It is the work of some unknown but unquestionably highly gifted artist.

Plate XXV.

Photo. Giraudon.

The Story of Esther.
School of Sandro Botticelli.
Musée Condé.

In spite of these important purchases of Italian pictures the Duc d’Aumale never neglected an opportunity of acquiring French works of art, and he extended his collection as far as possible in that particular direction. So that from M. Destailleur, from the Comte de Fresnes, and from the Baron Seillier he acquired books that had been bound expressly for François I, for Henri II and for Marguerite de Valois. At the Hamilton Palace Sale he purchased for 12,375 francs a Book of Hours of the fourteenth century which had been specially bound for its then owner, François de Guise. In 1892 the sumptuous Psalter of Ingeburge of Denmark, wife of Philippe Auguste, found its way into this ever-increasing collection; and this was quickly followed by the interesting Breviary{151} executed in the fourteenth century for Queen Jeanne d’Evreux.

In 1889 more than 310 French drawings were acquired from Lord Carlisle, including original work by Jean Perréal, by Jean and François Clouet, by Corneille de Lyon and by the Dumoustiers. The artistic, iconographic and historical value of these drawings has been pronounced on all hands to be almost unique; more especially with regard to the portraits of celebrated personages living between the years 1514 and 1560. Francis I with his Queens, his mistresses, his courtiers, and the ladies of his petites bandes; the famous Preux de Marignan, the great Montmorency and the Colignys, Henri II and his numerous sons and daughters; Catherine de Medicis and la belle Diane—all these famous heroes and heroines of history are met together in effigy at Chantilly: a place they all knew so well and enjoyed so much during their lifetime. The question of how these drawings, so highly valued under the Valois régime, were ever allowed to leave France has never been satisfactorily solved. Horace Walpole possessed a similar collection, but it was of much less artistic importance. It was the collection once owned by Mariette and is now apparently in the possession of an English peer.[29] Gaignières also collected French drawings of the same type, but after his death they greatly depreciated in value and passed from the Bibliothèque Royale into the Bodleian Library at Oxford. But the Howard{152} portfolio, the most important of all, and also the Salting Collection were discovered in Florence. It is certain that there is a common link between all of the sets, and similar handwritings are to be found upon the margins of most of them. We must, however, postpone further discussion on this interesting question until a later chapter.

In 1889 the great painting by Meissonier, Les Cuirassiers de 1805, was bought at the Secrétan Sale for the sum of 190,000 francs; and soon after came Détaille’s finest work, Le Colonel Lepic à Eylau: “Haut les Têtes.”

In 1890 Corot’s Concert Champêtre cost the Duke 20,000 francs and proved how fully he appreciated the more recent art-movements in France.

His Royal Highness made his last acquisition in 1891, perhaps the most important of all, and one which certainly procured for him immense satisfaction—namely, forty miniatures by the famous Jean Fouquet from the Book of Hours of Étienne Chevalier. These unique treasures were purchased from Herr Brentano of Frankfurt for the sum of 250,000 francs and will be fully described presently.

Plate XXVI.

Photo. Giraudon.

PLAN OF ROME.
Pol de Limbourg and his Brothers.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

The Musée Condé affords the most unique opportunities for the study of French art. The Wallace Collection may be richer in the work of the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries, but there is nothing in that collection which can compare with the examples of French fifteenth and{153} sixteenth century art enshrined at the Musée Condé; for example, the exquisite miniatures of the Brothers Limbourg and of Jean Fouquet, or the precious pencil portraits by the Valois Court-Painters. It is to these that closer attention will be drawn in the following chapters.{154}

CHAPTER XII

FRENCH ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS AT CHANTILLY

Plate XXVII.

Photo. Giraudon.

JANUARY
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 154.

THE leading part taken by French Art in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries was not continued in the same degree during the fourteenth and fifteenth. Nevertheless records have survived which afford sufficient information whence we may conclude that France was at that period not as entirely unproductive as has been hitherto supposed. It is true that, owing to the fact that the wall-decorations in the Hôtel St. Paul, the old Louvre, and the Hôtel de Savoisie in Paris, of the châteaux of Bicêtre and Vaudreuil in Normandy, and of the castles of the Comtesse d’Artois, have been almost entirely destroyed or demolished by fire, siege or climate, native works of art of that period have become extremely rare. Still those few which remain, such as the diptych belonging to the Earl of Pembroke at Wilton,[30] the Parement de Narbonne, now in the Louvre, the wall-paintings in the Cathedral at Cahors and in the Church of Saint-Savin at Poitiers, etc., testify amply to the importance of the work{155} of that period. Moreover, the miniatures of that period have not shared the disastrous vicissitudes of the larger works. Thus the illuminated MSS. preserved at Chantilly offer a special interest and are of an almost unique value in the general history of Art.

By a fortunate chance an Inventory has come down to us, compiled in 1416, immediately after the death of the Duc de Berry, brother of King Charles V of France. This document contains a catalogue of all the art-treasures in his possession; but hardly any names of artists are mentioned except those of Pol Limbourg and his brothers. Among the entries the following is worth quoting: “Plusiers cayers d’une Très Riches Heures qui faisoient Pol et ses frères, très richement historiez et enluminez”—a note which refers without a doubt to the MS. of Les Très Riches Heures now at Chantilly. Another document of no less importance is one drawn up by François Robertet, Secretary to the Duc de Bourbon, which informs us that several of the miniatures in the MS. of Josephus’ Antiquities are by Jehan Fouquet, Court-Painter to Louis XI. Thus it has been possible to identify the authentic work of the Limbourgs and of Fouquet, some of the finest examples of which are to be found in the Musée Condé.

Unfortunately these flashes of light are very rare; and absence of record is no doubt one of the chief reasons why French paintings of this period{156} were so little known and appreciated in France, and why the valuable collection bequeathed by Robert Gaignières to Louis XIV was but little valued by that monarch. Trusting to the advice of the ignorant critics of the time His Majesty reckoned them as of no importance and did not consider the collection worthy of a place in the Louvre; so that eventually, in 1717, it was scattered by public auction under the directions of the painter de Troy.

Thus it happened that, whilst France was acquiring valuable antiques and important examples of the art of the Italian Renaissance, she was unable to estimate or retain the art which had sprung up on her own soil. To cite one example only: Fouquet’s diptych from Melun has been lost to France for ever, one portion of it being at Antwerp, another at Berlin, whilst the beautiful enamelled frame has disappeared altogether.

Fortunately, however, connoisseurs like Reiset and Mariette arose, who bequeathed French fifteenth and sixteenth century pictures to the Louvre; and later still this remarkable legacy from the Duc d’Aumale restored to France some of her own most valuable treasures. By means of these acquisitions this patriotic Prince has constructed a monument to French Art which is as interesting as it is unique.

Plate XXVIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

FEBRUARY.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 156.

The Cabinet des Livres at Chantilly, still just as it was when occupied by the Duc d’Aumale, with his chair, his writing-table, his reading-lamp and half-burnt candle, contains no less than fourteen thousand{157} manuscripts of the very highest importance. The most noteworthy amongst these are: the first ten books of St. Augustine’s Cité de Dieu (translated by Raoul de Presles); Aristotle’s Ethics (translated by Nicolas Oresmes); Livy’s Second Decade (translated by Pierre Bersuire); all of which at one time belonged to the Duc de Berry. Then there is the third volume of the Gallic War, a free translation of the Commentaries of Cæsar,[31] on the last page of which is the following inscription: Albertus Pichius, auxilio Godofredi pictoris Batavi faciebat praecipiete Francisco Molinio mense novembris anno quinquimillesimo vigesimo; whence we derive information regarding the date of its completion, the names of the artists who were entrusted with it and even the name of the man who commissioned it on behalf of Francis I.

Most interesting are a selection of the Table Ronde used by Gaston Paris in Vol. XXX of the Histoire littéraire de la France and a copy of Dante’s Inferno with a Commentary by Guido of Pisa. Furthermore a French translation of Cicero’s Rhetorics written in 1282 by Master Jean d’Antioch and commissioned by a monk called Guillaume de Saint-Etienne of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem: a MS. which throws interesting light on still more ancient translations and is ornamented with fine old miniatures; a French translation of Valere Maxime{158} (in two volumes), which belonged to the Cardinal George d’Amboise; a translation of Diodorus Siculus, with a frontispiece representing King Francis and his Court; and an illuminated manuscript, known to have been the Book of Hours of Anne de Montmorency, offer more than ordinary interest. This last belongs to the sixteenth century and contains miniatures in the style of Jean Cousin.

Next comes a Legenda Aurea, which once belonged to Charles V of France and which in its time has travelled back and forth between England and France (as was so often the case with old books and manuscripts); for on the last page we read in an unknown hand:

Plate XXIX.

Photo. Giraudon.

APRIL.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 158.

Other extremely important MSS. acquired by the Duke himself are the MS. de la Coche de Marguerite d’Angoulême and the Psalter of Queen Ingeburge, of which the Duke was particularly proud. It commences with a Calendar, followed by a series of paintings on gold backgrounds representing scenes from the Old and New Testaments, and dates from the thirteenth century. It belonged to Queen Ingeburge, the unhappy and neglected wife of Philippe Auguste and in it are entered the names of her father, Waldemar the Great, King of Denmark, of her mother, Queen Sophia, and of the Comtesse Eleanore de Vermandois, her faithful friend during long years of trial, thus{159} proving unquestionably her ownership of this precious volume. She has, moreover, entered in it the date 1214, the year in which she was recognised as Queen of France. On the last page appears the following entry: “Ce psaultier fut de Saint Loys,” showing that the MS. subsequently came into the possession of St. Louis, King of France, himself. In Charles V’s Inventory, dated 1380, it is described as “mon gros psaultier, nommé le Psaultier St. Loys, très richement enlumyne d’or et d’ancien ymages,” and we learn that in 1428 it was preserved in the Château of Vincennes. From that time, however, it disappeared for nearly two hundred years until it was found in England by Pierre de Bellièvre, who secured it and presented it in 1649 to Henri de Mesmes. The miniatures are similar in style to those found in English MSS. of the thirteenth century; the colours are luminous, black and blue being predominant, and the whole work is painted on a gold ground. The initial letters and the decorative caligraphy show skilful technique and were evidently designed at the period of which Dante speaks as “L’onor di quell’arte ch’alluminare è chiamata in Parisi.”[32] It is very probable that this Psalter of Queen Ingeburge[33] served as the model for many other illuminated manuscripts.{160}

Another noteworthy royal MS. acquired by the Duc d’Aumale which is of special importance is the Breviary of Jeanne d’Evreux. Amid the delicate decorations of the border around the illuminated text may be seen the coats-of-arms of France, Navarre, and Evreux; and it contains no less than one hundred and fourteen miniatures in grisaille upon coloured and gold backgrounds. The Gothic attitudes and graceful figures recall the style of Jean Pucelle, which, dating from the years 1327-1350, had been introduced into Paris before the coming of Northern realism.

Jeanne d’Evreux, wife of Charles IV, was well known as a connoisseur in illuminated books, and this exquisite work of art passed to Charles V, by whom it was kept at Vincennes in a coffer along with the Breviary of Belleville.

The small Book of Hours belonging to M. Maurice de Rothschild (published in facsimile by Count Delisle), the Missal of St. Denis in the Victoria and Albert Museum, the Book of Hours designed for Jeanne de France, Queen of Navarre, in the Yates Thomson Collection, form a group of beautiful codices which have rightly been compared with this MS. of Queen Jeanne d’Evreux.

Plate XXX.

Photo. Giraudon.

MAY.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 160.

The greatest gem, however, of all these illuminated MSS. is unquestionably the precious volume known as Les Très Riches Heures of the Duc de Berry. The Duc d’Aumale himself relates the history of its acquisition in 1855. On his way to visit his mother Queen Marie Amélie, then lying{161} ill at Nervi, he visited the Villa Pallavicini at Pegli, near Genoa—at that time a boarding-school for young ladies—in order to examine a MS. to which his attention had been drawn by Sir Antonio Panizzi, Principal Librarian of the British Museum. Without any hesitation he arranged on the spot to purchase the work of art for a sum of 18,000 francs. On his return to Twickenham (where he was then residing), the Duchess herself carefully unfolded the newly acquired treasure from its “cassetta foderato di velluto” and every connoisseur of note at once hastened to examine the wonderful MS. which the Duke had been so fortunate as to acquire. As early as 1857 Waagen wrote about it with much detail; later Count de Laborde, Anatol Gruyer, and Leopold Delisle followed; and recently, and more exhaustively, Paul Durrieu also. But it was Delisle who made the important discovery that the Très Riches Heures could be identified with the MS. described in the Inventory of the Duc de Berry: “Item une layette plusiers cayers d’une ‘Très Riches Heures’ que faisoient Pol et ses frères, très richement historiez et enluminez.” The same writer also discovered that these leaflets were valued at 500 livres tournois (about 20,000 francs), a very large price for that time, and one which showed the high value in which this manuscript was held even at that date.

The death of the Duc de Berry brought these precious pages, begun under such brilliant auspices,{162} to a sudden standstill; and in consequence of that prince’s debts—which arose chiefly from his expensive artistic tastes—a sale of his property immediately took place. The Duc de Bourbon and the Comte d’Armagnac (the husbands of his two daughters and co-heiresses) were making war upon one another on account of the murder of the Duc d’Orléans by Jean Sans Peur—a war known in history as the War of the Armagnacs and the Burgundians. Amid these disturbances there was scarcely time to think of illuminated MSS.; for which reason the work of Pol de Limbourg and his brothers was suspended, and was not resumed until the year 1454, long after their death—unfortunately by a far inferior hand—that of Jean de Colombe. By that time the volume had come into the possession of Charles of Savoy and his wife Blanche of Monferrat. It is not difficult to explain how this Breviary came into the House of Savoy—a fact which is proved by the armorial bearings and two miniature portraits of Charles—because both husband and wife were descendants in direct line from Bonne de Berry (one of the daughters of the Duc de Berry), who had first been married to a Count of Savoy. In 1501 the MS. passed to Margaret of Austria, wife of Philibert of Savoy, a Royal patroness of the Arts who corresponded with Jean Perréal regarding the tomb of her husband in the church at Brou. By her this MS. was provided with a velvet cover and a silver padlock; and she no doubt took it to Flanders with her after her husband’s death.{163}

Plate XXXI.

Photo. Giraudon.

JUNE.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 162.

Comte Paul Durrieu identifies the Très Riches Heures with a MS. mentioned also in an Inventory of 1523 as “une grande heure escripte à la main,” whereby it can be explained how the Grimani Breviary,[34] executed about the end of the sixteenth century, and other Flemish MSS. have obviously taken this famous Codex as a model; and even in some points copied it very closely.

When Margaret of Austria died in 1530 the volume passed into the hands of one of her executors, Jean Buffant, Treasurer to the Emperor Charles V; and from that time there occurs a gap which even Paul Durrieu has so far been unable to fill. The present binding of red morocco leather belongs to the eighteenth century and bears the coat-of-arms of the Spinola family, which points strongly to the probability that the volume also once belonged to the celebrated General Spinola, who captured the town of Breda—an historical event immortalised by Velasquez. From the Spinolas it came into the family of the Sèvres, a fact proved by another coat-of-arms amongst the illuminations; and from a member of that family it was acquired by the Duc d’Aumale, by whom it was deposited at Chantilly.

From this amazing list of MSS. we may see that nearly all the important books and manuscripts of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries are represented at Chantilly. Some portions of the collection go back to the old Montmorency and Condé{164} acquisitions; whilst the Duc d’Aumale himself has described the origin and vicissitudes of the articles gathered in by himself in his admirable work The Philobiblon Miscellanies, which will always remain the best guide to the Cabinet des Livres at Chantilly.{165}

Plate XXXII.

Photo. Giraudon.

JULY.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 164.

CHAPTER XIII

LES TRÈS RICHES HEURES DU DUC DE BERRY

THE Duc de Berry was one of those enlightened and enthusiastic patrons of Art who, by giving numerous commissions to the artists of his time created important centres of Art in Paris and Dijon. It was for him that Jaquemart de Hesdin and his school executed the famous Très Belles Heures (now dispersed), fragments of which are to be found in the Louvre: in the collections of Baron Adolph de Rothschild in Paris; and of Prince Trivulzio at Milan: whilst the largest and most interesting portion, known as the Hours of Turin, once treasured in the Royal Library of that city, perished in a disastrous fire in 1904.[35]

It was likewise for the Duc de Berry that the nephews of Malouel, Pol de Limbourg and his brothers, painted these famous Très Riches Heures now at Chantilly. And that the Duke very greatly{166} admired the work of these artists is proved by entries in old Inventories, wherein we find that he showered valuable presents upon them—pieces of gold (coins), rings, etc. He moreover presented Pol the eldest and most eminent of the brothers with a mansion at Bourges, where the artist and his wife resided until his death.

The Duc de Berry was also one of those collectors whose taste rose above that of his time; and who, furthermore, proved to be one of the leading spirits in the development of the Art of that period. Besides famous painters he also employed the celebrated architect Guy de Damartin to build and restore his castles. The discovery of a MS. containing architectural sketches of various fortresses (probably drawn by the hand of this architect himself) proves that the Duke had a fancy to have his various castles introduced with the greatest precision into the backgrounds of the miniatures executed for him in this MS. No doubt it was by his express wish that the landscape details in the Calendar of this famous Book of Hours were copied direct from nature and not treated merely conventionally as hitherto.

Plate XXXIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

AUGUST.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 166.

This remarkable work marks an important epoch in the history of Primitive French Art, inasmuch as its influence extended not only over France, but also to Italy, Flanders, and the School of Cologne. It commences with a Calendar delightfully decorated and illustrating minor passing events in the life of the period, with portraits of the Duke{167} himself, his family, his friends and other personages.

The Month of January[36] begins by showing us a banqueting scene. The Duc de Berry, attired in a richly brocaded mantle and a fur cap, is seated before a screen in conversation with a church dignitary—the only one among the company besides himself who is seated. Three elegantly dressed pages are busy serving a meal, whilst another is playing with some pet dogs; puppies being engaged in eating out of a plate upon the table. Two cup-bearers stand ready with wine and in a prominent position upon the board stands a nef. This beautiful example of the goldsmith’s art was known as the Salière du Pavillon and its design is attributed to Pol Limbourg himself.[37] In the background may be seen the Ducal guards and one of his castles. The face of the Duke appears to be an excellent likeness if we compare it with a Holbein drawing at the Bâle Museum, which is said to have been copied from a statue of this prince at Bourges. Above this miniature, in a blue and gold lunette, appears the Chariot of the Sun drawn by winged horses—a design repeated several times in subsequent miniatures.

The Month of February exhibits a bright wintry landscape, where a silent village[38] with a church tower lies beneath a mantle of white. The feeling{168} of a cold wintry day is well expressed by the heaped-up masses of snow, against which the wool of sheep cowering in their folds is sharply contrasted. We can almost see the shivers of the man to the right, with his mantle drawn close around him. A haystack, bee-hives, birds picking up crumbs, a peasant girl warming her feet at an open fire, are so delightfully realistic, so free from convention, that we feel that the artist has here given free rein to his imagination.

Then follows March: a peasant is ploughing, whilst behind rises the fortress of Lusignan, the cradle of the Plantagenets. The sky is blue and cloudless, and above one of the towers is a flying dragon, intended to symbolise the fair Melusine. A close copy of this miniature is in the Grimani Breviary.[39]

In the Month of April,[40] with the Castle of Dourdan on the River Orge we find a scene characteristic of the period. An exchange of presents—presumably an engagement—is in process between a noble knight and a richly attired lady. The knight is the same personage who is represented in attendance upon the Duke in the banquet scene. Another pair of personages look on with sympathetic interest, whilst two young ladies gather flowers.

Plate XXXIV.

Photo. Giraudon.

OCTOBER.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 168.

The fifth miniature (which the Duc d’Aumale designates as La Reine de Mai)[41] is one of the most charming of the series, for May Day was at{169} that time an occasion of much festivity at the Court of France. A gay cavalcade is passing through a wood, headed apparently by a Prince of the Blood—perhaps even the Sovereign himself—and amid those in attendance the knight of the last picture again appears, his head bound with a chaplet of bay-leaves. He is turning back to gaze at his bride, who rides beside him on a white horse. She wears the same ornaments as in the previous picture, and it is by these that we can identify her. In the background, silhouetted against the horizon, is the Castle of Riom, pleasantly situated in its park and gardens. This picture displays with much effect the gaiety of the persons represented, who all seem to be engaged in animated converse. Pol de Limbourg evidently approaches in this picture his highest capabilities; and becomes more and more independent of convention.

In the Month of June[42] the Palais de Justice of Charles V with the Sainte-Chapelle are visible in the rear. The reapers shown in this composition and the two graceful peasant girls busy amid the fresh-cut grass have aroused great enthusiasm amongst modern connoisseurs; and we involuntarily recall the paintings of François Millet and the Barbizon School—a school which, after nearly four centuries, has revived the art of realistic landscape-painting in France.

In the Month of July[43] the lofty towers of the{170} Castle of Poitiers, which not long before had been restored by the Duc de Berry, appear in the background. And just as the winter landscape of the Month of February arouses the impression of winter’s snow and ice, so this brilliant composition, in which the sunshine blazes upon the cornfields, makes one dream of the burning days of summer. The sheep, in February huddled together in their pens, are now grazing in a meadow, whilst a young peasant woman is busy plying her shears upon their fleecy coats and a youth watches her with marked interest.

The Month of August[44] presents a hawking party. Two cavaliers mounted on richly appointed steeds, their ladies mounted on pillions behind them, are carrying hawks. One lady is, however, courageous enough to manage her own palfrey, and holds a hawk upon her left wrist. Behind, labourers are pursuing their toil and bathers are sporting in a stream. At the back rises the Château d’Estampes which the Duc de Berry had recently bought from his brother Louis of Anjou. The landscape is here treated with admirable freedom. The artist has painted what he saw, just as it really was, and the outlines of the château are represented with remarkable fidelity.

The Castle of Saumur appears in the September miniature, where a vintage is proceeding with life and vigour.

Plate XXXV.

Photo. Giraudon.

DECEMBER.
Pol de Limbourg.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 170.

October[45] brings with it ploughing, whilst a{171} man scatters seed only to be devoured at once by flights of hungry birds. In the rear various groups of figures parade up and down upon a quay before the old Palace of the Louvre.

The Month of November is a disappointment. It is conjectured that the artist intended to present the Tour de Nesle, the Duke’s stately town-residence, but that through his sudden death the page was left unpainted until a century later, when Jean de Colombe undertook to fill it in. It represents a swineherd with his pigs who are grubbing for acorns; but the landscape is only a feeble attempt to imitate the earlier work. The lunette, however, was evidently painted by the Limbourgs.

In December[46]—the last of the series—a hunting-scene is presented, with a pack of hounds careering through a spacious park, in the background of which is the Keep of Vincennes, the Duke’s birthplace. This miniature, which somewhat differs in conception from the earlier ones, was probably executed by one of the brothers of Pol Limbourg.

The fascinating landscapes and the graceful architecture of these Calendar Months excite our keenest admiration; for we must remember that at this early date (1415) landscape-painting had hitherto been treated as mere decoration, without any attempt at reality or probability.[47] Their special charm lies{172} very largely in their truthfulness to nature, and the Duc de Berry himself added still further to this element when he insisted upon the introduction of accurate representations of his own castles and their surroundings.

Immediately after the Months we come upon a strange miniature, which, since it also displays the escutcheon of the Duc de Berry, may be assigned to the years 1415-16 and is therefore presumably the work of the Limbourgs. Two nude figures, classical in conception, are presented propped back to back against one another. As in the case of the statue found at Porto d’Anzio, doubt has recently arisen with regard to their sex.[48]

It has been suggested that these two figures were inspired by the Three Graces of Siena; that they are not meant to represent the Dioscuri, as had been hitherto supposed; but that they are two tall slender women such as we find in early Renaissance Art inspired by Greek originals. Their tresses are arranged in the characteristic Greek knot and their slender bodies exhibit the Astrological and Horoscopical connection between the various members of the human organism and the Signs of the Zodiac. We do not find amongst the illustrations of the Middle Ages anything analogous to this curious painting, so that it may be reckoned amongst the many entirely original ideas peculiar to this interesting Codex.

Plate XXXVI.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE ZODIAC.
Pol de Limbourg and his Brothers.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 172.

This curious design is followed by small but{173} exquisite miniatures of the Four Evangelists and of the Tiburtine Sybil prophesying to Augustus. Our attent ion is then drawn to a large design representing the Terrestrial Paradise. Four different scenes are shown on the same plane: Eve receives the apple from the Serpent; she offers it to Adam; the Almighty interrogating the offenders; and their expulsion from Paradise through a Gothic gateway by a stern-looking angel with scarlet wings. This miniature, out of the entire number of not less than 206, is the only one which exhibits a marked Flemish influence and reminds us of the fact that the Limbourgs were nephews and pupils of Malouel, Court-Painter to the Duke of Burgundy. All the other miniatures in this Codex which can be assigned to these artists are pre-eminently French in feeling and sensitiveness, showing only occasionally a trace of the influence of Simone Martini: as, for example, Christ bearing His Cross.

The scenes from the Life of Christ commence after traditional fashion with the Annunciation and end with the Crucifixion. The Annunciation is perhaps one of the most attractive of the series. It no longer expresses merely Mediæval symbol but seems rather to simply represent a story; so that we feel that we are already on the threshold of the Renaissance. The Virgin kneels before a fald-stool in a Gothic chapel, whilst the Holy Dove hovers above her head. Smiling with gentle content, she welcomes the salutation of the Archangel—a handsome youth who bears in his{174} hand a branch of lilies. Tastefully grouped around the central composition are angels singing and playing on musical instruments, and the whole is executed in most vivid colours. The armorial bearings of the Duke, a fleur-de-lys displayed between a bear and a swan, have given rise to the canting word Oursine (ours-cigne), which is said to have been the name of the Duke’s favourite mistress. They occur frequently in this MS.

The Adoration of the Infant Saviour, with choirs of rejoicing Angels around the roof of the stable and Joseph—an Oriental-looking personage with a long beard—in deep contemplation, is a representation full of novelty and charm. A shepherd, followed by his flock, draws near to gaze in awe upon the Divine Babe.

On the next page a number of shepherds are pointing to a choir of angels who are singing and making melody in the air, whilst in the distance rises a majestic Gothic cathedral, probably intended to represent the Temple at Jerusalem. In the foreground is one of those conventional hillocks so often met with in old mosaics; but the fountain of running water which rises upon it and from which the sheep are drinking is realistically conceived. It is interesting, therefore, to note the admixture of symbolic tradition with realistic feeling.

Plate XXXVII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE PROCESSION OF THE MAGI.
Pol de Limbourg and his Brothers.
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 174.

The Procession of the Magi, again, is an example of the Limbourgs’ facility in applying new forms to conventional conceptions; and it is worth observing{175} how anxious they evidently were to study the special wishes of their patron the Duke. We learn from the Inventory of this Prince that he was an ardent collector of medals, and that he had bought from a Florentine dealer a medal of the Emperor Constantine. The figure of the most prominent of these three Magi on the left of the scene appears to have been copied from this very medal.[49] In the background may be noticed the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris and the Sainte Chapelle. Again two bears are introduced in allusion to the Ducal device. In the centre of the picture is a tabernacle of pure French Gothic style adorned with figures of prophets and saints. These tabernacles were used in the fourteenth century (the Duc d’Aumale observes), as halting-places between Paris and Saint-Denis and were called Montjoies.

The Fall of the Rebel Angels[50] which comes next is one of the loveliest pages of the series. God the Father, surrounded by Cherubim and Seraphim, is enthroned above the golden rays of the Sun. From amongst the ranks of the Angels—who are seated around in a semicircle—the rebels are being cast headlong to Earth. As Lucifer in his fall strikes his handsome head and diadem upon the ground fire bursts from him,{176} producing a marvellous colour-effect of gold, blue and green.

Although this composition is otherwise entirely symbolical, a body of French soldiers clad in armour of that period, with long staves, are introduced striking down the angels as they fall from above. This wonderful little design, although not more than 10 inches wide, is so full of action that it has been compared to the Signorelli frescoes at Orvieto; and this not without reason, for these miniaturists have, even on so tiny a scale, produced very much the same forcible effect.

In direct contrast to this awe-inspiring composition is The Coronation of the Virgin[51] shown here with a fine combination of grandeur and elegance in style. Our Lady’s mantle is rainbow-hued and her dress of pure white is powdered with golden fleur-de-lys. Angels bearing her crown descend from above, whilst Our Lord Himself raises His hands in blessing. On the right are the Apostles and a group of female Saints, one of whom is said to be a portrait of Oursine herself. On the left is a bishop attended by monks. This miniature seems to be a prototype of a painting by Enguerrand Charonton, executed about half a century later and now at Villeneuve les Avignon.

Plate XXXVIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE FALL OF THE ANGELS.
Pol de Limbourg and his Brothers
From the “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 176.

The Temptation of Our Lord deserves somewhat special attention. The scene is represented as taking place upon a conventional mountain-top; and Satan is pointing to a castle with three towers:{177} none other than the Duke’s celebrated Castle of Mehun-sur-Yèvre,[52] described by Froissart as the most beautiful place on earth.

In the Crucifixion, in accordance with the Biblical text, the artists have endeavoured to represent eclipses of the Sun and of the Moon, thus creating for the first time, as early as 1415, that chiaroscuro which later on was so much admired when employed by Rembrandt and Correggio.

The Miracle of the Loaves, within its graceful frame, is also extremely interesting; and not less noteworthy is a Plan of Rome,[53] in which may be observed the old basilica of St. Peter, Santa Maria Maggiore, the Lateran, the Colosseum and the Capitol, the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, the aqueducts, etc. Nothing is to be seen of the Forum, for at that time no excavations had yet been made.

In conclusion we must mention the exquisite miniature representing Mont St. Michel, with the dragon and St. Michael fighting in the air, a lake and sailing-boats below, and the effigy of the fair Oursine enshrined in the letter B.

Attempts have been made from time to time{178} to trace throughout these beautiful pages the different hands of the three brothers, but no definite conclusion has been arrived at. It is, however, certain that Pol, the greatest of the three, was the leading spirit, and that he was the sole author of the Calendar Months, except that of November, which, as has already been mentioned, was completed seventy years later by Jean Colombe. In this design, and likewise in that part of the book executed by this latter artist, the originality which fascinates us so much in the work of the Limbourgs suddenly vanishes and we find ourselves contemplating mediocrity. In the Pietà (one of Jean Colombe’s miniatures) kneeling figures of the Duke and Duchess of Savoy are introduced. We cannot help wondering what different results might have been achieved had Duke Charles of Savoy, on inheriting the Très Riches Heures, employed Bourdichon or Perréal to complete them—or perhaps Simon Marmion of Valenciennes, who at that very time was painting his celebrated altarpiece for St. Bertin. Unfortunately this prince was not a connoisseur like his august relative the Duc de Berry, and he was unable in consequence to distinguish great art from lesser achievements.{179}

Plate XXXIX.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN.
Pol de Limbourg and his Brothers
From The “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry.”

To face page 178.

CHAPTER XIV

JEAN FOUQUET OF TOURS

IT is reasonable to inquire with some misgiving whether the Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry[54], so far surpassing all other artistic creations of its period, are the only record of the labours of Pol de Limbourg and his brothers which has come down to us. This would seem to be almost the case, if we except the Belles Heures de Jean de Berry (now in the possession of Baron Edmond de Rothschild,) which was the livre de chevet of the Duke and is far smaller in dimensions than the Très Riches Heures.

We can trace in the Bible Moralisée (MS. Français 166 Bibl. Nat.) miniatures strongly recalling the style of the Limbourgs, and if we proceed to compare some of its later pages, supposed to have been the work of the young Fouquet, with similar subjects as in the Chantilly Codex a distinct resemblance can be observed. For instance a representation of Paradise in the Bible Moralisée closely resembles the Limbourgs’ treatment of the same subject in the Très Riches Heures. A few pages farther on the same scene appears, attributed once more and not without reason to Fouquet—probably{180} an early work—which shows the decided influence of his predecessors and tends to suggest that Jean Fouquet of Tours must have been a follower of Pol de Limbourg. At any rate his taste for landscape-painting is already in evidence here, and from the first he appears to have clearly grasped the fact that his predecessors’ greatness lay very largely in this branch of the art of painting, so that he specially laid himself out to make it his own also. The banks of the Loire and the country surrounding his native town of Tours were his favourite subjects, and his treatment of these provoked the fervent admiration of his Italian friend Florio.

Plate XL.

Photo. Giraudon.

ETIENNE CHEVALIER AND HIS PATRON SAINT KNEELING BEFORE THE VIRGIN.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face plate XLI.

Fouquet was born in 1415, and was already famous when Louis XI ascended the Throne of France, and made him his Court-Painter. He was, moreover, well known in Italy before 1443; for he was commissioned whilst in Rome to paint a portrait of Pope Eugenius IV which is known to have been long preserved in the Sacristy of Santa Maria sopra Minerva, but which has only come down to us in a mediocre engraving. Filarete in his Treatise on Architecture, dedicated to Francesco Sforza, speaks of Fouquet as famous for portraits from life, and mentions this very portrait of the Pope, together with those of two members of his family. His name was still remembered in Italy in the sixteenth century (he died before 1480), for Vasari mentions him as Giovanni Fochet assai lodato pitor. And Jean de Maire of Belgium, who lived at the Court of that highly cultured patroness of the Arts,{181} Margaret of Austria, daughter of the Emperor Maximilian, recalls Fouquet with highest commendation. Indeed this princess, according to an Inventory of 1516, seems to have owned a small Madonna painted by this master: “Un petit tableau de Notre Dame bien vieux de la main de Fouquet ayant etuy et couverture.”

Plate XLI.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE VIRGIN AND CHILD RECEIVING HOMAGE
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 180.

We know that Fouquet painted the portraits of Charles VII and of Juvenal des Ursins in the Louvre, and also a recently acquired portrait of a Man with a Glass of Wine. The life-sized portraits of Etienne Chevalier attended by his Patron Saint at Berlin and the powerful likeness of an Unknown Personage in the Lichtenstein Gallery are by his hand. But although he won great fame as a portrait-painter during his lifetime it is upon his achievements as a worker in miniature that his highest reputation is based.

Plate XLII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE MARRIAGE OF THE VIRGIN.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 182.

A very large number of the collections of miniatures have fortunately been spared to us, and they have come down to us in almost perfect condition. The most important may be enumerated as follows: the Statutes of the Order of St. Michael; the Boccaccio at Munich; the Book of Hours painted for Etienne Chevalier; the Chronique de France in the Bibliothèque Nationale; some MSS. now in the possession of Mr. Yates Thomson; and, finest of all, the Antiquitates Judæorum of Josephus. In the Statutes of the Order of St. Michael (MS. 19819 Bibl. Nat.) Louis XI, as Founder of the Order, is portrayed surrounded by his thirty-six Knights.{182} A similar miniature, but of somewhat greater dimensions, forms the frontispiece of the Boccaccio, which was executed for the Controleur Laurens Gyrart and is now in the Public Library at Munich. Count Paul Durrieu believes—and not without reason—that all the miniatures in this Codex are by Fouquet himself. On the frontispiece, a leaf not more than 20 inches square, Charles VII is depicted surrounded by about 150 dignitaries—judges, magistrates, etc.—passing judgment on Duc Jean d’Alençon. The scene is laid at the Castle of St. George in Vendôme, and amongst those present is Etienne Chevalier and the artist himself.[55] Most realistically conceived are the crowd of onlookers, some of whom, pushing forward, are being vigorously repressed by the guards. The Chronique de France (MS. Français 6465 Bibl. Nat.), in which fifty-five illustrations record events in the Life of Philippe Augustus, one of them showing the Coronation of Charlemagne in the old Basilica of St. Peter at Rome, is another work by Fouquet which is full of points of interest. His illustrations to the French translation of the Antiquitates Judæorum of Josephus—now in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris—are usually reckoned as his chef d’œuvre. The Duc de Berry had, in the first instance, commissioned André Beauneveu to execute this MS., but presently it came, by way of inheritance, into{183} the hands of Jacques d’Armagnac, Duc de Nemours, who engaged Fouquet to complete the unfinished work. A note in the first volume of this MS. by François Robertet, secretary to Pierre de Beaujeu, Duc de Bourbon, records that the first three miniatures in that volume were by the Duc de Berry’s artists, and the rest by Louis XI’s “good painter and illuminator—Jean Fouquet of Tours.” It is by this note that we are enabled to identify Fouquet’s work. Subsequently the Codex became the property of Catherine, daughter of the murdered Duc de Nemours, who on her marriage to the Duc de Bourbon brought the treasure to the Court of Moulins. When, a century later, the last Duc de Bourbon, the famous Constable, was killed at the Sack of Rome, since he had no heirs and was an exile and fugitive from France, all his property, including this Codex, was confiscated and passed to the Crown. In course of time the second volume became separated from the first, and having strayed to England, eventually found its way into the Library of Colonel Townley, whence it was sold in 1814. At that time it still contained thirteen miniatures. It was not, however, until 1905 that it reappeared once more at a sale at Sotheby’s when it contained but one miniature![56] Here it was secured by Mr. Yates Thomson, who recognised its author. Two years later Mr. Warner, Librarian of the Royal Library at Windsor, identified ten illuminated miniatures,{184} then in the possession of King Edward VII, as the work of Fouquet and furthermore as belonging to the very MS. acquired by Mr. Yates Thomson. His Majesty graciously consented to unite his precious fragments with those of Mr. Yates Thomson, and the two owners agreed to present the whole work to President Fallières. Thus the two volumes were once more reunited after a separation of many centuries; but with two sheets still missing. The illuminations harmonise in every respect throughout, except that the designs in Volume I are somewhat superior to those in Volume II. Amongst them one representing the Children of Israel led into Captivity by King Shalmaneser is most interesting and exhibits Fouquet at the zenith of his powers. We may specially notice the exquisitely beautiful landscape and the horses, which recall the art of Pisanello. Another scene labelled Clementia shows the Return from the Captivity; and here we may observe a curious blending of classic architecture with the French domestic style of the painter’s own day. This Codex of Fouquet’s recalls the Belles Heures of Ailly mentioned above, which is considered to be an early work of the Brothers Limbourg (i.e. circa 1403-13).

Plate XLIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE ANNUNCIATION.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 184.

But of all the MSS. illuminated by this artist the one which must most particularly attract our attention is the Book of Hours executed for Etienne Chevalier, the greater part of which is now preserved at Chantilly. Almost all these miniatures are reminiscent{185} of impressions received by Fouquet during residence in Florence and Rome. They were apparently executed during the years 1453 and 1460, soon after his return from Italy and immediately after the completion of the celebrated diptych of Etienne Chevalier and his Patron Saint and the Madonna and Child commissioned by this same Chevalier in 1453 for the Cathedral at Melun in memory of his wife Catherine Buti. One portion of this diptych (the Madonna and Child) is now, as mentioned above, in the Antwerp Museum, whilst the other has found its way into the Kaiser Friedrich Collection at Berlin. The miniatures at Chantilly, forty in number, represent, if not the greatest, at least the most fascinating period of the master’s artistic career. Like the MS. of the Antiquitates Judæorum they also suffered many vicissitudes before finally entering the haven of the Musée Condé. Nicolas, Baron of Navarre and Bearn, a descendant of Etienne Chevalier, in the year 1630, when at the point of death entreated his nephew, to whom he bequeathed his manuscripts, to preserve and augment them “en faveur des gens doctes.” Howbeit that same nephew sold not only the Boccaccio to Munich, but also his ancestor Etienne Chevalier’s Book of Hours. Whilst the former remained intact the latter was mutilated by a dealer, who separated the text from the miniatures in order to sell them individually. It is interesting to note here that Gaignière in his Receuils had copies made of the portraits of Etienne Chevalier and of Charles VII from this MS. and{186} attached to them explanatory notes, as follows: “Charles VII copié après une miniature dans une prière d’heures faite pour Etienne Chevalier, trésorier general de France sous ce Prince”; and again, “Copie d’après une miniature dans un livre d’heures qu’il avait fait faire.”

We may therefore gather from these notes that as late as the seventeenth century the illustrations in this Book of Hours had not been divided from the text. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, however, the portraits were again reproduced by Montfaucon; but this time they were not copied from the originals, proving that the learned Benedictine writer was then unable to discover their existence. Eventually in 1805 forty of these treasures were discovered at Bâle and bought by George Brentano la Roche of Frankfurt, whence in 1891 they passed to the Duc d’Aumale. Besides these forty, four more pages have been identified as belonging to this same book, as follows: one in the British Museum, which represents David kneeling in prayer amid a beautiful landscape; a Mariensippe (Genealogy of the Blessed Virgin) in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris; a fragment in the Louvre representing St. Margaret with a landscape background; and yet one more, St. Martin dividing his mantle, in the Conches Collection.

Plate XLIV.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE VISITATION.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 186.

The forty miniatures at Chantilly are hung upon the walls of the Santuario—so called by the Duc d’Aumale because it sheltered his greatest treasures—i.e. the forty Fouquets, Raphael’s famous Graces,{187} the beautiful painting of Esther before Ahasuerus and the Madonna of the Maison d’Orléans.

The miniature representing Etienne Chevalier with his Patron St. Stephen[57] was intended as a frontispiece for this beautiful book. The powerful Lord High Treasurer of France is represented humbly kneeling, his eyes fixed steadily upon the Divine Mother, who, crowned and seated beneath a Gothic canopy, holds upon her lap the Holy Babe.[58] To the left angels are singing and playing upon musical instruments, whilst a band of children clad in white timidly adore their Infant Saviour. The architecture in the rear of the composition is of special interest, for Gothic niches enshrining figures of the Prophets are intermingled with panels in the style of the Italian Renaissance and Corinthian columns after the manner of Brunelleschi and Michelozzo. A rich display of gold in this miniature gives to it a strongly symbolic character, and may be likened to the dying rays of the sun of Mediæval Art, to which the artist desired to be not wholly indifferent. These exquisite designs clearly exhibit the genius of an artist who had been profoundly impressed by a sojourn in Italy, who had greatly profited thereby and who, by assimilating into his own individuality the fruit of his studies abroad, became a pioneer of pictorial art in his native land. The likeness of the donor himself is especially attractive, for it appears to have been taken direct from life, and, in spite of its smaller dimensions, is{188} superior to the life-size portrait of the same person now at Berlin. It is this smaller presentation that Gaignières has copied in his Receuils.

Plate XLV.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE BIRTH OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 188.

The Marriage of the Virgin[59] is another scene of great interest. The high-priest, arrayed in mitre and vestments, places the hand of Mary in that of Joseph, the chosen suitor, who bears his budding rod. Like so many of the artists of that period, the painter has taken his scene from the Legenda Aurea of Jacopo da Voragine, which tells us how Mary up to the age of fourteen years had lived in the Temple and had there taken a vow of virginity. Howbeit God commanded the High Priest Abiathar to assemble all the unmarried men of the House of David and to give to each a rod, upon which they were to inscribe their respective names. These rods were then placed upon the Altar and to the owner of the one which blossomed first the Blessed Virgin Mary was to be assigned. To this extremely solemn act Fouquet gives a semi-humorous note by the introduction of a realistic figure of Falstaffian proportions and a group of disappointed suitors. In the background behind the principal group St. Anne may be seen clad in exactly the same fashion as in the Mariensippe in the Bibliothèque Nationale. The style of the Temple architecture gives the artist opportunity for introducing reminiscences of Rome. In the broad frieze of fighting warriors we can recognise part of Trajan’s column; whilst the columns which{189} flank the central arch record the gilt bronze columns once grouped around the Confession of St. Peter in the old Basilica. These were, of course, in Fouquet’s time still in situ and they reappear in the miniatures of the Antiquitates Judæorum in a scene where the victorious Pompey enters the Temple in triumph.

As a strong contrast to this composition, where Renaissance and classic architecture are happily blended, the Annunciation[60] transports us to the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris; and we can recognise the long stained-glass windows, the bronze lustres and the shrine which in Fouquet’s day was raised on pillars behind the high altar. Here all is pure French Gothic impressed with the spirit of St. Louis. The action takes place in the foreground; Mary, modest and girlish of mien, and the Archangel, a prototype of those heavenly beings who figure in Jean Perréal’s triptych at Moulins.

The scene of the Visitation[61] is a portico supported by marble columns, upon the frieze of which is inscribed the words “Maistre Etienne Chevalier.” The graceful figure of Mary closely resembles that in the preceding illumination, while St. Elisabeth is presented in the garb of a Flemish housewife. An obviously French servant to the right, with dress tucked up and broom in hand, strikes once more that note of realism which attracts Fouquet so much. In the background is to be seen a well, around which children are playing.{190}

Next follows the Birth of St. John[62] in the chamber of a French home. To the left neighbours come to present their congratulations. Two women prepare the bath and the linen, whilst the new-born infant sits quietly upright upon the Virgin’s lap, who gazes down upon him with tender affection. That this figure is intended to represent the Mother of God is indicated by the fact that her nimbus is unusually large. In the Ghirlandajo frescoes of this scene at Santa Maria Novella there is also a figure which appears to be intended for the Virgin Mary; but very few artists besides Fouquet have introduced her into their presentations of this episode. Zacharias is clad in the robes of a lawyer. Beneath the scene are two quadrangles, in the first of which is inscribed the letter D, and within it is a soldier holding a shield, which in turn bears the initials E. C. (Etienne Chevalier). These initials occur repeatedly in the frieze running round the page. In the second quadrangle, where should have been the first words of the Magnificat, there is painted a lamb and a tasteless wreath of roses, evidently an interpolation introduced by the same hand that separated the text from the miniatures, which we may observe again in no less than nineteen out of the forty miniatures now at Chantilly. This composition of the Birth of St. John exhibits, perhaps more than any of the preceding, the freedom with which Fouquet treats these Biblical scenes.{191}

Plate XLVI.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 190.

The same free tendency may be observed also in the Nativity of Christ and in the Adoration of the Magi. This time and in both these scenes the artist has chosen neither the columns of a Gothic church nor a Roman temple, but remains faithful to tradition and presents the stable of Bethlehem. In the Nativity we may perceive to the right the angel announcing to the shepherds the Birth of Christ. Hard by is a cavern, in which, according to the legend, the shepherds took shelter from a thunderstorm. The Infant Christ is extended upon the Madonna’s blue mantle and St. Joseph kneels between the ox and the ass. A humorous note is again introduced by a shepherd playing on the bagpipes.

The Magi in the next scene are personified by the French King, Charles VII himself, and his two sons—the Dauphin, afterwards Louis XI, and his younger brother, the Duc de Berry, then a mere boy. The presence of the Royal Guard clad in white and wearing helmets, leaves no doubt as to who the personages were whom Fouquet intended to represent. The fortified castle in the background is the Château de Chinon, whither Charles VII retired during the English occupation of Paris and where he received Joan of Arc.

Another illumination worthy of note is the Betrayal. The light which pierces the dark shadows and illuminates the scene itself is very remarkably treated.{192}

The Crucifixion in this series does not attain to the high level of the similar episode in the Très Riches Heures. Its chief attraction lies in the landscape, wherein, however, instead of Jerusalem and the brook Cedron, Paris appears with the Sainte-Chapelle and the river Seine. In the background the death of Judas Iscariot is most dramatically represented. The Crucifixion scene in the Très Riches Heures is, as we have already remarked, a most powerful creation, and by the introduction of chiaroscuro Pol Limbourg succeeded in producing an effect which Fouquet, however much he may have admired it, did not attempt to imitate. He laid greater stress upon the Descent from the Cross. Amongst the men and women grouped around the Dead Saviour the mourning figures of the Holy Mother and near her of SS. Mary Magdalene and John, are clearly indicated. Joseph of Arimathæa holds a vase of ointment, while a man with a peaked turban close at hand has been pointed out as Gamaliel, the teacher of St. Paul.

Plate XLVII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE ASCENSION.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 192.

Fouquet’s power reaches its climax in the Ascension. Our Lord, surrounded by angels, is borne to Heaven on a cloud, and beneath Him golden rays apparently assist in raising Him upwards. Amongst the disciples gazing Heavenwards may be singled out the powerful figure of St. Peter, its simple grandeur reminding us of the creations of Masaccio in the Brancacci Chapel in Florence, which Fouquet must have seen and from{193} which he seems to have drawn inspiration. The figure of the Virgin Mary is also most impressive. No longer the sorrowing Mother bowed down by grief as in the Descent from the Cross, she here appears as the Mother of Christ the King of Heaven, and she shares His victory over Hell and Death.

In the Descent of the Holy Ghost Our Lady is seated upon a golden throne and takes a more prominent part than is usually assigned to her in other representations of the same scene.

Next to this comes the Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin of her approaching death; and in accordance with the Legenda Aurea the Archangel Gabriel is presenting her with the palm of Paradise. This is a somewhat unusual scene,[63] and proves that Fouquet must have studied these legends with considerable care.

In the next illumination, representing Mary’s Obsequies, the same palm is borne by St. John, whilst St. Peter is one of the bearers of the bier.

Fouquet’s presentation of the Coronation of the Virgin does not, as with the Limbourgs or Enguerrand Charonton, take place in Heaven, but in a hall richly decorated in the Renaissance style where the same Corinthian columns are introduced that appear in the Frontispiece.

But one of the most remarkable compositions of the entire series is the Enthronement of the{194} Virgin, a scene which Bossuet describes as follows: “Le ciel aussi bien que la terre a ses triomphes, et l’exaltation de la Sainte Vierge dans le trône que son fils lui destine doit faire un des beaux jours de l’éternité.” And Fouquet does indeed depict this scene in a glow of colour which affords a vivid idea of triumphant festivity. The Virgin, clothed in white, is seated beneath a Gothic canopy to the left of the Trinity. Above her are countless angels and below saints, priests and prophets who are praising God in concert. Anatol Gruyer speaks of this miniature as the most important of all: “What Dante so well described in the Divina Commedia Fouquet painted with masterly hand. It is a painting which may be described as sublime.”

This wonderful series is brought to a close with a representation of La Toussaint.[64] Our Lord, surrounded by angels, is enthroned between the Virgin and the beloved disciple St. John. Below are seated apostles and saints, amongst whom we can again discover Etienne Chevalier clad in a red mantle beside his Patron Saint. On the opposite side kneels his wife, Catherine Buti.

Plate XLVIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

ALL-SAINTS’-DAY.
Jean Fouquet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 194.

Hung separately in the Santuario at Chantilly these forty miniatures of Fouquet form an important monument of French fifteenth-century Art and provide strong evidence that French works of the highest merit certainly existed at that time. Their present scarcity is no doubt due to vandalism and{195} wilful destruction. In these miniatures are apparent all the qualities so characteristic of French Art, i.e. its exquisite grace, its adaptability to foreign elements without loss of its own individuality, its sense of humour, its restrained realism and its overmastering love for Nature.{196}

CHAPTER XV

JEAN PERRÉAL AND BOURDICHON

IT is hardly conceivable that a master like Fouquet, so famous as a painter of miniatures and portraits, should really have left no followers. Indeed, it has been said that he ought to have been succeeded by a French Raphael. Unfortunately the adverse circumstances which surrounded French Art at that period prevented Fouquet’s followers from arriving at the eminence achieved by their master.

We hear of frescoes in the house of Joan of Arc, executed by some unknown artist in 1481 (the year of Fouquet’s demise), which represented that great heroine and her noble deeds. Had they but survived an interesting page of history would have come down to us and we might have even possessed an authentic likeness of her. Montaigne, when passing through the country of Lorraine on his way to Italy, saw these paintings, and makes mention of them in his Journal[65] as follows: “La maisonette où naquit Jeanne d’Arc est toutes peintes de ses gestes; mais l’orage en a fort corrompu la peinture”—a further proof of the havoc played upon early French Art by time and neglect.{197}

A younger contemporary of Fouquet was Simon Marmion, who lived at Valenciennes and is chiefly known to us by his fine altarpiece at Saint-Bertin: a composition now divided between Berlin and London. Moreover, two of Fouquet’s sons served their father as assistants and to them may be ascribed some of the works of his school—such, for instance, as a miniature representing an Angelic Choir shown at the Exhibition of Illuminated MSS. arranged by the Burlington Fine Arts Club in 1908.

Bourdichon and Jean Perréal, Jean Payet and Jean Colombe may be considered as followers of Fouquet; yet documentary evidence is very scanty. It is true, however, that there exist some fragments of historical information which would seem to allude to their work; as, for example, the following fact. Some fifty years ago cartridges which had been made up during the time of the Revolution in default of other material out of old manuscripts and contracts were found in the arsenal of the Hôtel des Invalides; and it was to Comte de Laborde that the idea occurred of making a closer investigation of the composition of these cartridges. After a careful study of those time-worn and crumpled fragments he discovered upon one of them the name of Bourdichon and with it the additional facts that he resided in the town of Tours, where Fouquet was born; that his birth took place in 1457; that at the early age of twenty-one he was entrusted with the execution of certain frescoes in a chapel; and that{198} he was Court-Painter to Charles VIII, whose portrait he painted, as well as that of his Queen, Anne de Bretagne. A small portrait of her son, Prince Orlant,[66] who died in childhood, has been attributed to Bourdichon; and a similar portrait, representing his younger brother Charles, which came to light only recently[67] and was acquired by the Louvre, is evidently by the same hand.[68]

Bourdichon’s skill can be traced with greater certainty in various Books of Hours[69]: i.e. the “Heures d’Aragon,” a small volume adorned with graceful miniatures considered by M. E. Mâle to be one of his early works; while the Prayer Book of Anne de Bretagne, which is authenticated by a document dated 1508 (Bibl. Nat.), is a later and more finished achievement. Compared, however, with Fouquet’s style, the work of Bourdichon seems like wine diluted with water, whilst the total absence of landscape from the backgrounds of his miniatures gives to his figures an unusually cold appearance. His Madonna is distinguished-looking but rather rigid and devoid of expression; his Magdalen though poetical seems lifeless; and as for the portrait of Queen Anne herself and her{199} companions on the Frontispiece it is purely conventional without attempt at aiming at a likeness. Instead of the landscapes which form so fascinating a part of the work of his predecessors we find him introducing great masses of flowers on the margins of the illuminations. The Queen who commissioned the book evidently was devoted to flowers; and thus Bourdichon, probably at her express command, brought them in wherever he could. We must indeed give him credit for a vast amount of charm and delicacy in the execution of these lovely flowers and they form a very perfect and beautiful decoration.

Although M. Bouchot mentions the name of Bourdichon more than once in reference to certain drawings at Chantilly there is nothing amongst the treasures of the Musée Condé which really can be attributed to him with any certainty.

With Jean Perréal it is different. He is the artist who has been identified by some authorities with the mysterious Maître de Moulins. It was M. de Maulde and Henri Bouchot who first propounded this theory; and they were supported by Mr. Roger Fry and M. Hulin after the Exhibition of the French Primitifs in 1904, where a number of works supposed to be by this master were arranged in definite order for comparison purposes.

We know that Perréal at the beginning of his career lived at Moulins, where he held the post of Court-Painter to Duc Pierre de Bourbon; and{200} that there he had the opportunity of studying Fouquet’s miniatures in the Antiquitates Judæorum, then an heirloom in the Ducal Library. Like Bourdichon Perréal appears to have had no taste for landscape, and it was chiefly portraiture that attracted him. This branch of art was, in fact, the prevailing interest of his time, and that so-called inquiétude du portrait manifested itself more or less strongly in the miniature-painting of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries until it almost entirely superseded all landscape work. We find an excellent portrait, for instance, of Charles V of France in the Heures d’Anjou[70] and another in the Bible Historiée[71].

The well-known portrait of Jean le Bon, father of Charles V of France, in the Bibliothèque Nationale is considered to be the prototype of French portraits, and it is therefore not inopportune to compare it with the later portraiture. It was discovered by Gaignières at Oyron, an old château of the Gouffier family, and was the only painting which the Regent in 1717 thought worth keeping out of the sale of this collector’s treasures. It is ascribed to Girard d’Orléans, who is recorded as having assisted Jean de Coste to decorate the Château de Vaudreuil. Girard is also known to{201} have accompanied the King to England, when the latter was held prisoner there after the Battle of Poitiers. It is not improbable that this portrait—which is one of a set of four—was painted during his captivity.[72] Executed in England it no doubt gave an impulse to English Art of the same kind; although it is an undisputed fact that at that period there already existed the paintings in St. Stephen’s Chapel at Westminster,[73] through which England would appear to have a reason to claim—as suggested by Mr. Lionel Cust[74]—priority in time over France. On the other hand, there is nothing in England to compare with the exquisite miniature portrait of the Duc de Berry in the Très Riches Heures or with the work of Fouquet half a century later. The portrait in the Très Riches Heures of the Duc de Berry—who, by the way, along with his brother Louis d’Anjou, shared their father’s captivity in England—was most probably painted from life, since it has that note of realism which is so characteristic of all French Art.

Another remarkable portrait is that of Louis II of Anjou, King of Sicily, also copied by Gaignières.{202} Its date is 1415 and a miniature of it is to be found in the Livre d’Heures which once belonged to King René.[75]

We hear also of an artist whom Charles VI, when choosing a consort, sent to the various Courts of Europe to paint the portraits of eligible Princesses. The name of this artist has, unfortunately, not come down to us.

Plate XLIX.

Photo. Giraudon.

SEIGNEUR DE PALISSE. COMTE DE LIGNY.
Attributed to J. Perréal. (About 1515). Attributed to J. Perréal. (About 1505).
Musée Condé.

To face page 202.

Fouquet, following in the steps of the Limbourgs, unquestionably gave fresh impetus to French portraiture and it is not unreasonable to suggest that the portraits of the so-called Preux de Marignan at Chantilly are sufficiently similar to his style as to be attributable at least to the same school. Before, however, bringing forward the proposition that these drawings may reasonably be ascribed to Jean Perréal we must first refer to the MS. de Saint Michel,[76] which is assigned to that master by no less an authority than Comte Paul Durrieu. And here, at least, we have some historical proof on which to rely. The Dedication to the King on the first page shows that this manuscript was a present from the Duc de Bourbon to his young Sovereign; and it is unlikely that the Duke would have employed upon this occasion anyone else rather than his own Court-Painter whom he might perhaps have desired to bring under the King’s notice. On one of the pages of this manuscript{203} Charles VIII, who was delicate and small of stature, appears wrapped in a wide mantle which imparts to him an air of importance. As St. Michael, he stands between two courtiers and is surrounded by angels, who bear a strong resemblance to the floating angels in the triptych at Moulins attributed to Perréal. Moreover, in the same MS. there is a drawing of a head in profile which recalls a drawing at Chantilly attributed to Perréal, representing the Comte de Ligny, a patron of the artist and confidant of Charles VIII, whom he accompanied to Naples. It is not at all unlikely that de Ligny should have commissioned Perréal to paint his portrait, in which he is represented in a fur coat and cap, similar to that worn by his master the King in the well-known bust in the Museo Nationale at Florence.

A drawing, also at the Musée Condé, representing Lescueur, Bourdillon, and another which, although supposed by Bouchot to be Anne de Montmorency, is apparently meant for Louis XII,[77] have decided affinity with this portrait of de Ligny and with the profile-head in the St. Michel manuscript assigned to Perréal. We must remark, however, that these drawings are inferior in craftsmanship to the supposed portrait of Louis XII. The supposition therefore arises that they may be merely copies from lost originals. The interesting drawing on which Moreau Nelaton[78]{204} discovered the name of Erasmus in the strange, almost illegible handwriting of Catherine de Medicis is most likely by the same hand, and this group of drawings all betray an unmistakeable relationship to another group likewise at Chantilly; namely, the well-known portraits of the Preux de Marignan from which the miniatures in the second volume of the MS. of the Gallic War are reproduced. Bouchot and also Dimier have tentatively ascribed both drawings and miniatures to Jean Clouet. But others, and amongst them both M. de Maulde and the present author,[79] assign the original drawings of the Preux to Perréal.

Plate L.

ERASMUS. JUST DE TOURNON.
Attributed to J. Perréal. Attributed to J. Perréal. (About 1515).
Musée Condé.

To face page 204.

It is strange that Bouchot and Dimier, and also Maulde La Clavière, accept as a foregone conclusion that both drawings and miniatures must necessarily be by the same hand. Yet everything points to the fact that the miniatures in question were copied subsequently (about 1519-20) from these very same drawings by Godfroy le Battave, the author of the excellent grisailles with which this manuscript is ornamented. It stands to reason that it was he who also reproduced the miniature of Francis I on the frontispiece of the first volume of the MS. in question. To judge from the costumes and headgears of these heroes they cannot be dated later than 1514-15, a period anterior to Clouet. It is therefore quite plausible to suggest that Perréal, who at the time of the{205} Battle of Marignan was Court-Painter, received from Francis I the commission to portray his famous comrades, Artur and Guillaume Gouffier, Just de Tournon,[80] Odet de Foix,[81] Fleuranges, the Seigneur de la Palisse,[82] and Anne de Montmorency.

It is a curious fact that all the numerous sixteenth-century French drawings at Chantilly and in other collections should have been formerly attributed indiscriminately to “Janet,” a name employed to designate both the Clouets, Jean and François. Yet we know that Perréal was Court-Painter to Louis XII and that the latter was so enchanted with his work that when he was in Italy he sent for them “pour monstrer aux dames de par deça,” and referred to him as a “portraitiste de visages, qui peint de petits portraits sur parchemin, et sans rival en Italie.”[83] Some years later, after the death of his Queen, the aged monarch sent Perréal to England to paint a portrait of his affianced bride, Mary Tudor. He had previously been sent to Germany for a similar object, so that it was the most natural thing in the world for the young King Francis on ascending the throne to commission a painter, who had already been employed by his predecessor, to portray also himself and his warrior friends.{206}

Yet another drawing at Chantilly may be attributed to Perréal representing Guillaume de Montmorency,[84] father of the celebrated Anne. Judging by the age and the attire this portrait must necessarily be assigned to an artist working before Jean Clouet’s time.

After having adduced these proofs in support of our argument it would seem to be going purposely out of our way not to prefer Perréal as the author of the Preux de Marignan rather than Jean Clouet; and especially as there are a vast number of drawings belonging to the period when Clouet was Court-Painter—1523-39—which clearly prove the greater elaboration of his style.

Plate LI.

FRANCIS I.
Photo Braun & Co. Musée Condé. Attributed to Jean Perréal.

FRANCIS I.
British Museum.

CÆSAR.
British Museum.

As for the miniatures in the MS. of the Gallic War there can be no doubt that they were reproduced from the original drawings at Chantilly, not because the author of the grisailles in that manuscript was unable to execute portraits himself—for he was evidently an excellent draughtsman—but because it was the fashion of the time to have such drawings taken from life and then reproduced in colour in order to spare their noble patrons the inconvenience of sitting so often. We have already stated that Godfroy le Battave reproduced in miniature on the frontispiece of the first volume of this MS. the effigy of Francis I. Beneath on the same page is a miniature of Cæsar, probably copied from an old cameo; whilst the miniature of the King{207} can be traced to a painting now at Chantilly, attributed to Perréal, and formerly in the possession of Gaignières. It represents Francis I at the time of his accession and is so subtle in its representation of character that it fascinates by its obvious verisimilitude.

Another circumstance in favour of our proposition is found in the notes with reference to an intended execution in colours inscribed upon the back of the drawing supposed to represent Louis XII.[85] These notes are in a handwriting closely resembling the handwriting of Perréal in the Comptes de Lyon and in his autographs in the Bibliothèque Nationale, where he speaks of his “croions qui n’est que demy couleurs.”[86]

From the above arguments we are led to the conclusion that this delicate art of pencil drawing must have originated on French soil, and that it was apparently practised by Jean Fouquet,[87] Perréal, and probably also to a certain extent by Bourdichon, before Jean Clouet appeared in France.{208}

Nevertheless, the latter, when he came to Tours, adapted his style—till then more closely resembling that of Holbein—to French requirements; and his son, François Clouet, developed this art to its highest perfection, combining his father’s methods with those of his French predecessors. It is to be hoped, since some examples of the work of the long-neglected Perréal have now come to light, that more proofs of his versatility and power may yet appear, and that we may arrive at something more definite regarding him. The portraits of Charles VIII and Anne de Bretagne, discovered by Bouchot in a small MS. volume once the property of Gaignières, recall the drawings in the Musée Condé which we have assigned to Perréal; and so also does a small panel portrait of Philip le Beau now in the Northbrook Collection.

Plate LII.

Photo. Giraudon.

LOUIS XII. (ABOUT 1514). ODET DE FOIX.
Attributed to Jean Perréal. Attributed to Jean Perréal.
Musée Condé.

To face page 2.

Furthermore, the so-called Tournois tapestry, which may be assigned to the beginning of the sixteenth century, seems to reveal Jean Perréal’s style. It is important to notice that documentary evidence proves that Perréal presided as Master of the Revels on the occasion of the State Entry into Lyons of Philip le Beau and his wife, Jeanne la Loca; on which occasion they were received with great pomp by Louis XII and Anne de Bretagne. We learn that he executed decorations for these festivities, and it is therefore not impossible that his designs may have been subsequently used for the tapestries in question, since they present to us Louis XII and{209} Anne de Bretagne with their Royal guests and numerous suite.

Thus historical record also would seem to favour the theory which we have endeavoured to establish—namely, that Jean Perréal as stated worked with pencil and chalk some time before the appearance upon the scene of Jean Clouet. In spite of the regrettable fact that most of his work has either been swept away by time or is still attributed to other artists enough evidence remains, if one will only accept it, of an activity which it is not easy to discount.

Perréal is also mentioned in Royal Accounts as an architect and sculptor in the service of Anne de Bretagne, who entrusted to him the design for a tomb for her parents, François, Duc de Bretagne, and his wife Marguerite de Foix, at Nantes—a monument subsequently executed by Michel Colombe. The graceful angels who keep watch over the dead and the noble figures of Justice and Temperance are silent tokens of Perréal’s ability. He was also consulted by that noble patroness of the Arts, Margaret of Austria, in connection with the tomb at Brou of her husband, Philibert of Savoy, and for this monument also some of his designs were used.

Amongst the French medals (1476-1515) in the Metropolitan Museum (New York) there is a masterpiece which bears the portraits of Louis XII and Anne de Bretagne. This fine work of art (of which there is another example in the Wallace Collection) is known to have been designed by Jean Perréal{210} (draughtsman), modelled by Nicolas Leclerc and Jehan de Saint-Priest (sculptors) and cast by Jehan Lepère (goldsmith). It is considered to be one of the finest examples of this species of work executed during the French Renaissance and was struck on the occasion of the marriage of Louis XII with the widow of Charles VIII. It was formerly supposed to be of Italian origin but is now authoritatively assigned to Jean Perréal. Reproductions of these medals, but smaller in size, are at the Victoria and Albert Museum. It would seem that the artist’s fame received a final recognition in the fact that immediately after his death in 1528 Francis I sent for Italian painters to decorate Fontainebleau on account of the dearth of native talent.{211}

Plate LIII.

LOUIS XII. ANNE OF BRITTANY. JEAN CLOUET.
Victoria and Albert Museum.

To face page 210.

CHAPTER XVI

JEAN CLOUET

THE veil of oblivion which so undeservedly fell upon Perréal is gradually lifted as we approach the period of Jean Clouet. Even if we except some drawings which we are bound to assign to an earlier period there still remain a great number which, judging by the age and style of costume of the characters represented, must necessarily be reckoned as falling within his period and may be reasonably attributed to him. Mention is made of no less than four persons bearing the surname of Clouet: Jean the grandfather, who painted for the Duke of Burgundy at Brussels about 1485; Jean Clouet, Court-Painter to Francis I; and his two sons—Clouet of Navarre[88] and François, who brought to its zenith the art of drawing in sixteenth-century France.

Plate LIV.

THE DAUPHIN FRANCOIS, ELDEST SON OF FRANCIS I.
Antwerp Museum.

To face page 212.

Jean Clouet,[89] also known as Jeannet, migrated to France and settled at Tours, where he presently married Jeanne Boucault, the daughter of a goldsmith. He first appears in the Royal Accounts in{212} 1516 as receiving 160 livres per annum—a sum which, on the death of Bourdichon in 1522, was increased to 240 livres. Subsequently we find special references to several portraits by him, taken from life[90] which the King was so anxious to see that he sent for them by “diligence and post-horses.” Again we read further on that his wife, Jeanne, travelled expressly from Paris[91] to Fontainebleau in order to convey to His Majesty portraits done by her husband: “Pour apporter et monstrer au dict seigneur aucuns ouvrages du dict Jeannet.” After the death of Perréal in 1528 Jean Clouet remained practically without a rival. Only one artist—a certain Jean Champion who seems to have been in receipt of a very small salary—is mentioned besides him; but none of this man’s work is actually recorded. Amongst the numerous works attributed to Jean Clouet absolute certainty may be given to a portrait of Oronce Finé, which, however, has only come down to us through a mediocre engraving in Thevet’s series of Hommes Illustres. Thevet speaks of this portrait as an authentic work by Jean Clouet on the authority of the mathematician’s own son but it is not easy to judge fairly the work of any artist by an engraving. We can, however, gather enough from it to justify us in concluding that Jean Clouet’s craftsmanship was of a more elaborate nature than that which may be observed in the portraits of the Preux de-Marignan.{213} The portrait of Oronce Finé, for example, bears far more resemblance to that of Duc Claude de Guise,[92] of which there is a drawing at Chantilly and a coloured copy in the Pitti Gallery at Florence, both executed at about the same time. Then again there is at Hampton Court an excellent portrait of an Unknown Man holding a volume of Petrarch, which is attributed to Jean Clouet. The original drawing for this somewhat later and more artistic piece of work is also at Chantilly. Another drawing likewise at Chantilly (a capital example of the artist’s methods) represents Francis I after his reverses at Pavia, wherein His Majesty has lost that expression of youthful buoyancy so conspicuous in the oil-painting in the same collection. He wears his cap adorned with a white plume no longer close-set as formerly and straight on his forehead, but according to the fashion of the day with the hair projecting from underneath it and slightly tilted to the left. His beard has also been allowed to grow, in order, it is said, to hide a scar on his cheek. This drawing was unquestionably taken from life, and was used for the portrait in oils now in the Louvre; which serves to prove how much care and diligence Jean Clouet expended upon his portraits. Just as a sculptor uses the clay for his models, so with equal faithfulness the artist made his drawings serve for his final portraits in a heavier medium. This small painting,[93] now recognised as an{214} original work, is infinitely superior to the larger portrait,[94] also in the Louvre, although both have evidently been copied from one and the same drawing. Both portraits were formerly at Fontainebleau, where tradition had always assigned them to Jean Clouet. This likeness of King Francis seems to have been a very favourite one for we find numerous copies of it: for example, in the Méjanés Collection at Aix; in the Recueil Marriette; and in the Recueil d’Orange in England.[95] There are no less than eight copies of it in St. Petersburg, and the one in Florence is said to have been made by Queen Catherine herself. A later portrait of this King, likewise at Chantilly, represents him in middle age, when years had already begun to tell upon him and the lines of his face had become heavy and drawn. The original drawing for this—perhaps also by Jean Clouet—is lost, but a copy survives in the Recueil Lenoir. A miniature in oil at Florence, in which the King is represented on horseback, seems to have been designed from this drawing; whilst another similar miniature in the Louvre (Collection Sauvageot) is generally considered to be the work of François Clouet, who had at that time just begun his artistic career under his father’s direction. This is probably the last likeness of Francis designed by Jean Clouet. It appears to have been painted in 1539 and may be regarded as the official portrait of this King. It is certainly vastly superior to{215} another even later portrait, of which there is a copy in the Louvre and a miniature in the Recueil du Tillet (Bibliothèque Nationale), where His Majesty is shown to have greatly increased in girth. Another similar miniature is in the ante-room at Chantilly, the King being again represented on horseback after a fashion affected by the succeeding Valois Kings; and the same original reappears in the Book of Hours of Catherine de Medicis, where Francis figures as King David; appearing to be older than he really was, for he was but fifty-three when he died. Both Thevet in his Hommes Illustres and Gautier in his Kings of France reproduce this same portrait.

Plate LV.

MONSIEUR DE NEVERS. DUC DE GUISE.
Musée Condé. Jean Clouet.

The likeness of Francis I at Hampton Court, though painted by some mediocre copyist, has a special interest, inasmuch as it once belonged to Henry VIII of England. This portrait is reproduced in pencil in the Recueil d’Arras, and another, though superior, presentation of this same King in the Tribune at Chantilly seems to be of the same type. The King is here shown in profile, a treatment copied repeatedly by Limousin, an example being in the Gallerie d’Apollon at the Louvre, where he is seen kneeling beside Queen Claude. The latest portrait of all of this monarch is a drawing at Chantilly taken full face, which seems to have been made as a post-mortem effigy, such as, according to the Royal Accounts, François Clouet was commissioned to make. This again is only a copy; so that of these many and varied{216} types of portrait few only can claim to be the original work of Jean Clouet. In this connection we should like to mention an exquisite drawing recently acquired by the British Museum which represents Marguerite d’Angoulême, sister of King Francis, in the bloom of her youth.[96]

Portraits of Queen Claude[97] are as rare as those of her royal husband are numerous. There is a slight drawing at Chantilly representing the daughter of Louis XII: presumably taken soon after her marriage to the heir to the French throne (which under the Salic Law she could not ascend herself). This marriage took place after the death of her mother, Anne de Bretagne, whose dearest wish it had been that she should marry Charles V, a suitor to whom she had been affianced in infancy. According to Brantôme the shrewd Queen Anne foresaw that her timid little daughter could not have a particularly happy life between so fickle a husband as Francis and so ambitious a mother-in-law as Louise of Savoy; but King Louis thought otherwise and sacrificed his daughter to his patriotism. This drawing, albeit very slight, is not without considerable charm. It dates probably from the same period as the portrait of the young King at Chantilly and may perhaps be attributed to the same artist. It is nothing like so elaborately finished as the drawing of Queen Claude’s sister Renée, which in craftsmanship recalls the drawing of Duc Claude de Guise in the Musée Condé. Another far more{217} finished and far more elaborate drawing, now in Florence, represents Queen Claude some ten years later as Queen-Mother; and it bears upon it marginal notes in no less august a hand than that of Catherine de Medicis herself, which enhances its importance. Apparently this too is a copy of one of Jean Clouet’s lost originals.

Plate LVI.

Photo. Giraudon.

FRANCIS I.
Louvre. Jean Clouet.

The next drawings of interest by this artist in the portfolios at Chantilly are likenesses of the two Dauphins of France[98] and of the other Royal Children: a portrait of the Dauphin François, which was repeated in colours in an exquisite little panel now at Antwerp,[99] with the slight difference that the Royal Child has exchanged his simple cap for a plumed hat; and likenesses of Monsieur d’Orléans (afterwards the Dauphin Henri), and of the third son, Charles, so great a favourite with his aunt Marguerite. This latter Prince had the good fortune to be kept at home when his two elder brothers were given as hostages to the Emperor Charles V after the disastrous defeat at Pavia to be subjected by him to four years of most inhuman imprisonment. Bodin, who was sent by their Royal Father to attend upon his unfortunate sons, relates that he found them in a dark chamber seated upon small wooden chairs. The hardest of straw mattresses were provided for them, and they were not allowed to wear the plumed caps which he brought for them, for fear that by some exercise of necromancy they might perhaps contrive to fly away! According to Brantôme, the poor{218} Dauphin had almost forgotten his native French, so that his younger brother had to assist him in making himself understood. The charming sketch at Chantilly of the Dauphin François wearing a plumed hat was evidently made after his safe return to France.

Plate LVII.

Photo. Giraudon.

QUEEN CLAUDE OF FRANCE. RENEE OF FRANCE, DUCHESS OF FERRARA.
Attributed to J. Perréal. About 1515. Attributed to Jean Clouet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 21.

A slight sketch shows Madeleine de Valois as a child. This princess was married at the age of seventeen to King James V of Scotland; and she is said to have been so delighted at the prospect of becoming a Queen that she soon consoled herself for having to leave la douce France for so rigorous a climate. She was, however, extremely delicate and died six months later, to the unbounded grief of her husband, who for years could not be persuaded to remarry. Princess Marguerite, on hearing of her elder sister’s untimely death, shut herself up in her own apartments and refused food to the great injury of her health; and it was only by the urgent persuasions of her aunt Marguerite d’Angoulême that she was induced to resume her morning walks in the gardens of Fontainebleau and so by degrees to recover. A variety of drawings at Chantilly present this young princess at different periods of her life; and in the earlier of these, as in the portraits of her sister and two brothers, we can trace the handiwork of Jean Clouet. A painted portrait of her (which formerly belonged to Gaignières) in the Tribune at Chantilly, is attributed to Corneille de Lyon, and on the margin is written “Marg. de France, Duchesse de Berry.” She is represented with auburn hair and blue eyes{219} like her brother the Dauphin, whose portrait hangs in the same room. The words “Corneille fecit” are written on the back of the frame by Gaignières himself, who in so doing settled its authorship. Whilst the Dauphin seems in his portrait to be but eighteen years of age his sister Marguerite looks thirty, so that we may conclude that she sat at a much later period. The numerous drawings that François Clouet made of this Princess[100] reveal that amiable disposition so much praised by Brantôme. He speaks of her as “la bonté du monde, charitable, magnifique, liberale, sage, vertueuse, si accostayle et douce que rien plus.” She remained unmarried until she had reached the age of thirty-six, because she declined (it is said) to marry one of her brother’s subjects and yet did not wish to leave her beloved France. When quite young she had accompanied her aunt Marguerite to Nice, where she fixed her choice upon the heir of the House of Savoy, to whom after twenty-one years’ interval she was, when adverse political complications had finally passed away, eventually united.

She was meanwhile much admired at the French Court for her learning. A Latin and Greek scholar of merit, she studied Aristotle’s Ethics and is reported to have sent to Paris for at least three different editions of Cicero. She had no special gift in the use of the pen like her versatile aunt,[101] the authoress of the Heptameron, although she occupied her mind with continual study and much{220} careful reading. She patronised the poet Du Bellay, who translated for her Bembo and Naugerius and she induced him to assert that no century would ever extinguish the memory of Boccaccio and Petrarch. Moreover, she attracted to the French Court Baccio del Bene, of whom Ronsard said that he was the only Italian author worthy of earnest consideration at this period. Her learning acquired for her the sobriquet of “Pallas”; her emblem was an olive-branch; and she was looked upon as the symbol of Platonism in its highest form. Her father, King Francis, paid but little attention to her; but her brother, Henri II, loved and esteemed her greatly and when she married ordered for her adornment magnificent robes, costly lace and jewels, and organised great festivities. It was on the occasion of these nuptials, however, that the terrible tragedy occurred which brought about His Majesty’s death. Like her aunt Rénée at Ferrara Marguerite[102] in her home in Piedmont never ceased to long for her “sweet France”; and every Frenchman who passed through Turin, on presenting himself at her Court, was warmly welcomed and munificently entertained. With her enlightened views she was able to act as mediator in the religious differences which raged so violently in France during the sixteenth century, and which extended into the country of her adoption; and she protected, as far as she was able, the persecuted Waldenses. The last years of her life were devoted chiefly to the education of{221} her son, Charles Emmanuel of Savoy; and Michel de l’Hôpital declared that this Prince owed the success of his career entirely to her. The French Ambassador at Constantinople left to her his entire fortune, and the poet Du Bellay on his death-bed wept bitterly because he was unable to take a last farewell of her. When she herself died there perished with her all that was best in the spirit of the neo-Platonism initiated by her aunt, the first Marguerite; so that it presently fell entirely to pieces under the influence of the third Marguerite, youngest daughter of Catherine de Medicis.

Plate LVIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE DAUPHIN FRANCOIS, ELDEST SON OF FRANCIS I. Jean Clouet.

HENRI D’ORLEANS, AFTERWARDS HENRI II. Attributed to Jean Clouet.

Musée Condé.

To face page 220.

A likeness of Rénée de France[103] which bears some affinity to the portrait of her sister Queen Claude is also to be found at Chantilly. It represents her at the time of her marriage to Ercole, Duke of Ferrara, son of Lucrezia Borgia: nuptials which were celebrated in the Sainte Chapelle at Paris. Like the other French princesses of her day she was extremely intelligent and studious, and during her time the Court of Ferrara became renowned as an intellectual centre to which French visitors were always warmly welcomed. To the complaints of her Italian courtiers that she spent too much money upon her compatriots she replied, “Que voulez-vous? Ces sont pauvres Français de ma nation lesquelles si Dieu m’eut donné barbe au menton, et que je fusse homme, seraient maintenant tous mes sujets, et si cette méchante loi Salique ne me tenait trop de rigueur.” Rénée was a strong adherent of the{222} Reformed Faith and welcomed Calvin to her Court, thereby giving serious annoyance to her husband, the Duke, whose policy it was to keep on good terms with the Pope. The poor Duchess therefore presently found herself compelled to part with all her French ladies-in-waiting on account of their Protestant views. Furthermore, her brother-in-law, Cardinal Ippolito d’Este, was sent to the French Court to discuss these matters with the King, upon which occasion those two connoisseurs and patrons of Art became fast friends.[104]

After the death of her husband the Dowager Duchess was exiled by her son, Alfonso, to Montargis,[105] and there she was visited by the Cardinal—who, in spite of her heretical leanings, had never ceased to be on good terms with her. According to Brantôme she here provided shelter and food for 300 Huguenots who had been despoiled of their goods; and she even went so far as to remonstrate with her son-in-law, François de Guise, for his cruel treatment of the Prince de Condé; saying that “whoever had advised the King to take this course of action had done a great wrong.” Notwithstanding her Calvinistic views she was always reckoned by the Royal Family as a true Daughter of France and was held in high honour by them. Her portraits, like those of her sister Queen Claude, are extremely rare.

Plate LIX.

MADAME DE VENDÔME D’ALENÇON. JEANNE BOUCAULT.

Photo. Giraudon.

Jean Clouet.
Musée Condé.

Besides the portraits of the Valois princes and princesses at Chantilly there are a great number of{223} likenesses of other interesting historical personages. It would, however, lead us too far afield were we to attempt to enumerate them all. Amongst them, however, the most remarkable are as follows: Madame Vendôme d’Alençon,[106] mother of Antoine de Bourbon and of Louis I Prince de Condé (a drawing on a larger scale than most of the others); of the same size, Madame l’Estrange,[107] a lady renowned for her beauty and greatly beloved by the Dauphin François; Henri d’Albret, King of Navarre; Chandus, one of King Francis’ most faithful officers; and various portraits of Unknown Young Men. All these are excellently drawn, may be assigned to Jean Clouet and are evidently taken from life. In some of the portraits we can detect a point of transition between the joint work of father and son: for example, in a drawing representing Louis de Nevers,[108] son of a Princesse de Bourbon and related to the Princes of the House of Cleves. This drawing is incorrectly designated Saint Marsault; but a copy supplies the right name. There is a copy of it in colours in the Lochis Collection at Bergamo, which long passed under the name of Holbein until Dr. G. Frizzoni assigned it to François Clouet, who evidently executed it from the drawing at Chantilly. In this same connection may be mentioned the Sieur de Canaples,[109] and the portrait of an Unknown Lady of singular force of{224} expression, very plainly clad and without ornaments, who may perhaps be Jeanne Boucault[110] of Tours, Jean Clouet’s own clever and devoted wife.

Plate LX.

Photo. Giraudon.

MADAME L’ESTRANGE.
Attributed to Jean Clouet. About 1535.
Musée Condé.

To face page 224.

Before we take leave of Jean Clouet and pass on to his brilliant son attention should be called to a fascinating portrait of a young girl inscribed “la reine Jehanne de Navarre petite,”[111] which, on account of its excellence, might well be attributed to the master himself. In this instance history comes to our aid, for we are informed that Princesse Jeanne (known as “la mignonne de deux rois” on account of the marked affection shown to her by both King Francis, her uncle, and King Henry of Navarre, her father) was in her fourth year removed from the charge of her own parents and transported to Plessis-le-Tours, a château on the Loire; where there was provided for her a suite consisting of a lady-in-waiting, a master of the horse, two chaplains and other attendants. The reason for this strange arrangement was political, inasmuch as Francis feared that Henry of Navarre would negotiate a marriage between this child and Philip of Spain, eldest son of Charles V. In vain the little Princess wept and implored her Royal uncle to allow her to rejoin her mother. Her wish was not to be granted until she had reached her twelfth year, and then only on condition that she should be betrothed at once to the Duke of Cleves, whose sister Anne was wife of King Henry VIII of England—a political scheme to unite the Protestant Princes of Germany and England against the Emperor{225} Charles V. It was probably at the moment when the Princess was about to leave the lonely château on the Loire that Francis commissioned Jean Clouet to secure for him a likeness of his niece before her departure for Béarn. Jeanne, who was born at Fontainebleau in 1528, appears here to be about twelve years of age; so that the drawing may perhaps have been executed in 1539-40, and, since it was one of the artist’s last works it gains greatly in interest.

That François Clouet succeeded his father as Court-Painter in 1541 is proved by a document in the “Trésor des Chartres” which runs as follows: “François par la grace de Dieu, roy de France, etc.... Savoir faisons ... que voulant reconnoistre envers nostre cher et bien aimé painctre et varlet de chambre ordinaire, François Clouet les bons et agréables services que feu M^e Jehannet Clouet, son père, aussi de son vivant nostre painctre et varlet de chambre, nous a durant son vivant faictz en son dict estat et art, auquel il estoit très expert et en quoy son dict fils la jà très bien imité, et espérons qu’il fera et continuera encores de bien en mieux cy après, a icelluy, François Clouet pour ces causes et affin que de ce faire il ayt meilleure voullonté, moïen et occasion, avons donné, octroïé, cedé et délaissé, tous et chacuns les biens meubles et immeubles qui furent et appartendrent au dict Me Jehannet Clouet, son père, à nous advenuy et escheuz, adjugez et declarez appartenir par droit d’aubène au moïen de ce que{226} le dict deffunt estait estranger et non natif ne originaire des nostre royaume et n’avoit obtenu de nos predecesseurs roys ny de nous aucunes lettres de naturalité et congié de tester” (published by E. de Freville, Arch. de l’art Français, t. iii, p. 98).

From the above document we learn the following important facts, namely: (a) that Jean Clouet was not of French origin; (b) that he was highly esteemed by the King; and (c) that after his death François Clouet, his son, inherited all his privileges and favours.{227}

Plate LXI.

Photo. Giraudon.

JEANNE D’ALBRET, WHEN A CHILD. MADAME MARGUERITE, SISTER OF HENRI II.
Attributed to Jean Clouet. Attributed to François Clouet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 226.

CHAPTER XVII

FRANÇOIS CLOUET AND HIS FOLLOWERS

FRANCIS I, King of France, survived Jean Clouet but a few years, so that the artistic career of his celebrated son, François, chiefly developed during the reigns of Henri II, Francis II and Charles IX.

It is difficult to determine what effect Jean Clouet’s death had upon his son, but we are led to suppose that at first he continued closely to adhere to parental teaching. Indeed from 1540 to 1545 it is scarcely possible to discern any of those differences of style so conspicuous a decade later.

Two female portraits, still existing, seem to give weight to this argument. These likenesses, although in the style of the elder Clouet, from the age and the attire of the sitters can only have been drawn during the years 1544-5, by which date that artist had already vanished from the scenes and his son was at work alone.

These drawings represent Jossine Pisseleu[112] (niece of the famous Duchesse d’Estampe), better known under the name of “Hegli,” and the{228} beautiful daughter of Diane de Poitiers, called “Brasseu.”[113] Both of these portraits are rendered specially interesting by the fact that their respective names are written on the margin by Queen Catherine de Medicis. These two ladies, Hegli and Brasseu, are known to have belonged to that gay company known as la petite bande, of which the young Catherine herself, when Dauphine, was also a member.

Francis I, thanks to his own great taste for Art, comprehended to the full the different talents of the artists in his employ; and whilst he commissioned Rosso and Primaticcio to execute the frescoes at Fontainebleau, the two Clouets were successively entrusted with such portrait painting as he required.

At Chantilly there is an exquisite portrait of Louise de Clermont, Duchesse d’Uzez, another of the fair members of the petite bande whom the King nicknamed “la Grenouille” on account of her husky voice and projecting eyes: a drawing which belongs to the same series already referred to; that is to say, an early work with which François Clouet was commissioned after his father’s demise. A miniature taken from this drawing is preserved in the Louvre.

Plate LXII.

Photo. Hanfstaengl.

Photo. Giraudon.

Francis I. Attributed to Jean Clouet. Louvre.

Marguerite of Angoulême. (Sister of Francis I. and Queen of Navarre). Attributed to François Clouet. Musée Condé.

Henri II, whilst Dauphin, had apparently not much chance to employ either of the Clouets, since their time was almost entirely monopolised by the King; but there is evidence to prove that Catherine de Medicis’ children were repeatedly painted by{229} Germain le Mannier[114] and his brother Alois. There exist pencil sketches of Francis II at the age of five, and again at eight years and five months; to which latter there is a pendant representing his fiancée, Mary, Queen of Scots, at the age of nine and a half. There is another of Charles IX aged between four and five years. All of these were executed by this artist and are now in the portfolios at Chantilly.

With reference to these drawings there is a letter still extant, written on June 1 1552 by Queen Catherine to M. Humières (who with his wife were in charge of the Royal nurseries at Saint-Germain-en-Laye), in which she expresses a desire to have all her children, sons and daughters, including la Royne d’Ecosse,[115] painted “sans rien oublier de leur visages.” There is also a letter from Henri II, written on the eve of his accession, expressing a desire to recompense the painter Mannier.

This, however, did not prevent him, as soon as he became King, from taking up François Clouet, whom he commissioned not only to make a post-mortem effigy of the late King, but also to prepare an official representation of himself. His own portrait bears a note upon it, apparently in the artist’s own handwriting, “Le Roy Henry 2”[116]: handwriting which bears close similarity to an existing quittance signed F. Clouet. This drawing, now in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, became very{230} popular. A version completed in colours, is now in the Louvre: it was reproduced in miniature; and many copies were subsequently made by lesser hands.

Contemporary with this portrait is a powerful likeness of the Grand Connétable, Anne de Montmorency,[117] evidently taken from life. In this drawing the individuality of the artist is very marked: more realistic in his tendencies than his father, he is on that account more French. This great warrior, the Lord of Chantilly, is shown here when at the height of his fame, in high favour with the King and with l’amie du roi, Diane de Poitiers.[118] This famous lady herself sat to François Clouet, and so apparently about the same time did Catherine de Medicis, and also Jeanne d’Albret,[119] Queen of Navarre. It is interesting to compare the likeness of this latter princess, so eloquent of a noble mind and a frank disposition, with that of Catherine de Medicis, past mistress in the art of dissimulation.

Plate LXIII.

Photo. Hanfstaengl.

CHARLES IX.
François Clouet. About 1569.
Vienna Gallery.

To face page 230.

Drawings and portraits of Catherine as Dauphine and as Queen of France are comparatively rare. It is as a Queen-Dowager, growing old and well away on her career of dangerous intrigue, that we chiefly meet her in the Galleries of Europe. No small value can therefore be attached to the drawing in the British Museum which came to the nation through the Salting Bequest, inasmuch as it brings her before us at the period when her husband had just ascended the throne of France; and to{231} another likeness at Chantilly, attributed to Corneille de Lyon, which is supposed to be the one executed when she passed through Lyons with Henri II in 1564. Brantôme relates that upon this occasion the great Diane de Poitiers received more homage than the Queen herself, and that portraits were drawn of all the royal ladies, amongst whom was the King’s sister Marguerite (soon to become Duchess of Savoy). The writer further tells us how Catherine, when fifteen years later she revisited Lyons as Queen-Mother, displayed much amusement at the old-fashioned attire in which she and her Court ladies had then been portrayed.

To the years between 1559 and 1570 belong the drawings in the Bibliothèque Nationale, which are considered as marking the height of this artist’s power. Such, for instance, are the portraits of Maréchal Strozzi (1567) and of Maréchal de Vielville[120] (1566), supposed to have been dated by the artist himself, a circumstance which greatly adds to their value.

We are on certain ground with regard to the genuineness of the signed and dated portrait of Charles IX now at Vienna; but, strange to say, the date has here clearly been tampered with. We can ascertain this from the fact that the young King in the portrait seems certainly only about twenty years of age, and since he was born in 1550 the date upon the picture ought to be 1569 instead of 1563. Furthermore, the original drawing (now at St. Petersburg) from which this finished painting was{232} executed is dated 1569. There is also a miniature taken from it in the Louvre.

It would lead us too far if we were to mention all the drawings which bear the stamp of this master’s own hand, but there are some on which we ought to dwell as being examples of his finest work. Amongst these are the drawings in the Bibliothèque Nationale of the boy-King Francis II[121] and of his young and beautiful bride, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots.

In the delicate and subtle pencil drawing of the latter, more than in all her other portraits, we can detect traces of her world-renowned beauty; and this is how she must have looked when, with her young husband beside her, and surrounded by the great dignitaries of State, she entered the Cathedral of Notre Dame for her Coronation. Clouet has succeeded in conveying to us something of the sweetness of her smile, her wistful expression, and the thoughtful look in her eyes. In the miniature at Windsor, which is said to have been reproduced from this drawing, much of the refinement has been lost, and more attention has been paid to accessories, i.e. her dress and her ornaments.[122]

Plate LXIV

Mary Stuart
as Dauphine of France
From the drawing in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris.

A later drawing, in which the young Queen is represented in her deuil blanc as a widow, is among the framed drawings at Chantilly: a portrait probably executed by François Clouet when she was on the point of leaving her beloved France. This is{233} apparently a reproduction from a lost original, and it found its way to Chantilly with the Lenoir Collection. It is no doubt the last likeness of Mary Stuart made in France. The charm which Clouet so deftly imparted to the portraits of this unhappy Queen seems entirely absent from all the numerous likenesses subsequently made in England by other artists. How hard and set, for instance, do her features seem in the life-size oil-painting by Oudry at Hardwick Hall. All that we can perceive in it is the only too-evident havoc wrought by fate upon that beautiful face.

François Clouet’s highest capabilities may be traced in the water-colour sketch at Chantilly which represents Margot de France,[123] youngest daughter of Catherine de Medicis, in her girlhood. It is exhibited in the Psyche Gallery and is considered one of the gems of the collection. Since correct drawing from life was the artist’s first thought this preparatory sketch is superior to the painting, also in all probability executed by the artist himself, which a rare chance has brought into the same gallery. This latter is supposed to be the actual portrait sent by Catherine to her daughter Elizabeth, wife of Philip II of Spain, which the Infante Don Carlos admired so much. Comparing the portrait with those of the other marriageable princesses of Europe, he exclaimed, “This little one is the prettiest of all”; whereat Elizabeth de Valois in a letter to her mother writes: “Le Prince était demeuré en extase devant le miroir délicieuse de la mignonne.{234}”

Clouet has painted the little Princess in a robe of delicate silver tissue adorned with pearls; more pearls are round her neck and intertwined amid the tresses of her hair. Her expression displays that joie de vivre which is known to have been one of her most marked characteristics throughout her whole life.

It is, however, in the sketch that the high qualities of François Clouet as a portrait-painter specially assert themselves. Here he appears as a refined Holbein, endowed with graceful and elegant French qualities. Light and shadow are barely perceptible but are nevertheless sufficiently present to produce the necessary plastic feeling. The costume and the jewels, though reproduced with closest accuracy, do not mar the harmony, nor do they overpower the clearly defined features which retain their fullest importance and prominence.

Plate LXV.

Photo. Giraudon.

ELISABETH OF AUSTRIA, QUEEN OF FRANCE. François Clouet (About 1567). Bibl. Nat. Paris.

JOSSINE DE PISSELEU, NICKNAMED HEGLI. François Clouet (About 1542). Musée Condé.

To face page 234.

Another portrait by François Clouet, equalling this in excellence, is that of la bonne petite reine, Elizabeth of Austria in the Louvre—the youthful consort of Charles IX, whose simple virtues shone out so conspicuously during a most degenerate period in the history of the French Court. The perfection of draughtsmanship in the delicate features is astonishing; and the colouring, of a pale rosy hue, is most effective. The hands, placed one over the other, have in their graceful movements been justly likened to the petals of a white lily. There is a copy of this picture at Chantilly, probably also by François Clouet, but the exquisite{235} hands are absent. Nor are they to be found in the original drawing in the Bibliothèque Nationale, in the famous Lecurieur album which once belonged to François Clouet’s own nephew, Benjamin Foulon. Maréchal Strozzi, Madame de Retz, Albert de Gondi the Duc de Retz, Robert de la Marck, the Duc de Bouillon, Jeanne d’Albret in deep mourning, and many others, have the same provenance and all bear notes in Foulon’s[124] handwriting. It has been suggested by Henri Bouchot that these admirable designs came to the nephew from his uncle who had preserved them in his studio in order to reproduce them subsequently in colour. We may presume then that these original pencil drawings were the immediate work of François Clouet, whilst the coloured portraits were reproduced from them either by himself (as in the case of the portraits of Elizabeth of Austria in the Louvre and at Chantilly) or by the hands of his pupils.

There is, however, one exception to this proposition in the case of the portrait of Pierre Quthe recently acquired for the Louvre. It certainly appears to be a portrait painted direct from life and not reproduced from a drawing; and it reveals to us a new and more intimate characteristic of the artist; since he has here shown us one of his own personal friends, with whom he, no doubt, had many tastes{236} in common. Had this not been so he would not have appended to the picture the following inscription: FR. JANETT OPUS PE. QUTTIO. AMICO SINGULARI ETATIS SVE XLIII, 1562. This portrait, therefore, when compared, for instance, with that of Charles IX at Vienna, gives the impression of being less conventional and more sympathetic. It has the same bluish curtain in the background, and an open book lies on the table, in which may be seen representations of certain plants, alluding to the fact that the person represented was well known as a botanist.

Since the discovery of the portrait of Pierre Quthe we can have no hesitation in attributing to François Clouet another life-size portrait at Chantilly: namely, that of Cardinal Odet de Coligny, hitherto—though with some reserve—assigned to Primaticcio on account of a misleading signature evidently posterior to the painting. This portrait and that of Henri II (Cabinet Clouet) (also attributed, and with much more reason, to Primaticcio), clearly exhibit the difference between the respective artists without need for any further comment. The curtain in the background, for which François had so decided a predilection, is also to be found in the portrait of Odet; and it appears to have been Clouet’s latest work. It exhibits very decidedly his appreciation for Italian methods, more especially those affected by Morone and Moretto of Brescia, to whose work these two large portraits by François Clouet bear a marked analogy.{237}

Plate LXVI.

PIERRE QUTHE.
Louvre.

François Clouet.

Besides a fine drawing in red chalk of this same Cardinal, presented to the Musée Condé by M. Moreau Nélaton, there exist two other drawings, evidently preliminary sketches for the same picture. One of these is in the British Museum (Salting Bequest) and the other in the Albertina at Vienna. These form a further proof that the painting at Chantilly is by François Clouet and not by Primaticcio.

Odet de Coligny, created a Cardinal by Clement VII at the early age of seventeen, was the eldest brother of Admiral Coligny and of Dandelot. In spite of the countless honours showered upon him by the Catholic party he all at once in 1561 astonished the world by openly confessing the Protestant Faith. Like his brothers he became a staunch supporter of Calvin, proceeded publicly to marry Elizabeth de Hauteville—to whom he had for many years previously been deeply attached—and presented her at Court, where she received the title of Comtesse de Beauvais. The scandalised Pope, Pius V, erased his name from the list of Cardinals, whilst Catherine de Medicis merely smiled. It suited her purpose on the death of Francis II to dismiss the Guises from her Court and to admit thereto the Calvinistic party, even to the extent of attending their sermons. This freak of hers did not, however, last long, but by it she enticed the Protestants into her net. Odet de Coligny subsequently retired to England, where in 1570, just when he was intending to return to France, he died{238} suddenly at Hampton Court, not without suspicion of poison.

Plate LXVII.

Photo. Giraudon.

MARGOT OF FRANCE.
François Clouet.
Musée Condé.

To face page 238.

Before concluding this chapter on François Clouet attention should be directed to a specially interesting feature about these drawings. Upon the margins, and also on the reverse sides of most of them, are to be found annotations and legends of the utmost historical and iconographic value. Sometimes they appear to be in the handwriting of the artists themselves: often notes with regard to subsequent reproduction in colours; but more often they seem to be the remarks of the connoisseurs and collectors who at different times possessed the drawing—such as was Catherine de Medicis herself. Her handwriting is to be found upon at least sixteen of the drawings in the Musée Condé, easily identified by existing fragments of her letters in the archives at Chantilly and elsewhere. There is, for example, a drawing of Erasmus which had hitherto passed unnoticed until Moreau Nélaton discovered that the Queen had written his name upon it in her own hand. Her autograph is clear enough also on the drawings which present her favourite ladies-in-waiting Hegli[125] and Montchenu and la Romène; whilst she has also annotated the drawings representing Monsieur de S. Valier, “le père de la Grande Senechalle,” and “Monsieur de Nevers,” “le père de Madame de Nevers.” Then upon a drawing of Brissac (so{239} celebrated for his good looks) she notes “brassac depuis maréchal.” Again, “le fu roy de Navarre, Henri,” “Monsieur de Chateaubriand,” “Monsieur de Voldemont,” and “Chandu, capitaine de la porte du Roy.” Besides the sixteen drawings at Chantilly which so obviously bear the Queen’s handwriting, there is as already mentioned in the Deligand Collection a likeness of “Brasseu,” daughter of Diane de Poitiers, and in the Uffizi a drawing representing Queen Claude, “mère du roi Henri,” on both of which we also find Her Majesty’s angular writing. She has corrected, moreover, the title upon one pencil drawing wrongly entitled Madame de Nevers d’Albret into Madame de Vendôme d’Alençon.

Yet by far the larger number of the drawings bear notes in a variety of different handwritings: at Chantilly, the Bibliothèque Nationale, in the Uffizi and in the British Museum (Salting Bequest). M. Moreau Nélaton is strongly of opinion that these notes were all made either by the Queen herself or by secretaries written at her dictation. He is certainly right in regard to one of these, for we can trace the same handwriting in a private letter “a ma cousine Madame la Connetable” signed by the Queen; and again on the margin of the three drawings representing “François Dauphin,” “Marie Royne d’Ecosse,”[126] and “Charles Maximilian d’Orleans” respectively. It is a{240} well-formed caligraphy with a peculiar trick of abbreviating “et” into “&,” which appears both in the letter and in the notes. There is no proof, however, as to who were the other annotators, whether Court secretaries or not. They may just as well, as M. Dimier[127] suggests, be other collectors through whose hands in the course of time the drawings have passed. This much, however, is quite certain: that all are posterior to the drawings themselves. The different handwritings—of which there are at least four, if not five (including that of the Queen), have puzzled Bouchot as much as Dimier and Moreau Nélaton, and all these authorities have their own special theories upon the subject. It is evident that in most cases the notes do identify the persons represented in the drawings upon which they are found, and they are thus of greatest historical value: and more especially is this the case with the drawings at Chantilly (many of which are stained with blotches of colour), since they are the originals from which were derived the copies and portraits found now in other collections.

Plate LXVIII.

DIANE DE POITIERS.
François Clouet. About 1543.
Musée Condé.

To face page 240.

There is ample evidence to prove how much interest was taken by Catherine de Medicis in French portrait-painting. A list has been found, bearing the heading of “Les peintures qu’il faut,” of the pictures which she desired should be reproduced. Numerous “gens de maîtres” like Philibert Delormes, Jean Bullant, Scipion Bruisbal, and others were busily employed in making these copies{241} from Clouet originals, in order to satisfy the great demand which then existed for them.

After Catherine’s death an Inventory of not less than 476 paintings (amongst which were 341 portraits) was made at the Palais de Tournelle, where she habitually resided; whilst another Inventory notes 39 small pictures executed in enamel, and 32 portraits in colour, 1 foot square each, of ladies and gentlemen of the Court.

An original drawing of Diane de Poitiers is preserved in the portfolios at Chantilly; and a portrait of the same lady executed in colour hangs in the next room (Cabinet Clouet). Similarly the Bethune and Destailleur albums at Chantilly, as well as the Ashmolean collection at Oxford, contain numerous copies from originals in the Musée Condé. Many of these copies were made by enamellers and goldsmiths for the purposes of their respective trades. These, however, are usually of inferior workmanship, although they have a certain value attached to them; especially when, as in the case of Mary Tudor, the original has been lost.

In this connection the Mejanés album at Aix should not be forgotten; for it is no doubt the most important amongst the various albums which contain copies of these original drawings at Chantilly and elsewhere. This collection is supposed to have been copied by Madame de Berry, wife of Arthur de Gouffier, one of the Preux de Marignan. Francis I, whose own portrait is at the beginning of the album, when on a visit to this lady, is said to{242} have composed the remarks which are written on the margins. They are suggestive and often witty; indeed none but the King himself would have dared to fling at Mary Tudor[128] of England the insulting words “plus sale que royale”; whilst Diane de Poitiers is greeted with the flattering remark, “fair to see and virtuous to know.” Perhaps even more important especially, from an artistic point of view, is the Hagford album bequeathed to the British Museum by Mr. Salting, since it includes not only a number of old copies but also several very valuable originals. This collection was made by an English painter, Ignatius Hagford, who lived in Florence in the eighteenth century. He believed them to be the work of Holbein, as is indicated by the frontispiece; and he seems to have even bought also old copies of originals which he already owned. Part of his collection is now in the Pitti Palace; and seeing that the Howard Collection, now at Chantilly, was also originally acquired in Florence, there is strong reason to believe that probably these two collections were once united.

Plate LXIX.

Photo. Giraudon.

MARY TUDOR, QUEEN OF FRANCE. Copy after Perréal.

MADAME DE BOUILLON. Attributed to Jean Clouet.

Musée Condé.

To face page 232.

Henri de Mesmes, a gentleman of whom Brantôme speaks as “un très grand habile et subtil personnage d’état d’affaires de science et de toute gentillesse,” often acted as go-between for Catherine in her art dealings; and it was he who corresponded on her behalf with a certain Claude de Hery, who had been commissioned to make a new engraving from a portrait of Charles IX on his{243} accession to the throne. This artist had failed to satisfy the Queen-Mother and the King, in spite of the fact that his work had been fully approved of by no less a personage than François Clouet himself.

One of the last works of François Clouet was a miniature of Elizabeth of Austria, executed in 1572 and destined for her sister-in-law, the Queen of Spain. The goldsmith Dugardin designed for it a golden frame; and here also Henri de Mesmes acted as medium, as is shown by a memorandum referring to it in the handwriting of Catherine de Medicis herself.

It was in this same year (1572) that the artist died; a year which was also fatal to Jeanne d’Albret, Queen of Navarre, who did not live to attend the nuptials of her son Henri IV with Margot de France. This took place shortly after her demise and not long before the Massacre of St. Bartholomew; a terrible event which reveals Catherine de Medicis in a very different light from that of a connoisseur and collector of works of art. There is a portrait of her in the Cabinet Clouet at Chantilly which dates from about this period. From it the bloom of youth has fled, the face has grown heavier and the smile is more than ever fixed and conventional.

The ablest contemporary and follower of the Clouets was Corneille de Lyon; but he in turn developed a decided individuality of his own. By him are those small portraits, painted upon light-green or light-blue backgrounds, which may be{244} found scattered throughout the Galleries of Europe. As already mentioned, a likeness of the Dauphin François[129] at Chantilly (Tribune) has been attributed to him by Gaignières, to whom it once belonged. It is on the authority of this connoisseur that other portraits in the Musée Condé exhibiting the same style are by comparison assigned to him: such, for instance, as Le Grand Ecuyer de Boisy, Marguerite de France (sister of Henri II), Madame de Martigné Briant, a portrait supposed to be of Madame de Canaples, and a portrait of a young woman, erroneously styled Claude de Valois. [An authentic portrait of this latter lady, attributed to Clouet himself, is at Munich.] Madame d’Elbœuf, presented to the Louvre by the late Rudolph Kahn, is a fine example of Corneille’s skill.

Another artist who followed the Clouet style was Jean de Court, Court Painter to Henri III, the last of the Valois Kings, whose portrait in the Cabinet Clouet at Chantilly is probably an example of his work. His talent is much praised by Desportes; and this likeness of Henri III does not suffer in comparison with the portraits of Charles IX attributed to François Clouet. The pencil drawing of Marie Touchet, Charles IX’s mistress, in the Bibliothèque Nationale is also attributed to him.

Plate LXX.

Photo. Giraudon.

FRANÇOIS, DAUPHIN.
Musée Condé.

Corneille de Lyon.

The painter who acquired the old Queen’s special favour after the death of François Clouet was Carron, who made a series of designs (reproduced{245} in tapestry) from the History of Artemisia, in which Catherine herself is represented mourning for Henri II in the guise of the Queen of Caria. A drawing by Carron representing the Duc d’Alençon, her youngest son, on horseback is in the passage of the Tribune at Chantilly.

Pierre Gourdel, Dubois and Bussel, followers of François Clouet, are only known to us by mediocre engravings, but numerous drawings by the Brothers Lagneau have come down to us. These may be met with in the Louvre, in the portfolios at Chantilly and elsewhere. They suffer from an exaggerated taste for realism; and representations of old, wrinkled men and women seem to have been their favourite themes. A good example of their work is the portrait of an Old Man at Dijon, where, however, it is erroneously assigned to Daniel Dumoustier. This latter artist, on the contrary (according to his own statement), took particular pleasure in representing his sitters as younger and more beautiful than they really were. By him there are at Chantilly portraits of Louis XIII (in coloured chalk), of Albert de Gondi Archdeacon of Paris, of Henri Duc de Guise,[130] of the Princess Palatine (the devoted friend of the Grand Condé), and an interesting portrait of Henriette de France in her girlhood. Numerous other examples of his work are in the Louvre; and he is certainly the most important of the artists who followed François Clouet. In company with his sons Pierre and Nicolas{246} he carried on the art of pencil drawing in France from the sixteenth well into the seventeenth century. Saint-Simon speaks of him as a man who was fond of books and knew both Italian and Spanish. He lived in the Louvre, and throughout his lifetime retained his hold upon public taste.

There is yet one more artist-family to be mentioned: that of the Quesnels, who were held by the two first Bourbon Kings, Henri IV and Louis XIII, in the same high estimation as were the Clouets by the Valois. There are two portraits at Chantilly (Cabinet Clouet) which are attributed to François Quesnel: that of the Duc de Sully and of his brother Philippe de Bethune. These paintings markedly display the strong tendencies to realism so characteristic of the Brothers Quesnel.

Plate LXXI.

HENRI DE GUISE. Dumoustier. Musée Condé.

MARECHAL DE VIELVILLE. François Clouet. (Salting Collection). British Museum.

To face page 246.

Yet another French picture at Chantilly of the Clouet School has to be recorded, the authorship of which is uncertain. It represents Gabrielle d’Estrées, mistress of Henri IV, seated in her bath, with her infant sons (one being on the arm of his nurse) beside her. It is a composition which occurs frequently and seems to be rather meant for an allegory than for a portrait. Other versions of it are in the Louvre, at Doughty House Richmond, and in the Collections of Baron Pichon and the Viscomtesse de Zanzé. In this last example one of Gabrielle’s sisters is also introduced. She turns her back to the spectator, whilst Gabrielle herself—her bare neck adorned with a string of fine pearls—faces full{247} round. At the Musée Condé (Cabinet des Gemmes) there is a miniature representing Gabrielle d’Estrées and her two Children, which bears unmistakable likeness to this portrait. The late M. Gruyer in his Catalogue Raisonnée of the Musée Condé justly points out that this composition testifies to the decadent turn taken by the late sixteenth-century French School; and we sadly miss the good taste and the refinement which are such marked qualities in the portraiture of François Clouet.{248}

CHAPTER XVIII

FROM NICOLAS POUSSIN TO COROT

FRENCH seventeenth-century Art does not offer any such difficult problems as those presented to us by the portrait-painters who lived and laboured during the period of the Clouets, for the artists of this latter period in most cases were accustomed to sign their names to at least a certain number of their works, whereby they can be easily identified.

On the very threshold of this new Art-development we find the Brothers le Nain, who, choosing a totally different type of work, kept aloof from kings, princes and courtiers and devoted their attention chiefly to scenes of peasant life. Le Repos des Paysans at the Louvre is one of their best and most characteristic works. So also are La Forge and a portrait of Henry II de Montmorency, the last of his race, which ought to be at Chantilly. There is in the Cabinet Clouet at the Musée Condé a powerful portrait of Dr. Fagon, physician to Louis XIV, by Mathias le Nain. Chardin, who continued in their tradition a century later, is unfortunately not represented in the Musée Condé.{249}

Nicolas Poussin also adopted a style of his own, although it was of a different kind. He was greatly attracted by the antique and his heart was set on visiting Rome, whither, after long struggles in Paris, he at length found his way. There he received from the painter Domenichino the necessary training for the work which he desired to take up. The French sculptor Quesnoy befriended him, and the poet Marino introduced him to Cardinal Barberini, who commissioned from him two pictures: The Death of Germanicus and The Capture of Jerusalem. When fame came to him France reclaimed him. He was greatly favoured by Richelieu and entrusted with the decoration of the Louvre. He found, however, a rival in this enterprise in the person of Simon Vouet; and difficulties arose, because Poussin claimed his right to carry out the whole work independently and on his own responsibility. Finding that he could not attain this object, he returned to Rome under the pretext of fetching his wife and never returned. He lived thenceforth in Italy; for, like the Brothers le Nain, he had no desire to become a Court Painter. His pictures were, nevertheless, greatly admired in France during his lifetime; and there are no less than nine large canvases by him in the Galerie des Peintures at the Musée Condé, besides numerous drawings. Amongst these may be noted: The Infancy of Bacchus; Theseus finding his Father’s Sword (with a striking architectural background); and Numa Pompilius and the Nymph Egeria, a composition wherein{250} the artist displays to the full his skill in dealing with romantic landscape. A drawing of Daphne[131] flying to her father’s protection who transforms her into a laurel-bush, has special charm and shows those characteristics which he handed on to his brother-in-law and pupil Dughet, called after him “Gaspar Poussin.” There are two landscapes by the latter at Chantilly (Galerie des Peintures): An Alley in a Wood, and A View of the Roman Campagna, a subject of which he never tired. His sunsets foreshadow those of Claude Lorraine, who in his power of rendering atmospheric effect and the rays of the sun was only equalled by Turner some centuries later. The National Gallery and the Louvre possess some of Claude’s finest landscapes, while Chantilly has chiefly drawings, amongst which the most noteworthy are the Castello di S. Angelo and the Aqueducts of the Roman Campagna.[132]

Plate LXXII.

Photo. Giraudon.

DAPHNE METAMORPHOSED INTO A LAUREL TREE.
Musée Condé.

Nicolas Poussin.

Philippe de Champaigne, who came in his youth to France from Brussels, was a college friend of Poussin at Laon in 1623; and shares with him that same sense of freedom in his work. Poussin reached his goal in Rome through classical work, whilst Philippe de Champaigne devoted himself to portraiture, in which class of work he was most assiduous. His portraits of Cardinals Richelieu and{251} Mazarin in the Musée Condé came from the Gallery in the Palais-Royal and are magnificent examples of his methods.

Another portrait-painter who deserves mention here is Jacques Stella, who painted the Grand Condé as the Hero of Rocroy, at the age of twenty-two—a portrait which is singularly attractive and has a special historical interest. This painting, which was always highly prized by the Bourbon-Condé family, now hangs in the Galerie des Batailles.

Another portrait of the same personage, painted after he had reaped further laurels at Fribourg and at Nördlingen, is by Beaubrun, the same artist who painted his only sister Geneviève de Bourbon. Both these pictures are in the Cabinet Clouet.

A figure which stands out with some insistence amongst French artists of the seventeenth century is Charles Le Brun. He was first of all a pupil of Simon Vouet, but becoming acquainted with Nicolas Poussin and urged on by enthusiasm for his work, followed this master to Rome. Returning to Paris with an established reputation, he fell in with Colbert, who perceived in him the very person needed for the Gobelins Factory. Le Brun fully realised these expectations since he not only organised this great concern but subsequently, with the assistance of Van Meulen, furnished designs for a History of the Kings of France, which was presently reproduced in tapestry in those celebrated workshops. He was also the founder of the French Academy in Rome; and Louis XIV, who conferred{252} on him the office of Court Painter, took him to Flanders during the campaign of 1676. The portrait at Chantilly of Pomponne de Bellièvre, first President of the Parlement of Paris (engraved by Van Schuppen), represents his skill as a painter of portraits. His work can, however, be more profitably studied in the Galerie d’Apollon at the Louvre.

Eustache Le Sueur, another pupil of Simon Vouet, earned fame by his decorative work in the Hotel Lambert at Paris and by his Scenes from the Life of St. Bruno, now in the Louvre. He is represented at the Musée Condé by some fine drawings.

When Colbert was supplanted by Louvois another painter came to the front in the person of Mignard, also a pupil of Vouet. He studied in Rome, where he copied a number of paintings in the Farnese Gallery for the Cardinal of Lyons, Richelieu’s brother. He married the beautiful Anna Avolara, daughter of a Roman architect and model for his Madonnas, for which there was a great demand. No sooner had he acquired a certain amount of fame than the King of France commanded him to return home. On the way, however, he fell ill, and had to stop at Avignon. Here he first became acquainted with Molière; and the portrait which he painted of this great poet is beyond doubt his chef d’œuvre.[133] It occupies a prominent position in the Tribune at{253} Chantilly, where it commands much attention and admiration. The great esteem in which the author of Tartuffe was held by the Grand Condé is well known and it is by a singular piece of good fortune that the best of all the existing portraits of Molière should have found its way into the Musée Condé. If Mignard—and not without reason—is sometimes accused of superficiality, this complaint must surely be modified by the evidence of this portrait, which displays an artist of very considerable power.

There is at Chantilly another portrait by Mignard of special interest. It is that of Madame Henriette d’Angleterre, the beautiful and ill-fated daughter of Charles I, first wife of Philippe, Duc d’Orléans, the King’s brother. He also repeatedly painted likenesses of the young King himself, including one sent to Spain to be shown to his intended bride the Infanta Marie Thérèse.

At a maturer age Louis XIV was painted by Rigaud, a pupil of Le Brun. The portrait of him at Chantilly (Cabinet Clouet) is a smaller replica, signed by the painter himself, of the larger work executed in 1701 for his son, Philip V of Spain—a painting which was, however, kept back at Versailles and is now in the Louvre.

Hyacinthe Rigaud was considered a great portrait-painter and many personages of note gave him commissions. There is also a fine portrait at Chantilly by his younger contemporary and follower, Largillière, of Mademoiselle Duclos, a celebrated tragédienne who made her début at the Comédie{254} Française in 1683. She is here portrayed in the rôle of Ariane (Salle Caroline), and her sumptuous robes are painted with all the care and minuteness so characteristic of this artist. These qualities are again displayed in a portrait of the Princess Palatine, Charlotte Elizabeth, second wife of Philippe d’Orléans and mother of the Regent. In this portrait Largillière shows his highest talents, and had it not been for the fact that “Liselotte” (although already middle-aged) followed the taste of her time by permitting herself to be painted as a Naiad this would perhaps have been one of the most faithful likenesses of this interesting princess.

Plate LXXIII.

Photo Braun & Co.

LOUISE-HENRIETTE DE BOURBON CONTI. J. M. Nattier.

A FRIEND OF THE CONDÉS. Largillière.

Largillière resided for many years in England and studied for some time under Sir Peter Lely. On his return to Paris he was taken up by Charles Le Brun. His style belongs as much to the seventeenth as to the eighteenth century. Elegance and luxury, and a touch of serenity prevail in all his portraits. Mariette was greatly struck by his personal vigour and tells us that he went on working even up to his eighty-sixth year. Although too often over-exuberant he generally succeeded in imparting to his patrons great liveliness of aspect, and they live still, clad in their most sumptuous apparel. Such is the portrait of the elegant “Unknown”[134] at Chantilly, once in the Collection at the Palais Bourbon; from which circumstance we may suppose that the sitter was some intimate friend of the Condé family.{255}

By Jean Marc Nattier there is at Chantilly a life-size portrait of Mademoiselle Nantes, daughter of Louis XIV by Madame de Montespan, and wife of the Duc de Bourbon, grandson of the Grand Condé. Her daughter Louise Henriette, who married the Prince de Bourbon Conti, was also painted by Nattier[135]; and by the same artist—one of his best works—is the above-mentioned portrait of Charlotte Elizabeth Soubise,[136] the young wife of Louis Joseph, Prince de Condé, represented plucking carnations in the gardens at Chantilly.

Nattier’s portraits of the Royal Family of Bourbon, both in the Louvre and at Versailles, are very numerous. He painted every one of Louis XV’s daughters[137] and many other fair women, who, however, bear a strong general resemblance to one another, whereby his portraits are often rendered conventional and monotonous.

It is therefore rather refreshing to turn from Jean Nattier to Desportes and Oudry, who both stand on the threshold of the eighteenth century and who revived realistic landscape painting—an art which had practically lain dormant since the days of Pol de Limbourg; for Claude Lorraine and the Poussins had directed it into wholly diverse channels. Briados and Balthazar, two Spanish hounds formerly belonging to the House of Condé, are exquisitely painted by Desportes, who was highly{256} thought of by all lovers of the chase and was a constant guest at the hunting-parties held in the various French châteaux. A painting by him in the Louvre representing a Huntsman with his dog and bag of game standing in a fine landscape shows his skill at its very best.

Oudry’s compositions come very near those of Desportes: for example, his Chasse du Loup and Chasse du Renard at Chantilly, both of which are noted in the Inventory of the Palais Bourbon. Oudry was encouraged by Largillière to take up decoration also, which he did with conspicuous success. He was admitted into the Academy in 1699, and being appointed to the Directorship of the Tapestry Factory at Beauvais instilled new life into that interesting branch of art, which had sadly decayed under the direction of Charles Le Brun’s imitators. His graceful talent shows itself in certain exquisite designs from La Fontaine’s Fables executed in tapestry at this factory. His favourite abode was the forest around Chantilly; and there he spent much time in painting animals direct from nature. By insisting that his ideas should be accurately transcribed he trained the weavers at Beauvais with much care, thus preparing the way for Boucher, the decorative genius of the next generation. A splendid Gobelins tapestry, executed after a cartoon by Boucher, adorns one side of the Grand Staircase at Chantilly. It represents a young woman seated in a garden to whom a boy and girl are offering fruit and flowers. On the{257} opposite wall there is another tapestry from the workshop of Audran, executed after de Troy.

A copy in this collection (intended for the purposes of an engraving) by Boucher of a portrait of Watteau by himself is not devoid of interest; but it is in the Louvre, at Versailles, and above all in the Wallace Collection, rather than at Chantilly, that we derive a clear idea of Boucher’s light and graceful style. His Sunrise and Sunset on the staircase of Hertford House are considered to be among the finest of his creations. Madame de Pompadour, who was his enthusiastic patroness, frequently sat to him in a variety of attitudes; although his great talent was not portraiture, but decorative work, whereby he marks a decidedly new phase in French Art.

After an exceptionally long reign Louis XIV had at last passed away. He had asserted himself as strongly in Art as he had done in politics and it is worthy of note that, immediately after his death, artists were once more able to take their own independent courses. At this point, therefore, in the history of French Art we come upon a somewhat sudden change, visible also in the art of the cabinet-maker and the decorator. The later Bourbon Kings and Queens left their gorgeous salons and took refuge (with evident personal relief) in smaller and homelier chambers. These less imposing apartments, however, also required suitable decoration and serviceable furnishings: and it was here that Boucher{258} found his opportunity. The boudoir with its delicate colouring and elegant upholstery played a significant rôle under the reigns of Maria Leczinska and Marie Antoinette, and the petits appartements at Versailles became examples of a new style. Paintings on a smaller scale suitable for these graceful bonbonnières were soon in demand; and from these it was but a step to the taste of Watteau, who is perhaps the most typical artist of this period. Plaisir Pastoral, l’Amante Inquiète, and l’Amour Désarmé at Chantilly are fine examples of this artist’s work. Le Donneur des Sérénades in the Musée Condé, of which there is a similar composition at Buckingham Palace belongs to his later period, that is to say, to the last five years of his life. This work is said to represent Mezetin (one of the leading actors at the Comédie Italienne established at the Hôtel du Bourgogne) seated on a bench in a classic garden tuning his guitar. The Amante Inquiète, which forms a pendant to this picture, is of equal merit. Everything in these small paintings is refined and elegant, even to Nature herself—a style far more typical of Watteau, than the scenes of camp-life which mark his stay at Valenciennes in 1709. A study in red chalk of a Warrior, preserved in the Rotunda at Chantilly, recalls this period. In his sketches, of which a great number are in the Louvre, Watteau exhibits his talent as a draughtsman of the highest order and as a worthy pupil of Claude Gillot, the earliest creator of the style for which Watteau became so famous.{259} His relations with Crozat, the famous financier and collector, who was the first to recognise his genius, began in 1612, and it was in his palace that he had an opportunity of studying paintings by the great Venetian masters and landscapes by Rubens, both of which so decidedly influenced his subsequent style. There are exquisite pictures by him in the Louvre and in the Wallace Collection. His Ball under the Colonnade at Dulwich is very famous.

Plate LXXIV.

Photo. Giraudon.

JOSEPH AND POTIPHAR’S WIFE. By Prud’hon.

THE GUITARPLAYER. By Watteau.

Musée Condé.

To face page 25

Lancret was a younger contemporary of Watteau, and observing his success adopted his style; without, however, attaining to his eminence. His Déjeuner de Jambon in the Galerie des Peintures at Chantilly presents a company of merry-makers on the point of becoming riotous; and opposite to it hangs a companion picture by de Troy entitled Le Déjeuner d’Huîtres. The host in this latter composition—a figure dressed in scarlet—is probably a Prince of the House of Orleans presiding at a feast in the Palais Royal. Many of the guests represented are said to be personages well known in their day: for King Louis Philippe was still able to distinguish them by name. They are certainly enjoying their oysters and iced champagne; and the satisfaction of the well-fed is clearly exhibited in their features and gestures.

Together with this group of artists mention must be made of Christophe Huet, designer and decorator of the Grande Chinoiserie at Chantilly. These decorations in a style so much in vogue in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were once{260} attributed to Watteau, Gillot, Oudry, and others until an Account, dated 1741, was found in the Archives of Chantilly disclosing the name of Christophe Huet. They cover the panels of the so-called “Salon des Singes.” Scenes and episodes from the chase and the tea-party, architectural effects and other subjects, all are carried out in a pseudo-Chinese style. Apes clad in Condé uniforms and carrying flags act as outriders or grooms under the direction of grim-looking mandarins robed in gorgeous Oriental apparel. Besides the decorations here there is on the ground floor of the Château a “Petite Singerie” decorated in very much the same style: humorous scenes, wherein female monkeys are riding or occupied with their toilet. Jean Baptiste Huet, son of this Christophe, was also repeatedly commissioned by Prince Louis Joseph de Condé to paint pictures of his favourite animals.

The celebrated painter of pastels, Latour, is represented at Chantilly by a portrait of Madame Adelaide de France, daughter of Louis XV. His portraits, now recognised as even superior to those of Boucher and Lancret, are fine studies of character, but they are very rare. The pastel of the handsome Marie Fel, an opera-singer from Bordeaux by whom this artist was befriended, is very celebrated; and a group of portraits at St. Quentin place him in the foremost rank of French portrait-painters. His pre-eminent talents have been fully recognised by modern students of the French School.{261}

His contemporary, Peronneau—till recently known chiefly as an engraver of the works of Boucher, Van Loo, and others—is now known to be the artist who painted a charming Portrait of a Girl in the Louvre and other pastels. Rosalba Carriera’s great success in that medium is also well known. The young King Louis XV, the Regent, and many other important personages were painted by her, and in her time she put into the shade both Latour and Peronneau.

Duplessis brings us to the time of the Revolution, when ruin fell upon so many of the artists of that day. His portrait of the Duchesse de Chartres, mother of Louis Philippe and grandmother of the Duc d’Aumale, is at Chantilly. She is seated in a garden, lost in profound sorrow at the departure of her husband to a naval engagement, symbolised by a ship disappearing in the distance: a refined and graceful presentation of a charming woman capable of winning the hearts of all around her. The portraits of Louis XVI and of the Comte de Provence by this painter in the Musée Condé are considered to be among the best likenesses of the last Bourbon Kings. Duplessis held the post of Administrator of the Galleries at Versailles.

Greuze, like Watteau, marked out a special line of his own; and with him French bourgeois Art reappears once more. His domestic scenes were described by Diderot as follows: “Cet artist est le premier entre nous qui se soit avisé de donner{262} des murs dans l’art.” This remark applies to his Malédiction Paternelle, l’Accordée du Village, etc.

Plate LXXV.

Photo. Giraudon.

Young Girl.
By Greuze.
Musée Condé.

His charming Portrait of a Young Girl in a little cap at Chantilly represents Georgette, daughter of his concierge in Paris; and she can be recognised again in the same artist’s l’Accordée du Village in the Louvre, and perhaps also in the painting of a Young Girl winding Wool, lately added to Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s Collection. The pendant to Georgette in the Musée Condé is a portrait of a Young Boy, her brother. These two paintings, together with Le Tendre Desir, belong to the artist’s best period, whilst La Surprise is a work of his old age. This last work exhibits to us the curious fact that a problem which had steadily pursued him throughout his long life—namely, how to paint the first awakenings of love in a maiden’s mind—still puzzled him at the age of nearly eighty. It is certainly an irony of fate that after a romantic attachment to a young Italian Countess—whose portrait he painted, but whom he was prevented from marrying—he should have returned to Paris, to become the husband of a woman much older than himself, who presently made his life almost unendurable. It was perhaps the memory of this youthful idyll which induced him to paint so often those young maidens whose faces smile at us from the walls of so many Galleries throughout Europe. The Young Woman in a Hat in the Wallace Collection is perhaps the most fascinating of them all,{263} since nothing can surpass the grace and piquancy of expression in her lovely countenance.

Greuze was in high favour with the Royal Family, and it is believed that he painted a portrait of the Dauphin at the Tuileries after the unfortunate flight to Varennes, and another of his elder sister, Madame Royale, when in the Temple. The great upheaval of the Revolution struck Greuze also, and as a painter he became no longer the fashion. His wife squandered his fortune and he died in poverty, slaving to the very last.

The portraits at Chantilly of Marie Antoinette (in 1795) and of Madame de Pompadour, two of the loveliest women of their day, are by Drouais, a pupil of Van Loo and Boucher. The happy days of Trianon were not yet over when these were painted, and the Dauphine of France, presented here as Hebe, seems to be at the height of her glory and charms. How different to the careworn and haggard woman whose portrait hangs in the Musée Carnevalet over the very bed occupied by her in the Temple before her execution!

Madame Vigée Le Brun carried the style of Greuze, at one time her master, into the middle of the nineteenth century. She is represented in the Musée Condé (Cabinet Clouet) by several small portraits: Marie Caroline, Queen of Naples, painted in 1768, and her two daughters, Marie Thérèse Caroline, wife of Francis II Emperor of Austria, and Marie Louise Josephine, wife of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Whilst the first two of{264} these appear to be copies of already existing pictures the portrait of Marie Louise Josephine, Queen of Etruria, shows special merits and seems to be taken directly from life, probably during one of Madame Le Brun’s tours in Italy. A strong vitality is expressed in her beautiful face, forming a marked contrast to the portrait of her mother, the Queen of Naples. Madame Le Brun, who, in spite of her sex became a member of the French Academy, was one of Marie Antoinette’s favourite painters. After the Revolution she established herself in St. Petersburg and did not return to Paris until 1801, when she was enthusiastically welcomed. She painted many of the most celebrated beauties of her day, but all these portraits seem to bear the mark of a period then fast disappearing.

Louis Joseph de Bourbon, about 1787, commissioned Fragonard to paint small portraits of the Princes and Princesses of the Royal House[138] of Bourbon and the House of Bourbon Condé. Among these are portraits of the Dauphin Louis, son of Louis XVI, and of the Duc d’Enghien by whose tragic death the Condé family became extinct. Fragonard was a pupil of both Boucher and Chardin. He went to Italy with the Prix de Rome and in 1765 was elected a member of the Academy. He excelled in every style of painting—genre, landscape, portraits, interiors, and historical subjects. When in 1765 he exhibited his Callirhoé and Corésus (a subject taken from the poet Roy) Diderot and{265} Grimm thought for a moment that he might resuscitate the art of historical painting in France. This picture was bought by King Louis XV but was never paid for, and Fragonard returned to his portrait-painting, which he accomplished with very great brilliance and rapidity. There is a series of these portraits in the La Caze section of the Louvre, chiefly representing the actors and actresses of his day. His remarkable talent for decorative painting reveals itself in certain designs destined for Madame Du Barry’s pavilion, but stupidly condemned by her advisers. When the Revolution broke out, the artist fled to Grasse to escape imprisonment and the scaffold taking these paintings with him, and there completed the series by a fifth composition. The whole set are now in the collection of the late Mr. J. F. Pierpont Morgan.

Fragonard in some of his work rose to the level of Watteau and he certainly surpassed Boucher: but, like Greuze, he suffered the humiliation of seeing himself pass out of fashion, supplanted by the rising sun of Louis David.

It certainly is to be regretted that Fragonard was not also commissioned to paint the above-mentioned life-size portrait of Louis Joseph de Bourbon at the Musée Condé. This privilege was given to a Madame de Tott, an artist quite unknown in the history of Art. She was a contemporary of Bartolozzi, who engraved her picture, and thus handed down her name to posterity; for we read upon it, “Madame de Tott pinxit—Bartolozzi sculpsit.{266}”

Louis Petit, another indifferent painter of the same period, executed a portrait of the last Prince de Conti in hunting costume. This Prince left France with his Orleans cousins during the Revolution and died in Spain. To the same artist is attributed the portrait of Louis Henri de Bourbon, Duc d’Enghien. He has an interesting face, recalling that of his ancestor the Great Condé, but there is a touch of melancholy in his expression, telling of adversity endured and apparently foreshadowing his tragic death. His father, the last Prince de Condé, who during the French Revolution lived chiefly in England, was painted by Danloux, a Frenchman who had also sought shelter on the hospitable shores of Great Britain. This Prince is here represented as leader of the Condé forces, that is, of the French émigrés; and we can detect the influence of Reynolds and Gainsborough in the light, harmonious colouring of the composition, which was bought by the Duc d’Aumale from a descendant of Robert Claridge, in whose house the last Condé lived during his exile.

By Charles Vernet, son of the celebrated marine painter Joseph Vernet, there is at Chantilly a large landscape with a hunting scene. It was painted during the Directoire, and Philippe Egalité and his son the Duc de Chartres (afterwards Louis Philippe) may be distinguished in the foreground. Charles Vernet delighted in depicting horses and scenes of sport, a style rendered even more famous by his son Horace Vernet. There are no{267} less than four pictures by the latter in the Musée Condé: The Duc d’Orleans (Louis Philippe) asking for hospitality from the Monks of St. Bernard; a portrait of Louis Philippe, while still Duc d’Orléans; Le Parlementaire et le Medjeles, in which the various Algerian types are represented in glowing colours; and Louis Philippe entering the gates of Versailles attended by his sons. This latter is a reduced copy by Perrault of the large original at Versailles, painted to commemorate the occasion when Louis Philippe handed over the Palace of Versailles, with all its treasures of art and historical reminiscences, to the French Nation as a Public Museum.

We now come to an artist whose place is upon the threshold of the nineteenth century—namely, Pierre Prudhon. A sketch of a Venus at Chantilly is a study for the picture Venus and Adonis, which made his name at the Salon of 1812. Most fascinating are Le Sommeil de Psyché, Homage à Beauté, and a sketch[139] of Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife: elegant and graceful creations recalling the style of Greuze; who in point of fact admired his work greatly, and said of him, “This man will go farther than I have done.” David and his set contemptuously designated him as the “Boucher of to-day”; but Napoleon commissioned him to paint portraits of both his Empresses, Josephine and Marie Louise, and conferred upon him the Cross of the Legion of Honour.

For his own portrait the Emperor chose his{268} official painter, Gérard, who was at that time considered so great an exponent of this branch of art that he was styled “the painter of kings” and “the king of painters.” Napoleon is represented by him as First Consul; and the expressive eyes, the mouth displaying power to command and the broad forehead partially concealed by a mass of hair, recall the great Roman whom he emulated and with whom he loved to be compared. The painter, no doubt, purposely accentuated in this portrait such facial resemblances as he was able. This commission was executed at the Tuileries in 1803.

At the Fall of the Empire Gérard was presented by Talleyrand to Louis XVIII; and later still in 1820 Louis Philippe commissioned him to paint a portrait of the Duchesse d’Orléans (afterwards Queen Marie Amélie) in a white robe adorned with pearls. This painting was highly treasured by the Duc d’Aumale, who out of filial affection hung it above his bed, where it still remains.

Another portrait by Ary Scheffer of the same royal lady as a widow is also here. This was painted at Claremont during the exile of the Orleans family; and by the same artist is a portrait of the Duc d’Orléans, Louis Philippe’s eldest son, who met with an untimely end in a carriage accident. But Ary Scheffer’s chef d’œuvre at Chantilly is a portrait of Talleyrand, the most renowned and brilliant man of the Revolution,—a painting bequeathed to the Duc d’Aumale by his friend Lord Holland.{269}

Ary Scheffer’s greatest pupil was Puvis de Chavannes, who far surpassed his master in the art of exquisite line—a characteristic especially noticeable in his painting of Ste. Geneviève in the Pantheon, where he shows us the Patron Saint of Paris watching over her beloved city; and again in another painting of St. Mary Magdalen at Frankfort. This artist is unfortunately not represented at Chantilly; nor is Jacques Louis David, whose vast canvases, the Sacre et l’Intronisation de l’Empereur and La Distribution des Aigles, are so conspicuous in the Louvre. In spite of the comments of Diderot—who very wisely pointed out that the chief aim of the ancients was to reproduce Nature and that those who merely copied archaic painters were doing just the reverse of those whom they were trying to imitate,—public taste followed David and discarded their former favourites, Greuze and Watteau.

Ingres, David’s pupil, is represented at Chantilly by some of his finest work. There is in the first place His Own Portrait painted at the age of twenty-four—a fine work, grand in its very simplicity—which Prince Napoleon always desired to possess and which the artist could hardly refuse to present to him. It passed thence into the possession of Reiset in 1868 and eventually in 1879 became the property of the Duc d’Aumale.

A most impressive picture is Stratonice (Tribune), painted for the Duc d’Orléans, who desired it as a pendant for Delaroche’s Assassination of the{270} Duc de Guise. It was painted at the Villa Medici in Rome, where it aroused great enthusiasm. His princely patron generously gave him 63,000 francs for it, which was double the price agreed upon.

Another greatly admired composition by him at Chantilly is a Venus Anadyomène, which bears close affinity to the famous La Source in the Louvre.

The genius of Paul Delaroche brings us into the nineteenth century. His style has been characterised as the juste milieu; for he neither affected the manner of the Neo-Classics nor did he lean too much toward the Romantics. Never was a cowardly and dastardly murder better depicted than in his treatment of the Assassination of Henri, Duc de Guise. The King, Henri III, pale and trembling, emerges from behind a curtain to gaze upon his slaughtered victim, whilst the hired assassins gloat over their ghastly deed. This picture, which hangs in the Tribune, was painted by Delaroche specially for the Duc d’Orléans.

We now come to Eugène Delacroix, who, in company with Gericault, is considered as the pioneer of Romanticism. His Capture of Constantinople by the Crusaders at Chantilly is a vividly composed representation of this important event. The Two Foscari (Tribune) depicts one of the greatest tragedies in Venetian history. The Doge Francesco Foscari is shown to us sitting in judgment upon his own son, whom he is condemning to torture{271} and banishment as a traitor to his country. The anguish of the son and the stern despair of the old father are suggested with wonderful skill. Delacroix’s greatest efforts were, however, directed against the paralysing influences of Academism; and his paintings in the Palais Bourbon and in the Galerie d’Apollon in the Louvre prove him to have been the finest colourist of the later French School.

Another artist of the Romantic School is Descamps, who is represented at Chantilly by no less than ten paintings and several water-colours. Amongst these a Turkish Landscape, painted during the artist’s early period, is perhaps the most attractive. On one side of the picture all is mystery and darkness, whilst upon the other fall the rays of a golden sunset. The problems of light and shade, to which he devoted himself so earnestly up to the very end of his career, are here treated with great effect. The same idea pervades his painting of Turkish Guards on their way from Smyrna to Magnesia. A town with minarets is to be seen in the background; a dark blue sky flecked with luminous white clouds; camels and their riders; all breathing that dreamy oriental sensation which appealed to him so strongly, and which he was never weary of reproducing.

Eugène Fromentin, who was as celebrated as a writer as he was as a painter, is represented in the Musée Condé by one of his finest landscapes. Transported to the Marshes of Medeah, a country so well described by him in his book Un Éte{272} dans le Sahara, we see in the foreground three Bedouin chiefs, mounted on splendid Arab steeds, engaged in hawking. The atmosphere is transparent and clear, refreshed as it were by a recent shower, and the sky is flecked by white clouds. This artist, who died in 1876, was one of the most accomplished men of his time.

By his contemporary Meissonier there are several paintings at Chantilly; the most important being Les Cuirassiers de 1805 avant le Combat. The moment is just before a projected attack; and the look of strained expectation upon the faces of the combatants is admirably expressed. Napoleon, surrounded by his staff, is easily recognised; and in the varying expressions of the long line of horsemen we perceive looks of determination to win or die. The reproach made by Mauclair to Meissonier that his style suffered from lack of originality and was copied from Dutch artists, if sometimes well founded, may at any rate be questioned by this picture. His La Vedette des Dragons sous Louis XV, though small in dimensions, is another important historical picture, whilst Les Amateurs des Tableaux recalls a similar composition in the Wallace Collection.

Plate LXXVI.

Photo. Giraudon.

ARAB CHIEFS HAWKING IN THE DESERT.
Musée Condé.

Eugène Fromentin.

Meissonier’s best pupil was Jean Baptiste Detaille, the famous painter of battle-pieces. There is a picture of his at Chantilly entitled Les Grenadiers à cheval à Eylau,[140] where a gallant French officer with the cry “Haut les Têtes” leads his regiment on{273} to victory. This is one of the chef d’œuvres of this artist, whose recent death is so much to be deplored.

Of quite a different nature are the allegorical paintings of P. J. Aimé Baudry. The excellence of this master lies principally in decoration, as may be seen by his Vision of St. Hubert in the Galerie des Cerfs; and he may be considered one of the most talented of the French artists who flourished during the second half of the nineteenth century.

Winterhalter, who, although a native of Baden, acquired his artistic education in Paris and Rome, was one of the Court Painters to both Louis Philippe and Napoleon III. His portrait of the Duc d’Aumale at the age of eighteen, as Commander of his regiment before his victorious campaign in Algiers, is at Chantilly; and there is here also a companion portrait of the Duchesse as a young bride. She is clad in white, with a single rose in her fair hair, and her face is full of refinement and delicacy.

Landscape-painting in France at the beginning of the nineteenth century had undeniably become conventional and tame; but quite suddenly this stagnant condition came to an end, and a revolution set in, caused by the exhibition of Constable’s paintings The Hay Wain and A View near London in the Paris Salon of 1827. These pictures, purchased and exhibited in Paris by a French connoisseur, created intense interest in the{274} French World of Art; and it is alleged that they were the immediate cause whereat French artists suddenly emerged from the studios wherein they had lingered so long and proceeding to the woods of Fontainebleau, began working from Nature herself. They awoke to recognise their own defects, already denounced by Chateaubriand, who had declared that French landscape-painters ignored Nature.

Throughout the studios French artists warmly discussed the work of Constable, upon whom Charles X, at their special desire, conferred the Médaille d’Or; and it was suggested that the Charette (The Hay Wain, now in the National Gallery) should be acquired by the French Nation.

S. W. Reynolds, Constable’s friend and pupil, whose exquisite little picture of the Pont de Sèvres hangs in the Tribune at Chantilly, at this time also removed to Paris in order to satisfy the general demand for engravings of his master’s works.

But if the Barbizon School owed much to Constable, it is also certain that Constable and Wilson owed an equal debt to Claude Lorraine; and Turner perhaps even more so.

By Corot there is but one painting at Chantilly, but it is one of his finest works. Everything in this picture breathes a spirit of peace and joy; the sky, the earth and the graceful young women—one of whom is playing a viola and another singing, whilst their companions listen or are plucking fruit—give a cheerful note to this vision of content.{275}

Plate LXXVII.

Photo. Giraudon.

THE GRENADIERS AT EYLAU.

Détaille.

It is styled Le Concert Champêtre[141] and recalls his series of paintings entitled Souvenir d’Italie. Corot appears to have commenced his studies in the woods at Fontainebleau even before Millet, Rousseau and Diaz, so that he may fairly be styled the doyen of the now famous Barbizon School.

By his pupil A. P. C. Anastasi there are several landscapes at the Musée Condé, one of which represents Amsterdam at Eventide.

That Millet is absent from this collection is much to be regretted; but by Theodore Rousseau there are several landscapes, small in point of size, but nevertheless exhibiting this artist at his best; as for example, Le Crépuscule en Sologne and Fermes en Normandie. Ary Scheffer was the first artist to understand and befriend Rousseau when he started away on lines of his own, and it was through the kind offices of this painter that one of his first pictures was bought by the Duc d’Orléans. His landscapes in Auvergne are early works; and those painted at Barbizon—such as the pictures above named—are later and more finished achievements.

Dupré, by whom there are three early works, Port St. Nicholas, Paris and Le Soleil Couchant, accompanied Rousseau in 1841 to the neighbourhood of Monsoult, where they were frequently visited by Barye, Corot, and Daubigny. There is at Chantilly by this last artist a sketch of the Château de St. Cloud, a charming record of a spot full of memories, now no more. By Diaz de la Pena, the{276} last of this group of painters, there is a wreath of flowers and birds painted in vivid colours upon the ceiling in the boudoir of the Petit Château once used by the Duchesse d’Aumale; and by Ziem (known as the “Painter of Venice”) there is a landscape, Les Eaux Douces d’Asie, a subject magnificently treated by Diaz in a composition now in the Wallace Collection. Monticelli, Diaz’s greatest pupil, the leading painter of the Second Empire and a great admirer of the Empress Eugenie, is unfortunately not represented here; nor are there any examples of the early French Impressionists. For here the Hand of Death intervened.

Plate LXXVIII.

Photo. Giraudon.

“Concert Champêtre.”
By Corot.
Musée Condé.

With Léon Bonnat’s fine portrait of the Duc d’Aumale our description of the paintings at Chantilly comes to an end; but attention should yet be drawn to various pieces of sculpture exhibited in the apartments of the Château, on the terraces, in the gardens and in the Park. A fine figure of Jeanne d’Arc by Chapu is in the Rotunda, whilst a group of Pluto and Proserpine plucking daffodils by the same sculptor is on the Great Terrace. Here also is the equestrian statue of the Grand Montmorency by Dubois; and not far from it a life-size figure of the Grand Condé by Coysevox, surrounded by busts of Bossuet, La Bruyère, Molière and Le Nôtre. Copies in marble from the antique and the renaissance adorn the niches and plinths of the mansion and the avenues of the Park. A figure of St. Louis by Marqueste{277} surmounts the roof of the Chapel and Jean Goujon’s reliefs ornament the Altar within. The famous portrait in wax of Henri IV is in the Galerie de Psyché; and busts in marble of the Grand Condé and of Turenne by Derbais, of Richelieu and of the last Princes of the House of Bourbon-Condé, are placed in the Cabinet des Livres and in various other rooms. Fine bronzes by Barye, Mène, Fremiet and Cain, adorn the mantel-pieces and consoles; whilst some exquisite enamel portraits by Limousin are exhibited in the Salle des Gardes.

Most interesting, and worthy of more than a passing notice, is the collection of Chantilly Porcelain, an industry founded in 1730 by the Duc de Bourbon. A set of porcelain made at that time was placed in the King’s Bedroom.[142]

In the centre of the Galerie des Peintures stands a fine bust of the Duc d’Aumale by Dubois, and in the Marble Hall lies his recumbent figure in full uniform by the same artist, a cast[143] of the marble figure upon his tomb in the Cathedral at Dreux.

And so with the death of the man his work came to a close. But his genius as a collector has furnished France with one of the finest Homes of Art in the World; and she does well to remember with gratitude this scion of the Bourbon race, who stretched out his hand to expiate much.{278} Every lover of Art throughout the world, and every wayfarer who in his wanderings finds his way to Chantilly, may well stand amazed at this collection and praise its creator. Nor in passing out should he fail to give a last glance at the silent effigy: a glance in which gratitude should be mingled with that emotion which ever holds the thoughtful spectator of departed greatness.{279}

Plate LXXIX.

TOMB OF THE DUC D’AUMALE.
In the Cathedral at Dreux. Cast at Chantilly.

Paul Dubois.

INDEX

A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, Y, Z

Abdul Kader, Duc d’Aumale’s victory over, 117
Accordée du Village, Le, by Greuze, 262
Adoration of the Magi, by Jean Fouquet, 190, 191
Ahasuerus. See King
Ailly, Heures de. See Books of Hours
Aix-la-Chapelle, Peace of, 79
Albano, a work by, 132
Albret, Duc de. See Condé, fifth Prince de
Albret, Henri de, King of Navarre, portraits of, 136, 141, 223
Albret, Jeanne de, Queen of Navarre, marriage, 16;
a Protestant, 17;
helps the Huguenots, 21;
sudden death, 22, 243;
portraits of, 22, 141, 224, 225, 226, 230, 235
Aldine editions in the Standish Library, 129
Alençon, Duc de, portraits of, 141, 182, 245
Alençon, Mme. Vendôme de, portraits of, 222, 223, 239
Alençon, Mlle. de, and Duc d’Enghien, 69
Alexandra, Queen, visits Chantilly, 122
Alley in the Wood, An, by Dughet, 250
Allori, Alexander. See Bronzino
All Saints’ Day, by Fouquet, 194
Amante Inquiète, by Watteau, 258
Amateurs des Tableaux, Les, by Meissonier, in the Wallace Collection, 272
Amazon of the Vatican, a statuette, 137
Amboise, Cardinal George de, owner of Valere Maxime, 158
Ambrogio di Spinola, Marchese. See Spinola
Amélie, Queen, and the Duc d’Aumale’s marriage, 117
“Amico di Sandro,” 149
Amour Désarmé, Le, by Watteau, 258
Amphitryon, poem by Molière, 75
Amsterdam at Eventide, by Anastasi, 275
Anastasi, A. P. C., 275
Angelic Choir, miniature by Simon Marmion, 197
Angers, disaster of, 25
Angleterre, Mme. Henriette de, portrait of, 253
Angoulême, Duc de. See Francis I
Angoulême, Duchesse de (formerly Diane de France), marriage, 9;
portrait of, 151
Angoulême, Marguerite (sister of Francis I), portraits of, 141, 216, 228;
manuscript of, 158
Anjou, Duc de. See Henri III
Anjou, Louis II of, King of Sicily, portrait of, 201
Anne of Austria, character, 40;
and the Grand Condé, 44, 45, 47, 55, 56, 64;
and Princesse de Condé, 52, 54
Anne of Bavaria, marriage of, 69
Anne de Bretagne (wife of Louis XII), miniature of, 138;
Prayer Book of, 198;
portrait of, 208;
Tournois tapestry, 208, 209;
medal of, 210;
her daughter’s marriage, 216{280}
Annunciation, by Francia, 145;
by the Limbourgs, 173;
by Jean Fouquet, 184, 189, 193
Antioch, Jean de, translates Cicero’s Rhetorics, 157
Antiochus and Stratonice, The Story of, by Ingres, 135
Antiquitates Judæorum of Josephus, miniatures by Jean Fouquet, 155, 181, 182, 185, 189, 200
Arab Chiefs Hawking in the Desert, by Fromentin, 272
Architecture, Treatise on, by Filarete, 180
Ariane. See Duclos Mille.
Aristotle’s Ethics, 157
Armagnac, Comte de, war with Duc de Bourbon, 162
Arsenal MS., 159 n.
Artemisia, History of, 244
Artois, Duc de (afterwards Charles X), marriage, 101, 102;
leaves France, 104;
at Coblenz, 109, 110
Ascension, The, by Jean Fouquet, 192
Ashmolean Collection at Oxford, 241
Assassination of the Duc de Guise, The, by Delaroche, 134, 269, 270
Athena of Lemnos, famous bronze, 136
Aumale, Duc de (Henri d’Orléans), Lord of Chantilly: Histoire des Princes de Condé, 38, 40, 74, 132;
military success in Algiers, and marriage, 117;
birth of a son, 118;
an exile in England and return to Chantilly, 119-123;
his scheme to bestow Chantilly on the French nation, 122-124;
his second banishment, 124;
return and welcome back to Chantilly, 124, 125;
equestrian statue of, 125;
portraits of, 126, 137, 177 n., 220, 273, 276, 277;
collects the art treasures of the Musée Condé, 129-153;
Victor Hugo’s letter, 147;
on Raphael’s Three Graces, 149;
French illuminated manuscripts at Chantilly, 154-164;
the Cabinet des Livres, 156;
Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, 165-178;
works of Jean Fouquet, 179-195;
Jean Perréal, Bourdichon, and others, 196-210;
Jean Clouet, 211-226;
François Clouet, 225-247;
from Nicholas Poussin to Corot, 248 et seq.;
tomb of, 278
Aumont, Duc de, portrait by Quesnel, 142
Auneau, Victory of, 26
Austria, Elizabeth of, portrait of, 234, 235;
miniature of, 243
Austria, Margaret of, and the Très Riches Heures, 162, 163;
and Jean Fouquet, 181;
and Jean Perréal, 209
Autumn, by Botticelli, 145
Avant et après le Combat, by Protais, 135
Averoldi family, Ecce Homo purchased from, 135
Ayr Collection, portrait of Prince Orlant, 198

Bacchus and Ariadne, antique sarcophagus, 137
Baccio del Bene, Italian author, 220
Ball under the Colonnade, by Watteau, 259
Balthazar, a Spanish hound, by Desportes, 255
Bandol, Johannes, painter, 200
Barbançon, Princesse de, by Van Dyck, 132
Barberini, Cardinal, and Quesnoy the sculptor, 249
Barbizon school, 274, 275
Bardon, M., painter, 8{281}
Baroccio, Federigo, painter, 132
Bartolozzi, Louis Joseph de Bourbon, 265
Barye, bronzes by, 277
Bassompère, Maréchal de, his marriage, 11
Battave, Godfrey le, his work, 204
Baudrey, P. J. Aimé, allegorical painter, 273
Bavaria, Marie Anne of, portrait of, 138
Béarn, Henri de, and the Protestants, 21
Beaubrun, his portraits of Comte de Cossé Brissac, Mme. and Mlle. de Longueville, 12, 133;
the Grand Condé, 251
Beaujeu, Anne de, and Jean Perréal, 207 n.
Beaujeu, Pierre de, 183
Beauneveu, André, a Book of Hours, 177 n.;
Antiquitates Judæorum, 182
Bellay, Du, poet, and Marguerite de France, 220, 221
Belles Heures de Jean de Berry. See Book of Hours
Bellièvre, Pomponne de, portrait of, 252
Benedict XIV, Pope, portrait by Subleyras, 142
Berenson, Bernard, A Sienese Painter of the Franciscan Legend, 145 n.
Berghe, Comte de, portrait by Van Dyck, 132
Bernal Sale, 133, 134
Berry, Duc de, Les Très Riches Heures, 130, 160, 161, 165 et seq.;
his illuminated manuscripts, 157;
portrait of, 201
Berry, Duchesse de, at Chantilly, 91
Bersuire, Pierre, translator of Livy’s Second Decade, 157
Bethune album, 241
Bethune, Philippe de, portrait by François Quesnel, 246
Betrayal, by Jean Fouquet, 191
Bible Historiée, 200
Bible Moralisée, 179
Birth of St. John the Baptist, by Jean Fouquet, 188, 190
Bissolo, Madonna holding the Infant Christ, 145
Boccaccio at Munich, 181, 182, 185
Bodleian Library (Oxford), 151
Boileau, N., celebrated French poet, a guest at Chantilly, 75
Boissy, Gouffier de, Battle of Marignan, 6
Boisy, Le Grand Ecuyer de, portrait of, 244
Bonheur, Rosa, A Shepherd in the Pyrenees, 135
Bonnat, Léon, portrait of Duc d’Aumale, 126, 276
Bonnivet, Gouffier de, Battle of Marignan, 6
Book of Hours:
(1) of fourteenth century, owned by François de Guise, 150
(2) of Anne de Beaujeu, 198 n.
(3) of Anne de Montmorency, 158
(4) of Catherine de Medicis, 215
(5) of Étienne Chevalier, miniatures by Jean Fouquet, 152, 181
(6) belonging to Maurice de Rothschild, 160
(7) Belles Heures de Jean de Berry, also called Heures d’Ailly, by Limbourg brothers, 179, 184, 185
(8) Heures d’Anjou, 200
(9) Heures d’Aragon, by Bourdichon, 198
(10) Livres d’Heures, 202
(11) Très Belles Heures, or Hours of Turin, by Hesdin, 165, 177 n.{282}
Book of Hours—Cont.
(12) Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, by the Limbourg brothers, 130, 152, 154, 156, 158, 160, 162, 164 et seq.
Bora, Catherine de, portrait by Pourbus, 142
Bordeaux, Claire-Clemence at, 52, 53;
as a Republic, 59, 60;
surrenders to the King, 62
Bossuet, Jacq., the famous Prelate, at Chantilly, 83;
and the Grand Condé, 86-88;
statue of, 89;
on Fouquet’s Enthronement of the Virgin, 194;
bust of, 276
Botticelli, Sandro, Autumn, 145;
Simonetta Vespucci, 146;
other drawings, 147
Boucault, Jeanne, wife of Jean Clouet, 211, 224;
portrait of, 222
Boucher, François, French painter, Watteau, 143, 257;
cartoon by, 256
Bouchot, Henri, 199, 204, 208, 235
Bouillon, Duchesse, joins the Fronde, 45;
portrait of, 242
Bourbon, Anne Marie de, death of, 92
Bourbon, Antoine de (afterwards King of Navarre);
portraits of, 16, 136;
and the Guises, 18, 20
Bourbon, Caroline Auguste de, marriage to the Duc d’Aumale, 117
Bourbon, Charles de, the famous Constable, death, 16
Bourbon, Duc de. See Bourbon, Louis Henry Joseph;
Condé, sixth, seventh, and eighth Princes de
Bourbon, Geneviève. See Longueville, Mme. de
Bourbon, Henri I de. See Condé, second Prince de
Bourbon, Henri II de. See Condé, third Prince de
Bourbon, Henri de, King of Navarre. See Henri IV
Bourbon, Henri Jules de. See Condé, fifth Prince de
Bourbon, Jacob de, 16
Bourbon, Louis I de. See Condé, first Prince de
Bourbon, Louis II de. See Condé, fourth Prince de
Bourbon, Louis Henry Joseph de (Duc d’Enghien, son of eighth Prince de Condé, known as Duc de Bourbon, last of the Condés), birth, 96;
early marriage, 97;
at Chantilly, 98, 99;
separated from his wife, 100;
leaves France, 104, 105;
return to Chantilly, 111;
death of his father, 113;
reconciliation with and death of his wife, 113;
and his godson, 114;
death, 114, 115;
portraits of, 114, 266
Bourbon, Louis Joseph de. See Condé, eighth Prince de
Bourdelot, Jean, and the Grand Condé, 84
Bourdichon, a follower of Jean Fouquet, 197, 207;
his works, 198, 199
Bourdillon, Lescueur, portrait of, 203
Bourgogne, Antoine de, the Grand Bâtard, portraits of, 62, 142
Bouts, Dierick, Procession, 146
Braganza, Duc de (afterwards King of Portugal), betrothal, 124;
assassination, 124 n.
Brandenburg, William, Margrave of, guards the Rhine, 82
Brantôme, P. de: Diane de France, 9;
Louis de Bourbon, 19;
Duc d’Anjou, 24 n.;
the Dauphin, 217;
Diane de Poitiers, 231;
Henri de Mesmes, 242
“Brasseu,” daughter of Diane de Poitiers, a member of la petite band, 228;
portrait of, 239
Brentano, Herr, purchase and sale{283}
of forty miniatures by Jean Fouquet, 152, 186
Bretagne, Anne de. See Anne de Bretagne
Bretagne, François, the Duke of, tomb of, 42, 209
Breviary, fourteenth century, 150, 151;
of Belleville, 160;
Grimani, sixteenth century, 162, 163, 168
Brézé, Maréchal de, 35
Briados, a Spanish hound, by Desportes, 255
Bridgewater Madonna, 140
Brignole, Marie Catherine de, the widowed Princess of Monaco, marries eighth Prince de Condé, 109
Brissac, Maréchal, portrait of, 238, 239
British Museum, the Gallic War, 157;
Book of Hours, 186;
Salting Collection, 230, 231, 242
Bronzes, 136, 277
Bronzino, Le (Alexander Allori), painter, 132
Broussel, Councillor, and Cardinal Mazarin, 44, 45
Bruges, Jean de, 200 n.
Bruisbal, Scipion, 240
Brun, Charles Le, Court-painter to Louis XIV, 84;
and the Gobelin Factory, 251, 252
Brun, Mme. Vigée Le, her works, 137, 263, 264
Bruyère, La, educates the Condés, 85;
and Mme. de Langeron, 87;
bust of, 276
Budos, Louis de, death of, 9
Buffant, Jean, once possessor of Breviary Grimani, 163
Bugato, Zanetta, 148
Bugenhagen, Jean de, portrait of, 142
Bullant, Jean, architect, 6, 240;
altar of Senlis marble, 123
Bussel, a follower of François Clouet, 245
Buti, Catherine, in La Toussaint, 194

Cabinet des Livres at Chantilly, 156
Cabotière, La, 32
Cæsar’s Commentaries, 157
Cain, bronzes, 277
Calendar of months in Book of Hours, 152, 154, 156, 158, 160, 162, 164, 166 et seq., 178
Callirhoé and Corésus, by Fragonard, 264
Canaletto, Antonio, 147
Canaples, Mme. de, portrait of, 244
Canaples, Sieur de, portraits of, 223
Cantillius, a Gallo-Roman, origin of name Chantilly, 3
Capture of Constantinople by the Crusaders, by Delacroix, 270
Capture of Jerusalem, by Poussin, 249
Carlisle, Lord, his collection of French drawings, 151
Carmontelle, M., collection of, 143, 144;
portrait of, 144
Carracci, Annibale, paintings in Musée Condé, 84, 132, 135
Carriera, Rosalba, 261
Carron, M., his designs from the History of Artemisia, 244
Castello di S. Angelo, by Claude, 250
Cellini, Benvenuto, Apollo guiding the Chariot of the Sun, 141;
Life of, by R. H. Cust, 222 n.
Champaigne, Philippe de, portraits of Mazarin and Richelieu, 134;
his work, 250
Champion, Jean, 212
Chandus, portrait of, 223
Chantilly, Château of (see also Musée Condé), owners of, 1 et seq.;
origin of name, 3;
the Montmorencys, 3-15;
improvements and restorations, 5, 66 et seq., 89, 90, 92, 118, 119, 121;
windows, 5, 8;{284}
pictures of, 6, 50;
the Petit-Château, 7;
its beauty, 9, 10;
and the Condés, 16 et seq.;
confiscation and restoration of, 32, 106, 109, 111, 112, 119, 121, 124, 125;
the Grand Condé, 33-46;
portraits, 42, 50;
return of Prince and Princesse de Condé, 56;
festivities at, 69-77, 90-92, 97, 99;
illustrious visitors, 83, 90, 92, 97-99, 118, 121-123;
famous waterworks at, 84;
pictures, 84;
used as a prison, 106, 108;
during the French Revolution, 106 et seq.;
races at, 116;
Duc d’Aumale, Lord of Chantilly, 116 et seq.;
Musée Condé erected, 122, 123;
bequeathed to the nation, 124, 125;
Grand Chinoiserie, 259
Chapeau-Rouge party, 61
Chapu, Jeanne d’Arc, 276
Chariot of the Sun, 167
Charlemagne, Coronation of, 182
Charles IV of Germany, portrait of, 201 n.
Charles V of France, portraits of, 142, 200;
his Inventory, 159;
imprisons the two Dauphins, 217
Charles VII, portraits by Fouquet, 181, 182, 185, 186, 191
Charles VIII, by Perréal, 203, 208
Charles IX and Prince de Condé, 23;
death, 24;
portraits by François Clouet, 141, 229, 230, 231, 244
Charles X confers the Médaille d’Or on Constable, 274
Charlotte, Elizabeth. See Princess Palatine
Charolais, Count de, at Chantilly, 95, 96
Charonton, Enguerrand, works by, 42, 146, 176, 193
Charost, by Quesnel, 142
Chartres, Duc de (afterwards Louis Philippe), portrait by Charles Vernet, 266
Chartres, Duchesse de, portrait by Duplessis, 261
Chasse au Faucon en Algérie, La, by Fromentin, 139
Chasse du Loup and du Renard, by Oudry, 256
Château de St. Cloud, by Daubigny, 275
Chateaubriand, Monsieur de, 239
Châteauroux, Castle of, Claire-Clemence exiled to, 73
Châtillon, Mme. de, 50
Chaudin, capitaine de la porte du Roy, 239
Chavannes, Puvis de, his works, 269
Chavignard, Lechevallier, cartoon by, 123
Chess. See Game of
Chevalier, Étienne, Book of Hours, executed for, 152, 184;
portraits of, 180, 181, 182, 185, 187, 189, 194
Chevreuse, Duchesse de, 55
Chiaroscuro, introduction of, 177, 192
Chigi, Prince, collection of, 150
Children of Israel led into Captivity by King Shalmaneser, 184
Chinon, Château de, 191
Christ, Life of, scenes from, 173
Christ on the Cross, miniature, 139
Christina of Denmark, Queen, at Chantilly, 123
Christina of Sweden, Queen, and Claire-Clemence, 54
Chronique de France, 181, 182
Cicero’s Rhetorics, 157
Cigongue, Armand, collection of, 130
Cité de Dieu, 157
Claire-Clemence (wife of the Grand Condé), early marriage and excellent qualities of, 34;
retires to a convent, 35;
with her son at Chantilly, 41;
sudden departure, 45;
her husband’s imprisonment, 49;{285}
her escape, 51;
at Bordeaux, 52, 53, 59, 60;
obtains her husband’s freedom, 54, 55;
entry into Paris, 56;
retirement to Saint-Maur, 57;
birth of second son, 61;
retires to Flanders, 62;
return to France, 64, 75;
and her son’s marriage, 69;
ill-health, 70;
and the page Duval, 71;
her husband’s ill-treatment, 71, 72;
exile and death, 73, 74
Claridge, Robert, and the Condés, 266
Claude, Queen (wife of Francis I), portraits of, 216, 217, 218, 239
Clementia, 184
Clermont, Louise de, portrait of, 228, 255
Clève, Marie de, marriage, 22;
and Charles IX, 23;
death, 24
Clève, Philippe de, portrait by Holbein, 142
Clouet, François, his works, 8, 20, 22, 26, 141, 151, 205, 208, 214, 215, 219, 223, 226-243, 246;
succeeds his father as Court-painter to François I, 225, 226;
his style of work, 227, 234, 238, 247;
death, 243
Clouet, Jean, painter to the Duke of Burgundy, 211
Clouet of Tours, Jean (son of above), court-painter to Francis I, 151, 204-208;
medal of, 210;
marriage, 211;
his methods and works, 212-226, 228, 242;
death, 227
Clouet of Navarre (son of above), 211
Clovio, Giulio, Christ on the Cross, 139
Coche de Marguerite, de la, manuscript, 158
Codex with Fouquet’s miniatures, 182-184
Colbert, pastel of, 142;
and Le Brun, 251
Coligny, Admiral de, portrait of, 141
Coligny, Dandelot de, 42
Coligny, Gaspard, on the death of Francis II, 19;
and the Condés, 21;
death, 23
Coligny, Odet de, a Cardinal, portrait of, 133, 236;
history of, 237
Colnaghi, Messrs., sell portraits and pictures to Duc d’Aumale, 133, 138
Colombe, Jean de, works of, 162, 171, 178, 197
Colombe, Michel, 209
Colonel Lepic à Eylau, by Détaille, 152
Comptes de Lyon, by Perréal, 207
Concert Champêtre, by Corot, 152, 275, 276
Conches Collection, 186
Condé family, the, 4, 16 et seq.
Condé, first Prince de (Louis de Bourbon), 16;
religion and marriage, 17;
imprisonment, 17, 18;
release, 19;
infidelities, 19;
death, 20;
portraits of, 18, 136
Condé, second Prince de (Henri I de Bourbon), portrait of, 18;
and Mlle. de Saint-André, 19;
and his mother, 20;
succeeds his father, 21;
marriage, 22;
and the Protestant faith, 23, 24;
death of his wife, 24;
second marriage, 24, 25;
the War of the Four Henris, 25, 26;
becomes heir-presumptive, 27;
death, 28
Condé, third Prince de (Henri II de Bourbon), portrait of, 12;
marriage and its result, 12-15, 30;
imprisonment, 31;
and Louis XIII, 32;
death, 43;
bronze monument of, 123
Condé, fourth Prince de (Louis II de Bourbon, Duc d’Enghien, the “Grand Condé”), baptism and education, 33;
early marriage, 34;{286}
life in Burgundy, 35, 36;
elected general, 37;
victor of Rocroy, Thionville, and Nordlingen, 38-41;
illness, 41;
influence of women on, 42;
death of his father, 43;
victor of Lens, 43, 44;
reception by the King, 44;
puts down the Fronde, 45;
Mazarin an implacable enemy, 47 et seq.;
imprisoned at Vincennes, 48, 49;
removed to Havre, 54;
his wife obtains his freedom, 55, 56;
betrayed by his enemies, 57;
his faults, 57;
retires to Montroux, 58;
alliance with Spain, 59 et seq.;
entry into and retreat from Paris, 60;
financial difficulties, 61, 62;
a lost battle, 63;
returns to France, 64;
his regrets, 65;
retires to Chantilly, 66;
improvements at Chantilly, 66, 67;
refuses Crown of Poland, 69;
cruel treatment to his wife, 70-73;
her death, 73;
illustrious visitors and festivities at Chantilly, 75-77, 83;
war with Holland, 78 et seq.;
wounded, 81;
return to Chantilly and death, 83;
interest in scientific discoveries and passion for the chase, 84;
protects the Huguenots, 85;
and his grandson, 85;
a free-thinker, 87;
his death, 88;
statues of, 89, 276;
portraits of, 251;
bust of, 277
Condé, fifth Prince de (Henri Jules de Bourbon, Duc d’Albret, Duc d’Enghien), son of the Grand Condé, 41;
escapes with his mother, 50, 51;
educated by Jesuits, 62;
Louis XIV’s entry into Paris, 65;
at Chantilly, 67;
marriage, 69;
sad interview with his mother, 73;
his mother’s death, 73;
his father wounded, 81;
character, 81, 85, 90;
death of his father, 87;
succeeds and carries out his father’s improvements at Chantilly, 89;
violent temper and death, 90
Condé, sixth Prince de (Louis III, Duc de Bourbon), early marriage and education, 85, 86;
death, 91
Condé, seventh Prince de (Louis Henri, Duc de Bourbon), early succession, 91;
improvements and illustrious visitors at Chantilly, 91, 95;
Prime Minister of France, 92;
death of his wife, 92;
and the Marquise de Prie, 92-94;
resignation, 94;
second marriage, 94, 95;
death, 95
Condé, eighth Prince de (Louis Joseph), condemns the Grand Condé’s treatment of his wife, 74;
early succession, 95;
marriage and birth of a son, 96;
gained victories of Grinningen and Johannesberg, 97;
death of his wife, 97;
illustrious visitors at Chantilly, 98-104;
leaves France owing to Revolution, 104;
at Worms, 109;
retires to Wanstead House, Wimbledon, 109;
second marriage, 109;
returns to Chantilly, 111;
restores Chantilly, 111, 112;
death, 113;
and Jean Baptiste Huet, 260;
and Fragonard, 264;
portrait of, 265
Condé, ninth Prince de. See Bourbon, Louis Henri Joseph, Duc de
Condé, Henriette de Bourbon (Mme. de Vermandois), Abbess, 100
Condé, Histoire des Princes de, by Duc d’Aumale, 38, 74
Condé, Louise de (daughter of eighth Prince de Condé), birth, 96;
life at Chantilly, 100, 101;
and the Marquis de Gervaisais, 102, 103;
the French Revolution, 104;{287}
retires to a convent, 109;
tragic death of Duc d’Enghien, 109, 110;
reception in England, 110;
death, 115
Condé, Mme. la Princesse Douarière de, 35
Condé, Musée, erection of, 122, 123;
bequeathed to the French nation, 124, 125;
art treasures of, and how they were brought together, 129 et seq.;
French illuminated manuscripts at, 154-164;
Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, 165-178;
works of Jean Fouquet of Tours, 179-195;
of Jean Perréal and Bourdichon, 196-210;
of Jean Clouet, 211-226;
of François Clouet, 227-248;
Catalogue Raisonnée of, 247;
works of painters from Nicolas Poussin to Corot, 248-278
Condé, Sur la femme du Grand, 34
Confession of St. Peter, 189
Constable, John, effect of his work on French painters, 273, 274
Constantine, Emperor, medal of, 175
Conti, Prince de, brother of the Grand Condé, 48;
illness, 49;
at Bordeaux, 60, 61;
and Mazarin, 64
Conti, François, Prince, nephew of the Grand Condé, 85
Conti, Louise Henriette de Bourbon, portrait by Nattier, 254
Corneille de Lyon, his works, 26, 141, 147, 218, 231, 242, 244
Corneille, Pierre, the Poet at Chantilly, 75, 83
Coronation of Charlemagne, by Fouquet, 82
Coronation of the Virgin, the. See Virgin
Corot, Jean B. C., Le Concert Champêtre, 152, 274, 275, 276
Cosimo, Piero di, Simonetta Vespucci, 146
Coste, Jean de, the Château de Vaudreuil, 200
Court, Jean de, Court-painter to Henri III, 244
Courtils de Merlemont, M. des, Knight of St. Louis, imprisoned at Chantilly, 106
Coutras, Battle of, 26
Cowley, Lord, occupies Chantilly, 119
Coysevox, statue of the Grand Condé, 276
Crépuscule en Sologne, Le, by Rousseau, 275
Croix, Mlle. de la, 35
Crozat, M., the financier and collector, owned the Orleans Madonna, 140;
and Watteau, 259
Crucifixion, The, in Les Très Riches Heures, 177, 192
Cuirassiers, Les, by Meissonier, 152, 272
Cupid and Psyche, in windows at Chantilly, 5
Cust, H. Hobart, The Life of Benvenuto Cellini, 222 n.
Cust, Lionel, History of Art in England, 201
Czartoysky, Prince Ladislas, marriage, 121

Damartin, Guy de, architect, 166
Dance of Angels, 135
Danloux, M.;
portraits by, 114, 266
Danté’s Inferno with Commentary by Guido of Pisa, 157
Daphne flying to her father’s protection, by Poussin, 250
Daumet, M., rebuilds the Grand Château, 122
Dauphin, the Grand (only son of Louis XIV.), at Chantilly, 90;
portraits of, 138, 217
Dauphin François, portraits of, 212, 217, 218, 220, 239, 244{288}
Dauphin Louis (son of Louis XVI), portrait of, 264
David, Jacques Louis, and Prud’hon, 267;
his works, 269
Dawes, Sophie, known as Baronne de Feuchères, 115
Death of Germanicus, The, by Poussin, 249
Déjeuner d’Huîtres, by de Troy, 134, 259
Déjeuner de Jambon, by Lancret, 134, 259
Delacroix, Eugène, his works, 141, 270, 271
Delaroche, Paul, his works, 134, 269, 270
Delessert Sale, 139
Deligand Collection, 228 n., 239
Delisle, Count Leopold, 161
Delormes, Philibert, 240
Denmark and Louis XIV, 81
Derbais, M., his works, 277
Descamps, Jean Baptiste, painter, works of, 134, 139, 271
Descartes, René, and the Grand Condé, 87
Descent from the Cross, by Fouquet, 192, 193
Descent of the Holy Ghost, by Fouquet, 193
Desportes, P., poet, his works, 132, 255, 256;
and Jean de Court, 244
Detaille, Jean Baptiste, his works, 272, 273, 274
Détaille, M., his finest work, 152;
album, 241
Devançay, Mme. de, by Ingres, 147
Diane de France. See Angoulême, Duchesse de
Diane de Poitiers. See Poitiers
Diaz de la Pena, works of, 275, 276
Diderot, M., on Greuze, 261;
on David, 269
Dimier, L., 204;
Bulletin de la Société Nationale des Antiquaires de France, 240 n.
Dinier, Louis, Les Portraits peints de François I, 151 n.
Diodorus Siculus, translation of, 158
Disraeli, Benjamin, in praise of Duc d’Aumale, 131
Distribution des Aigles, La, by David, 269
Divina Commedia, by Dante, 194
Domenichino, Domenico, and Poussin, 249
Donato, San, Sale, 139
Donneur des Sérénades, La, by Watteau, 258
Dourdan, Castle of, in Les Très Riches Heures, 168
Dragons sous Louis XV, Les, 138
Dream of a Knight, The, by Raphael, 148
Drouais, M., portraits by, 142, 263
Duban, M., architect, 118, 122
Dubois, P., a follower of François Clouet, 245;
statue of the Grand Montmorency, 276;
bust and tomb of Duc d’Aumale, 277, 278
Duccio’s famous altar-piece at Siena, 193 n.
Dûchatel, Comte, at Chantilly, 119
Duclos, Mlle., portrait of, 254
Dudley, Earl of, owner at one time of The Three Graces, 148, 149
Duel après le Bal, Le, by Gérome, 135
Duff-Gordon-Duff Collection, 144
Dugardin, the goldsmith, frames the miniature of Elizabeth of Austria, 243
Dughet, Gaspar, works by, 133, 146, 250
Dumoustier, M., works by, 42, 143, 147, 151, 245, 246
Dunes at Scheveningen, by Ruysdael, 139
Duplessis, M., administrator of the galleries at Versailles, 261{289}
Dupré, M., works by, 275
Duras, Duchesse de, a prisoner at Chantilly, 107
Dürer, Albert, celebrated artist, Virgin, 131
Durrieu, Comte Paul, 148;
and the Très Riches Heures, 161, 163;
made reproduction of Hours of Turin, 165;
and the medal of Emperor Constantine, 175;
and the Fouquet miniatures, 182;
and the MS. de Saint Michel, 202

Eaux Douces d’Asie, Les, by Diaz, 276
Ecce Homo, by Titian, 135
Edward III, portrait of, 201 n.
Edward VII, visits Chantilly when Prince of Wales, 122;
presentation of Fouquet’s miniatures to President Fallières, 184
Elbœuf, Mme. de, by Corneille, 244
Eleonore, Queen, portrait of, 133
Elizabeth of Austria, portraits of, 133, 234
Enghien, Duc de (see also Bourbon, Louis Henri Joseph), son of Louis Henri, Duc de Bourbon, 103;
the French Revolution, 104, 105;
execution by Napoleon, 110;
portrait of, 264
Enthronement of the Virgin, by Fouquet, 193, 194
Epéron, Duc de, the hated Governor of Bordeaux, 52
Erasmus, portrait of, 204
Estampes, Château de, in the Calendar of Months, 170
Estampes, Duchesse de (mistress of Francis I), intrigues of, 6
Este, Cardinal Ippolito de, 222
Esther as Queen, walking in her garden, in the Lichtenstein Gallery at Vienna, 150, 151
Estrange, Madame le, portrait by Clouet of, 223, 224
Estrées, Gabrielle de (mistress of Henri IV), portraits of, 136, 142, 246, 247
Eugenius IV, Pope, portrait of, 180
Eve and the Apple, in Les Très Riches Heures, 173
Everdingen, the master of Ruysdael, 146
Evreux, Jeanne de (wife of Charles IV), Breviary executed for, 151, 160
Eyck, Hubert Van, works by, 146, 165 n.

Fables de Marie de France, Les, 130
Fabre Collection, 149
Fagon, Dr. (physician to Louis XIV), portraits of, 248
Fall of the Rebel Angels, 175, 176
Fallières, President, presentation of the Fouquet MSS. to, 184
Faure Sale, 141
Fel, Marie, opera singer, pastel of, 260
Fénélon, François, at Chantilly, 83
Ferdinand III, Emperor, Peace of Westphalia, 44
Fermes en Normandie, by Rousseau, 275
Ferrara, Ercole, Duc de, marriage, 221
Ferrara, Duchesse de. See Rénée de France
Filarete, Treatise on Architecture, 180
Flanders, invaded by Louis XIV, 78
Fleuranges, Maréchal de, portrait of, 205
Fleury, Cardinal, and the Marquise de Prie, 94
Fleury, Robert, works by, 138
Foix, Odet de, portraits of, 205, 208
Fontaine, La, at Chantilly, 75;
designs executed in tapestry from his Fables, 256{290}
Foscari, The Two, by Delacroix, 141, 270, 271
Foulon, Benjamin, and the Lecurieur album, 235
Fouquet of Tours, Jean (Court-painter to Louis XI), his works, 152, 153, 155, 156, 179-195, 202, 207 n.;
early history of, 180
Four Evangelists, 173
Fragonard, J. Honoré, painter, his works, 264, 265
France, Chronique de. See Chronique
France, Diane de. See Angoulême, Duchesse de
France, Henriette de, portrait of, 245
France, Histoire litteraire de la, 157
France, History of the Kings of, 251, 252
France, Jeanne de (Queen of Navarre, daughter of Charles VII), 148;
Book of Hours designed for, 160
France, Les Fables de Marie de, 130
France, Margot de (daughter of Catherine de Medicis), engagement, 22;
portraits of, 233, 234, 238;
marriage, 243
France, Marguerite de (sister of Henri II), portraits of, 141, 218, 244;
history of, 218-221;
marriage, 219
France, Mme. Adelaide de, portrait of, 260
France, Rénée de. See Rénée
France, war with Spain, 38 et seq.;
the Fronde rising, 44, 45;
civil war, 55, 59;
Peace of the Pyrenees, 64;
invasion of Holland, 78-82;
Revolution, 104, 105;
gift of Musée Condé to the nation, 124
Francia, his Annunciation, 145
Francis I (formerly Duc d’Angoulême), Battle of Marignan, 6;
jealous of Anne de Montmorency, 6;
portraits of, 138, 141, 151, 158, 204, 206, 207, 213-215, 216, 228, 241;
and Jean Perréal, 205;
his daughter Marguerite de France, 220;
Princesse Jeanne, 224
Francis II, imprisonment of Louis de Bourbon-Condé, 17, 18;
illness, 18;
death, 19;
portraits of, 20, 229, 232
Fremiet, M., bronze by, 277
Fresnes, Comte de, 150
Frizzoni, Dr. G., 146
Froissart, Jean, French poet, manuscript, 143;
description of the castle of Mehun-sur-Yevre, 177
Fromentin, Eugène (a celebrated writer and painter), his works, 139, 271, 272
Fronde, outbreak of the, 44, 45
Fry, Roger, and the Maître de Moulins, 199

Gaignière, Robert, collection of French drawings, 141, 151, 156;
his Receuils, 185, 188, 201;
discovers portrait of Jean le Bon, 200;
miniatures, 207;
portraits, 208, 218, 245
Gallic War, manuscript history of, 157, 204, 206
Game of Chess, A, by Carmontelle, 144
Gardiner, Mrs. John, owner of The Virgin and the Holy Child, 150
Gautier, Leonard, Cupid and Psyche, 6;
Kings of France, 215
Gazette des Beaux Arts, 172, 198, 203 n.
Genealogy of the Blessed Virgin, a Mariensippe, 186
George I, portrait of, 142
Georgette, by Greuze, 262
Gerard, François (styled “the painter of Kings” and “King of Painters”), Queen Marie Amélie, 137;
Napoleon, 146, 268{291}
Gericault, M., 147;
a pioneer of Romanticism, 270
Gérome, M., Le Duel après le Bal, 135
Gervaisais, Marquis de, and Princess Louise de Condé, 102, 103
Ghirlandajo frescoes, 190
Gillott, Claude, earliest creator of the Watteau style, 258, 259
Giorgione, M., The Woman taken in Adultery, 135
Giotto’s Death of the Virgin, 145
Giovanni del Ponte di San Stefano, The Coronation of the Virgin, 145
Gobelins tapestry, the, 132, 251, 256
Goes, Ugo Van der, the Grand Bâtard, 142
Goldschmidt, Leopold, 149, 150
Gondi, Albert de, portrait of, 235
Gondi, Henri, Archdeacon of Paris, portrait of, 245
Gondi, Paul (subsequently known as Cardinal Retz), Archbishop of Paris and the Fronde rising, 44;
and the Queen Regent, 56, 57
Gonzague, Princesse Anne de (known as Princesse Palatine), and the Grand Condé, 42, 43, 54, 70;
at Chantilly, 75;
a free-thinker, 87;
death, 87
Gonzague, Princesse Louise Marie de (afterwards Queen of Poland), and the Grand Condé, 42, 43, 54;
and the Crown of Poland, 69;
a free-thinker, 87
Gouffier, Artur and Guillaume, portraits of, 205
Goujon, Jean, the altar of Senlis marble, 123;
his altar reliefs, 277
Gourdel, Pierre, a follower of François Clouet, 245
Graces, The Three, by Raphael, 148, 149, 187
Grammont, Duchesse de, on the death of Henri de Bourbon-Condé, 28
Grammont, Maréchal de, at Chantilly, 75
Grenadiers à Cheval à Eylau, Les, by Detaille, 272, 274
Greuze, J. B. (French painter), his style and works, 139, 261-263, 267
Grimani. See Breviary
Grinningen, victory of, 97
Gros, Antoine Jean, Baron, painter, 139
Gruyer, M. F., a Catalogue Raisonnée of the Musée Condé, 144, 247;
on Les Très Riches Heures, 160;
his works, 251
Guercino, works of, 84, 132
Guido of Pisa, Commentary, 157
Guido Reni, a celebrated Italian painter, 132
Guifard, M., 9
Guise, Duc de (son of Duc d’Aumale), at Chantilly, 120, 121;
death, 122;
portrait by Clouet, 214
Guise, Duc de (le Balafré), miniature of, 138
Guise, Duc Claude de, portrait of, 213
Guise, Henri, Duc de, the War of the Four Henris, 25, 26;
death, 26, 27;
Assassination of, by Delaroche, 134, 269, 270;
portrait by Dumoustier, 245, 246
Guises of Lorraine, the, 17
Guitar Player, The, by Watteau, 258

Hagford album, in Salting Bequest, 242
Hainau, Count, 165 n.
“Hameau,” a, at Chantilly, 98
Hamilton Palace Sale, 147, 150
Haros, Louis de (minister of Philip IV), Peace of the Pyrenees, 64;
portrait of, 143
Hauteville, Elizabeth de (afterwards{292}
Comtesse de Beauvais), marries Cardinal Coligny, 237
Hawking, art revived by the Grand Condé, 84
Hay Wain, The, by Constable, 273
“Hegli,” 6
Heidelberg, Capture of, 82
Henri I de Bourbon. See Condé, second Prince de
Henri II creates Anne de Montmorency a Duke, 8;
portraits of, 26, 133, 151, 236
Henri II de Bourbon. See Condé, third Prince de
Henri III (formerly Duc d’Anjou), admiration for Marie de Clève, 22, 24;
and the Huguenots, 23;
battle at Coutras, 26;
assassination of, 27;
portraits of, 133, 141, 244
Henri IV (Henri de Bourbon, King of Navarre), admiration for Charlotte de Montmorency of Chantilly, 10, 11, 28;
murder of, 15;
marriage, 22, and the Protestant faith, 23, 24;
War of the Four Henris, 25, 26;
succeeds to the throne, 27;
portraits of, 138, 142, 277
Henri, Duc de Guise. See Guise
Henri of Navarre. See Henri IV
Herbert of Cherbury, Lord, his Memoirs, 9
Hery, Claude de, 242
Hesdin, Jaquemart de, executes Très Belles Heures, 165, 177 n.
Heseltine Collection, 207 n., 214 n.
Heures d’Ailly. See Book of Hours
Heures d’Anjou. See Book of Hours
Heures d’Aragon. See Book of Hours
Heuzey, Léon, on date of Minerva, 136
Histoire des Princes de Condé, by Duc d’Aumale, 38, 74
Histoire litteraire de la France, 157
History of Art in England, 201 n.
Hoe, Robert, sale of his collection, 198 n.
Holbein, Jean, portrait by, 131;
Jean de Bugenhagen, 142;
the Hagford Collection, 242
Holland submerged to stay the French advance, 79
Holland, Lord, presents Talleyrand’s portrait to Duc d’Aumale, 138
Holy Family, by Jacopo Palma, 145
Hommes Illustres, Thevet’s, 212, 215
Hôpital, Michael de le, resignation of, 20
Hortense, Queen, owner of Chantilly, 109
Hours of Anne de Beaujeu. See Book of Hours
Hours of Turin. See Book of Hours
Howard Collection, 151, 152, 242
Huet, Christophe, works by, 132;
designer and decorator of the Grande Chinoiserie at Chantilly, 259, 260
Huet, Jean Baptiste (son of above), painter, 260
Hugo, Victor, his letter to the Duc d’Aumale, 147, 148
Huguenots, Prince de Condé one of their leaders, 17;
religious wars, 20, 21, 23-26;
protected by the Grand Condé, 85
Hulin, M., 199
Huntsman with his dog and bag of game, by Desporte, 256
Husband and Wife, 146

Infancy of Bacchus, by Poussin, 135, 249
Inferno, Dante’s, 157
Ingeburge, Psalter of Queen, 158, 159
Ingres, Jean D. A., works by, 133, 135, 147;
his pupil David, 269{293}
Inventory of Charles V, 159;
of the Palais de Tournelle, 241
Isabella, Archduchess, and the Princesse de Condé, 14, 15
Italian enamel, 141
Italian manuscripts, 138

James V of Scotland, marriage, 218
Jarnac, Battle of, 20
Jean II, Baron de Montmorency, 4
Jean le Bon (father of Charles V of France), portrait of, 200
Jeanne d’Arc, by Chapu, 276
Joconde, La, Reiset Collection, 131
Johannesberg, Grand Condé’s victory at, 97
Jones Collection in Victoria and Albert Museum, 232
Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife, by Prud’hon, 258, 267
Josephine, portrait by Prud’hon, 267
Josephus, Antiquitates Judæorum of, 155, 181, 182, 185, 189, 200
Jott, Madame de, portrait by, 104
Joyeuse, Duc de, battle of Coutras, 26
Jupiter, a bronze, 136
Just de Tournon. See Tournon
Juvenal des Ursins, portrait of, 181

Kahn, Rudolph, presented Madame d’Elbœuf to the Louvre, 244
Kaiser Friedrich Collection at Berlin, 185
King Ahasuerus and Esther, 149
Kings of France. See Gautier

Laborde, Comte de, his discoveries, 197
Laborde, Jean de, Songs of, 130;
La Renaissance and Comptes des Bâtiments, 212 n.
Labruyère, Jean de, statue of, 89
Lagneau Brothers, their work, 245
Lami, Eugène (painter), his work, 118
Lansac, Madame de, portrait by Corneille, 141
Lancret, Nicolas, his Déjeuner de Jambon, 134, 259
Langeais, Châteaux of, bequeathed to the French nation, 7
Langeron, Mme. de, hostess at Chantilly, 87
Largillière, Nicolas, his works, 133, 254
Last Judgment, by Signorelli, 131
Latour, Maurice Quentin de (painter), his works, 260
Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 149
Leclerc, Nicolas, sculptor, 210
Lecomte, Sauveur, painter of the Grand Condé’s famous deeds, 39, 68, 90
Lecurieur Album, the famous, 235
Leczinska of Poland, Maria, marriage with Louis XV, 93;
at Chantilly, 95
Legenda Aurea of Jacopo da Voragine, the property of Charles V of France, 158, 188, 193
Lenet accomplishes with Claire-Clemence the release of the Grande Condé, 49, 50, 52, 54;
at Bordeaux, 61;
financial difficulties of the Grand Condé, 62, 63
Lenoir, Alexander, a faithful guardian of French treasures during French Revolution, 112, 141
Lens, Battle of, 43
Lepic à Eylau, Le Colonel, by Détaille, 152
Leprieur, M., Gazette des Beaux Arts, 198 n.
Lestrange, Madame, portrait by Clouet, 223, 224
Leyden, Lucas van, The Return of the Prodigal Son, 131{294}
Lichtenstein Gallery at Vienna, 150, 181
Ligny, Comte, portraits by Perréal, 202, 203
Lille made a French town, 78
Limbourg, Pol, and his brothers, miniatures by, 153, 155, 172;
illuminated manuscripts by, 162;
Très Riches Heures, 152, 154, 156, 158, 160, 162, 164-179, 192, 193;
Belles Heures, 184
Limeuil, Isabelle de, and the Grand Condé, 19
Limoges enamel, portraits in, 136
Limousin, M., painter, 215;
enamel portraits by, 277
Lippi, Filippo, his works at Chantilly, 145;
Filippino, 149
Liselotte as a Maid, by Largillière, 254
Livres d’Heures. See Book of Hours
Livy’s Second Decade translated by Pierre Bersuire, 157
Lochis Collection at Bergamo, 223
Longhi, Luca (painter), 132
Longueville, Duc de, and Grand Condé’s arrest, 48;
death, 64
Longueville, Duc de (son of above), death 80
Longueville, Duchesse de (formerly Geneviève de Bourbon), portraits of, 12, 133, 251;
birth, 31;
beautiful but vain, 34;
and Claire-Clemence, 34, 35, 73;
joins the Fronde, 45;
escape from Mazarin, 49;
at Saint-Maur, 57;
wins over her brother the Grand Condé to ally himself with Spain, 58;
at Bordeaux, 61, 62;
retires to a convent on death of her husband, 64;
her son’s death, 81;
becomes a pious Jansenite, 87
Loo, Van, portraits by, 133, 147
Lorraine, Cardinal de, and Queen Mary Stuart, 21 n.
Lorraine, Catherine de, portrait of, 136
Lorraine, Claude, his wonderful atmospheric effects, 250
Louis II of Anjou, King of Sicily, portrait of, 201
Louis XI, portrait as founder of the Order of St. Michael, 181;
as one of the Magi, 191
Louis XII, portraits of, 203, 207-210;
appoints Jean Perréal Court-painter, 205;
Tournois tapestry, 208;
medal of, 210
Louis XII, Lettres de, by Just de Tournon, 205
Louis XIII regrets his cruelty to the Condé family, 32;
and Richelieu, 37;
last words and death, 39;
portraits of, 143, 245
Louis XIV and Isabelle de Montmorency, 42;
reception of the Grand Condé, 44, 64, 66;
the Fronde rising, 45;
proclaimed King, 57;
recovers Paris, 60;
entry into Paris, 65;
refuses a lettre de cachet against Claire-Clemence, 71;
at Fontainebleau, 75;
and Mme. de Montespan, 75;
at Chantilly, 76, 77;
war with Holland and Spain, 78-82;
portrait of, 134;
and the Gaignières bequest, 156;
appoints Charles Le Brun Court-painter, 252;
death, 257
Louis XV at Chantilly, 92, 95;
intrigues of Mme. de Prie, 93, 94;
and the Duchesse de Bourbon, 95;
and the pacte de famine, 101;
portrait of, 261
Louis XVI and the French Revolution, 104, 105, 107;
portrait of, 261
Louis Bordeaux (son of the Grand Condé), rejoicings at his birth, 61;
early death, 62{295}
Louis Philippe. See Orléans, Duc de
Lucifer, 175
Luignes, Duc de, his Mémoires, 95
Luini, Bernardino, his paintings at Chantilly, 145
Lusignan, Fortress in the Calendar of Months, 168
Lustrac, Marguerite de, and Louis de Bourbon, 19

McCall, Colonel, administers the estate of Chantilly, 119
Madonna, by Sassoferrata, 133;
the Maison d’Orléans, by Raphael, 140, 187;
the Bridgewater, 140;
by Bissolo, 145;
by Fouquet, 181, 185;
by Bourdichon, 198;
by Mignard, 252
Magdalen, portrait by Mignard, 198
Magi. See Adoration and Procession of
Maison de Sylvie, 32
Maison, Marquis, collection of, 139
Maître de Moulins, 199
Malatesta. See Paolo
Malebranche, Nicolas, philosopher and theologian, 83
Malediction Paternelle, by Greuze, 262
Malonel, M., Court-painter to the Duke of Burgundy, 173
Man and Woman, A, 131
Man with a Glass of Wine, by Fouquet, 181
Mangin, Jean, Cupid and Psyche, 6
Mannheim, Capture of, 82
Mannier, Les le, by G. Moreau Nélaton, 229
Manuscripts, French illuminated, 154 et seq., 204
Marchand, insults the Duchesse de Duras, 107
Marck, Robert de la, portrait of, 235
Margot de France. See France, Margot de
Marguerite, Princesse (daughter of Duc de Nemours), marriage, 121;
portrait of, 226
Marie Amélie, Princesse (daughter of Comte de Paris), betrothal to Duke of Braganza, 124
Marie Amélie, Queen (wife of Louis Philippe), portrait by Gerard, 137;
her collection, 138;
visit from her son the Duc d’Aumale, 160
Marie Anne of Bavaria, portrait of, 138
Marie Antoinette (wife of Louis XVI), visits Chantilly, 97;
portraits of, as Hebe, 142, 263
Marie Caroline, Queen of Naples, portrait by Mme. Vigée Le Brun, 263
Marie de Medicis, portrait of, 138
Marie Louise (wife of Napoleon), portrait by Prud’hon, 267
Marie Louise Josephine (wife of Grand Duke of Tuscany), portrait by Mme. Vigée le Brun, 263, 264
Marie Thérèse of Spain, Infanta, marriage to Louis XIV, 64;
portrait of, 138
Marie Thérèse Caroline (wife of Francis II, Emperor of Germany), portrait by Mme. Vigée Le Brun, 263
Mariensippe, a, 186, 188
Mariette, M., his bequests to the Louvre, 156;
on Largillière’s personal vigour, 254
Marignan. See Preux de
Marilhat, M., his works at Musée Condé, 139
Marmion, Simon, his fine altar-piece at Saint-Bertin, 178, 197
Marqueste, M., his figure of St. Louis, 276
Marriage of St. Francis of Assisi to Poverty, by Sassetta, 145
Marriage of the Virgin, The, 188{296}
Mars and Venus, by Paolo Veronese, 135
Martel, M. le Comte, 145
Martigné Briant, Madame de, portrait of, 244
Martini, Simone, 173
Martyrdom of St. Stephen, The, by Carracci, 135
Mary Stuart, portraits of, Frontispiece, 229, 232, 241;
King’s insulting words to, 242
Mary’s Obsequies, by Fouquet, 193
Mary Tudor, portrait of, 242
Masaccio, Tomaso, 171 n.; his work in the Brancacci Chapel in Florence, 192
Massacre of the Innocents, by Poussin, 135
Maulde, M. de, and the Maître de Moulins, 199
May Day, miniature of, 168
Mazarin, Cardinal, created Cardinal, 36;
an implacable enemy to the Grand Condé, 40, 47-49, 53, 55, 57, 59-66;
his attempt to force taxation on merchandise, 44;
his exile, 55, 56, 57;
helps the King to recover Paris, 60;
Peace of the Pyrenees, 63, 64;
reconciliation with Grand Condé, 65;
portraits of, 134, 142, 251
Mazzola, Giuseppe, his works in the Musée Condé, 132
Mecklenburg-Schwerin, Duke of, marriage, 42
Medici, Giuliano del, and Simonetta Vespucci, 146
Medicis, Queen Catherine de (wife of Henri II), her dislike for Anne de Montmorency, 8;
appointed Regent, 18-20;
her character, 22;
her son’s treachery, 26;
portraits of, 26, 141, 151, 230;
her Book of Hours, 215;
and M. Humières, 229;
and Cardinal Odet de Coligny, 237;
as a collector and severe critic, 238-245
Medicis, Queen Marie de (wife of Henri IV of France), 12;
murder of Henri IV, 15;
and the Grand Condé, 38;
miniature of, 138
Mehun-sur-Yèvre, Castle of, 177
Meissonier, Jean L. E., his works, 138, 152
Méjanés Collection at Aix, 214
Mely, M. de, Gazette des Beaux Arts, 172 n.
Memling, painting by, 62
Mène, M., bronzes by, 277
Mercure de France, description of entertainments at Chantilly, 90
Mesangère, Pierre de la, his collection, 144
Mesmes, Henri de, Psalter of Queen Ingeburge presented to, 159;
and Catherine de Medicis, 242, 243
Meulen, Van, History of the Kings of France, 251
Michelangelo’s Slaves, 276
Michel de l’Hôpital, resignation of, 20
Mierevelt’s, Elizabeth Stuart, 133
Mignard, Pierre, and the Grand Condé, 84;
portraits by, 84, 133, 142;
life of, 252, 253
Millet, François, painter of the Barbizon School, 169, 275
Minerva, a famous bronze, 136, 137
Miracle of the Loaves, 177
Missal of St. Denis in the Victoria and Albert Museum, 160
Molière, J., at Chantilly, 75, 83;
his poem Amphitryon, 75;
portraits of, 84, 142, 253;
statues of, 89, 276
Monatshefte für Kunstwissenschaft, by Louise M. Richter, 204 n.
Montaigne, Michel de, portrait of, 147;
his Journal du voyage, 196{297}
Montbas, the Dutch General, and William of Orange, 80
Montecucoli, Comte de, Austrian General, battle of Salzbach, 82
Montespan, Mme., mistress of Louis XIV, 75;
her daughter’s marriage, 85, 86;
portrait of, 143
Montfaucon, Bernard de, and the Book of Hours, 186
Months. See Calendar
Monticelli, painter of the Second Empire, 276
Montjoies, 175
Montmorency, Anne de (known as the Grand Connétable), history of, 5 et seq.;
his artistic taste, 5, 6;
as a warrior, 6, 8;
jealousy of Francis I, 6;
Diane de Poitiers, 7;
created Duke, and death, 8;
portraits of, 8, 205, 230;
and Emperor Charles V, 10;
Book of Hours, 158;
statue by Dubois, 276;
bust, 277
Montmorency, Charlotte de (wife of third Prince de Condé), her beauty, 9;
Henri IV’s admiration for, 10-15;
marriage and retirement to the country, 12;
flight to the Netherlands and life there, 12-14;
shares her husband’s imprisonment, 30, 31;
flight from Paris, 45;
at Chantilly, 50
Montmorency, François de, succeeds Anne de Montmorency as Lord of Chantilly, and marriage, 9
Montmorency, Guillaume de, history of, 4, 5;
portraits of, 4, 206
Montmorency, Henri II de, Lord of Chantilly, imprisonment and execution of, 4, 31;
portrait of, 248
Montmorency, Isabelle de, her pernicious influence over the Grand Condé, 42
Montmorency, Jean de, 4
Montmorency, Jean II de, marriage, 4
Montroux, escape of Claire-Clemence to, 51, 52, 54
Mordecai on Horseback in the Lichtenstein Gallery in Vienna, 150
Morgan, J. F. Pierpont, his collection, 262, 265
Moro, Antonio, his works in the Musée Condé, 84
Moroni, Giovanni, a portrait by, 132
Moulins, Maître de, 199, 200
Mulhouse, victory at, 82
Munich Public Library, works by Fouquet at, 181, 182
Musée Carnevalet, 263
Musée Condé. See Condé
Museo Nationale at Florence, 203
Mystic Marriage of St. Francis, The, Gassetta, 146

Nain, Brothers le, their paintings, 248
Nantes, Edict of, 85
Nantes, Mlle. (daughter of Louis XIV), child marriage, 85, 86;
portrait of, 255
Naples, Queen of. See Marie Caroline
Napoleon I, his Memoirs, 105;
Chantilly the property of the State, 109;
portraits by Gérard, 146, 268;
by Meissonier, 272;
and Prud’hon, 267
National Gallery, Claude Lorraine’s finest landscapes in, 250
Nativity of Christ, by Fouquet, 191
Nattier, Jean Marc, his paintings, 96, 254, 255
Navarre, Henri de. See Henri IV
Navarre, King of. See Bourbon, Antoine de
Navarre, Queen of. See Albret, Jeanne de{298}
Navarre, Nicholas Baron, his manuscripts, 185
Nélaton, Moreau, 203, 239;
his drawing in red chalk of Cardinal Odet de Coligny, 237;
Erasmus, 238;
Le Portrait à la cour des Valois, 239 n.
Nemours, Duc de, 56; portraits by Fouquet, 141;
Antiquitates Judæorum, 183
Nemours, Duchesse de, her description of the Grand Condé, 57
Neubourg, Duc of, portrait by Van Dyck, 133
Nevers, Louis de, portraits of, 214, 223, 238
Nieuwenhuys, M., sells Mars and Venus, 135
Nolivos Sale, 137
Nord, Comte du (afterwards Emperor Paul of Russia), his visit to Chantilly, 98-100
Nördlingen, Battle of, 40
Northbrook Collection, 208
Northwick Sale, 135
Nôtre, André Le, lays out the Gardens at Chantilly, 66, 67;
statues of, 89, 276
Numa Pompilius and the Nymph Egeria, by Poussin, 249

Oberkirch, Baroness, describes the visit of the Comte du Nord to Chantilly, 99, 100
Odet de Foix. See Foix.
Old Man, by Brothers Lagneau, 245
Orgemont, Pierre de (Chancellor to Charles V of France), owned Chantilly, 3
Orlant, Prince, portrait of, 198
Orléans, Charles Maximilian, 239
Orléans, Duc de (afterwards King Louis Philippe), death of Louis Joseph de Condé, 113;
breeds English racehorses in France, 116;
visit to Chantilly, 118;
abdication, 118, 119;
portraits of, 137, 266, 267
Orléans, Duchesse de (wife of above), portrait by Gérard, 268
Orléans, Duc de (son of above), portrait of and death, 268
Orléans, Gaston, Duc de (brother of Louis XIII), and the Grand Condé, 55, 56, 57, 60;
portraits of, 137, 143;
owned Vierge de la Maison d’Orléans, 139
Orléans, Girard de, assists Jean de Coste to decorate the Château de Vaudreuil, 200
Orléans, Henri de. See Aumale, Duc de
Orléans, Louise Marie Thérèse Bathilde de, marriage, 97
Orme, Nicolas, translates Aristotle’s Ethics, 157
Oronce Finé, portrait by Clouet of, 212, 213
Orsini, Marie Felice, pleads in vain for her husband Henri de Montmorency’s life, 31, 32
Otto I, Emperor, portrait of, 138
Oudry, M., his works, 132, 256;
Mary Stuart, 233;
character of his work, 255, 256
Oursine, meaning of name, 174;
portrait of, 176

Palatine, Princess. See Princess
Palisse, Seigneur de la, portraits of, 202, 205
Pallavicini, villa at Pegli, illness of Queen Marie Amélie, 161
Palma, Jacopo, Holy Family, 145
Panizzi, Sir Antonio, Principal Librarian of the British Museum, 161
Paolo Malatesta and Francesca da Rimini, by Ingres, 133
Paon, Le, a hunting-scene by, 100{299}
Papal Legate, by Fouquet, 207 n.
Parement de Narbonne, now in the Louvre, 154
Paris, breaking out of the Fronde, and blockade of, 44, 45;
welcome of the Grand Condé, 55;
capture of Paris by the Grand Condé and retreat from, 60;
entry of Louis XIV, 65;
painting by Dupré, 275
Paris, Comte de. See Louis Philippe
Paris, Comte de, abdication of his grandfather Louis Philippe in his favour, 119
Paris, Gaston, Histoire litteraire de la France, 157
Pazet, Jean, a follower of Fouquet, 197
Pembroke, Earl of, owner of the Parement de Narbonne, 154
Penni, Luca, his works in Musée Condé, 132
Peronneau, M., his works, 261
Perrault, M., 267
Perréal, Jean (Court-painter to Louis XII), his works, 4, 151, 189 et seq., 199-210, 218;
a follower of Fouquet, 197;
history of, 199, 202-210
Perugino, 135
Petit-Château, 6, 123
Philip II, King of Spain, and the Princesse de Condé, 14
Philip le Beau, portrait of, 208
Philippe Augustus, illustrations of events in his life in Chronique de France, 182
Philippe Egalité, portraits by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 134;
by Fleury, 137;
by Vernet, 266
Philobiblon Miscellanies, The, 164
Pichius, Albertus, The Gallic War, 157
Pichon, Baron, his collection, 246
Pierre des Iles, known as “Macon” of Chantilly, 8
Pisanello, 131
Pisseleu, Jossine (niece of Duchesse d’Estampes), portraits of, 227, 234
Pitt, William, reception in England of Louise de Condé, 110
Pius V, Pope, and Cardinal Odet de Coligny, 237
Plaisir Pastoral, by Watteau, 258
Pluto and Proserpine plucking Daffodils, by Chapu, 276
Poitiers, Castle of, in Calendar of Months, 170
Poitiers, Diane de (mistress of Henri II), intimate friend of Anne de Montmorency, 7, 230;
portraits of, 141, 240, 241;
her beautiful daughter “Brasseu,” 228;
reception at Lyons, 231
Poliziano, writer of sonnets on Simonetta Vespucci, 146
Pollaiuolo, Antonio, 146
Pompadour, Mme. de, and Boucher, 257;
portraits of, 257, 263
Pompey enters the Temple in Triumph in Antiquitates Judæorum, 189
Pont de Sèvres, by S. W. Reynolds, 274
Porcelain, collection of Chantilly, 277
Port St. Nicholas, by Dupré, 275
Pot, Anne de (mother of Anne de Montmorency), marriage, 5
Pourbus, portrait of Henri IV, 142
Pourtales vase, the famous, 136
Poussin, Nicolas, his works, 135, 146, 249, 250;
history of, 249, 250;
and Simon Vouet, 251
Prayer Book of Anne de Bretagne, 198
Precieuses Ridicules, The, acted at Chantilly, 75
Presler, Raoul de, translates St. Augustine’s Cité de Dieu, 157
Preux de Marignan, 151, 157, 202, 204;
painted by Perréal, 204, 206
Prie, Mme. de (mistress of the Duc{300}
de Bourbon), charms and machinations of, 93, 94;
exile and death, 94
Primaticcio, Francesco, his portrait of Henri II, 133, 236;
the frescoes at Fontainebleau, 228
Princess Palatine, Charlotte Elizabeth (devoted friend of the Grand Condé), portrait of, 245;
Charlotte Elizabeth (second wife of Philippe d’Orléans), 254
Procession, A, by Bouts, 146;
of the Magi, by the Limbourgs, 174, 201 n.
Prophets, by Michael Angelo, 131
Protais, Avant et après le Combat, 135
Protestant cause in France, 17-19, 21, 23, 85;
disaster at Vimory and Auneau, 26
Provence, Comte de, portrait by Duplessis, 261
Prud’hon, Pierre, works by, 139, 147, 258, 267;
Napoleon confers the Legion of Honour on, 267
Psalter of Queen Ingeburge of Denmark, 150, 158
Pucelle, Jean, 160
Pyrenees, Peace of the, 64

Quesnel, Brothers, works by, 142, 143, 246
Quesnoy, M. (French sculptor), and Poussin, 249
Quitaut, Captain, arrests the Grand Condé, 48
Quthe, Pierre, portraits by François Clouet, 235, 236

Racine, Jean, at Chantilly, 75, 76, 83
Raimondi, Marc Antonio, works of, 134
Raphael, works by, 130, 139, 140, 148, 149
Ravaillac assassinates Henri IV, 15
Reading Monk, A, by Raphael, 130
Reboul’s Collection, 149
Recueils, Gaignière, 185, 186;
Lenoir, 214;
Marriette, 214;
d’Orange, 214;
du Tillet, 215;
d’Arras, 215
Reine de Mai, La, 168
Reiset Collection, 130, 144-146, 156, 269
Rembrandt, Paul, Mountainous Landscape, 131;
other works, 134
Renaissance, distinction between French and Italian, 7;
architecture, 187
Renaissance, La, by Laborde, 212
René, King, owned Livre d’Heures, 202
Rénée de France (Duchesse de Ferrara), her marriage, 221;
portraits of, 218, 221
Reni, Guido, his work at Musée Condé, 132
Repos des paysans, Le, by Brothers le Nain, 248
Resurrection, 138
Return from the Captivity, 184
Return of the Prodigal Son, by Lucas van Leyden, 131
Retz, Cardinal de. See Gondi, Paul
Retz, Duc de, portraits of, 142, 235
Retz, Mme. de, portrait of, 235
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, portraits of Philippe Egalité, 134;
Maria Lady Waldegrave with her daughter, 138
Reynolds, S. W. (Constable’s friend and pupil), works by, 138, 274
Rheno-Byzantine painting of King Otto I, 138
Rhetorics. See Cicero
Richelieu, Cardinal, imprisonment of third Prince de Condé, 31;
marries his niece to the Grand Condé, 34-36;
selects the Grand Condé{301}
as Commander-in-Chief, 37;
portraits of, 134, 250, 277
Richter, Louise M., Monatshefte für Kunstwissenschaft, 204
Riesener, M., a splendid cabinet at Chantilly by, 134
Rigaud, Hyacinthe, portrait painter, 134, 253
Riom, Castle of, 169
Robertet, François (secretary to Duc de Bourbon), on Josephus’ Antiquities, 155, 183
Robinson, Sir Charles, sells Italian manuscripts to Duc d’Aumale, 138
Rochefoucauld, Duc de, 56
Rochelle, La, Huguenots’ flight to, 21, 23
Rocroy, Battle of, 39
Rohan, Princesse Charlotte de, 110
Roman Campagna, A View of, by Dughet, 250
Roman Campagna, Aqueducts of, by Claude Lorraine, 250
Romano, Giulio, his works at Musée Condé, 132
Rome, Plan of, 152, 177
Rosa, Salvator, works by, 133
Rosso executes frescoes at Fontainebleau, 228
Rothschild, Baron Adolph de, his collection, 165
Rothschild, Baron Edmond de, owner of Belles Heures de Jean de Berry, 179
Rothschild, Maurice de, owner of Book of Hours, 160
Roye, Eleanore de (wife of first Prince de Condé), marriage and imprisonment of her husband, 17;
his release, 19;
her death, 20
Russell, Fuller, sells the Jean de France diptych to Duc d’Aumale, 148
Ruysdael, Jacob, Dunes at Scheveningen, 139;
other works, 147

St. Augustine’s Cité de Dieu, 157
St. Bartholomew, Massacre of, 20, 22, 243
St. Bertin, fine altarpiece at, 197
St. Bruno, Scenes from the Life of, by Le Sueur, 252
St. Catherine on the Louvre, 130
St. Chapelle, 169, 189
St. Denis, Convent of, Claire-Clemence at, 35, 36
St. Denis, Missal of, in Victoria and Albert Museum, 160
St. Etienne, Guillaume de, a monk, 157
St. Evremond, his praise of the Grand Condé, 87, 88
St. Francis. See Mystic Marriage of Ste. Geneviève, by Chavannes, 269
St. John, Birth of, by Fouquet, 188, 190
St. Louis, by Marqueste, 276
St. Margaret, by Fouquet, 186
St. Martin dividing his Mantle, in the Conches Collection, 186
St. Mary Magdalen, at Frankfort, 269
St. Michel, Mont, 177
St. Michel, MS. de, 202
St. Priest, Jehan de, sculptor, 210
St. Simon’s Mémoires, 91, 246
St. Stephen’s Chapel at Westminster, paintings in, 201
Sacre et l’Intronisation de l’Empereur, by David, 269
Salerno, Prince de, his collection, 132, 133
Salière du Pavillon, by Pol Limbourg, 167
Salting Collection, in the British Museum, 152, 230, 231, 242
San Donato Sale, 139
Santuario at Chantilly, 186
Sarcophagus, antique, Bacchus and Ariadne, 137
Sarrazin, Jacques, bronze monument{302}
of Henri II de Bourbon, 123
Sarto, Andrea del, his works at Chantilly, 132
Sassetta, The Marriage of St. Francis of Assisi to Poverty, 145, 146
Sassoferrato, Giambattista, Madonna, 133
Saumur, Castle of, in Calendar of Months, 170
Sauvageot Collection, 214
Savoy, Charles of, owned The Breviary, 162
Savoy, Charles Emmanuel, education of, 221
Savoy, Philibert, and Perréal, 209
Scheffer, Ary, works by, 138, 268;
his pupil Puvis de Chavannes, 269;
and Rousseau, 275
Schlestadt, Battle of, 82
Second Appearance of Esther before Ahasuerus, 149
Second Decade, Livy’s, translated by Pierre Bersuire, 157
Secretan Sale, 152
Seillier, Baron, 150
Senlis, Seigneurs of, also named Bouteillers, 3
Sévigné, Mme. de, Letters of, describes Chantilly, 76, 83
Shepherd in the Pyrenees, A, by Rosa Bonheur, 135
Sienese School, 139
Sieur de Canaples, portraits of, 223
Signorelli frescoes, 176
Simonetta Vespucci, portrait of, 146
Sixtine Chapel, 131
Soleil Couchant, by Dupré, 275
Soltykoff Sale, 136
Sommeil de Psyche, by Prud’hon, 267
Sotheby, auctioneer, sale of Antiquitates Judæorum, 183
Soubise, Princesse Charlotte de, marriage to sixth Prince de Condé, 96;
portraits of, 96, 255;
character and death, 97
Souvenir d’Italie, by Corot, 275
Spada, Lionello, his work at Musée Condé, 132
Spain, war with France, 38 et seq., 78;
Grand Condé’s alliance with, 61;
a lost battle, 63;
Peace of Pyrenees, 64
Spain, Elizabeth, Queen of, portrait, 142
Spain, Infanta of, 93
Spinola, General, the captor of Breda, 163
Spinola, Marchese Ambroglio di, history of, 13, 14
Spinoza, Benedict, his Pantheistic doctrines, 87
Standish Library, the famous, 129, 130
Statutes of the Order of St. Michael, The, 181
Stella, Jacques, his portrait of the Grand Condé, 251
Stratonice (Tribune), by Ingres, 269
Strozzi, Maréchal, portraits of, 231, 235
Stuart, Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, portrait of, 133
Stuart, Mary, Queen of Scots, 21
Sueur, Eustache le, his work, 252
Subleyras, M., his portrait of Pope Benedict XIV, 142
Sully, Maximilien, Duc de, Minister of Finance, portraits of, 138, 142, 246
Sunrise and Sunset, by Boucher, 257
Surprise, La, by Greuze, 262
Sutherland Collection, the, 141-143

Table Ronde, 157
Talleyrand-Périgord, Charles Maurice de, portraits of, 138, 268{303}
Tanagra figures, four, 141
Temptation of our Lord, The, 176
Tendre Desir, Le, by Greuze, 262
Teniers, David, the younger, 36, 139
Terrestrial Paradise, 173
Thérèse, Marie, Queen of Louis XIV, portrait of, 138
Thésée découvrant l’épée de son père, by Poussin, 135, 249
Thevet’s series of Hommes Illustres, 212, 215
Thionville, Battle of, 40
Thomson, Mr. Yates, his collection, 160, 181;
The Romance of a Book, 183 n.
Thouars, Duc de, 24
Three Graces, The, by Raphael, 148, 149, 187
Tiburtine Sybil prophesying to Augustus, 173
Tiepolo, his works at Musée Condé, 147
Titiens, Tiziano Vecelli, the celebrated painter, Ecce Homo, 135
Tixier, Père, and Claire-Clemence, 73
Tott, Mme. de, her portrait of Louis Joseph de Bourbon, 265
Touchet, Marie (mistress of Charles IX), portrait of, 244
Tour d’Auvergne, Henri de la. See Turenne
Tournon, Just de, portraits by Perréal of, 204, 205
Toussaint, La, by Fouquet, 194
Trémoille, Charlotte Catherine de la, portrait of, 16;
history and marriage of, 24, 25;
her husband’s death, 27;
compromising conduct of, 28;
imprisonment, and birth of a son, 29;
abjures the Protestant faith, 30
Trémoille, Duc de la, occupies Chantilly, 119
Très Belles Heures. See Book of Hours
Très Riches Heures de Duc de Berry, Les. See Book of Hours
Triqueti, Baron, buys the famous Pourtales vase, 136
Trivulzio, Prince, his collection, 165
Troy, De, Déjeuner d’Huîtres, 134
Tudor, Mary, portrait by Perréal, 205
Turenne (Henri de la Tour d’Auvergne), Vicomte de, Commander-in-Chief, 37;
war between France and Spain, 38;
Battle of Rocroy, 39;
Battle of Nördlingen, 40;
imprisonment of the Grand Condé, 49;
reception of Claire-Clemence at Bordeaux, 52;
compels the Grand Condé to retreat from Paris, 60;
defeats the Grand Condé in battle near Dunkirk, 63;
Peace of the Pyrenees, 64;
reception of the Grand Condé, 65;
at Chantilly, 75;
marches into Flanders, 78;
advance on Holland, 79 et seq.;
his death, 82, 83;
bust by Derbais of, 277
Turkish Guards on their way from Smyrna to Magnesia, by Descamps, 271
Turkish Landscape, by Descamps, 271

Unknown Lady, by Clouet, 223
Unknown Young Men, by Clouet, 223
Utterson Sale, 134

Vaga, Perin del, his works at Musée Condé, 132
Valere Maxime, French translation of, 157
Valier, De S., portrait of, 238
Valois, Claude de, portrait of, 244
Valois, Elizabeth de, 233
Valois, Madeleine de, history and portrait of, 218{304}
Valois, Princes of, hostages in hands of the Emperor Charles V, 6
Van der Velde, sea-piece by, 139
Van Dyck, Sir Anthony, his works, 84, 132, 133, 137
Van Loo’s portrait of a Young Woman, 133
Vâtel, the maître d’hôtel at Chantilly, commits suicide, 76
Vaudreuil, Château de, 200
Vauldy, M. de, the escape of Claire-Clemence, 51, 52
Vedette des Dragons sous Louis XV, La, by Meissonier, 272
Venus Anadyomène, by Ingres, 147, 270
Venus and Adonis, by Prud’hon, 267
Vermandois, Comtesse Eleanore de, 158.
Vermandois, Mme. de, 100
Vernet, Joseph, celebrated marine painter, 266
Vernet, Charles (son of above), his works at Musée Condé, 266
Vernet, Horace (son of above), his works at Musée Condé, 266, 267
Veronese, Paolo, his paintings, 84, 135
Verrochio, his drawings, 131
Vespucci, Simonetta, portrait of, 146
Victoria and Albert Museum, Missal of St. Denis, 160;
Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, 232 n.;
Chantilly porcelain, 277 n.
Vielville, Maréchal de, portraits of, 231, 246
Vierge de la Maison d’Orléans, by Raphael, 139
View near London, A, by Constable, 273
Vilatte, M., painting by, 42, 146
Vimory, Battle of, 26
Vincennes, Château of, 159
Virgin, by Dürer, 131
Virgin and the Holy Child, 150
Virgin as Protector of the Human Race, The, 42, 146
Virgin, Coronation of the, by San Stefano, 145;
by Limbourg Brothers, 178
Virgin, Death of the, by Giotto, 145
Virgin, Marriage of the, by Fouquet, 182, 188
Virgin with the Infant Christ, by Fouquet, 181
Vision of St. Hubert, by Baudry, 273
Visitation, The, by Fouquet, 186, 189
Voldemont, Monsieur de, portrait by François Clouet of, 239
Volterra, Daniele di, his works in Musée Condé, 132
Voragine, Jacopo da, Legenda Aurea, 188
Vouet, Simon, and the decoration of the Louvre, 249;
Charles Le Brun his pupil, 251

Waagen, Dr. G. F., 161
Waldegrave with her daughter, Maria Lady, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 138
Wallace Collection, compared with Musée Condé, 152;
Louis XII and Anne de Bretagne, medal by Jean Perréal, 209;
Watteau’s works, 257, 259;
Greuze’s works, 262;
Meissonier’s works, 272
Walpole, Horace, his collection, 151
Warner, Mr., Librarian of Royal Library of Windsor, and the Antiquitates Judæorum, 183
Warrior, A, by Watteau, 258
Warrior on horseback, 131
Watteau, Ant., his paintings, 139, 143, 257, 258
Westphalia, Peace of, 44
William of Orange submerges Holland to withstand attacks of France, 79, 81, 82{305}
Winterhalter, F. (Court-painter to Louis Philippe and Napoleon III), Louis Philippe, 137;
Duc d’Aumale, 273
Wirty, De, the Dutch General, 80
Woman taken in Adultery, The, by Giorgione, 135
Woodburn Collection, 149
Würmser, the Austrian General, and Condé’s regiment, 105

Yates-Thomson. See Thomson
Young Boy, by Greuze, 262
Young Girl winding Wool, by Greuze, 262
Young Girl in a Cap, by Greuze, 262

Zanzé, Vicomtesse de, collection of, 246
Ziem, the painter of Venice, Les Eaux Douces d’Asie, 276
Zodiac, The, in Très Riches Heures, 172