Royal Palaces and Parks of France Part 26

During the Fronde, that "Woman's War," which was so entirely unnecessary, Anne d'Autriche held her court in the Palace of Compiegne and received Christine de Suede on certain occasions when that royal lady's costume was of such a grotesque nature, and her speech so _chevaleresque_, that she caused even a scandal in a profligate court.

Anne d'Autriche, too, left Compiegne practically a prisoner; another _menage a trois_ had been broken up.

The most imposing event in the history of Compiegne of which the chronicles tell was the a.s.sembling of sixty thousand men beneath the walls by Louis XIV, in order to give Madame de Maintenon a realistic exhibition of "playing soldiers." At all events the demonstration was a bloodless one, and an immortal page in Saint-Simon's "Memoires"

consecrates this gallantry of a king in a most subtle manner.

Another fair lady, a royal favourite, too, came on the scene at Compiegne in 1769 when Madame du Barry was the princ.i.p.al _artiste_ in the great fete given in her honour by Louis XV. She was lodged in a tiny chateau (built originally for Madame de Pompadour) a short way out of town on the Soissons road.

Du Barry must have been a good fairy to Compiegne for Louis XV lavished an abounding care on the chateau and, rather than allow the architect, Jacques Ange Gabriel, have the free hand that his counsellors advised, sought to have the ancient outlines of the former structure on the site preserved and thus present to posterity through the newer work the two monumental facades which are to be seen to-day. The effort was not wholly successful, for the architect actually did carry out his fancy with respect to the decoration in the same manner in which he had designed the ecole Militaire at Paris and the two colonnaded edifices facing upon the Place de la Concorde.

This work was entirely achieved when Louis XVI took possession. This monarch, in 1780, caused to be fitted up a most elaborate apartment for the queen (his marriage with Marie Antoinette was consecrated here), but that indeed was all the hand he had in the work of building at Compiegne, which has practically endured as his predecessor left it. The Revolution and Consulate used the chateau as their fancy willed, and rather harshly, but in 1806 its restoration was begun and Charles IV of Spain, upon his dethronement by Napoleon, was installed therein a couple of years later.

The palace, the park and the forest now became a sort of royal appanage of this Spanish monarch, which Napoleon, in a generous spirit, could well afford to will him. He lived here some months and then left precipitately for Ma.r.s.eilles.

Napoleon affected a certain regard for this palatial property, though only occupying it at odd moments. He embellished its surroundings, above all its gardens, in a most lavish manner. Virtually, all things considered, Compiegne is a _Palais Napoleonien_, and if one would study the style of the Empire at its best the thing may be done at Compiegne.

On July 30, 1814, Louis XVIII and Alexander of Russia met at Compiegne amid a throng of Paris notabilities who had come thither for the occasion.

Charles X loved to hunt in the forest of Compiegne. In 1832, one of the daughters of Louis-Philippe, the Princesse Louise, was married to the King of the Belgians in this palace.

From 1852 to 1870 the palace and its grounds were the scenes of many imperial fetes.

Napoleon III had for Compiegne a particular predilection. The prince-president, in 1852, installed himself here for the autumn season, and among his guests was that exquisite blond beauty, Eugenie Montijo, who, the year after, was to become the empress of the French. Faithful to the memory of his uncle, by reason of a romantic sentiment, the Third Napoleon came frequently to Compiegne; or perhaps it was because of the near-by hunt, for he was a pa.s.sionate disciple of Saint Hubert. It was his Versailles!

The palace of Compiegne as seen to-day presents all the cla.s.sic coldness of construction of the reign of Louis XV. Its lines were severe and that the building was inspired by a genius is hard to believe, though in general it is undeniably impressive. Frankly, it is a mocking, decadent eighteenth century architecture that presents itself, but of such vast proportions that one sets it down as something grand if not actually of surpa.s.sing good taste.

In general the architecture of the palace presents at first glance a coherent unit, though in reality it is of several epochs. Its furnis.h.i.+ngs within are of different styles and periods, not all of them of the best. Slender gold chairs, false reproductions of those of the time of Louis XV, and some deplorable tapestries huddle close upon elegant "_bergeres_" of Louis XVI, and sofas, tables and bronzes of master artists and craftsmen are mingled with cheap castings unworthy of a stage setting in a music hall. A process of adroit eviction will some day be necessary to bring these furnis.h.i.+ngs up to a consistent plane of excellence.

One of the facades is nearly six hundred feet in length, with forty-nine windows stretching out in a single range. It might be the front of an automobile factory if it were less ornate, or that of an exposition building were it more beautiful. In some respects it is reminiscent of the Palais Royal at Paris, particularly as to the entrance colonnade and gallery facing the Louvre.

The chief beauty within is undoubtedly the magnificent stairway, with its bal.u.s.trade of wrought iron of the period of Louis XVI. The Salle de Spectacle is of a certain Third Empire-Louis Napoleon distinction, which is saying that it is neither very lovely nor particularly plain, simply ordinary, or, to give it a French turn of phrase, vulgar.

One of the most remarkable apartments is the Salle des Cartes, the old salon of the Aides de Camp, whose walls are ornamented with three great plans showing the roads and by-paths of the forest, and other decorative panels representing the hunt of the time of Louis XV.

The Chambre a Coucher of the great Napoleon is perhaps the most interesting of all the smaller apartments, with its strange bed, which in form more nearly resembles an oriental divan than anything European.

Doubtless it is not uncomfortable as a bed, but it looks more like a tent, or camp, in the open, than anything essentially intended for domestic use within doors. After the great Napoleon, his nephew Napoleon III was its most notable occupant, though it was last slept in by the Tzar Nicholas II, when he visited France in 1901.

The sleeping-room of the Empress Eugenie is fitted up after the style of the early Empire with certain interpolations of the mid-nineteenth century. The most distinct feature here is the battery of linen coffers which Marie Louise had had especially designed and built. The Salon des Dames d'Honneur, with its double rank of nine "scissors chairs," the famous _tabourets de cour_, lined up rigidly before the _canape_ on which the empress rested, is certainly a remarkable apartment. This was the _decor_ of convention that Madame Sans Gene rendered cla.s.sic.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Napoleon's Bedchamber, Compiegne_]

Like all the French national palaces Compiegne has a too abundant collection of Sevres vases set about in awkward corners which could not otherwise be filled, and, beginning with the vestibule, this thing is painfully apparent.

The apartments showing best the Napoleonic style in decorations and furnis.h.i.+ngs are the Salon des Huissiers, the Salle des Gardes, the Escalier d'Apollon, the Salle de Don Quichotte--which contains a series of designs destined to have served for a series of tapestries intended to depict scenes in the life of the windmill knight--the Galerie des Fetes, the Galerie des Cerfs, the Salle Coypel, the Salle des Stucs and the Salon des Fleurs, through which latter one approaches the royal apartments.

In the sixteenth century, or, more exactly, between 1502 and 1510, was constructed Compiegne's handsome Hotel de Ville, one of the most delightful architectural mixtures of Gothic and Renaissance extant. It is an architectural monument of the same cla.s.s as the Palais de Justice at Rouen or the Hotel Cluny at Paris. Its frontispiece is marvellous, the _rez-de-chaussee_ less gracious than the rest perhaps, but with the first story blooming forth as a gem of magnificent proportions and setting. Between the four windows of this first story are posed statuesque effigies of Charles VII, Jeanne d'Arc, Saint Remy and Louis IX. In the centre, in a niche, is an equestrian statue of Louis XII, who reigned when this monument was being built. A _bal.u.s.trade a jour_ finishes off this story, which, in turn, is overhung with a high, peaked gable, and above rise the belfry and its spire, of which the great clock dates from 1303, though only put into place in 1536. The only false note is sounded by the two insignificant, cold and unlovely wings which flank the main structure on either side.

It is a sixteenth century construction unrivalled of its kind in all France, more like a Belgian town-hall belfry than anything elsewhere to be seen outside Flanders, but it is not of the low Spanish-Renaissance order as are so many of the imposing edifices of occidental and oriental Flanders. It is a blend of Gothic and Renaissance, and, what is still more rare, the best of Gothic and the best of Renaissance. Above its facade is a civic belfry, flanked by two slender towers. Within the portal-vestibule rises a monumental stairway which must have been the inspiration of many a builder of modern opera-houses.

Opposite the Hotel Dieu is the poor, rent relic of the Tour de Jeanne d'Arc, originally a cylindrical donjon of the twelfth century, wherein "La Pucelle" was imprisoned in 1430.

Between the palace and the river are to be seen many vestiges of the mediaeval ramparts of the town, and here and there a well-defined base of a gateway or tower. Mediaevalism is rampant throughout Compiegne.

The park surrounding the palace is quite distinct from the wider radius of the Foret de Compiegne. It is of the secular, conventional order, and its perspectives, looking towards the forest from the terrace and vice versa, are in all ways satisfying to the eye.

One of the most striking of these alleyed vistas was laid out under the orders of the first Napoleon in 1810. It loses itself in infinity, almost, its horizon blending with that of the far distant Beaux Monts in the heart of the forest.

In the immediate neighbourhood of the palace are innumerable statues, none of great beauty, value or distinction. On the south side runs a Cours, or Prado, as it would be called in Catalonia. The word Cours is of Provencal origin, and how it ever came to be transplanted here is a mystery. Still here it is, a great tree-shaded promenade running to the river. The climate of Compiegne is never so blazing hot as to make this Cours so highly appreciated as its namesakes in the Midi, but as an exotic accessory to the park it is quite a unique delight.

Within the park may still be traced the outlines of the moat which surrounded the palace of Charles V, as well as some scanty remains of the same period.

Another distinctive feature is the famous _Berceau en Fer_, an iron trellis several thousands of feet in length, which was built by Napoleon I as a reminder to Marie Louise of a similar, but smaller, garden accessory which she had known at Schoenbrunn. It was a caprice, if you like, and rather a futile one since it was before the time when artistically worthless things were the rage just because of their gigantic proportions. Napoleon III cut it down in part, and pruned it to more esthetic proportions, and what there is left, vine and flower grown, is really charming.

The Foret de Compiegne as a historic wildwood goes back to the Druids who practiced their mysterious rites under its antique shade centuries before the coming of the kings, who later called it their own special hunting preserve. Stone hatchets, not unlike the tomahawks of the red man, have been found and traced back--well, definitely to the Stone Age, and supposedly to the time when they served the Druids for their sacrifices.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Cours de Compiegne_]

The soldiers of Caesar came later and their axes were of iron or copper, and though on the warpath, too, their way was one which was supposed to lead civilization into the wilderness. Innumerable traces of the Roman occupation are to be found in the forest by those who know how to read the signs; twenty-five different localities have been marked down by the archeologists as having been stations on the path blazed by the Legions of Rome.

After the Romans came the first of the kings as proprietors of the forest, and in the moyen-age the monks, the barons and the crown itself shared equally the rights of the forest.

Legends of most weird purport are connected with various points scattered here and there throughout the forest, as at the Fosse Dupuis and the Table Ronde, where a sort of "trial by fire" was held by the barons whenever a seigneur among them had conspired against another.

Ariosto, gathering many of his legends from the works of the old French chroniclers, did not disdain to make use of the Foret de Compiegne as a stage setting.

During the reign of Clothaire the forest was known as the Foret de Cuise, because of a royal palace hidden away among the Druid oaks which bore the name of Cotia, or Cusia. Until 1346 the palace existed in some form or other, though shorn of royal dignities. It was at this period that Philippe VI divided the forests of the Valois into three distinct parts in order to better regulate their exploitation.

The Frankish kings being, it would seem, inordinately fond of _la cha.s.se_ the Foret de Compiegne, in the spring and autumn, became their favorite rendezvous. Alcuin, the historian, noted this fact in the eighth century, and described this earliest of royal hunts in some detail. In 715 the forest was the witness of a great battle between the Austrasians and the Neustrians.

Before Francis I with his habitual initiative had pierced the eight great forest roads which come together at the octagon called the Puits du Roi, the forest was not crossed by any thoroughfare; the nearest thing thereto was the Chaussee de Brunhaut, a Roman way which bounded it on the south and east.

Louis XIV and Louis XV, in turn, cut numerous roads and paths, and to the latter were due the crossroads known as the Grand Octagone and the Pet.i.t Octagone.

It was over one of these great forest roads, that leading to Soissons, that Marie Louise, accompanied by a cortege of three hundred persons, eighty conveyances and four hundred and fifty horses, journeyed in a torrential rain, in March 1807, when she came to France to found a dynasty.

A marriage had been consummated by procuration at Vienna, and she set out to actually meet her future spouse for the first time at Soissons.

At the little village of Courcelles, on the edge of the forest between Soissons and Compiegne, two men enveloped in great protecting cloaks had arrived post-haste from Compiegne. At the parish church they stopped a moment and took shelter under the porch, impatiently scanning the horizon. Finally a lumbering _berlin de voyage_ lurched into view, drawn by eight white horses. In its depths were ensconced two women richly dressed, one a beautiful woman of mature years, the other a young girl scarce eighteen years.

The most agitated of the men, he who was clad in a gray redingote, sprang hastily to the carriage door. He was introduced by the older woman as "_Sa Majeste l'Empereur des Francaises, mon frere_." The speaker was one of the sisters of Napoleon, Caroline, Queen of Naples; the other was the Archd.u.c.h.ess Marie Louise, daughter of Franz II, Emperor of Austria.

An imposing ceremonial had been planned for Soissons and the court had been ordered to set out from Compiegne with the emperor, in order to arrive at Soissons in due time. When the actual signal for the departure was given the emperor was nowhere to be found. As usual he had antic.i.p.ated things.

For weeks before the arrival of the empress to be Napoleon had pa.s.sed the majority of his waking hours at Paris in the apartments which he had caused to be prepared for Marie Louise. He selected the colour of the furnis.h.i.+ngs, and superintended the very placing of the furniture. Among other things he had planned a boudoir which alone represented an expenditure of nearly half a million francs.

Lejeune, who had accompanied Marechal Berthier to Vienna to arrange the marriage, had returned and given his imperial master a glowing description of the charms of the young archd.u.c.h.ess who was to be his bride. The emperor compared his ideal with her effigy on medals and miniatures and then worked even more ardently than before that her apartments should be worthy of her when she arrived.

It was just following upon this fever of excitement that Napoleon and the court had repaired to Compiegne. So restless was the emperor that he could hardly bide the time when the archd.u.c.h.ess should arrive, and it was thus that he set out with Murat to meet the approaching cortege.

The pavilion which had been erected for the meeting was left to the citizens of the neighbourhood, and the marvellous banquet which had been prepared by Bausset was likewise abandoned. Napoleon had no time to think of dining.

All the roadside villages between Soissons and Compiegne were hung with banners, and the populace appeared to be as highly excited as the contracting parties. It still rained a deluge, but this made no difference. Two couriers at full gallop came first to Compiegne, crying: "Place": "Place": The eight white horses and the _berlin de voyage_ followed. Before one had hardly time to realize what was pa.s.sing, Napoleon and his bride whisked by in a twinkling.