see the Marquis d'Espard. This day lost was, to this affair, what on
the Day of Dupes the cup of soup had been, taken by Marie de Medici,
which, by delaying her meeting with Louis XIII., enabled Richelieu to
arrive at Saint-Germain before her, and recapture his royal slave.
Before accompanying the
lawyer and his registering clerk to the
Marquis d'Espard's house, it may be as well to glance at the home and
the private affairs of this father of sons whom his wife's petition
represented to be a madman.
Here and there in the old parts of Paris a few buildings may still be
seen in which the
archaeologist can
discern an
intention of decorating
the city, and that love of property, which leads the owner to give a
durable
character to the
structure. The house in which M. d'Espard was
then living, in the Rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve, was one of
these old mansions, built in stone, and not
devoid of a certain
richness of style; but time had blackened the stone, and revolutions
in the town had damaged it both outside and inside. The dignitaries
who
formerly dwelt in the
neighborhood of the University having
disappeared with the great
ecclesiastical foundations, this house had
become the home of industries and of inhabitants whom it was never
destined to shelter. During the last century a printing establishment
had worn down the polished floors, soiled the carved wood, blackened
the walls, and altered the
principalinternal arrangements. Formerly
the
residence of a Cardinal, this fine house was now divided among
plebeian tenants. The
character of the
architecture showed that it had
been built under the reigns of Henry III., Henry IV., and Louis XIII.,
at the time when the hotels Mignon and Serpente were erected in the
same
neighborhood, with the palace of the Princess Palatine, and the
Sorbonne. An old man could remember having heard it called, in the
last century, the hotel Duperron, so it seemed
probable that the
illustrious Cardinal of that name had built, or perhaps merely lived
in it.
There still exists, indeed, in the corner of the
courtyard, a perron
or
flight of several outer steps by which the house is entered; and
the way into the garden on the garden front is down a similar
flightof steps. In spite of dilapidations, the
luxury lavished by the
architect on the balustrade and entrance porch crowning these two
perrons suggests the simple-minded purpose of commemorating the
owner's name, a sort of sculptured pun which our ancestors often
allowed themselves. Finally, in support of this evidence,
archaeologists can still
discern in the medallions which show on the
principal front some traces of the cords of the Roman hat.
M. le Marquis d'Espard lived on the ground floor, in order, no doubt,
to enjoy the garden, which might be called
spacious for that
neighborhood, and which lay open for his children's health. The
situation of the house, in a street on a steep hill, as its name
indicates, secured these ground-floor rooms against ever being damp.
M. d'Espard had taken them, no doubt, for a very
moderate price, rents
being low at the time when he settled in that quarter, in order to be
among the schools and to
superintend his boys' education. Moreover,
the state in which he found the place, with everything to
repair, had
no doubt induced the owner to be accommodating. Thus M. d'Espard had
been able to go to some expense to settle himself suitably without
being accused of
extravagance. The loftiness of the rooms, the
paneling, of which nothing survived but the frames, the
decoration of
the ceilings, all displayed the
dignity which the prelacy stamped on
whatever it attempted or created, and which artists
discern to this
day in the smallest relic that remains, though it be but a book, a
dress, the panel of a
bookcase, or an armchair.
The Marquis had the rooms painted in the rich brown tones loved of the
Dutch and of the citizens of Old Paris, hues which lend such good
effects to the
painter of genre. The panels were hung with plain paper
in
harmony with the paint. The window curtains were of inexpensive
materials, but chosen so as to produce a generally happy result; the
furniture was not too
crowded and judiciously placed. Any one on going
into this home could not
resist a sense of sweet peacefulness,
produced by the perfect calm, the
stillness which prevailed, by the
unpretentious unity of color, the keeping of the picture, in the words
a
painter might use. A certain nobleness in the details, the exquisite
cleanliness of the furniture, and a perfect
concord of men and things,
all brought the word "suavity" to the lips.
Few persons were admitted to the rooms used by the Marquis and his two
sons, whose life might perhaps seem
mysterious to their neighbors. In