But, in any case, whatever may be the future of architecture, in whatever
manner our young architects may one day solve the question of their art,
let us, while waiting for new monument, preserve the ancient
monuments. Let us, if possible, inspire the nation with a love for national
architecture. That, the author declares, is one of the principal aims of
this book; it is one of the principal aims of his life.
"Notre-Dame-de-Paris" has, perhaps opened some true perspectives on
the art of the Middle Ages, on that marvellous art which up to the
present time has been unknown to some, and, what is worse, misknown
by others. But the author is far from regarding as accomplished, the task
which he has voluntarily imposed on himself. He has already pleaded on
more than one occasion, the cause of our ancient architecture, he has
already loudly denounced many profanations, many demolitions, many
impieties. He will not grow weary. He has promised himself to recur
frequently to this subject. He will return to it. He will be as indefatigable
in defending our historical edifices as our iconoclasts of the schools and
academies are eager in attacking them; for it is a grievous thing to see
into what hands the architecture of the Middle Ages has fallen, and in
what a manner the botchers of plaster of the present day treat the ruin of
this grand art, it is even a shame for us intelligent men who see them at
work and content ourselves with hooting them. And we are not speaking
here merely of what goes on in the provinces, but of what is done in Paris
at our very doors, beneath our windows, in the great city, in the lettered
city, in the city of the press, of word, of thought. We cannot resist the
impulse to point out, in concluding this note, some of the acts of
vandalism which are every day planned, debated, begun, continued, and
successfully completed under the eyes of the artistic public of Paris, face
to face with criticism, which is disconcerted by so much audacity. An
archbishop's palace has just been demolished, an edifice in poor taste, no
great harm is done; but in a block with the archiepiscopal palace a
bishop's palace has been demolished, a rare fragment of the fourteenth
century, which the demolishing architect could not distinguish from the
rest. He has torn up the wheat with the tares; 'tis all the same. They are
talking of razing the admirable chapel of Vincennes, in order to make,
with its stones, some fortification, which Daumesnil did not need,
however. While the Palais Bourbon, that wretched edifice, is being
repaired at great expense, gusts of wind and equinoctial storms are
allowed to destroy the magnificent painted windows of the Sainte-
Chapelle. For the last few days there has been a scaffolding on the tower
of Saint Jacques de la Boucherie; and one of these mornings the pick will
be laid to it. A mason has been found to build a little white house
between the venerable towers of the Palais de-Justice. Another has been
found willing to prune away Saint-Germain-des-Pres, the feudal abbey
with three bell towers. Another will be found, no doubt, capable of
pulling down Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois. All these masons claim to be
architects, are paid by the prefecture or from the petty budget, and wear
green coats. All the harm which false taste can inflict on good taste, they
accomplish. While we write, deplorable spectacle! one of them holds
possession of the Tuileries, one of them is giving Philibert Delorme a
scar across the middle of his face; and it is not, assuredly, one of the least
of the scandals of our time to see with what effrontery the heavy
architecture of this gentleman is being flattened over one of the most
delicate façades of the Renaissance!
PARIS, October 20, 1832.