etiere de la Chapelle Marcadet which was used during the siege of
1871, are now occupied by commercial or secular establishments. Among
those the sites of which are still recognizable are Saint-Vincent and
Saint-Pierre at Montmartre; Saint-Medard--so famous in the last century
as the scene of the extravagances of the convulsionnaires and the
alleged miracles on the tomb of the Jansenist deacon, Paris--has been
only partially destroyed by the opening of the Avenue des Gobelins; and
on the old Cimetiere de la Madeleine now rises the Chapelle Expiatoire
to the memory of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette.
[Illustration: A CORNER IN THE CEMETERY OF PERE-LACHAISE: TOMBS OF
COUTURE, THE PAINTER; LEDRU-ROLLIN, THE STATESMAN; COUSIN, THE
PHILOSOPHER; AND AUBER, THE COMPOSER.
Drawn from a photograph.]
Each of the great cemeteries, both within and without the walls, is
under the charge of a _conservateur_, having under him a receiver or
steward, a surveyor, clerks, guardians, and grave-diggers. The guards,
who number in all a hundred and thirty-five, including five brigadiers
and fifteen sous-brigadiers, have all been sworn into office and are
empowered to draw up proces-verbaux. The landscape-gardening of the
cemeteries is all under the direction of the _service des promenades_,
and the municipal administration of the city of Paris takes a laudable
pride in maintaining the picturesqueness and attractiveness of these
places of sepulchre. Many of the tombs, or funerary monuments, are
preserved through legacies or donations, and the city assumes the care
of others possessing an historical or patriotic interest, as those of
Abelard and Heloise, of Moliere, of La Fontaine, of Casimir Perier, and
the "four sergeants of La Rochelle." Consequently, the cemeteries of the
capital are, distinctly, one of the features of the city,--Pere-Lachaise,
particularly, is a most curious, picturesque, original, and
characteristic "sight," and, alike on the day of Toussaints when they
are visited by the populace almost _en masse_, and when they receive the
solitary funeral procession winding slowly through the streets, the
carriages followed by a long train of mourners on foot, they may be said
to be truly representative institutions of this people with whom we are
for the moment concerned.
"The people of Paris," says M. Henry Havard, "are, assuredly, the most
extraordinary people that there are in the world. [This, of course; no
reference to the
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