PARK AND CEMETERY 
494 
The Cemeteries of Paris. 
NCLOSED by the 
walls of Paris lies a 
little world, so in- 
dividual in its fea- 
tures that no com- 
parisons are possi- 
ble. The people 
who move about 
within that enclos- 
ure are only satis- 
fied when develop- 
inor their own ideas 
o 
and listen to no 
suggestion or ad- 
vice from the out- 
side world. This 
individuality is nowhere more clearly shown than in 
their funeral rites. All their burial ceremonies are so 
distinctly French, there is so little of what we think 
important expressed in their cemetery constructions, 
that there is not much for the monument makers of 
the new world to borrow, except the lofty style and 
feeling for good proportions which distinguish all 
their architectural work. 
Paris possesses twenty-two burial grounds, of 
which the most important are Pere-Lachaise, Mont- 
martre and Montparnasse, in three different quarters 
of the town, all situated on elevated ground, giving 
fine views, and for this reason the scene of sanguinary 
conflicts at different times between opposing military 
forces for the possession of the city. Each of these 
cemeteries is the burial place of its quarter, but per- 
sons of distinction from all parts of the city are gener- 
ally interred at Pere-Lachaise. This is the largest 
and most interesting of the three, but its aspect is 
as different from that of our notable cemeteries as 
can be imagined. A true city of the dead, with 
streets and avenues like that of the living, the houses 
in regular blocks, giving the effect of an ancient 
town deserted of its inhabitants. One will find it a 
grewsome adventure to be lost in wandering about 
these winding streets, with nothing but the closed 
doors of the houses of the myriad dead on either hand. 
The imagination prefers the beautiful parks of our 
own country and in spite of the wealth of art in statue 
and relief which one sees here, the landscape feature 
of American cemeteries embellished here and there 
with a decorative memorial, is much more agreeable. 
All burials within the city are undertaken by the 
Compagnie des Pompes Finiebres, with a regulated 
tariff of charges varying from sixty cents to fifteen 
hundred dollars, exclusive of the price of the coffin, 
which costs from nine to twelve dollars. A civil in- 
terment costs as low as $i.8o. 
A funeral is as distinctively French as anything 
you see in Paris. The officials in charge have a pe- 
culiar dress and hat, and there is always a procession, 
— the mourners following the hearse on foot. The 
hearse has open sides and the coffin is seen by the 
passer, covered by a pall and many “couronnes,” or 
wreaths made of glass beads. It is the invariable 
custom for men to take off their hats as the body 
passes them in the street even in the busiest quarter. 
The wreaths made in imitation of flowers from 
glass beads strung on wires, are used so extensively 
at funerals and for cemetery decorations that their 
manufacture is a great industry. Of elaborate shapes 
and startling colors, composed of flowers not known 
by the botanist, they have only their durability to 
recommend them. How such an artistic people as the 
French can accept these cheap and tawdry substitutes 
for the flowers of nature is surprising. 
The monument man and the seller of wreaths crowd 
around the entrance to the cemetery as they do with 
us, but in greater numbers. Most of the cemetery 
work is done at the instance and from the drawings of 
an architect, and there are none of those large com- 
panies such as we have, carrying on complete and ag- 
gressive establishments, which set the style and de- 
termine the character of monumental art. The busi- 
ness seems to be a lower form of the building busi- 
ness, and as most of the tombs are small buildings, 
this would be but natural. In their show-rooms they 
have on view some flat ledger tombs of polished Fin- 
land granite and small carved granite work, but in 
their “chartiers,” or workshops, the stone cutting is 
generally limestone. Their business is designated that 
of a “marbrier,” or marble cutter, as with us, but the 
evolution of the business has carried them into the use 
of another material, a limestone much like the Indiana 
stone, but of a finer grain and whiter and much softer, 
at least when freshly quarried. This limestone is set 
up in squared blocks in these tombs, and when in po- 
sition, cut and carved and finally planed, much as a 
carpenter might plane wood, which leaves it with a 
beautiful surface. Granite seems to be imported al- 
ready worked. The business of the “marbrier” and 
that of the sculptor seem to be more clearly separated 
than with us, and this is probably due to the fact that 
architects determine the character of the work and 
choose the different workmen to execute it. But 
while this plan may do away with incongruities which 
seem to be absent from the French cemeteries, we can- 
not help but feel that monumental art carried on by a 
body of earest men entirely devoted to its service will 
develop a more satisfactory character than when left 
to men who consider it a trivial branch of their busi- 
ness to be abandoned as soon as possible for larger 
and more elaborate work. Ora Coltman. 
TOMB IN CEMETERY OF MONT- 
MARTRE, PARIS. 
