The political history of France during the closing years of the eighteenth century; the events which led up to the execution of Louis the Sixteenth and his queen; the state of chaos that followed the downfall of the monarchy, and the work of Napoleon to reduce that chaos to order, must all be so fresh in the memory of the reader that it is not at all necessary to re-tell the story here. All that we need do is to bear it well in mind, keep the facts before us, and see, so far as we can, to what extent the applied arts of France were influenced by them, and, above all, by the dominating spirit of that Little Corporal who discovered something far more precious in his knapsack than the traditional baton du marechal.

That the art of France was revolutionised for a time, together with everything else associated with the country, through the dictatorship of that colossal mind, no one can possibly deny; and it is more than a little interesting to see by what instrumentality the radical changes which took place were really brought about, and to study that which has been handed down to posterity as the outward and visible sign of it all. We have no foundation for the assumption that Napoleon himself was an artist in any sense of the word, but it is clear that he appreciated the fact that, for his sway to be completely effectual, he must surround himself by material pomp and grandeur, that the eyes of his subjects should be dazzled by his splendour, and their minds overpowered by his magnificence. It is not too much to assert, indeed, that the theatrical element was strongly apparent, and intentionally so, throughout almost everything he did; and that being the case, the preparation of the mise en scene was regarded as a question of paramount importance.

When, in 1799, on the memorable 18th Brumaire, Napoleon overthrew the Directory and caused himself to be nominated First Consul, there were State residences enough for himself and Josephine. But the mark of the Revolution had been indelibly impressed upon them all, and a vast scheme of restoration had to be carried out before they could be expected to meet with the approbation of their new occupants. The question was, then, in what manner were they to be restored? Was the old order of things to be revived? Let us recall, for a moment, the story told by the then existent remnants of the glories which had so recently passed away. Shattered as many of them were through the mis-directed zeal of the sans-culottes, these old palaces, with their tottering walls, powder-begrimed gilding, and splintered furniture, were haunted by souvenirs of the "doll monarchs," whose heads had fallen at the command of the populace; of the "Well-Beloved," whose corpse was followed to its last resting-place with curses; of "Le Grand Monarque," whose great work of reconstruction had been so nullified by the puerility of his successors. We see there, in imagination, the shade of Richelieu, cursing the weakness of the fallen sovereigns; of Mazarin bemoaning the loss of his hoarded treasure; Anne of Austria weeping over the fate of her children; Philip of Orleans hunting for his rouge pots; Madame de Maintenon and poor La Valliere, Jeanne-Antoinette du Pompadour, and the ill-fated Du Barry, wringing their hands; while the sweet strains of Lully seem to mingle with the echoes.

Such were the memories which were kept green by all that remained of the decoration and furnishing of the residences and palaces to enter which Napoleon had won the right in council - or at the point of the sword: memories most hateful to him, and, through his influence, to the country at large. These memories, therefore, had to go, together with everything that might be calculated to revive them. But what was to take their place, and from whom was the inspiration for a fitting substitute to come? That was the question which presented itself to the First Consul, and he did with it as he did with every other question that submitted itself to him - settled it. Palaces were waiting restoration, and paintings wanted replacing, which, of course, meant that architects and painters must be found to superintend the task. They must, moreover, be architects and painters whose past records justified the assumption that they might be relied upon to breathe into their work the Imperial Spirit which dominated the mind of the great Empire Builder.