The British Embassy in Paris on the Day of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, August 24, 1572. The engraving is after Calderon's painting, that he exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1863, no. 378. These lines in the catalogue accompanied the painting: "Even Sir Francis Walsingham…had been unable to penetrate any part of the bloody secret, etc." The engraving appeared in Harper's Weekly, Supplement, 3 June 1876. [Click on the image to enlarge it.]
The St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre began in Paris on August 24, 1572 when Catholics slaughtered French Protestants (Huguenots) fearing a Huguenot uprising following the attempted assassination of Gaspard II de Coligny, Admiral of France, and a leading Protestant. The massacre followed years of religious upheaval in France and ultimately left thousands dead.
When the picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1863 The Art Journal critic felt Calderon's performance was such that it merited him being selected as one of the next Associates of the Royal Academy:
Mr. Calderon follows up the achievements of recent years by a picture evincing a thought and maturity of manner which cannot fail to obtain recognition on the next election of new associates. The British Embassy in Paris on the day of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, August 24, 1572 (378), reaches the calm dignity which befits historic narrative. The spectator is introduced to a stately room in the British Embassy, and from the windows he may discover the two towers of Notre Dame rising above the other edifices in the city. Sir Francis Walsingham, the English ambassador, has been taken by surprise by the massacre, yet his house was held inviolable; and we are now summoned by the painter to this chief apartment, the sanctuary where our countrymen and countrywomen had sought refuge for safety. Sir Francis, "cautious and crafty and sagacious," walks across the floor, evidently chagrined in finding himself a dupe; yet, though the massacre is raging at its height, his habitual composure does not forsake him. A company, gathered at the window, look with horror on the carnage which welters in the street beneath, and seem to vow revenge. A group of women in the centre of the picture are clasped in agony. Such is the tragedy which Mr. Calderon depicts with a pencil that swerves not one moment from its purpose. The drawing is firm in all material points, but the execution, without the descending to utmost finish, might with advantage have shown further detail. [106-07]
When the painting was exhibited at the Exhibition Universelle in Paris in 1867 a critic for The Saturday Review admired it less than Calderon's other submission: "Mr. Calderon exhibits the child-queen of last year's Academy, Her Most High, Noble, and Puissant Grace and The English Embassy at Paris, the Night of the St. Bartholomew. The first picture was duly noted by us when it appeared, and in very favourable terms, from which a renewed acquaintance with it does not dispose us to make any deduction. The second strikes us less favourably, though it has more animated action. The fine young figures of the English attachés, excited by the horror of what is passing in the street, are noble and energetic enough, and the gravity of the elder men, and the prostrate fear of the women, are very dramatically given" (499).
Bibliography
"Pictures in the Paris Exhibition." The Saturday Review XXIII (April 20, 1867): 498-500.
"The Royal Academy." The Art Journal New Series II (June 1, 1863): 105-116.
Created 19 July 2023