Showing posts with label Jean-Martin Charcot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jean-Martin Charcot. Show all posts

Tuesday, 21 April 2009

Desperately Seeking Charcot (3)


In the name of the father
Part 1: The House
Part 2: In the name of the son

I’m standing in front of the Charcot mausoleum in the Cimitière de Montmartre. My only company here is a couple of chattering magpies, and all is silence apart from a distant hum of traffic and the breaths of wind passing through the fresh, green leaves of a plane tree. It is a rather austere monument, perhaps not what may be expected for two national heroes, but understandable when we consider that they are in fact invited guests in the tomb of another family. The Laurent-Richard name is more prominent than that of the Charcots, emphasing that Jean-Martin, the father, had married into a clan more powerful and wealthy than his own.

Both Charcot men had died as celebrated figures, and both today lay side by side in this peaceful location. My previous post dealt with Jean-Baptiste, the son, and his path to this final resting place, but I have written little so far about his father. Jean-Baptiste had struggled throughout his life to make the Charcot name his own, but what exactly was the weighty heritage of this exceptional father, and what traces of this man remain in the city today? This end point seemed like a good a place as any to begin.

Jean-Martin Charcot was born in 1825 in the family home at 27 Rue Bleue in the 9th Arrondissement, not far from where his son was later to live. His father owned a carriage building business in the Rue du Faubourg Poissonerie and he was baptised in the Notre Dame de Bonne Nouvelle church. Although his father was little more than a member of the petit bourgeoisie with four sons to support, he nevertheless had sufficient means to send his eldest, Jean-Martin, to the exclusive Pension Sabatier school situated at 9 Rue Richer, a few steps from his home. Here Jean-Martin would learn the classical subjects that would enable him to enter medical school.

Art or medicine? Charcot hesitated.

Charcot though hesitated for a long time between an artistic and medical career. As he was later to say, "si j’ai eu des médecins parmi mes ancêtres, j’ai eu aussi quelques peintres. Entre les deux, mon cÅ“ur balance" (If I had doctors in my family, I also had some painters. My heart is torn between the two). In 1843, though Charcot had decided and began his medical training at the school in the Rue de l’Ecole de Médicine, a building which still stands today as the Université Rene Descartes. He was a good student, but not brilliant, and his medical career was slow to take off. After spending several years bumbling around the lower levels of his profession, it was not until 1862 that he would become the holder of a post at the Salpêtrière hospital.

Part of Charcot's library.

It is at this point that the life of Charcot becomes exceptional. Firmly installed at the Salpêtrière and already specialising in avant-garde studies on neurolgical issues, he now began organising what would become his famous Tuesday morning lectures. His personal life changed too, and in 1864 he married a rich widow, Augustine Victoire Durvis (Laurent) with whom he would have two children. Her finances meant that he would now have the necessary means to support his ambition.

“Un Leçon Clinique à la Salpêtrière” (André Brouillet)

Two places in Paris become important in his life from this period until his death. The Parisot division of the Hopital Salpetrière and the family home, the Hôtel de Varengeville on the Boulevard St Germain. Charcot ran an entire section at the hospital (the newly created School of Neurology) and had a large room in which he would give his lectures. Almost anybody could attend these sessions, and the atmosphere of these extraordinary events was captured by the artist André Brouillet in his painting “Un Leçon Clinique à la Salpêtrière” in 1887*. The walls of this room were covered with photos and paintings of women in trances or suffering from hysteria, mostly for reasons connected to religion. Charcot though was later to be the first person to show that hysteria did not only affect women.

These buildings were sadly demolished in the 1970s, but there are still traces of Charcot in the hospital. A lecture theatre was built in place of Charcot’s rooms, and above this stands a library of neurological and psychological texts which has also become a kind of shrine to the Doctor. The library he had built up at his home is now situtated here, as are his desks, tables and chairs. It is open to the public, but it is rather strange to see these artifacts in and around 1970s concrete.

In 1884, he moved his family to the Hôtel de Varengeville** on the Boulevard Saint Germain. This illustrious eighteenth century rococco palace was a place he could now show off his art collections and intellect, and each Tuesday evening he invited a selection of artists, writers, politicians and statesman for dinner. The most famous visitor of all was perhaps Sigmund Freud who was extemely impressed by the man and his “magic castle”. Freud was later to confess to his wife in a letter that he had been so nervous before his first visit that he took a little cocaine beforehand ‘to loosen (his) tongue’.

By all accounts, Charcot was a charming and persuasive man, but also a domineering and despotic figure. His lectures were almost theatre, with Charcot controlling them like a showman (probably to the detriment of the medicine) whilst his dinners were apparently impressive and stimulating. What was it like to grow up in this environment though? Charcot senior had little pressure on his shoulders when growing up, but his son would have to live with a crushing weight. We can understand Jean-Baptiste’s careful steps in his father’s footprints in his early years, pursuing the same studies through fear of this dominant figure and the comments of the many illustrious visitors to his home. It is to his credit though that he managed such a radical change in his life after the release of his father’s death, and that he succeeded in ensuring that there would always be two Jean Charcots.

*The original of this painting can be seen in a corridor of the René Descartes University near the entrance to the Musée d'Histoire de la Médecine (12 rue de l'École de Médecine), where Charcot had begun his medical studies. The painting shows one of his most famous patients, Blanche Wittman being hypnotised during a hysterical attack. Looking on are some of the most famous names in medicine of the time. Freud always kept a copy of this picture at his desk, and named his first son Jean-Martin after this doctor who had impressed him so much.

**The house today is the Maison de l’Amerique Latine
where you can eat and drink at the chic restaurant and bar. If you are true fan of Charcot, you can even celebrate your wedding here!

Note: I am not qualified to write of Jean-Martin Charcot’s substantial achievements in medicine, and in any case this has been amply documented elsewhere. My primary interest here has simply been to look at the man and father he was, and investigate where he lived, learned and worked in the city.

Wednesday, 15 April 2009

Desperately Seeking Charcot (2)

As the bells of the nearby Trinité church chime in the year 1907, the Cléry family in their home in the Rue de la Tour des Dames are busily preparing a forthcoming marriage. On the 24th of the month, their daughter Marguerite will be marrying a Charcot; Jean-Baptiste, the famous Antarctic explorer! Although she will not be his first wife, it is still an honour to form an attachment with such an illustrious family. After the wedding, Jean-Baptiste will join the clan, bringing his lovely daughter Marion with him to this house.

Jean-Baptiste Charcot was a happy man that year, but it was difficult for him to keep his feet on dry land in a big city. In June he learned that one of his fellow sailors on his most recent expedition was planning a new voyage of his own to Australia in a boat he’d named the Jean-Baptiste Charcot. Sitting at a writing desk in his new home Charcot quickly wrote a letter
of thanks and encouragement to his friend. “Non seulement je vous autorise à donner mon nom à votre bateau mais je vous remercie très vivement d’y avoir songé" (Not only do I give you persmission to use my name for your boat but I also thank you heartily for having thought about doing so). The letter was full of nuggets of advice to the younger man, and it was clear that Jean-Baptiste himself was itching to set sail again.

Jean-Baptiste Charcot was a man who constantly needed projects in his life and who lived as much for the sea as for his new family. His wandering soul had already cost him one wife, Jeanne Hugo the Granddaughter of Victor who filed for divorce on the grounds of desertion during his first polar expedition. Jeanne had previously been the wife of his friend, Leon Daudet, with Charcot marrying her a year after she had divorced from him. Daudet didn’t take this news well at first, and they fought a duel outside a theatre after a rather heated discussion.

Charcot's divorce reported in the New York Times in 1905, showing how well-known he had become. It is interesting to read also that he was believed to be missing, something that surely would have been convenient for his wife Jeanne.

Comfortably installed with his lovely new wife, pregnant now with their first child, Charcot could afford a smile as he looked back on these difficult times. Jeanne was also the name of his elder sister, and after returning from his heroic and successful voyage of discovery to the Antarctic, he was obliged to move in with her. She had also recently experienced disappointment in love, suffering a divorce of her own. Her husband had been the powerful press baron Alfred Edwards, but she would be just a chapter in the life of this man who was to marry five times.

The house at number 11 Rue de la Tour des Dames.

With Marguerite, Jean-Baptiste knew it would be different. She accepted him as he was and was keen to accompany him as much as she could. After their first child, Monique, was born on the 8th of December of the same year, Charcot began preparing for his second voyage to the Antarctic. The first aboard the ‘Français’ between 1903 and 1905 had been a huge success and had brought Charcot fame, perhaps now enabling him to finally escape from the shadow of his father, the world-renowned neurologist Jean-Martin. The second trip would be on his own boat, a ship he’d named the 'Pourquoi Pas'. Nobody really remembered where this name had come from. Had it been used dismissively by his father when he had announced that he wanted to be an explorer and not a doctor? In any case, he had become a doctor like his father wanted, but he had not forgotten his dreams, and the name of this boat was the proof of that. The death of his father had been a tragic event, but it had also cut the chains holding him back and had provided him with 400,000 gold Francs to set sail in his new direction.

What he knew was that he would make the Charcot name his own. As a child at school he had always been concerned that “qu’etant le fils de papa, on ne me prenne pour un fils à papa” (as the boy of my daddy that they would also see me as a daddy’s boy). To escape from this shadow he excelled in all he did, going as far as playing in a French national rugby final. As long as his father lived he followed loyally in his path, but now he would really create his own destiny.

On the 19th November 1908, both Jean-Baptiste and Marguerite had left their home in Paris and were about to leave Le Havre on the Pourquoi Pas. The two daughters of Jean-Baptiste would stay in the family home with the Clérys and Marguerite, known now to everybody as Meg, would accompany her husband as far as Puntas Arenas in Chile, in an official role as painter and observer.

Meg would be back in Paris in early 1909, but Jean-Baptiste did not return until the following year. It had been another successful mission, but Jean-Baptiste came back much weakened after having suffered from scurvy. In 1911 though there was another happy event, the birth of their second and Jean-Baptiste’s third child; another girl, Martine, named surely after her Grandfather.

The Commandant Jean-Baptiste Charcot aboard the Pourquoi Pas.

After this period it would seem that the Cléry-Charcots lived in a variety of places but not often in Paris. There was still the Charcot family home in Neuilly on the outskirts of Paris, and his role in the French navy meant that he was often in St Malo and Cherbourg. In the First World War he was based in the UK and was awarded a Distinguished Service Cross by the British Government after commanding a Q-Boat for them. The family also later bought another house, a wooden holiday retreat in Aix Les Bains.

In 1931, Meg finally inherited the house in the Rue de la Tour des Dames, but it is not clear whether they lived there or not. By 1936, Charcot was planning his last trip, this time north to Iceland. He was 69 now, and as he explained, “Le Pourquoi Pas, il est vieux, moi aussi et surtout, tout le monde s’en fout" (The Pourquoi Pas is old and so am I, and above all, nobody cares anymore). It was an ordinary, unexceptional project, but it seemed fated to go wrong. Charcot had previously said to a young sailor that “si c’etait pas pour ma famille, j’aimerais mieux crever en mer” (if it wasn’t for my family I’d rather die at sea). On the 16th of September, the Pourquoi Pas was caught in a violent tempest and quickly sunk. There was just one survivor amongst the crew, and the last thing he remembered of Charcot was seeing him set free the caged seagull which had been the ship’s mascot. Charcot’s body was recovered and he was given a state funeral back in Paris then buried in the Montmartre Cemetery. He now lays alongside his father Jean-Martin and mother Augustine, his loving, loyal second wife Meg, his daughter Marion and their youngest daughter Martine.

Additional Notes:
Marguerite (Meg) Cléry-Charcot sold the house to the Caisse Régionale de Secours Mutuels Agricoles de l’Ile de France in 1939 for 760,000 Francs. It was at this point, one hundred years after it had been built, that it was transformed into offices.

Jean-Baptiste Charcot outlived his first daughter Marion who died in 1927 aged only 32.

Marguerite (Meg) Cléry-Charcot died in 1960 aged 86. She had been made Chevalier de la Legion d’Honneur after her husband’s death. A member of the Charcot family still lives in the house in Neuilly, and still uses the house in Aix Les Bains. The house in Aix Les Bains is also apparently available for holiday rentals, although no mention is made of the Charcot connection!

Tuesday, 14 April 2009

Desperately Seeking Charcot (1)

I love a good mystery, especially one that sends me inwards and outwards on twisting paths of discovery. This one started last November when I wrote about a house on the Rue de la Tour des Dames that I found interesting and attractive, but for which I had little information. One reader suggested that it had belonged to Dr Charcot, a famous name which immediately caught my attention, but which I found impossible to confirm. Later, I was contacted by the Head of the CLEISS agency, currently housed in the building, who invited me to take a tour around the inside of the structure. Would a visit to the house clear up the mystery?

What is the history of this house and did a Charcot live here? From this point on, the story becomes a tale of two Charcots, both called Jean and both Doctors. Jean-Martin, the father, is arguably better known today than his son, Jean-Baptiste, certainly in the field of medicine. Was this his house? The information I had confirmed a home in Neuilly and a residence on the Boulevard Saint Germain, but no mention of a dwelling in the Rue de la Tour des Dames. However, a quick check of the bible of Paris history, Hillairet’s 'Dictionnaire historique des rues de Paris' confirms that this house ‘fut habité après son marriage par le docteur Charcot’ (was lived in after his marriage by the Doctor Charcot). But which Doctor Charcot?

Jean-Yves Hocquet met me at the entrance to the house one lunchtime and very kindly gave me a tour around the property. The portes cochères lead through to a garden and stables, today converted into a car park and additional offices, with the rear of the house featuring an attractive veranda. The Flemish theme seen in the brick and gables of the exterior is continued inside, with dark, mahogony wood prevailing on staircases and window frames. All the original rooms are today used as offices, but the original features, marble fireplaces and painted ceilings, are still visible behind the desks, computers and photocopiers. It's an interesting 19th century dwelling, but with little exceptional on display.

Mr Hocquet also confirmed a Charcot connection at the property, but could not give me any dates, and there was no traces of the Charcot name anywhere to be seen inside the house. It was fascinating to see inside a private building when many of my observations are necessarily limited to the exterior only, but sometimes the guts tell us little more than the skeleton has already revealed, and that was the case here. It was time to find another way to solve the mystery.

The Archives de Paris, Boulevard Sérurier, 75019

With books and websites there is always a concern about the reliability of the information. Are the writers merely passing on erroneous details from other writers? The only place that could truly offer an answer to my question was the Archives de Paris, a building which stores two centuries of documents on individuals, buildings and taxation. It is also a fascinating place to spend an afternoon, pouring over and touching heavy, official documents from previous centuries, trying to make sense of the often tiny, dense text inscribed on the pages.

I first find a trace of the building in a taxation document from the 1850s. It was seemingly built and owned by the Comte Leblanc de Chateauvillard, who himself lived at 60, Rue St Lazare which bordered the property to the rear. Apparently it was not always a salubrious building. A note in the document reads "Cette maison construite en 1833 est très mal tenue. Il n’y a point de concierge et les locataires demanagent la plupart du temps sans payer leur loyer" (This building built in 1833 is in a very poor state. There is no housekeeper and the tenants move out most of the time without paying their rent). By the 1876 survey though the situation was more stable. It was now in the hands of the Cléry family who lived in the house themselves, and a housekeeper is listed in the document. A much later document though, this time from the mid-twentieth century, gives me the answer I was looking for. One of the Cléry offspring, Marguerite, who would later inherit the house, changed her name to Charcot. But which Charcot had she married?

See also: Desperately Seeking Charcot (2)
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