FROM THE BEGINNING of the German occupation, the enemy was wary of weapon ownership by the French. While the Germans would have liked to forbid it altogether, they acknowledged the necessity for French law enforcement officials, at least until the last weeks of the occupation of Paris in 1944. However, they had confiscated most weapons at the art depots in 1940, although a few depots were allowed to retain a minimal number of pistols. By the fall of 1943, Germans had become increasingly suspicious that Resistance weapons were being stashed at the depots. In October, Kunstschutz head Tieschowitz had warned Jaujard that local German military authorities now had the authority to search any depot for clandestine supplies, including weapons. Tieschowitz was clear to specify that if they discovered any such items—even one—there would be serious ramifications for the art at every depot. Soon thereafter, Tieschowitz warned Jaujard that the searches would soon begin, at any time and without warning. Jaujard, knowing the depots often harbored Resistance activity, told the depot heads in no uncertain terms to make quite sure there were no problematic materials on the premises.
KUNSTSCHUTZ HEAD BERNHARD VON TIESCHOWITZ (LEFT) AND FELIX KUETGENS
The German military carried out the threat of inspections, but only tentatively, demanding crates be opened at only one provincial depot. Soldiers armed with submachine guns demanded entrance to several other depots and then simply looked over the unopened crates. By December the Germans had upped the ante, announcing that searches would include not only rooms where artwork was stored but also entire châteaux in which they were located, plus any outbuildings and any lodgings of personnel. And, they said, each depot head would be held personally responsible for any infraction of the rules. This led to a flood of protest by the curators and Jaujard, who, in turn, pointed out to Hautecoeur that the curators had no way of knowing what was in the crates from provincial collections, nor did they have any control over what might be stored in areas of a château under the control of its owners. And, he said, artworks could be easily damaged if unqualified individuals opened the crates for inspection. Jaujard pressed the Kunstschutz’s Felix Kuetgens for a formalized and less onerous arrangement and for more weapons for the depots.
On January 5, 1944, a day after Kuetgens met with Bonnard’s representative, he met with Jaujard and Billiet. First they discussed the matter of inspections. Jaujard prevailed somewhat in his push for a more reasonable and enforceable inspection protocol. Kuetgens said he had obtained official military approval for a new arrangement by which, among other measures, only qualified French personnel would open crates and any inspections would be conducted in the presence of both a Kunstschutz representative and the depot head. The new arrangement would not prevent inspections, but it would at least mean they would not be conducted by unpredictable German troops; as importantly, they would no longer be spontaneous because, to have all required parties on hand, advance notice would be required.
Kuetgens and Jaujard also discussed the issue of weapons for protection of the depots. The previous day, Kuetgens had told Bonnard’s representative that, after consultation with German military, he had concluded that the few weapons in the hands of the depot guards were not powerful enough for adequate defense. Only heavy arms would do, he said, and these would not only be impossible to provide; they would also present a danger to the depots. He told Bonnard’s representative that the guards should not be armed. But in his meeting with Jaujard, Kuetgens inexplicably relayed a different message, saying that military authorities had favorably considered Jaujard’s request for additional weapons but that the type of any permissible weapons had not yet been determined.
During the meeting, Kuetgens also raised the issue of returning the Louvre’s principal masterpieces back to Paris. It would reduce attempts at theft, he said, if they were sheltered in a “specially chosen location such as the basements of the Banque de France.” Jaujard knew there had never been any attempts at theft, except, arguably, by Abetz, Ribbentrop and Göring. And Paris was surely not a safe place for the art; it was perhaps one of the most significant potential targets for military action in all of France. Moreover, the proposal sounded quite familiar; it was the same one Abetz had made in June 1940. It was apparent that Kuetgens had been instructed to relay a message from higher in the German hierarchy and that there was a far more worrisome motivation behind the new proposal: the Germans knew they were losing their grip on France and simply wanted the artwork closer at hand where they might more easily grab it.
Jaujard replied by pointing out the risk of Paris bombing. He also said that while locations such as the basement vaults of the Banque de France might protect against bombing, they were not safe places for the art. He reminded Kuetgens that when the Louvre’s pastels were sheltered in the Banque de France in 1940, they had to be removed due to detrimental conditions. Moreover, Jaujard added, such an arrangement would undermine their ability to monitor the artwork. He also pointed out that the arrangement would violate the agreement about control over the treasures that had been made with the Kunstschutz long before.
After agreeing with Jaujard’s arguments, Kuetgens suggested that, instead, perhaps the principal masterpieces could be gathered together at one of the existing depots. Jaujard responded that this would create an unacceptable concentration of risk. But he knew that Kuetgens had to bring some kind of concession back to German higher-ups. The two men agreed on a two-point proposal to enhance the security of the depots. Special contingents of government police would do exterior monitoring and the large number of provincial depots would be reduced, which would also allow surveillance efforts to be concentrated.
If Jaujard felt that he had dodged another German bullet, he was wrong. On January 12, Hautecoeur came to see Jaujard at the Louvre to inform him that French Minister of Education Bonnard had approved the German measure to return the masterpieces to Paris and would be sending a written order to Hautecoeur to that effect.
Jaujard wanted to know what happened to the agreement he and Kuetgens had made. Had Kuetgens’ superior, Tieschowitz, overruled the Jaujard–Kuetgens proposal or was the decision the work of Bonnard? Late the following afternoon, he headed over to the German offices of the Kunstschutz in the Hôtel Majestic to speak directly with Tieschowitz. Tieschowitz, who had always before proven to be both reasonable and inclined to support the French, told Jaujard he had agreed with the plan Kuetgens and Jaujard had made. Thus its undoing had been strictly the work of Bonnard and further evidence that the proposal to return the works had been floated from the top of the German hierarchy. Curator René Huyghe later said Bonnard “adhered without hesitation to German decisions;” his quick support of the German desire to return the artworks to Paris was yet another example.
The same day, Hautecoeur relayed a message to Jaujard from Bonnard, who wanted, as soon as possible, a report on where and how the artworks might be sheltered in Paris. In his reply, Jaujard described his concerns in detail. He noted that given the risk of heavy bombing of Paris, the only safe shelters for art would be deep ones, such as the vaults of the Banque de France. But, again citing the damaging 1940 experience with the pastels at the bank, he added that the air-conditioning problems and resulting humidity at the bank had only gotten worse. He warned that the humidity would be damaging not only to the paintings, but also to wooden objects and ancient objects of stone or bronze. And, he noted, all the antiquities required constant monitoring and many of them needed regular care, neither of which would occur under the proposed arrangement. Jaujard also said it was a contradiction to suggest the return of the artworks to a city with a serious bombing risk since the Germans themselves had supported the evacuation of the works from Montauban when that city became a bombing risk near the end of 1942.
Jaujard also included an analysis by the head architect of the Louvre. The report supported Jaujard’s argument that only a deep shelter could provide safety from all bombs, but noted that an appropriate shelter for the artworks would also need to provide heating, aeration and the ability to humidify or dry the air according to the specific needs of the artwork. Storage at the Banque of France would be irresponsible, he said. Likewise, he added, the basements of the Louvre would not be an adequate shelter. Some areas were not strong enough to protect against bombs and other had dangerous fluctuations in humidity levels. Still others had gas, water, electric and steam pipes weaving through them that could rupture upon a bomb hit and cause damage to the artworks worse than from a bomb itself.
Jaujard sent the report to Hautecoeur who, in turn, passed it along to Bonnard along with additional concerns. If the artworks were too concentrated in one location, he noted, “it is up to the Government to decide” whether protection by local authorities would be adequate in case of an invasion by a foreign force or removal by force for political reasons or in the case of other disruptions. And, he said, there were additional reasons to be concerned about bombing in Paris. Strong exterior security around the Louvre could be assured, he acknowledged, but such security could not protect the museum from bombing. He reminded Bonnard of the plane that had crashed near the Louvre and of the shell that had passed through the museum roof and just missed the Antioch mosaic. And he wrote of bombs that had hit artists’ ateliers near Montparnasse, just moments away from the Louvre by air. He said the only feasible solution would be to construct a special bomb shelter that would cost far beyond the current budget for the protection of the artworks. In conclusion, he said, he was perplexed, asking whether it made sense to expose the art to almost certain damage in Paris. The decision, he said, was up to Bonnard.
No immediate word came from Bonnard and for the next several weeks, Jaujard and Kunstschutz representatives finalized details of the plan to reduce the number of provincial depots and add additional guards. On February 3, Jaujard notified Hautecœur that he had reached an agreement with the Kunstschutz and that the Kunstschutz had dismissed the German proposal to return the masterpieces to Paris. Several days later, Hautecoeur relayed the update to Bonnard.
On February 12, Bonnard broke his silence. He could no longer refute the logic of Jaujard and the Louvre’s architect, but he was still determined to support the German wish to bring the artwork closer so he offered a new counterproposal: why not move the depots to the east of France? Though there were no depots there, he said, it appeared to be the most favorable location. But favorable for whom? Certainly not for the French, who throughout the war had kept the artworks as far as possible from the German border. But certainly more favorable for the Germans, who would be well-poised to launch a mass kidnapping of the art across that border when the timing was right. In Montal, René Huyghe and the maquis developed a detailed contingency plan to re-kidnap the Louvre’s paintings from German trucks and hide them in the high limestone plateaus of France’s Massif Central.
On February 15, Jaujard provided five pages full of objections to Hautecœur, knowing that they would be relayed to Bonnard. He argued that the identification of acceptable areas for depot locations had always been made by military specialists before the Occupation and that subsequent locations had required the approval of the Kunstschutz. In addition, depots had to meet specific criteria, such as having large, secure rooms, easy access for the artworks and a ready water source; certain regions no longer had any available buildings meeting these requirements. Further, there were insufficient quantities of trucks and fuel to move it all. Moreover, he said, even if these resources could be found, it would not be in the interest of the artworks to move them over long distances or close to industrial areas, both of which had always been a factor in evacuation decisions. He pointed out that eastern France was a great distance from the current depots and was home to much industry, making the area a military target. Jaujard continued to pursue the consolidation of the provincial depots to which he and the Kunstschutz had agreed but on March 7, he received a memo from one of Bonnard’s staff members, once again pushing to evacuate the collections towards the east.
Perhaps the Germans were wearying of Bonnard’s ineffectiveness in getting the works within reach. And they knew their window of opportunity to get the art within reach was beginning to close as Allied bombing became more intense and it was evident an Allied landing was only a matter of time. A week later, they showed their hand as Bunjes himself entered the discussion. Bunjes tried to convince Jaujard that, due to the risk of an Allied coastal landing, the depots should be moved away from the Atlantic and the Mediterranean: in other words, east. Bunjes also wanted to know the quantity of trucks, fuel and workers that would be needed to move the art. Bonnard quickly followed up on Bunjes’ initiative with a request for the precise volume of items at the depots. Jaujard sent official word to each depot requesting the information. Unofficial word also went to each depot: exaggerate the volume so much that the move will seem impossible.
While the depot heads made their “calculations,” Jaujard decided it was time to present a last-ditch argument he had held in reserve, turning the German and Vichy logic against them. If the art and antiquities were to be moved, then, fine, move them east. But even farther east than had been suggested. They could be moved to the extreme eastern Jura region, which did not abut the German border. In case of danger, the artworks could be moved out of France altogether. To Switzerland. On May 10, he made his case. “The high standards of hospitality of the Swiss nation are a sure guarantee that they would do everything to effectively protect our patrimony,” he wrote. He was personally aware of those standards from his 1939 assistance to the Spanish in their evacuation of works from the Prado Museum to Switzerland and both Bonnard and the Germans knew it. The ploy bought a precious month of silence from Bunjes and Bonnard. The Allies were coming soon, Jaujard knew; he just needed to keep buying time.