Son fils est mort pour la France, sa fille est morte par la France

I have often walked by many Paris mansions and wished, “If only I could go in and see what it is like inside,” but since most have been divided into apartments or are not open to the public, ce n'est pas possible. There is, however, one that you can be visited--the Musée Nissim de Camondo, an unbelievably spectacular private hotel at 63, rue de Monceau.

So, when the Louvre is filled to the seams with people, or the Musée d’Orsay is so crowded you can only see the backs of the three rows of people in front of you, why not visit a lesser known museum--the Camondo? There you will find so much harmony and unity wrapped up together in one place, that it will call you back time and again.
Moise de Camondo was from an old Sephardic Jewish family who founded one of the most important banks of the Ottoman Empire. Italian King Victor-Emmanuel II, in appreciation for the Camondos’ financial support, ennobled them in 1867. At the end of the Second Empire, the family decided to expand their banking business into France. It was at this time that the family acquired two properties on rue de Monceau in the 8ème arrondissement. Moise de Camondo and his cousin Isaac both become serious collectors. Isaac’s large collection of Impressionist paintings are now mostly in the Musée d’Orsay and Moise's incredible XVIII century collection is in the private hotel named after his son Nissim. After Nissim’s tragic death during combat in WWI, Moise decided to give his mansion and collections to France in his son’s memory.

Passionate for the XVII century, Moise admired the elegance that started at the end of the reign of Louis XV and flourished under Louis XVI to become the summit of neo-classicism. He befriended Carle Dreyfus, the Louvre conservator, and Louis Metmann from the Musée des Arts Décoratifs. Taking their advice to heart, Moise started his personal collection . After Moise demolished the rue de Monceau mansion and, in 1911, rebuilt a private hotel modeled after the Petit Trianon, with rooms especially made to showcase his collections.

Moise also insisted on the most modern comforts of his time, as the kitchen and bathrooms illustrate today. With patience, persistence and a great deal of money, he was able to reunite furniture suites and paired objects that time had separated centuries earlier.

The entire collection is brilliant. All of the French XVII century objects are woven in history—tables and vases from Marie Antoinette, and carpets from Versailles. It is not each object, but the whole incredible ensemble, that makes the collection harmonious and magical. The Aubusson tapestries illustrating La Fontaine fables, the fabulous Sèvres Buffon service with each piece decorated with a different bird, and the bronze and the silver from Russian Empress Catherine II, the Jacob furniture--every piece is the best example of its time.

One gets the feeling, going from one room to another, that time stopped one day in 1931 just before Moise donated his collection to France. You really feel more like a guest of the Camondos, almost expecting Marcel Proust, a regular visitor, to be sitting next to you at diner. Since few objects are under glass, one can get an incredibly close up view.

Such beauty, time and effort all ended in tragedy. The Camondos had faith that the French government would protect them from the Nazis since their son had fought for France in the First World War and the family had donated their valuable collection to the state. But in the end, the French Vichy government had them arrested and deported to Dracy and then to their deaths in Auschwitz. Moise's daughter Béatrice, her husband and their two children were all gassed.

As Pierre Assouline wrote about Moise de Camondo:

His son died for France and his daughter was kill by her.
Son fils est
mort pour la France, sa fille est morte par la France .