Read the book: «The Cathedrals of Northern France», page 11

XII
ST. ETIENNE DE MEAUX

To the eastward of Paris, one first finds the true country atmosphere at Meaux, famous for its bishops, its grist-mills, and its generally charming environment.

The picturesque little city is situated on the Marne, some thirty miles from Paris, amid a verdure which, if not luxuriant, is, at least, a "fringe of green" that is appealing alike to local pride, and to the artist or stranger within the gates. It is an ancient bishopric (now suffragan of Paris), founded in 375 A. D.

The Cathedral of Saint Etienne de Meaux is called by the French the "Child of Amiens," and it would have all the dignity of its mother had but the nave received the same development as the choir. Its general dimensions are restrained, and it shows in no way any remarkable architectural ensemble; but, for all that, its power to please is none the less great. Lacking a certain symmetry, in itself no great fault, the exterior gives the impression of being to-day much less grand and imposing than was really planned. Battled by wind and weather, its outer walls have that scarred and aged look which is a beauty in itself. There are two towers, one of which is unfinished and capped with an ugly and angular slate roof, so low that it hardly exists at all, so far as forming a distinct feature of the façade is concerned. Its companion, however, rises boldly and in graceful lines to a generous height above the gable.

The interior plan is regular and simple, with a nave of five bays, the first two from the west being divided into the infrequent quadruple range of openings, while the remainder consist of the usual triforium and clerestory only. The double aisles of the nave are of unusual height, in order to admit of this double range of openings.

The transepts, if transepts they can be considered, are very shallow, being merely the depth of the double aisles of the nave and choir, and are bare and unadorned so far as any notable sculpture or glass is concerned, though the arched windows which hold the plain glass are of grand proportions and excellent design as to their framing.

The triforium, throughout, is an arcaded cloister-like effect of slight arches, supported by slender columns, with a series of glazed windows behind. It would be a notable and wholly charming arrangement were the glass of these windows rich in colour, or even old in design.

There is an air of singular lightness, if not actually of grace, throughout the entire nave and choir, superinduced, perhaps, by the recent whitening and pointing of the masonry; but the not infrequent bulging piers, particularly those nearest to the transept crossing, give a suggestion of ungainliness if not of actual insecurity.

The columns of the choir, supporting a series of firm and gracefully poised arches, are of unusual height, something over forty feet, it would appear, – producing a harmony of form and elegance which again reminds one of Amiens.

There are here copies of the nine Raphael tapestry cartoons, the originals of which are preserved at South Kensington, also of frescoes by Guido Reni and Domenichino.

The chief artistic, if not architectural, charm to be seen within the purlieus of the cathedral is that of the ancient chapter-house, across a narrow way, to the right of the church itself. This gem of mediæval building is perhaps not remarkable as to any of the principles which it sets forth in its manner of construction, but it takes one back some hundreds of years, a sheer plunge far beyond the age of the most prominent features of the main church, and gives a thrill somewhat akin to the emotion which one feels when he comes across a single leaf torn from an old illuminated manuscript. This charming ruin, for it is hardly more than that, being a mere lumber-room, shows in the weathered look of its covered stairway nearly all of the qualities which the painter loves to depict, – colour, texture, and, above all, that indescribable charm which artistic folk, and others who can see as they do, call life.

Clearly, the Cathedral of St. Etienne de Meaux, as an interesting shrine, may be classed well at the head of the secondary cathedrals of the third Gothic period.

XIII
ST. PIERRE DE TROYES

To the thorough student of English history, Troyes is perhaps first recalled as being the birthplace of the treaty "decreeing for ever a common sovereign for England and France," a treaty which, it is minded, "stood no while." Again, some dubious antiquary has put it forward as the home of that variety of weights "which are not avoirdupois."

The Counts of Champagne had, in the once well-walled city, both a castle and a palace. Olden-time houses, good Gothic woodwork and Renaissance stonework, are here in abundance; also, according to the authority of Fergusson, a well-nigh perfect Gothic church in St. Urbain; likewise a great cathedral, – rather ugly as to its general outline. All these are possessed by Troyes, and to-day the reminders and remains of each and all are exceedingly vivid and substantial.

Certain cathedrals of France show plainly the different phases and developments of the art of building through which they have passed; others indicate little, if any, deviation from a certain accepted style. St. Pierre de Troyes is of the first category. Here is Gothic in all its variations. Its environment, too, is characteristic of the many varying moods through which its constituency has passed. A truly mediæval city in the picturesqueness of its older portions, Troyes is famed alike in affairs of Church and State. The dimensions of the Cathedral at Troyes, which approach those of the grand group, and the general majesty of its interior only further this opinion.

The main body covers the none too frequent arrangement of five aisles, which, following through the transept, continue, with the double pair on each side, to likewise girdle the choir. The splendour of immensity is further enhanced by its large windows, including two rose openings set with old glass, and the general richness of its sculptured decorations. The abside of the choir is ranked among the best Gothic works of the time.

The choir, begun in 1206, is composed of thirteen arcades, symbolical of Christ and the twelve apostles, from the chief of whom the cathedral takes its name. The windows of the triforium are large and divided into four compartments. The general disposition of the choir, with its radiating chapels, is superb; and it is exactly this satisfying, though perhaps undefinable, quality that is ofttimes lacking in an originally well-planned work which fails to inspire one. The choir contains an iron grille of the thirteenth century, of very beautiful workmanship, and is surrounded by five hexagonally sided chapels.

The principal portion of the nave, erected in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries, interrupted now and again by war and civil distractions, bears indelible impress of its continued centuries of growth.

The principal façade of the fifteenth century – accredited to one Martin Chambige and erected just after the nave took form – is of the richness of Gothic only just previous to its decline. There are three portals, which are bare of sculptured figures, as indeed is the whole west front. In arrangement, it resembles the frontispieces of certain of the grand cathedrals, and, though lacking their sculptured ornateness, is thoroughly satisfying as a decorative frontage. Had it been executed fifty years later, it would be hard to imagine to what depths its lines might not have fallen. As it is, the upper ranges of the tower suggest the thought. The windows of the aisle and of the clerestory of the nave, when viewed from the exterior, are grandly traceried and gracefully coupled by a series of light, firm buttresses, which rise, only from the gables of the lower set, over the low-lying roof to the spring of the arch of the upper range. St. Pierre de Troyes suggests, in a mild way, the "sheer glass walls" so frequently referred to by adulous French critics when chanting the praises of the highly developed lightness of their indigenous style. This is further accentuated when one notes the glazed triforium, a decorative feature reminiscent of that at Séez, Nevers, Tours, and St. Ouen at Rouen.

Troyes is one of those prominent cathedral cities of Catholic France whereof the churchman deplores the fact that its men are not of the church-going class, and that its congregations are mostly of the fair sex. Be this as it may, except in Brittany, where the whole population appears unusually devout, the stricture is probably true in a great measure of all of the north of France; and, be it here said, recent political edicts will doubtless not tend to increase the propaganda of piety.

The north gable, with its portal and rose window, is of the fifteenth century, and, with the "lustrous rose" of the south transept, forms a pair of brilliant jewels which are hardly excelled elsewhere, not even by the encircled splendour of the forty-foot openings at Reims and Amiens, the equally extensive one of the north transept at Rouen, or, most splendid of all, the galaxy at Chartres. These marvels of French ingenuity and invention are nowhere more splendidly proportioned or embellished than at Troyes, and are equally attractive viewed from either within or without.

The chief "tresor" consists of a series of wonderful mediæval enamels.

XIV
ST. ETIENNE DE SENS

Says the Abbé Bourassé, "One of the most beautiful titles to glory in a church is the antiquity of its foundation," hence, most French antiquaries who have written upon the subject of the celebrated Cathedral of St. Etienne of Sens have enlarged upon its "glorious antiquity." To prove or verify the fact as to whether St. Savinien or St. Potentien was the first to preach Christian religion here would be a laborious undertaking. Evidences and knowledge of Roman works are not wanting, and early Christian edifices of the Romanesque order must naturally have followed. One learns that an early church on this site was entirely destroyed by fire in 970, and that a new edifice had progressed so far that it was dedicated in 997. This, in turn, was mostly rebuilt, and, two hundred years later (1168), took the form of the present cathedral. It was completed, in a rather plain and heavy ogival style, under the capable direction of the William who came to Canterbury, in response to a call, to rebuild the choir of that English church in 1174. It is this link, and possibly a sight of the vestments of À Becket, now preserved among the "tresor" of Sens, that binds its memory with English contemporary life. Whatever may be the contentions waged as to the claims of English Gothic, it is universally and unimpeachably admitted that Guillaume de Sens rebuilt that famous choir of Canterbury, and built it well, and of a newer order of design than any previous work in England. So let it stand.

Taken by itself, the Cathedral at Sens is a high example of Christian art. When, however, it is compared with the grand group, it is relegated immediately to the second rank. The interior, far more than the exterior, shows a visible disparity of unified style. Romano-Byzantine, transition, and ogival are all found in the nave and choir, with the flamboyant, of the fifteenth century, in the ornamental tracery of the windows of the transepts.

Some visible remains of the earlier structure are shown, built into the eleventh century walls. Of the same period are other evidences of a former erection, to be noted in the aisles. The transept and the greater part of the nave are of the century following, and of the early thirteenth, and finally the three arcades, by which the nave is entered, are something very akin to the full-blown Renaissance of the fifteenth century.

The general plan is symmetrical, and severe, only the twenty chapels being ungracefully disposed. Ten of these are in the choir and ten in the nave. For the antiquary, versed in religious archæology, the Cathedral of Sens would appear, from the very inconsistencies and exuberance of its style, to be of great interest. The fragments that remain of its former magnificent glass, the sculptured monuments, and the tombs and curiosities of the "tresor," which escaped Revolutionary spoliation, all combine in a glorious attraction for one who has the time and inclination to delve into the reminiscence of history and association of a past age.

The glass of the choir, and of the chapel of St. Savinien, is of the thirteenth century. The colour is exceedingly brilliant, lively, and harmonious, with the iridescence of a mosaic of precious stones.

The sixteenth-century glass, none the less than the framing itself, of the grand rose windows of the north and south transepts, is equally remarkable as to design and colour. The former represents the "Glorification of Jesus Christ," and the latter "Events in the Life of St. Etienne."

The "tresor" of the cathedral is very numerous and is considered the richest in all France. The most notable are a reliquary of gold, set with sapphires and pearls, containing a fragment of the True Cross, given by Charlemagne in the year 800; four magnificent tapestries of the time of Charles V., representing the "Adoration of the Magi;" and the pontifical robes of St. Thomas (à Becket), chasuble, aube, stole, manipule, cordon, two mitres, and two collars. This courageous archbishop, persecuted by Henry II., took refuge in Sens in 1162. An elaborate tomb (of the eighteenth century), by Constant, is the mausoleum of the Dauphin, father of Louis XVI.

PART VI
Western Normandy and Brittany

I
INTRODUCTORY

Most people who have read Ruskin, and most people have done so – in the past, will undoubtedly concur with his dictum that Rouen's "associated Norman cities," Bayeux, Caen, Coutances, St. Lo, Lisieux, and Dieppe, run the entire gamut of mediæval architectural notes; or, as Ruskin himself has put it, "from the Romanesque to the flamboyant." He might well have added, the Renaissance and the pseudo-classicism of a later day.

Beauties there are in this region, galore; and the examples which no longer exist, but of which the records tell, point to a still larger aggregate.

Who thinks to-day of Coutances as of being a "cathedral town?" And yet, there is within it, as to the general effect of situation and the magnitude of its towering pinnacles, an edifice which perhaps outranks all but the very greatest. Most likely no thought is given it at all, except that Coutances is somewhere on the railway line between Cherbourg and Paris, or that it is near unto Bayeux; also possessed of a magnificent cathedral, but whose greatest fame lies in a certain false sentiment associated with its famous tapestry. Not that this great work is to be decried, – far from it, but the spirit with which it is so often viewed should be a matter of scorn for every broad-minded traveller.

Lisieux, too, has a wealth of attraction for those who fondly admire reeking picturesqueness and old timbered houses, though its cathedral will not please.

Pugin could not resist depicting many of these delightful old houses of Lisieux in his book on Normandy, though, unlike Ruskin, he had no eye for its cathedral; most of us will not have.

So much, then, as a plea for a more sincere and thorough appreciation of the charms of western Normandy. It is cheap; accessible, and has a practically inexhaustible store of treasure for the traveller or student of limited time or money, but who will not make of it the usual mere "bank-holiday" scamper. The same applies also to Brittany, which is treated elsewhere, with this proviso, that the tourist afoot or awheel is far better equipped than he who has to depend upon steam and the rail, two at least of Brittany's cathedrals being "off the line."

II
NOTRE DAME D'EVREUX

The Cathedral at Evreux is another of those edifices which gives one its best impression when first seen upon entering the city. Charmingly, possibly romantically, situated, it lies in a shallow valley with all the picturesqueness of its varied style limned against the sky in truly impressionistic fashion. This impression, when viewed from the slight eminence by which the railway enters the town, is a vista of rambling roofs and a long, sloping street running gently down to the very foot of the structure, which, set about and interspersed with verdure, as it is in the spring and summer months, warrants one in counting his introduction to this charmingly attractive, though non-consistent, type of church, as one of the events which will live in memory for years.

If towering spires and pinnacles were a sine qua non for a great and imposing architectural style, this church would at once rank as one of the most delightful examples extant; for these very features, albeit they are mostly of what we have come to accept as a debased form of art, are nevertheless possessed of a grandeur and magnificence which in many worthy examples are entirely lacking. The pair of western towers, of Romanesque foundation, were developed, not in what one knows as Gothic, but of the manifest and offensive pseudo-classic order. They are capped, however, with something more akin to Moorish or an Eastern termination than Italian. The spire which surmounts the central crossing is, without question, a reminiscence of much that has been accepted as good Gothic form in the great central-towered English churches. Up to a certain point this can hardly be denied; but this rather weak, effeminate spire, which forms such an unusual attribute of a French cathedral, more than qualifies its right to a place in the first rank of spires. As for the rest of the exterior, it is a mélange of nearly every known architectural style. Undeniably fine in parts, like "the curate's egg," if a time-worn simile may be permitted, it forms an ensemble which would preclude its ever being accorded unqualified praise from even the most liberal-minded and optimistic enthusiast.

By far the most coherent view to be had near by is that from the gardens of the Archbishop's Palace immediately to the rearward of the choir. Here the clipped trees, the warm coloured wall, along which the vines are trained, and what was once a canal, or moat, in the foreground, combine to present a singularly artistic and pleasing composition.

The north transept, of Bishop le Veneur, is of the superlative degree of its era (early sixteenth century), bordering upon the profusion of splayed ornament which so soon after turned to dross, but standing, as it does, of itself, clearly defined. The gulf was finally crossed when, less than a half-century later, the incongruous west front with its ill-mannered towers was built, – in itself a subject worth a deal of study from the artist who would picture graven stone, but contrasting unfavourably enough with the heights to which French ecclesiastical architecture had just previously soared. Here is offered the one unified Renaissance façade of a French cathedral, welded, as it were, in unworthy fashion, to a fabric with which it has nothing in common. The stone-mason here superseded the craftsman; and, with the termination of the reign of François I., and following with that of Henry II., came the flowering rankness of a degenerate weed, leaving, as evidence of its contaminating influence in this one example alone, traces of nearly every classical order, from the simple Doric column to a hybrid which shall be unnamed.

The interior presents a general array of incongruities quite as remarkable as those of the exterior. The nave is very narrow; but the choir widens out perhaps a dozen feet on either side, adding immeasurably to an effect which is far more impressive than might otherwise be supposed.

The nave itself shows many varieties of building, ranging from the Gothic of the early twelfth to the late fifteenth centuries; the lower part and the easterly bays are Romanesque, or what perhaps has been popularly accepted as Norman, and date from 1125; the remainder and the triforium are of a century later.

The choir is of the decorated species of the early fourteenth century, with its arcaded triforium glazed, whereas in the nave it is without glass. The lady-chapel, of the time of Louis XI., shows that inevitable mark of degeneracy, the "fleur-de-lys," in the elaborated tracery of the window framing. The glass here is, however, excellent, in effect at any rate, with its gorgeous figures of knights, angels, and peers of France, drawn with a masterly skill which is often lacking in even more precious glass.

The chapel screens, some twenty in all, are wondrously turned and carved of wood. This leads one to venture the thought that the similar decorative embellishments of the Renaissance chateaux of the Loire country were slowly creeping northward, and leaving their impress upon the work of the ecclesiastical builder and decorator. Certainly, the numerous fine examples of the art of the wood-carver, to be seen in this cathedral, bespeak much for the decorative quality of wood, when used considerately in conjunction with stone.

There are two rose windows, of the petal species, unquestionably fine as to framing, but leaving little space for the effect of the glass, which they hold only in small proportion.

The "treasury," alone, is enclosed with iron bars, and a grille of graceful late flowing ironwork forms the screen of the choir. Altogether the Cathedral at Evreux will be remembered quite as much for its wonderful array of wooden and iron grilles as for any other of the specific details among its mass of general attributes.