The western front has some resemblance in its lower part, to the

southern portal of Chartres. It has an open portico, of three arches in

front, and two arches deep, with a little square additional piece. The

central part is vaulted in oblique groins. The doorways are ornamented

with columns singularly crowded together, and statues have been placed

on some of those of the front row, but these, as usual, have been

destroyed. I could not determine whether there had been any projection

at the feet of these statues to give them an apparent support. The

canopies above them are rather appended to the capitals, than forming

part of them, and they consist of models of architecture; nearly the

same subject being repeated in all of them. The space over these arches

has been ornamented with figures, and we find also a sort of Roman or

Arabesque ornament; but I consider this, not as indicating a difference

of date, but as an approximation to a style I may expect to find in the

South of France and in Italy, retaining much more of the ancient

architecture, than that of our northern parts. Even in the north of

France, we meet frequently with approximations to the Roman orders and

ornaments in the early Gothic. Above the door of the southern portal a

row of disks still remains, placed, I suppose, behind the heads of

statues of saints, which have been destroyed. These are observed also at

the porch of St. Germain des Prés, and in some other buildings, where

they are considered as proofs of high antiquity.

Over this porch or portico are two ranges, each of nineteen columns,

supporting little arches, and above and below, and between these ranges

are richly ornamented bands. On these bands, in several places, are

indications, as if there had been figures of animals projecting directly

forwards, as you may frequently see in cases where they are introduced

as water-spouts, and such figures are still seen at the back of this

façade. The annexed sketch may give you an idea of what I suppose to

have been the original design of the composition.

[Illustration: Illustration of porch]

The plan of this building is a Latin cross, with aisles to the nave, two

little chapels on each side of the straight part of the choir, and a

very narrow aisle behind the choir. A gallery or triforium runs round

the building at the usual height, and a second within the windows of the

clerestory. In Gothic churches, the glass of the upper windows is

usually over the range of little shafts forming the triforium, here it

is over the wall, forming the back of the gallery. At the _rond point_

this gallery occupies the whole width of the aisle below; a very wide

gallery, though a very narrow aisle; and it is there lighted by circular

windows, but whether these belong to the original design I cannot tell.

One end of the transept presents an arrangement somewhat similar to that

of St. Leger, at Soissons, with five equal lancet windows below, and a

rose window above. The work of the rose window fell out some time ago,

and it is now quite naked. The five windows below are long and narrow,

and without any tracery: indeed there is no tracery in the church. They

have externally six shafts, at some distance from the wall, supporting

little pointed arches; internally, there are only three shafts, which of

course do not correspond with the windows; and they support flat scheme

arches on little blocks. Over the intersection of the cross is a square

tower, with a circular turret at each angle. The inside of this tower is

ornamented with very slender shafts, and arches upon them, and was

certainly intended to be exposed from below to the interior of the

church; the present vaulting of that part being an awkward posterior

addition. The old vaulting, above these shafts, was begun, but never

completed.

While I was making sketches in this church, a girl took a chair just

behind me, in order at the same time to perform her devotions, and to

see what I was about; but religion and curiosity combined were

insufficient to keep her awake. Soon after, the same blacksmith who had

so well criticised the porch at St. Michel, came up and offered to

conduct me all over the church, of which he had the keys. I assented to

his proposal, and was not a little struck with the extreme thinness of

the walls: those of the turrets, though rising 100 feet from the roof,

are not 6 inches thick, and other walls are about in the same

proportion. Indeed, the architect seems to have loved lightness ‘_à la

folie_;’ for, in ornamenting the inside of his tower, he has used shafts

20 feet long, and only 7 inches in diameter, and one of these is of a

single stone: several other shafts are about 15 feet long, and 5½ inches

in diameter, each of a single piece, and all perfectly detached from the

wall for their whole length. They are of a very hard stone, and so are

also some of the thinnest parts of the masonry: the rest of the walls

and piers are of a material less hard and heavy, and the vaulting, which

is in oblique groins, is of a stone extremely light and porous. They are

all found within a few leagues of the place.

The rain disappointed me in a walk I had projected, in order to see a

little of the country about Dijon. Just out of the town is a noble

spring, clear and abundant, and the use the people of the city make of

it is to wash their foul linen. A shed built over it, and rows of stones

in the water, make it very convenient for that purpose. It seems almost

a profanation to contaminate the crystal fluid so immediately, with dirt

and soapsuds. The soil is very rocky in the immediate neighbourhood, and

full of quarries, which form excellent vineyards; but till we reach this

place, Burgundy has as few vineyards as Champaine. The finest wine is

made a little beyond Dijon, on the road to Lyon.

In England, we see sometimes written up _working jeweller_, _working

watch-maker_, indicating, I suppose, the double advantage, that their

employers will have to give their directions to the very individual who

will execute them, and that it will be cheaper, as no intermediate

profit is necessary. In France, on the contrary, we find _marchands

serruriers_, _marchands horlogers_, _&c._; the possessor of the shop

apparently vindicating himself from the charge of being a mere workman.

I left Dijon on the morning of the 28th. One meets in French diligences,

as well as in English stages, great variety of company, sometimes very

agreeable, and sometimes rather the reverse. My companions from Troyes

belonged to the latter class, but to make amends, I was this morning

very fortunate, and met with a civil and very pleasant company. Both

parties were I believe traders, going to the fair of Beaucaire. On

leaving the town we observed a man sleeping under the walls of a church.

He had made himself a sort of roof, and suspended to it a napkin, to

keep out the rain, which descended heavily, and his goods were spread

about, covered with old tapestry. It was a testimony to the honesty, or

to the good police of Dijon; and perhaps if my companions had not

thought it very ridiculous, I should have set it down as one of the

customs of the country. On this road there was no longer any deficiency

of vineyards. They lie at the foot of a range of hills almost all the

way to Chalons sur Saone; these hills are of considerable height, (but

not mountains) intersected frequently by deep, narrow ravines, sometimes

rocky, and giving me something of the idea of the Mendip hills, between

Wells and Chedder, but less bold, less lofty, and to the eye, less rich;

for though the upper part is covered with wood, yet it is merely bushes

and underwood. This is the famous Côte d’Or. All the lower parts are

covered with the vineyards which produce the Burgundy wine, but some are

much better than others, though the physical situation of all seems

precisely alike. These hills were on the right; on the left was a

fertile and well cultivated plain, not entirely flat, shaded with fruit

trees, and here and there a little bit of wood: the vines sometimes

extending also on this side. The rain did not permit me to see the

extent of this lower country, or how it was bounded.

There is a cathedral at Chalons, of which the earliest part may perhaps

be of the pointed architecture of the eleventh century. The choir is of

the twelfth and thirteenth, and some parts of the edifice must be of the

fifteenth, but I had little time to examine it. We found the floods so

high, that the barge (_Coche d’eau_) which passes between Chalons and

Lyon could not go, the tracking paths being covered with water. Three of

my companions and myself engaged a voiture to take us to Macon. We

breakfasted, or dined, as it is here usually called, at Tournu. In the

north of France the meals are disposed pretty much as in England, but

the breakfast is more solid. Here we dine at eleven or twelve, sometimes

earlier, and it is the first meal. Supper is usually about eight.

At Tournu is a curious church. The body is of a rude sort of Norman

architecture, apparently of high antiquity, with additions decidedly

posterior, but still Norman, and some trifling alterations of the

fourteenth and sixteenth centuries. The choir has something like

pilasters, and the intersection of the nave and transept is surmounted

by a dome, which I cannot doubt to be part of the original structure.

The banks of the Saone at first are flat, but the scenery begins to

improve about Tournu. The road from this place occasionally passes over

moderate hills, and exposes views of distant mountains covered with

wood, cultivated hills, and rich and populous valleys. The weather was

beautiful, and while our carriage remained waiting at Tournu, I walked

on and had truly a time of enjoyment. At Macon, my companions conducted

me to the Hotel de l’Europe, and I felt myself so comfortable, and was

so well pleased with the place and the people, that I was quite sorry

not to be able to find a good Gothic cathedral, as a reason for spending

a day or two there. On the 30th we found a passage boat, and descended

to Lyon. The hills which bound the valley approach as we descend, and

the entrance of Lyon is like the approach to Bristol from the sea, under

the Slopes of Durdham and King’s Downs, and the rocks of the hot wells,

but the river is larger and the cliffs not so high. There are a few

curious looking chateaus in descending the Saone, and one or two

churches one might look at, if employment were wanted, but nothing is

very striking, and you may easily conceive that thus going down in a

boat, I can hope to catch nothing but the most obvious features.

LETTER IX.

LYON.

_Lyon, 11th July, 1816._

THE first object of my curiosity in every town is the cathedral. This

city possesses a magnificent one. A little description of Lyon, which I

have purchased, says, that the nave _appears_ to be of the age of St.

Louis, (1226 to 1271), I wanted history, and not conjecture, but this is

probably about the truth. There is less ornament, and less ingenuity in

the management of the different parts than at Amiens, but the piers are

more slender, and more complicated; the bases have more projection, and

the capitals are smaller than in that edifice, and I can easily believe

it to be a little, though but little later. The choir is more ancient,

but I must give you a little description.

The original building consists of a nave with side aisles, a transept

without them, a chapel of two arches on each side of the choir, but

neither aisle nor chapel in the chevet. The choir is lower than the

nave, and there is a rose, or rather a wheel window above it. The chevet

is polygonal, and its windows are divided into two parts by a little

column, and have a sort of trefoil in the upper part.

[Illustration: Illustration of window]

The straight part of the choir and the transept have the windows placed

by threes, or perhaps it would be better to say, divided into three by

small columns, but the parts are not united either externally or

internally by a common arch.

[Illustration: Illustration of window]

At each end of the transept is a fine wheel window, understanding by

this term a circular window, in which little columns placed as spokes in

a wheel, form the principal part of the composition. I do not know if,

when this arrangement was first introduced, the centre was ever left

solid, but we have very early specimens, in which it was perforated.

Each division between the columns was usually terminated towards the

circumference by a trefoil, but sometimes there is a simple or a double

arch. By degrees other perforations were made beyond these primary

divisions, but still included in a common circle. After a time the

spokes ceased to be little columns, and the direct radiating lines

became a very small portion of the composition. Other arches and

ornaments were introduced, and the former were frequently based upon the

circumference instead of appearing to spring from the centre; and

lastly, the divisions variously branched seemed to lose all relation to

the original idea, except in the general circular form. I have three

names to apply to these different distributions, which might form

_botanically_, five species.

1st. Columnar spokes and no exterior openings, as at St. Stephen’s at

Beauvais, and the window over the choir at Lyon.

2nd. Columnar spokes and exterior openings. In France we find such at

Chartres, and in the end windows of the transept of which I am now

treating: to both these I should give the name of wheel windows.

3rd. No columns; the divisions are variously branched, but still

exhibiting an appearance of radiation. Such as this we have at Amiens,

Beauvais, Lyons, and many other places, and I should appropriate to them

the name of rose windows.

4th. Arches and ornaments arising from the circumference as well as from

the centre. This disposition gives a squareness to the ends of the

divisions which may well merit the name of marigold windows, the

cathedrals at Mantes and at Chalons sur Marne, will offer examples.

5th. No radiation preserved in the principal divisions. I do not know

that I can cite for this any other example than that at the cathedral at

Troyes, and it may, without inconvenience, be left without a name.

[Illustration: Illustration of windows]

[Illustration: Illustration of windows]

I believe these different arrangements succeeded each other nearly in

the order I have mentioned, but not uniformly so. In small windows of

the same epoch, the disposition is generally more simple than in the

large ones, but after the columnar spokes had once been abandoned, it

does not appear that they were ever resumed.

The gallery or triforium, of the transept and choir, has semi-circular

arches resting on columns almost Corinthian, and on pilasters which

might be deemed of the _renaissance_, if some of the latter were not

zig-zag. On the whole, if I had met in the north of France with a

building corresponding in character with the choir and transept of the

cathedral at Lyon, I should say that it had been erected about the year

1200, or rather earlier, when the first style of pointed architecture

was beginning to give way to the second. In the nave, the larger shafts

are connected with the masonry of the piers and walls, the smaller are

constructed separately. At Nôtre Dame at Dijon, exactly the reverse

takes place; there, the large shafts have an independent construction,

and the smaller are united with the mass of the work. Some of the

pillars next the choir, as well as those of the choir itself, have

nearly the ancient Attic base; in others, the Gothic forms are fully

developed. The groining of the vaults is oblique, and the last pair of

pillars seems to be an addition of the fourteenth century. In the

fifteenth century, several chapels were added to the nave; the last and

most beautiful of which is that which was built for Charles, Cardinal de

Bourbon, who was king of France for four hours. This Charles, Duke de

Vendôme, Cardinal Archbishop of Rouen, and legate of Avignon, was born

in 1523, put upon the throne in 1589 by the Duke de Mayenne, and died in

1590; is it possible we can have Gothic architecture in this city of so

late a date? My guide-book tells me that his brother, Pierre de Bourbon,

who finished this chapel, married the daughter of Louis XI. and

multiplied the thistle among his ornaments, to signify that the king had

made him a ‘_cher don_.’ Louis XI. died in 1483, and I suspect that my

history is not correct. This chapel is entirely in the pointed style,

and part of the vaulting exhibits some indication of the manner of our

Henry the Seventh’s chapel at Westminster. We find also the bases of

adjoining parts on different levels, and mouldings lost and

re-appearing, or seeming to pass one behind the other; but I cannot find

the complicated arch, so common in the late French Gothic, in any of the

ornaments.

The towers of this cathedral are placed, one at each end of the

transept. The lower part, and perhaps the whole of what has been

executed of the northern, seems to be of the same date with the nave.

The southern tower is of the fifteenth century. They are both

unfinished, except by a sort of balustrade, on which is laid a modern

Italian tiled roof, a termination not at all in harmony with the

character of the building.

The portal, including in that term the whole western front, is said to

be of the time of Louis XI., who reigned from 1462 to 1483. It hardly

seems to me all of one date, I should have assigned to some parts an

earlier epoch, but there is a considerable quantity of ornamental work

above the doorway, which may well belong to the date assigned. The

filling in of the rose window belongs to the third style of Gothic. The

idea of the composition seems to have been a square, with a turreted

buttress at each angle, crowned with a gable in the middle, and a tower

at each extremity, but without any thing below to carry the division of

these parts down to the ground. The towers, however, have never been

finished, and at present do not rise so high as the gable. On the sides

of the nave, the windows of the clerestory are divided into three parts,

with three roses above them pyramidally disposed, but not united

externally in a common arch.

Besides the cathedral, there is a church dedicated to St. Paul, of Saxon

architecture, said to have been built by Saint Sacerdos, in the sixth

century, and repaired, first by Ledrade in 802, and afterwards by Hugh

the First, in 1103. The ancient work remaining is probably of the last

date, but the inside is a poor modern restoration. The intersection is

crowned with an octangular tower, ornamented with Norman arches, and a

fine cornice with modillions, many of which are sculptured with the

heads of men and animals.

[Illustration:

A.B. Clayton del. from Sketches by J. Woods.

CHURCH AT AYNAI.]

The church of St. Nizier is more deserving of attention; it was built by

a citizen of the name of Renouard, who begun it in 1300, and finished it

before 1315, and we find here most of the characters of the fourth style

of Gothic. There are small capitals at the springing of the arches of

the nave, but the ribs are carried up and spread upon the vaulting

without any thing to mark the termination of the upright part. The Attic

base is entirely abandoned, and we have a simple ogee in its place, and

the bases of the different parts occur at different levels, though not

with all the intricacy which is found in some buildings of a later

period.

The vaulting in France seems to have proceeded gradually from the

circular to the obtusely pointed arch, and afterwards to the more acute;

it then flattened again in elliptic curves. I did not think that the

latter change had taken place so early as the beginning of the

fourteenth century, but as we find some examples at St. Nizier, we may

probably assign to it this date. This church may be considered as an

important evidence to fix the earliest introduction of these three

peculiarities of the later Gothic; to all of which I should otherwise

attribute a much more recent period. The windows of the clerestory are

leafy, and the ribs of the roof are disposed so as to have something of

the same effect.

As we proceed south we observe more evident traces of the imitation of

Roman mouldings and ornaments, but this is most conspicuous in the

earlier edifices. In proportion as the pointed architecture obtained a

distinct style and character, these smaller parts were made to

correspond with the general design, and forms quite peculiar to it were

introduced. Thus we find considerable evidence of the imitation of Roman

art in the cathedral, but none in St. Nizier.

One of the most curious antiquities of Lyon is the church of Aynai, a

name, according to the Tableau de Lyon, derived from Athenas; it is

situated a little out of the town on the long point of land which

divides the Saone from the Rhone. The building was originally founded by

St. Badoul in the fourth century, but destroyed by the Saracens in the

eighth, and the present edifice was begun in the tenth, and perhaps not

finished till 1070. The outside is ornamented with a sort of mosaic of

red brick, or tiles inserted into a whitish stone. The western tower has

a pyramidal roof, and a smaller quarter pyramid at each angle. All these

seem to me to belong to the original construction. The inside forms a

cross, with a dome at the intersection supported on four granite columns

formed from two ancient ones, each of which has been sawn in two; each

piece is about thirteen feet six inches high. They are said to have

decorated the altar of a temple of Augustus. Over the dome is a central

tower. The choir is little more than a semi-circular recess, with a

semidome: this arrangement alone is a proof of very high antiquity. The

ancient apsis was nothing more than a large niche, and the complete

development of the cross, in the plans of our churches, is not prior to

the eleventh century.

There is a building close to the cathedral called the Hotel de

Chevrière, supposed to be of the same date as the church at Aynai. It is

ornamented like that edifice, with red tiles inserted in the masonry,

and resembles it in some other peculiarities of its architecture. It has

been much cut up by modern alterations, but the original disposition was

not perfectly regular. The principal decoration arises from a row of

little semi-circular arches, some of which rest on Corinthian-like

columns, and others on small and unornamented corbels, under each of

which was a square recess containing a statue. There is a large arched

doorway, but all the present windows are modern, and I doubt if there

were originally any windows towards the street. Tradition asserts that

this building was once inhabited by St. Thomas à Becket.

Besides these antiquities, Lyon boasts some remains of Roman

magnificence, which however, in their present condition, are more

interesting to the antiquary than to the architect. The principal is an

aqueduct, a considerable fragment of which I visited, but it is so

surrounded by high stone walls, that it was impossible to obtain a good

view. This aqueduct is the more curious, as according to M. Millin, it

is conducted across three of the deeper valleys, in leaden pipes, like

syphons reversed, descending the hill on one side, and ascending on the

other. I believe we have no other example of such a disposition in the

Roman aqueducts, and it has even been asserted that the ancients did not

know that water would always rise to its level.

There is an ancient crypt under the church of St. Irene, which is

attributed, perhaps on no solid foundation, to the Romans. It is a

continued vault supported on columns and arches. There is not sufficient

character in its architecture to enable me to pronounce on the time of

its erection, but I should doubt its being prior to the eleventh

century.

Letters of an Architect, From France, Italy, and Greece. Volume 1 [of 2] · 第 13 / 47 段