The main entrance is now by a beautiful porch to the north transept,

which is, unfortunately, rapidly decaying--as much of the other work

executed in Caen stone is doing everywhere. The small chapels of the

apse are roofed with most extraordinary stone roofs, of very steep

pitch, which at a little distance look like two great pinnacles, and

when seen close at hand look like nothing else that ever was built or

designed. There are very curious marks, in the exterior, of a change of

plan in some respects as the work went on, some of the choir windows

having been commenced with most elaborate mouldings outside as well as

inside, but altered either in one jamb or at their heads into a plain

double chamfer, in a most singular manner. There is some good arcading

commenced outside, and a beautiful arcade runs all round the inside

wall below the windows. The tower is just like Bretteville, but the

spire must have differed considerably from it; unhappily it was struck

by lightning some twelve years since, and there is now a poor slated

roof in place of the spire. The angle pinnacles still remain and I

think they prove that the transition from the tower to the spire must

always have been very abrupt. I think from the character of all the

detail and especially from the great love shown for the round trefoil,

that this church must have been designed by the same man who built the

eastern part of the cathedral at Bayeux. The mouldings are excessively

similar and the abaci are constantly used octangular in plan in

conjunction with square and circular.

An interesting road took us from Norrey to Bayeux, where we arrived at

3 P.M.

The general view of this cathedral is most magnificent,--owing to its

two completed and similar western spires and to the great height of

a central tower of flamboyant work capped with a pagan cupola which,

though of bad details and inconsistent with all the rest of the work,

certainly aids much in making the magnificence of the whole so great.

This central steeple is on the point of being taken down, I believe,

as the piers below are giving way; and the church is now filled

with timber shores, etc. I do not like the steeple but cannot help

regretting its loss....

There is a curious old chimney near the west front of the cathedral,

rising out of a modern house. Attached to a seminary near the

Hôtel Dieu is a good simple chapel of first-pointed date. It is a

parallelogram groined simply and lighted with windows of two lights in

each bay. The whole is wretchedly whitewashed everywhere and contrasts

strongly with the magnificent colour of the stonework throughout the

interior of the cathedral.

_June 27._

We left Bayeux at 11 A.M. in the diligence for S. Lô--I in the _coupé_,

my unfortunate wife in the dusty _rotunde_. The country was very pretty

indeed, quite like _good_ parts of England, and very grateful to my

eyes. The church of S. Loup, passed just after leaving Bayeux, has a

good Romanesque steeple capped with a low square spire and remarkable

for the great richness of its belfry stage and the eccentric narrowness

of the windows with buttresses between them. Two miles before entering

the town the cathedral of S. Lô comes in sight; and by the graceful

proportions of its two western spires gives promise of pleasure to the

ecclesiologist....

_June 29._

We left Coutances this morning at 7.30 for Hambye en route for

Avranche. The road was all the way excessively pretty, and gave an

admirable view of Coutances, with the cluster of towers and spires

which crowns the hill on which it stands.... I walked off alone to the

abbey. The situation is pretty; under a steep woody and rocky hill,

with a clear stream near, and woods and _riant_ hills and dales all

around. The entrance is by a very simple gateway, double in front

and single-arched behind.... A few paces from this gateway stands the

church, of whose west front no traces now remain, and some old and

rustic buildings to the south of it, which have only one old doorway

remaining.

The church is remarkable in its plan, having a nave without aisles, a

central tower, transepts with eastern chapels, aisles and chapels round

the choir. The end of the north transept is divided off by two arches

from the church, and was I think intended for a sacristy, corresponding

somewhat in position to the beautiful sacristy at Coutances--of which

cathedral this abbey church bears most marked evidence of being in

great degree a reduced and simplified copy. Two small chapels are

placed at the re-entering angles of the nave and transept, and,

supposing the choir to have extended to the western side of the

tower, these would have been most useful in allowing access to the

choir-aisles and transepts without passing through the choir itself.

The same point of arrangement occurs at Rayham abbey--also an aisleless

church--and would be necessary in all conventual churches of this

type. The effect of the interior is striking, owing to the excessive

lightness of the nave and to the great extension given by its aisles

to the width of the choir. The design of the choir is much like that

of Coutances--the same lofty proportions of columns, the same caps,

the same kind of clerestory window, and the same double lean-to roof

all round the choir, one side over the aisle and the other over the

chapels of the apse. The whole work looks early, though there are here

and there suspicious-looking mouldings and Murray says that the whole

church is of late date. If he is correct, it can only be, I think, on

the assumption that the builders of the present church used very nearly

stone for stone a large portion of the original first-pointed edifice.

The cloisters occupied the angle between the nave and south transept,

but no trace remains of them save the corbels which supported their

roof. A long range of old buildings still remains, south of the south

transept. On the ground floor they consist of: first, a small groined

room with a central column, and its groining and walls painted rudely

with patterns in distemper; second, of a long building divided by a row

of columns down the centre and entered by three open arches at the west

end, which we may assume to have been the chapter room; third, another

square room with a rude central column, also painted, and then another

room of that same kind; all these rooms are groined, and above them,

along the whole length of the building, extends a great hall with an

old timber roof, of such great size that it is difficult to surmise

its probable use unless it was that of a great dormitory arranged with

cubicles down its sides.[12]

[Illustration: THE AMBULATORY, CATHEDRAL OF TOURS]

ARCHITECTURAL NOTES IN FRANCE

(From the _Ecclesiologist_, 1858–59)

I

A short holiday among French churches has left so many pleasant

recollections of new ideas received, new thoughts suggested, ancient

memories revived afresh, that it is as impossible as it would be

churlish to refuse to communicate some notes of what I have seen;

and as they are asked for I proceed to give them, though they must

be more slight and generalizing than I could wish; for I have a very

profound conviction of the great grandeur of ancient French art, and

a corresponding sense of the danger of so treating it as to convey

too small a sense of its value to those who have not studied it for

themselves, or of offending those who are so happy as to have realized

that value to the fullest extent and from actual inspection of its

remains. It is needless to say that as the France of the present day

is an agglomeration of ancient and distinct provinces, so also in its

ancient buildings we can trace, without any difficulty, a variety of

different national or provincial styles: it would be strange indeed

were it not so. Even in England we have most striking varieties

in style confined, generally, within the boundaries of particular

dioceses; so that to understand ancient art aright, it is necessary to

have an exact acquaintance with the third-pointed work of Devonshire

and Cornwall as well as that of Norfolk and Suffolk, and to be able

to perceive all the difference between the first-pointed work of the

Yorkshire abbeys and that of Wells and Salisbury.

And if we have such marked differences in a country like this, we may

well expect a much greater variety in a country which, like France

in the Middle Ages, was not as now one great nation but divided into

sections antagonistic to each other and exercising little if any

reciprocal influence. It is easy, therefore, to map our France into

certain divisions, each containing within its boundaries a special

individual style of Gothic architecture, distinguished by notable

peculiarities, and each affording a separate field for very careful

study. Thus we have in the north of France distinct French styles,

in, first, Normandy, and secondly, the old Île de France and the

surrounding country, and thirdly, in the country bordering on Germany,

a style which is rather German than French in all its leading features.

Then going southward, we have, fourthly, a distinct Burgundian style,

and another, marked by extreme peculiarities, in Poitou and Anjou, and

(judging only by drawings, for I have never myself visited the extreme

south of France), again other styles, whose centres are respectively

at Clermont and at Arles. Of these various styles that of Normandy

presents a very great affinity to our own. It is there, and almost

only there, that we see the circular abacus, there only that we see

much attempted in the way of deep and complicated architectural

mouldings, whilst the general effect of many--especially among the

larger churches--is extremely English. The likeness is one of which we

may well be proud, for the architecture of this province is full of

beauty and interest to a degree second only to that of the district of

the old Île de France. Its very deficiencies, too, are English in their

character, for in going from Paris into the heart of Normandy, the one

thing which we notice more perhaps than anything else, is the general

absence of the figure sculpture to which we have become accustomed;

and this is the case also in England, where we have really hardly any

at all extensive remains of sculpture, and certainly none which can be

named with those whose pride it is to be the guardians of such churches

as the cathedrals of Chartres, Paris, Amiens, Laon, or Rheims.[13]

The study of the architecture of Normandy is therefore the proper and

natural sequel of a complete and careful study of English architecture,

and may be entered on with the less hesitation as I believe I may

safely venture to say, that what is learned there will be in no sense

foreign either to the precedents or the sympathies of England.

The churches of Anjou, Poitou, and Touraine, appear to me to be of

much less value for architectural study: though from the connection

which was maintained between our own country and those parts of France

during a long period of the Middle Ages, it is impossible but they

should present much that is of the greatest interest to the English

student. I have looked, however, in vain for evidence, either in

the general design or in the details of their architecture, of any

influence exercised by the English upon their art. In fact, when we

held the country, we held it as conquerors not as colonists, and we

left no mark of ourselves, but let the people go on building for us and

for themselves in their own way. And their way was full of peculiarity,

perhaps more so than that of any other part of France. They had their

own system of planning, their own system of groining: and this, it

should be remarked, is sure, if it has any peculiarity, to exercise a

most powerful and obvious effect upon the whole architecture. There is,

however, a heaviness, a repetition of the same idea, and an absence

of delicate skill, as well as of bold architectural inspiration,

which to my mind marks all the buildings in these parts inferior,

not only to the best French work, but also to that of Normandy and

of England. And now I go on naturally to say that I believe the best

work in France is that which I described shortly as that of the old

Île de France and the surrounding country; it is that which I have

studied the most carefully, and love the most of any architecture

that I know; it is one which presents no features unsuitable for our

country, or inconsistent with the demands of our climate; it is one

from the study of which I believe we should all derive an immense

benefit, for it were wellnigh impossible to spend much time among the

works of art which it so bountifully affords without being strongly

impressed with the stern grandeur and masculine character of the men

who conceived it, and without being elevated in our whole tone of mind

so far as we have been impressed. A district which affords examples

such as Rouen cathedral, S. Quentin, Amiens, Noyon, Laon, Soissons,

Meaux, Rheims, Troyes, Chartres, Notre Dame of Paris, Mantes, S. Leu,

S. Germer, Senlis, Beauvais, and others, must be conceded to be, if not

the best, certainly the richest field for the study of our art in all

Europe; and it is mainly to this district that I will take you, with

this expression of my extreme veneration for the art enshrined in its

architectural remains.[14] ...

At Beuzeville, where the Fécamp branch joins the main line of railway

to Rouen, it is worth while to walk a mile and a half to the church,

not because it is a fine building, but rather because it illustrates

well enough the differences between French and English ideas about

village churches. The unbroken nave, thirty-three feet wide and

sixty-nine feet in length, with its arched boarded roof,--the central

groined tower with a spire springing some four or five feet below the

ridge of the nave roof,--and the hipped vestry roof, are all unlike

English work, yet the whole effect is particularly good notwithstanding

the poverty of style, which is late flamboyant. There are four rows of

fixed seats all down the nave--modern, of course.

From Beuzeville to Rouen the railway took me over ground well known

to the majority of English travellers, and I would not say a word

about Rouen, were it not that the strong popular delusion which has

elevated the church of S. Ouen into its great attraction deserves to

be protested against always. And, this, not because the church is not

very fine and very pretty--it is both--but because S. Ouen-worship

leads people to miss altogether, or only to half see and understand

the extreme value and beauty of the cathedral. I have seen this often,

and I find that, unlike some other churches, each time I see it I

discern new beauties and new value in its art; and it lies so near to

us, and teaches us so much not to be learnt in England, and yet of the

utmost value to all of us, that I do not know how to express myself

sufficiently strongly as to the advantage of a careful study of it

to all workers in the revival. Indeed I think that the Architectural

Museum could perhaps do more for art by helping young carvers to go

for a time to Rouen for study, than by adding to their collection a

multitude of casts which are often of necessity of doubtful excellence.

The thing may be difficult to accomplish, but it ought to be done,

for this one cathedral contains such an abundance and variety of

sculpture as would almost put to the blush all our churches combined.

The western doors of the north and south aisles are, to my taste,

the most exquisite portions of the church. Their style is so early,

and so immediate a deduction from Byzantine or Romanesque work that

I can fancy a man, who had been taught to believe in the absolute

perfection of our English fourteenth-century style, would be long

before he appreciated to the full their perfection. They are moreover

of a kind of work which is as rare as it is excellent. In England we

have nothing, to the best of my belief, of similar style. I remember

that Mr. Scott once suggested to me the probability that they were

executed by the same man who executed the doorways in the west front

of Genoa cathedral, and the suggestion evidenced fully his sense of

the extreme rarity of the work. I believe, however, that they are

examples of a style which was not that of an individual only. That it

owed much to Italy I have little doubt: for even if there had been no

trace of an Italian influence in the extreme delicacy of the whole

of the sculpture, in the twining foliage of the door jambs, and the

very singular and graceful foliage of the archivolts, yet it might, I

think, have been detected indirectly. For in this same church, in the

aisle round the apse, there still remains a monument of an Archbishop

Maurice, the Italianizing character of which is most marked, and at

the same time its details show that it is a work of precisely the same

school as the western aisle-doorways. None who have been in Italy can

forget the almost invariable type of the finer early monuments--a

simple arch, surmounted immediately by a gable of very flat pitch, and

supported on detached shafts. They will remember them at Verona often,

in Venice, in Genoa, in Perugia, and indeed in all directions and of

all dates; well, in this monument, we have the same thing, a round arch

exquisitely adorned with angels (whereof two in the centre bear up the

soul of the archbishop) and immediately above the arch a very flat

pediment or gable. Perhaps, too, it is an Italian influence, which is

evidenced in another respect in the decorations of the western doors.

The alternate orders of the arch are simply chamfered, presenting in

section three sides of an octagon, and these are covered with regular

sunk patterns of the simplest kind, but marvellously effective. Go

from Rouen to Genoa and you find the western doorways executed in

marble, every plain surface in which is inlaid with geometrical

patterns,--light patterns on dark ground, and dark on light. The effect

is very similar in the two places: at Genoa the very best materials

were to be had: and at Rouen where nothing but common stone was used,

the artist struck out a system which produced an effect all but equal

to that obtained at Genoa. And yet with all this similarity I am not

disposed to class these two buildings together as the work of one

man. The architect of Genoa loved mouldings much more than did the

architect of these doorways; and I think I have met with a sufficient

number of traces of similar work to convince me that it was the style

of a class, not of a man, and one of those many and glorious phases

through which our art in her rapid progress passed. The western doors

at Mantes are very similar in their detail; those of Chartres--what a

study they are!--partake largely of the same spirit; in the western

façade of Notre Dame, Paris, there are traces of it; in Notre Dame,

Châlons-sur-Marne, the south doorway was identical in character, and

fragments of work of the same style have been discovered in the course

of lowering the floor of that church to its ancient level; and in S.

Germer, in the chapter-house of S. Georges de Boscherville, in the

western doorway of Angers cathedral, and in parts of S. Remi at Rheims,

I think we see the same style more or less developed. Undoubtedly the

work at Rouen is the most excellent of all, just as it occupies the

central position in point of date.

I am not afraid to confess that the whole of these examples are largely

Byzantine in their character; in my eyes this is a virtue, not a fault;

for I believe that it is here perhaps more than anywhere else that we

may succeed in developing from our forefathers’ work. There seems to be

here a mine of untold wealth, the workings into which were no sooner

commenced than they were abandoned: and the style seems to be one

which affords special opportunity for meeting our great difficulty at

the present day, as it indicates a mode of obtaining rich decorations

without being dependent for effect entirely on a horde of slovenly

carvers, who, without an idea in their heads, ruin all the rest of our

work by their failure in its sculpture.

This is a digression, but the subject was tempting: I will only

say further, as to these remains at Rouen, that they have the rare

advantage of not having been restored, and that they are entirely

covered in all parts with work of almost uniform excellence, though, to

my taste, the north-west door (the tympanum of which contains the life

of S. John the Baptist) is the finest. The effigy of Archbishop Maurice

is singularly elaborated: the patterns on the vestments, the details of

the censers, and indeed all parts, being finished with the elaboration

of a genuine Pre-Raphaelite. Before modern sculptors sneer at these

twelfth century works, I wish that they would themselves attempt to

produce even one block of stone, a foot square, as well wrought, and I

doubt not they would profit by the lesson, novel though it might be.

The western doors of the aisles are placed between large buttresses,

and arches are thrown over them from buttress to buttress. Between the

arches of the doors and these upper arches, a small space of plain wall

remained, which has been treated in the most ingenious manner. Figures

are marked in outline on the stone, which were, I think, painted, and

the ground throughout is diapered with a very simple pattern sunk in

the stone. Over the south-west doorway was the Last Judgement: and over

the north-west, our Lord seated with angels and saints on either side.

In the former our Lord is seated on a throne, between two candles:

angels present souls to Him, other angels bear a soul in a sheet, and

others again on the right drive the wicked into hell.

I must say little more about Rouen; but I ought not to forget to notice

the fine and very varied treatment of the capitals throughout the nave,

and the thoroughly Norman (and English) effect of the immense numbers

of clustered shafts, of which all the piers are composed. The double

division in height of the main arcade is not easily accounted for; but

if it was owing to an alteration in the height of the building, while

it was in progress, it is a happy instance to be added to many others,

of the skill with which mediaeval architects seized upon difficulties

as the best opportunities for achieving successes.

The ground-plan of this cathedral is, I think, altogether one of the

best in France. In particular the _chevet_ is of great beauty. The

aisle round the apse, instead of being completely surrounded by

chapels, has its alternate bays only so occupied, with great advantage

in point of effect, both internally and externally. The arrangement is

almost identical with that of the fine _chevet_ of S. Omer cathedral,

and appears to me to be a happy mean between the one chapel at the east

end of Sens, and the cluster of chapels which crowd the apsidal ends

of almost all the great churches in the north of France. Whilst in its

plan it is more skilfully disposed than the somewhat similar _chevet_

of Chartres, it is preferable to those of Mantes and Notre Dame, Paris,

where there were no projecting apsidal chapels,[15] or Bourges, where

they are so small as to produce no effect.

The north-west tower (that of S. Romain), should be ascended, if only

to examine the framework of the roof and for the bells, and to note,

among other things, the open wooden staircase in its upper stage. The

view, too, of the city is finely seen; and I know few cities that

reward more bountifully any trouble taken in the attempt to see them

in this way. A city it is, indeed, of desecrated churches, but still a

city whose situation on the noble river winding here under great chalk

hills, and there along the edge of meadows green, flat and extensive,

fringed with long perspective lines of poplars, is as beautiful and as

happy as it can well be.

George Edmund Street: Unpublished Notes and Reprinted Papers · 第 8 / 26 段