thirty or forty feet of its northern side, and has in the same
transeptal position a great mass of tower, the outer flanks of which
are crowned with tall spires, whilst from the intermediate wall, and
raised above the others, rises the central spire; the mass of tower
is smaller, but nevertheless by dint of its slated spires, S. Severus
manages to rise higher than the cathedral. As may be imagined, the
whole group is one of most picturesque character. S. Severus has some
very good middle-pointed detail, especially in its window traceries.
It was late in the evening when I left the Dom-Platz, but I saw
hurriedly the exteriors of some eight or ten pointed churches. They
were mostly of the same date, _circa_ 1320 to 1400, and of very
various degrees of merit. One--the Prediger-Kirche is the not pleasant
dedication by which it is now known--is of enormous length as compared
to its width and height: fifteen bays to a church consisting of a not
very lofty nave with narrow aisles is an excess of this proportion;
its length cannot be less than about 225 feet. Near it, but apparently
having no connection with it, is a detached campanile.
In one of Erfurt’s many squares or market-places, is a good pointed
house, with a large bay window, and three traceried windows, one on
either side, and one above it in its gable end.
In another Platz is a church with two western steeples, one with
a spire rising from the gabled sides of the tower. Another church
occupies a triangular piece of ground, the tower being at the western
angle, between two streets. It is desecrated, and I could not get into
it, but its internal arrangement must be most singular.
These hurried notes are all that I could make. I was homeward bound,
and obliged to travel all night to Marburg. So I did what a pilgrim to
the shrine of S. Elizabeth of Hungary ought, I suppose, not to have
done--I slept as the train passed Eisenach, and neglected therefore,
even to get a glance through the starlight of the castle on the
Wartburg, her residence and the scene of most of the beautiful story of
her life.
It was early morning when Marburg was reached. Under high hills,
covered with vine and picturesque in their outline, stands the noble
church, conspicuous as one first sees it by its two completed and
nearly similar towers and spires rising in all the beauty of their
deep-coloured stonework against the green hillside which rises so
precipitously close behind them. On the summit of the hill are the
tall walls of the fine old castle, and to the left of the church and
below the castle the town covers the hillside with the ramifications
of its old steep and narrow streets. The church is perhaps rather too
much outside the town for the use of the townspeople; but then it was
not built for them, and in the general view it certainly gains much by
being placed where it is.
And now, before I say anything about the church, two or three dates,
which seem to be settled beyond dispute, may as well be mentioned.
S. Elizabeth of Hungary was born, then, in the year 1207, was married
when but fifteen years old, and ere she was twenty left a widow, her
husband having laid down his life in the third Crusade: three years and
a half of widowed life were all she saw before an early grave received
her; and from thence forward year after year saw fresh fervour excited
by the contemplation of her virtues, and fresh enthusiasm awakened
about the old city of Marburg, in which the last years of her life had
been spent in the practice of austerity and self-denial such as the
world has seldom seen. She was canonized in A.D. 1235; and in the same
year the church as we now see it was commenced, and completed by about
A.D. 1283.
More I need not say; for the life of her whose memory gave rise to
this grand architectural effort is foreign to my present purpose, and
moreover is too well known to need repetition.
Judging by the evidence of style--which is not however very strong,
as the whole work has been completed carefully upon a uniform plan--I
should say that the work commenced at the east, and was continued on
westward, so that the west front, with its two towers and spires, was
the latest portion of the work. I am inclined to think, too, that the
sacristy, a large building of two stories in height, filling the angle
between the north transept and the northern side of the choir, is an
addition to the original fabric, but probably earlier than the steeples.
The plan shows a very regular cruciform church, the choir and transepts
all having apsidal ends, a large sacristy, and two western steeples;
the whole very regular and similar in character throughout.
The exterior of the church is perhaps, with the exception of its west
front, more curious than really beautiful. Throughout its whole extent
every bay is similar, and consists of two stages, the upper an exact
repetition of the one below, each lighted with a simple two-light
window with a circle in the head, and divided by a great projecting
cornice, the top of which is on a level with the bottom of the upper
windows. The nave and aisles are all groined at one height without
triforium or clerestory; and the outer walls are, therefore, the full
height of the groining of the nave. Now this endless repetition of the
same windows in a manner so apparently unnecessary was at first most
perplexing to me, inconsistent as it seemed with the delicate taste
exhibited elsewhere by the architect; but I was not long perplexed.
The cornice between the windows was, in fact, a passage-way extending
all round the church in front of the windows and, by openings, through
all the buttresses: whilst in front of the lower windows a similar
passage, not corbelled out, but formed by a thinning of the wall from
this point upwards, again encircles the church. The sacristy is the
only portion of the building not so treated. The church has not and
never had cloister, chapter-house, or any of the ordinary domestic
buildings of a religious house, attached to it; it stood on a new piece
of ground, away from houses, and with an open thoroughfare all round,
and all this helps in the solution of its singular arrangements. We
have but to recall to mind that the relics of S. Elizabeth were visited
by more pilgrims for some two or three centuries than any other shrine
almost all Europe could boast of, to see the difficulty accounted for.
It was built from the first to be a pilgrimage church, and carefully
planned with an especial view to this. No doubt it was a great shrine,
round which thousands of pilgrims congregated in the open air, to watch
as processions passed with the relics they came from so far to see,
passing by these ingeniously contrived passages round the entire church
again and again, seen by all, but unencumbered by the pressure of the
multitude.
The whole arrangement is so curious that I have dwelt at some length
upon it, feeling that it certainly shows well how boldly a thirteenth
century architect ventured to depart from precedent when he found a new
want to be provided for, and when a before unthought of necessity had
arisen. I need hardly say, that the effect of the corbelled-out passage
is to divide the height distinctly into two parts, a division perhaps
more difficult of satisfactory treatment than any other that one can
imagine. The only variety in the tracery of the windows throughout
the body of the church is, that the centre window of each apse has a
sexfoil in the circle in its head, none of the other windows having any
cusping whatever. The moulding of the windows is very simple,--a very
bold roll and chamfer; and it is noticeable that in the tracery the
roll-moulding does not mitre with the same moulding in the arch, but is
just separated from it, an ungraceful peculiarity; the roll-moulding
of the tracery is treated as a shaft in the monial and jambs, and has
corbelled bases, the effect of which is not at all good. The buttresses
run up to the eaves, but finish abruptly without pinnacles, nor is
there any parapet. It seems probable that something must have been
intended, but possibly never done; and I confess I should shrink from
venturing now upon the introduction of either pinnacles or parapet,
and I cannot but trust that in the extensive repairs now in progress,
restorations of this conjectural kind will not be attempted. Better,
in such a case, let well alone, rather than run the risk of destroying
everything by some monstrous mistakes!
The west front is quite a thing to be considered apart from the rest of
the church, later in character, and the work, I am inclined to think,
of another man, who did not only this but all, or nearly all, the
magnificent fittings of the interior. The first man worked under the
trammels of a transitional style, endeavouring after yet not achieving
the beauties which the second man was able, in all that he did at a
more advanced day, so completely to realize.
The west door at once fixes one’s attention. It is very lovely: the
jamb perhaps too plain, and lacking mouldings between its shafts,
but the arch absolutely perfect; it has two rows of the freshest and
brightest stone foliage ever seen, and the tympanum--diapered over one
half with a trailing rose, and on the other with a vine, both creeping
naturally upwards with exquisite curve and undulation, regular in their
irregularity,--is certainly of a degree of exquisite and simple beauty
such as I have never seen surpassed. In the midst of this bower stands
a fine figure of S. Mary with our Lord in her arms, and on either
side an angel censing. As one looks at the carving, one thinks of the
prettiest perhaps of all the legends of S. Elizabeth, and it may be
that the sculptor, as he struck out the bold and beautiful work, which
even now surprises by its beauty and its sharpness, thought of those
roses of paradise with which S. Elizabeth in the legend surprised her
doubting husband.
Above this doorway a pierced parapet carries a passage in front of the
fine and thoroughly geometrical west window of six lights. Another
parapet, and then a row of traceries and canopies which mask the roof
gable. On either side the great buttresses of the steeples give an air
of solidity and plainness to the whole elevation, which I think very
satisfactory. A two-light window on the same level as the great west
window, and very long narrow belfry windows, also of two lights, are
the only openings in the towers. The buttresses finish with pinnacles,
and the towers with pierced parapets, above which, on the cardinal
sides, are gables with windows, and at their summit an octangular open
parapet, from which the spires then rise without further break or
ornament. The composition is unusual and very good.
Besides these western steeples there is a turret of poor and modern
character over the intersection of the transept and other roofs.
And now let us enter, and we shall find ourselves in what seems like
a very lantern; windows everywhere, tier above tier, and admitting a
flood of light which is bearable only when--as happily still in the
choir--all the windows are filled with the richest stained glass.
The architectural peculiarities of the exterior are as marked
but not as intelligible in the interior; and one cannot cease to
regret the effect of the reiteration of the same window everywhere:
otherwise, however, the interior is full of beauty; the nave piers
very simple--large circles with four engaged shafts--very lofty and
with finely carved capitals. The transept piers are clustered, and the
groining throughout is very simple, but of exquisite proportions.
And now I must go on to describe the fittings and arrangements of
this interior, which are so perfect as to make it, perhaps, the most
interesting and complete church in Germany.
The choir extends to the western side of the transepts, and is finished
towards the nave with a high stone screen, against the western side of
which is a large people’s altar. The screen is traceried and panelled
over its whole western surface, and surmounted by a delicate open
arcade finished with pinnacles and gablets; the portion over the altar
being elaborated so as to form a reredos rather than a screen. The only
openings in this screen are a row of small windows (as one may almost
call them), opening just above the backs of the stalls, which in the
choir are continued not only on the north and south sides, but quite
across the west side also. The only entrance to the choir, therefore,
is on either side from the transepts to the east of the stalls. On
the eastern face of the screen, a kind of large ambon is corbelled
forward in the centre, just the width of the people’s altar; and above
this rose--I say “rose,” for when I was there, it was lying on the
floor, as a first step to “restoration,” which may not, I trust, mean
“destruction,”--a grand trefoiled arch of timber, covered with very
boldly carved natural foliage, and flanked by two massive pinnacles.
All trace of the figures is gone, but there can be no doubt that this
arch and the pinnacles bore on their summits the Crucifix with the
figures of S. Mary and S. John; and, indeed, the marks of their having
once been affixed still remain.
In the choir there is a double row of stalls round three sides, the
subsellae having low original desks in front of them. These are perfect
all round, and, as I need hardly say, valuable for their rarity. The
stalls are finely treated, and the upper row is well raised. The effect
of the whole is most singular and very new to an English eye, for
though, as I had occasion to show at Naumburg, and as I saw elsewhere
in the same part of Germany, stalls against the centre of the eastern
side of a screen are not uncommon, I have nowhere else seen such a
complete shutting-off of the choir from the church as has from the very
first existed here. There is a space between the back of the stalls and
the rood-screen, in which probably an entrance was originally contrived
to the ambo under the rood, though of this no trace now remains.
There are no parcloses between the choir and the transepts, whilst
between the latter and the aisles of the nave there are only rude and
modern screens, without any trace of the original arrangement.
And now that we are in the choir, the most noticeable feature is the
altar with its reredos, and its great standard candles on either
side.[79] The reredos is elaborately decorated with colour, and
consists of three very fine trefoiled arches with crocketed gables
above, and elaborate and lofty pinnacles between them. The spaces
within the three arches are much recessed, and ornamented at the back
with sculpture of figures in niches, and tracery; the whole very full
of delicate taste in its execution. The altar is perfectly plain and
solid, with a moulded mensa, and footpace of three steps in front
and at the ends. It stands, of course, on the chord of the apse. The
arrangement at the back of the reredos is most singular: there are
two lockers on either side, and in the centre a doorway, which when
opened discloses steps leading down to the space under, and enclosed
by, the altar. In this space there are five square recesses below the
level of the floor: three on the west side, and one at each end; the
dimensions of this chamber are 8 ft. by 3 ft. 6 in., and 7 ft. 3 in. to
the under side of the mensa of the altar; the recesses in it are 1 ft.
8¾ in. wide by 1 ft. 7 in. deep. But one of the most singular features
in it is, that there were evidently originally sliding shutters in
front of each of the three recessed niches which form the front of the
reredos. These are all gone, but the grooves remain both above and
below, and leave not a shadow of doubt as to their former existence.
There are two grooves in front of each division, and of course there
are corresponding openings in the mensa of the altar. The arrangement
is so new to me, that it is difficult to say exactly for what specific
purpose it may have been made; but it seems obvious that it might allow
of great variety of decoration or illustration of subjects suited
to the varying seasons of the Christian year, supposing the sliding
shutters to have been decorated with paintings.
To the south of the altar are oak sedilia--a long seat undivided, but
with five canopies above: the work all good, but defective in not
having its divisions marked through the whole height.
The windows in the choir are, as I have before observed, full of fine
stained glass, some of which is of very early character. The lower tier
of windows is filled with subjects in medallions, the upper with two
rows of figures and canopies--a satisfactory and common arrangement in
old work.
Some old lockers in the walls, and banners suspended round the apse,
serve to complete a most striking and long-to-be-remembered _tout
ensemble_.
Unfortunately there are no signs of any ancient pavement, unless we
take for old the wretched gravestones of the Landgraves of Hesse
and their family, which almost cover the floor. They are effigies
of recumbent figures in not very low relief, but partly sunk below
the proper level of the floor and partly raised. One stumbles over
these wretched man-traps at every step, and wishes heartily that such
a device for damaging ankles had never been invented. In the south
transept there are a number of high tombs with recumbent effigies,
beginning with one of early date and fine character.
The north transept, however, contains something better than these
monuments, and one of the greatest curiosities of the church--the
chapel, as they call it, of S. Elizabeth. It never had an altar, and
was not a chapel, but simply a very beautiful kind of tabernacle,
within which was deposited the marvellously beautiful shrine in which
were preserved the relics of the saint, and which--now removed to the
sacristy--is still the great treasure of the church. The relics were
all dispersed, I believe, at the time of the Reformation, though the
church is still held by the Catholics. This tabernacle, if I may so
call it, is a rectangular erection, narrow at the east and west, and
with its principal front towards the south. A trefoiled arch on each
face, supported upon clusters of shafts at the four angles, forms the
design, the arches inclosed within a square projecting moulding, with
their spandrels not carved but bearing marks of painting. The great
beauty of the work is the exquisite foliage which is carved in such
masses all round the arches and elsewhere as quite to take the place of
mouldings. All this foliage is natural, much varied, and undercut with
such boldness as to stand out in very great relief. I would that every
carver in England could have the opportunity to study this exquisite
work, and still more, the sense to profit by it. All the openings are
filled in with iron grilles; and the whole is just large enough to
contain and protect the shrine. It stands upon double steps, which are
prolonged to form a footpace for an altar which has been built against
its west side, and which, on the south, are worn into hollows by the
knees of pilgrims.
Above the stone work is an open wooden railing, apparently of the same
date; and this incloses a space which is reached by a staircase from
behind. In the reredos of the altar erected against the shrine are
some sculptures from the life of the saint, her death, her burial,
and the exaltation of her relics after canonization, etc., whilst on
the shutters are paintings representing some of the more remarkable
subjects in her story.
The shrine has been removed for safety to the sacristy, and is
carefully guarded and fenced about with ironwork, as well it may be.
It is an exquisite work of the best period--_circa_ 1280–1300--covered
with the most delicate work in silver-gilt and adorned profusely with
jewels and enamels, and on the whole I think the finest shrine I have
ever seen.
The doors in the sacristy and elsewhere throughout the church are of
deal, and were originally covered with linen or leather, which as
far as I could make out was always coloured a bright red; it is a
most curious evidence of the extent to which colour was introduced
everywhere, and must have been most effective. It is not, however, the
only instance with which I have met; and I may mention the magnificent
north transept doors of the cathedral at Halberstadt as examples of the
same thing.
Between the north transept and the sacristy is a passage, which leads
to the external passages which I have already described as surrounding
the whole exterior of the church.
My notice of Marburg has already extended far beyond what I purposed,
though not beyond its deserts; and yet I cannot conclude without saying
a few words about the castle, which so grandly towers over the old
tower and church.
The climb up to it is really a serious business; and when I reached the
summit I had to exhibit no little adroitness in passing a sentinel who
obstinately wanted to send me back, in order that I might ascend by
some more tortuous and more legal path than I had chosen.
I went first into the chapel. This is raised to a considerable height
upon other buildings, and approached by a newel staircase. It is a very
curious and very satisfactory little building, its entire length 39
ft., and its width 18 ft. 6 in. There is a three-sided apse at either
end, and one bay only between them; this central bay has projections on
either side, which inside have the effect of very small transepts, and
externally are treated as bay windows. The windows are all geometrical,
of two lights, and very good detail. Externally, there are buttresses
at the angles of the apse, which rise out of the much thicker walls of
the rooms below the chapel, and do not go down to the ground. In the
eastern apse there are a piscina and a locker. The old pavement still
remains; it is all of red tile, arranged in large circles, with tiles
generally triangular in shape and of various sizes. Unfortunately, this
little chapel is full of galleries and pews.
From hence I ascended to the Ritter-Saal, a fine large groined hall,
somewhat like the well known hall in the Stadt-Haus at Aix-la-Chapelle.
It is divided by a row of columns down the centre, from which the
groining-ribs spring, and is about 100 feet long by 42 feet wide.
Each bay has a very fine four-light transomed window, and the whole
is of early date. Below it, on the ground floor, is a smaller hall,
the groining of which springs from a central shaft, and the windows
in which are of three and five transomed lights, and of very early
character.
The interest of both these halls is very great, as they are quite
untouched, and of a rare date for domestic work on such a scale.
The exterior of this portion of the buildings is very fine, boldly
buttressed, with great angle turrets, and occupying just the edge of
the cliff.
The castle stands upon a narrow prong of hill, very precipitous on
three sides, and all around its base the town clusters; on one side
is the grand church of S. Elizabeth, looking most admirable in this
capital bird’s-eye view, and on the other a long flight of steps
leads to a church which from above looks very well, but which did
not repay examination, its only interesting feature being an old
_Sakraments-Häuslein_.
I walked back from the castle by a roundabout path all through the old
town, and reached my inn too late to get on to Frankfort by the train I
had fixed on; but I was not sorry, as I had an excuse for getting some
more sketches of the exterior of the cathedral, and had all the more
pleasant thoughts wherewith to solace myself as I travelled through the
dark night to Frankfort.
I think I have said enough to show that ecclesiologists may depend
upon pleasure of no ordinary kind in visiting such churches as those
of Naumburg, Erfurt, and Marburg. They are remarkable, not only for
their generally fine character, but more especially for their exquisite
sculpture and for the extent to which they have preserved almost
untouched and undamaged their extraordinarily beautiful furniture and
fittings; and are, therefore, of especial value to us, who have so
little of the same kind of thing left in our own churches.
IV
MÜNSTER AND SOEST