Situated as it was, amidst what was termed the _Pré-aux-Clercs_, the

resort of students and other bellicose persons, it became necessary to

guard against assaults and incursions, by surrounding the monastic

buildings with fortified walls and a moat, strong gates and

watch-towers, from whence to keep an eye upon dangerous neighbours.

Later, when students at the University had become more civilized, when

danger of civil war had faded away, and the Huguenots had been

suppressed, streets took the place of the moat, and houses occupied the

site of the fortifications. At the commencement of the last century the

monks built several large houses from plans by Victor d'Ailly, for

artisans and labourers; but for the privileges obtained by living within

the abbey precincts they paid a heavy rental. These habitations formed

the Rues Childebert, Ste. Marthe, Cardinale, Abbatiale, and de

Furstemberg--all within the walls. Originally there were two cloisters

situated to the north of the church, but with the exception of a portion

of the larger one, which has been converted into dwelling-rooms, they

have been completely destroyed. The round arches and Doric pilasters

belong to the 17th century; the older part, which was built by Abbot

Eudes, was cut through and improved away, for the completion of the Rue

de l'Abbaye. The same streets, and the houses thereof, have also to

answer for the destruction of the refectory, the chapter-house, the

great sacristy, and the Lady Chapel, to which the little cloister gave

access. The refectory was a large hall constructed during the life of

Abbot Simon by the celebrated architect of the Sainte-Chapelle, Pierre

de Montereau. It was filled with stained glass bearing the arms of

France and of Castille, some fragments of which may be seen in the

church. The stone statue of Childebert, that stood at the entrance

gorgeous with painting and gilding, is now in the Renaissance Museum of

the Louvre. Dom Jacques Bouillart, describing the refectory as built

between 1239-44, speaks of this statue as "apparently modelled upon a

more ancient one."[87] De Montereau was also the artist-builder of the

chapel of the Virgin, commenced under abbot Hugues d'Issy, who died in

1247, and finished under Thomas de Mauleon, who resigned his dignities

in 1255. This chapel had but one rival, the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of its

architect; but all authorities speak of the beauty and gracefulness of

the Lady Chapel, and its similarity to the Sainte-Chapelle in style and

plan. When the great architect died, in 1266, the then abbot Gérard de

Moret, desiring to perpetuate the memory of him who had done so much to

beautify the convent, caused a magnificent tomb to be erected in the

chapel of his creation. Pierre was represented with a rule and compass

in his hand, and the epitaph describes him as _Flos plenus morum_ and

_Doctor latomorum_.[88] Gérard be Moret was the builder of the chapter

house, an oblong edifice divided into two naves by a row of four central

columns, paved with encaustic tiles and illuminated with stained glass.

Passing behind the church down the Rue de l'Abbaye, is the abbot's

palace, a handsome stone and redbrick building erected by the Cardinal

de Bourbon, about 1586. At the summit of one of the pavilions is a

figure of a woman bearing the arms of the founder upon an escutcheon.

Fragments of the chapel of Our Lady, columns, capitals, gargoyles,

balustrades, and other remains of ornament which were found in a garden

hard by, have been placed in the grounds of the Hôtel Cluny; but the

statue of the Virgin and Child, which was formerly upon a pier, was sent

some years ago to S. Denis.

The gaol was rebuilt in the 17th century, and was flanked by four

turrets. It was the scene of many horrors from time to time, the abbots

possessing the power of punishing as well as of trying criminals; and

during the Revolution it was filled with priests and nobles, who

suffered for the crimes of their forefathers, as well as for their own,

being the scene in 1792 of the hideous September massacres. It was

afterwards used as a military prison, and in 1854 was pulled down. The

library was justly celebrated for its manuscripts, printed books, and

other objects of value; but was destroyed by fire at the commencement of

the Revolution.

[Illustration: SAINT-GERMAIN DES PRÉS.]

The only part of the church which contains any remains of Childebert's

structure is the apse, into the triforium of which are built some early

white marble capitals and some various coloured marble shafts; but

inasmuch as they have been painted over, all interest in them is

destroyed.

The earliest part of the present church dates from the beginning of the

11th century, the choir and apse from the second half of the 12th

century. The best view of the apse with its flying-buttresses is to be

obtained from the garden of the abbot's palace; but since the clearing

away of the houses which formerly were almost built on to the church,

and the planting of gardens round it, the view is very picturesque from

any point. An insignificant 17th century porch leads to the west door,

which is underneath the tower, and has, in its tympanum, a much

mutilated bas-relief of _The Last Supper_. The tower has been so much

restored and renovated from time to time that little of the original

remains. It has a high, but stumpy spire covered with slates. Dom

Bouillart relates that on the 2nd November, 1589, Henri IV. mounted to

the top of it (accompanied by only one ecclesiastic) to examine the

situation of Paris; and, continued the monk, "He afterwards walked round

the cloisters, and without speaking one word, departed." Of the other

two towers which were formerly at the angles of the choir and transepts,

nothing remains but the bases, which were considered necessary for the

support of the church. It seems that they were pulled down about 1822,

to save the expense of their restoration! a piece of vandalism which

destroyed the originality of the building and the _raison d'être_ for

its nickname of "_l'Église aux Trois Clochers_."

The building is 265 feet long, 65 feet broad, and 59 feet high. The nave

is divided into five bays, the choir into four, and the apse into five;

but these latter are much narrower than those of the nave. In the 17th

century, the timber roof of Abbot Morard gave place to a stone vault,

the transepts were rebuilt, and the nave much altered; but quite

recently it has been restored to its primitive condition and decorated

with frescoes by Hippolyte Flandrin. The church having been used during

the Revolution as a saltpetre manufactory, the corrosive waters had so

undermined the foundations of the pillars that they were obliged to be

supported by enormous scaffoldings while the bases were repaired.

The choir and the apse are surrounded by square and polygonal chapels.

The lower arches are round, the upper pointed; the intermingling being

in no way inharmonious. Most of the present capitals are copies of the

twelve remaining original ones which were transferred to the garden of

the Hôtel Cluny; but they are of very inferior workmanship. The subjects

treated are various: Angels, Saints, the Lamb of God, Daniel surrounded

by the lions, priests celebrating the Holy Mysteries, Samson breaking

the jaw of the lion. The old capitals are rough, but full of character,

whereas the modern ones are utterly devoid thereof. A few of the old

ones may be studied embedded in the walls of the aisles; the subjects

being: The Visitation, The Birth of Christ, Warriors costumed as Roman

soldiers, Syrens, male and female, surrounded by fish, interlaced

serpents, hippopotami holding smaller beasts between their paws, and

other quaint imagery peculiar to the Romanesque period. In the Hôtel

Cluny may also be seen the upper part of an early ivory crozier

belonging to the abbey, which was found in a coffin during some

excavations in 1854--and some fragments of stone coffins. The choir,

beautiful in its vigorous simplicity, remains as the 12th century left

it. It was dedicated by Pope Alexander III., on the 21st of April, 1163;

and on the same day Hubald, bishop of Ostia, assisted by three other

bishops, consecrated the apsidal chapels. On entering the church at the

west end, and looking towards the altar, it will be seen that the

building deviates considerably from a straight line, which M. Guilhermy

ascribes rather to difficulties of construction, which always occur when

a new building is placed amongst older ones of which it is to be a part,

than to the legend which attributes this arrangement (so common in

Mediæval churches) to the position of our Lord upon the Cross. S.

Étienne du Mont is even more out of a straight line--it turns more than

any church I have seen. The columns resemble those of Notre-Dame in

their massiveness. All the arches of the choir and chapels are round,

but those of the apse and clerestory are pointed. The capitals of these

choir pillars are all worthy of study, being in the best style of the

period, and full of the quaint symbolism of the Middle Ages: human heads

of a grotesque style, lions, harpies, birds pecking vigorously at the

heads of men and women, griffins, and winged animals. The bases are all

ornamented with foliage; but between the second and third chapels on the

south side is an example of ornament which is probably unique, viz., two

slippers, one embroidered and one plain, evidently those of a bishop or

abbot.

[Illustration: A CAPITAL OF THE CHOIR.]

The original High Altar, renovated in 1704, has been destroyed since

1792, up to which time it had existed in all its pristine beauty and

splendour. The frontal was of gilt copper, with silver-gilt figures

under canopies; and upon the retable rested the _châsse_ of S. Germain,

a magnificent specimen of smithcraft enriched with precious stones. It

was made in the time of Abbot Guillaume III., about 1408 or 1409, and

contained twenty-six marks two ounces of gold, 250 marks of silver, 260

precious stones, and 197 pearls. One would like to know what became of

so many gems. Six of the cipolin columns of the baldachino, which were

brought from the ruins of a Roman town upon the African coast in the

reign of Louis XIV., are now doing duty in the gallery of paintings of

the Louvre. The tomb of S. Germain, which was the scene of so many

miracles and wonders, has been suppressed and covered up by the

pavement. It was sunk below the level of the church, near the fourth

column of the choir on the north side, and for centuries was a favourite

spot for prayer and meditation. The chapel of S. Symphorien, at the end

of the nave on the south side, is modern, having been consecrated by the

great teacher, S. François de Sales, on the 27th April, 1619; the

monument which marked the first burial-place of S. Germain being no

longer in it. The chapels of S. Marguerite and of S. Casimir, in the

transept, are ornamented with marble columns. That of the Blessed Virgin

is modern, and in wretched taste; and the High Altar, the first stone of

which was laid by Pius VII., is equally out of keeping with the rest of

the church.

In an apsidal chapel are some fragments of 13th century glass,

representing SS. Anna and Joachim, The Annunciation and the Marriage of

the Virgin. In the south side of the nave is a large marble statue,

called Notre-Dame la Blanche, given in 1340 by Jeanne d'Évreux to the

Abbey of S. Denis. Placed at the Revolution in the Musée des

Petits-Augustins, it was afterwards transferred to S. Germain. The

marble statue of S. Marguerite is by one of the brothers of the convent,

Jacques Bourlet; and that representing S. François Xavier is by Coustou

the younger. The following tombs were partially restored in 1824: Jean

Casimir, King of Poland, who, having renounced his throne, became abbot

in 1669, and died in 1672 (the kneeling figure is by Marsy, the

bas-relief by Jean Thibaut, of the Congregation of S. Maur); Olivier and

Louis de Castellan, killed in the service of the king in 1644 and 1669

(the figures and medallions are by Girardon); William Douglas,

eighteenth Earl of Angus, who died in 1611, and his grandson James

Douglas, killed in 1645, near Douai, aged twenty-eight. The epitaphs,

which the Academy set up in 1819 to the memory of Nicholas Boileau, of

René Descartes,[89] of Jean Mabillion, and of Bernard de Montfaucon,

which were formerly at the Musée des Petits-Augustins, were placed here

on the dispersal of that museum. Boileau reposed formerly in the

Sainte-Chapelle, and Descartes at S. Geneviève. What remained of the

royal tombs was transferred to S. Denis. Of the riches of the Treasury

nothing whatever was saved; it was all pillaged and dispersed.

The whole church has been painted in polychrome; red shafts and gilded

capitals, a blue-and-gold starred vault. All round nave, transepts, and

choir, just below the clerestory, are the exquisite frescoes by

Flandrin, one of the few 19th century religious painters who has shown

the possibility of uniting the sentiment of the early Florentine and

Flemish schools with the, in some respects, superior knowledge of the

modern. His work is so purely religious, and yet so essentially modern,

that one wonders whence he drew his inspiration. There is nothing of the

Archaic in his pictures; his figures are never attenuated, and yet the

sentiment is as full of piety as in the work of Angelico: it is as if

the Frenchman had drunk in the beauty of form of the Greeks, and

amalgamated it with the faith of the Early Christians. And yet there is

none of the false sentimentality of the modern school, the Saints who

simper, and the milk-and-water misses bearing palm branches and crowns,

and calling themselves martyrs. Flandrin's is essentially a masculine

type of art; it is powerful as well as graceful, vigorous as well as

refined. His Saints and Angels have all the sweet expression of those of

Fra Angelico and Filippo Lippi; while they are as perfectly modelled as

a Greek Apollo, or the figures of Buonarroti and Raffaello. But Flandrin

was not ashamed of calling himself a believer in the doctrines and

mysteries of the Christian faith, and in the Biblical subjects which he

was called upon to illustrate. The man who considered religious painting

to be "the height of Art, and the most worthy employment of genius," and

who wrote upon the door of his studio, "Thou, Lord, hast made me glad

through Thy work, I will triumph in the works of Thy hands," could not

have been, as a Christian, on a much lower level than Fra Angelico, who

is said to have painted while assuming the attitude of prayer. Flandrin

was the favourite pupil of Ingres, and won the Grand Prix de Rome of

1832. Humble-minded, gentle, courageous, he worked for love rather than

for fame or money. His early struggles when he first arrived in Paris

from his native place were terrible. He lived in a veritable garret with

his brother, sacrificing anything in order to work at painting. Often in

winter they went to bed at 5 o'clock in the afternoon to escape the cold

of their attic. Their dinner was frequently some fried potatoes bought

at stalls in the streets and squares; and it is probably to the

privations endured for love of art that his bad health and early death

may be attributed. But his enthusiasm carried him on; and he lived long

enough to count his sacrifices as nothing compared to his successes. He

stands out in this 19th century an example to all artists, and as the

one man who can be compared to the blessed monk of Fiesole.

Like so many artists, he had to surmount many a home obstacle; and,

being the fourth of a family of seven children, with two brothers

devoting themselves to their father's calling, it is no wonder that the

good mother wished Hippolyte to try some trade by which he could live.

The father had been ambitious; but had been obliged to give up _genre_

for miniature painting. The boys, however, plodded on, and sketched all

that came in their way, which seems to have been mainly soldiers; and

when a sculptor named Fayatier, happening to see their drawings, gave

them a little encouragement, the mother's opposition melted, and they

entered the studio of Magnin at Lyons. There and at the Beaux-Arts, they

remained seven years, selling drawings and lithographs wherewith to gain

a little nest-egg to enable them to go to Paris, the goal then, as now,

of ambitious students. It was little enough, but the journey, being

taken upon foot, the whole hoard was reserved for household expenses and

lessons. Once in the capital, the brothers resolved to put themselves

under M. Ingres, if he would allow them, and so encouraging was his

welcome, that a friendship soon sprang up between master and pupils.

Many traits in Ingres' character which came out in the history of the

Flandrins' early artistic career prove him to have been sympathetic to

the highest degree; and not a little pleasant is it to find that, when

he heard of his pupils' forced asceticism, he exclaimed, "And I was

taking their money!" Indeed, there are many anecdotes which prove as

much the love of the master for the pupils as the devotion of the pupils

for the master. He was inconsolable when Hippolyte failed to gain the

_Prix de Rome_. "You have no notion how hard it is for a young man's

hopes to be dashed to the ground!" he said to his wife; and he spoke of

him as the "Lamb which had been slaughtered." He knew that it was

unjust, and he felt the injustice as much as if it had been done to

himself.

The account Hippolyte gives his brother Auguste of the whole affair is

most touching.[90] "_Mon bon ami, mon cher_ Auguste, I have experienced

the last trial in competing for the _Grand Prix_, but it has been

dreadful! The subject was a figure in painting, three feet high. I

executed it, and yesterday was the day of the decision. I was satisfied

with myself, and was hopeful, _mais tu verras_. M. Ingres, M. Guérin, M.

Granet, and three other members of the Institute, on entering the

exhibition hall, wished to place me first. _Mais non_: M. Gros and his

party carried it otherwise; and instead of _first_, I have been voted

_last_. M. Ingres, in despair, at length left the room, protesting with

all his might against the proceedings of the meeting; and I have not

been received. You may imagine what I felt when I heard I was

excluded.... I dared not call upon M. Ingres; still I could not reproach

myself; my figure was far the best; I can say so without pride. At last,

in the evening, I determined to go. I found him at dinner, but he ate

nothing. Several members of the Institute had come to comfort him, but

he would not be consoled. He received me with, "Behold the lamb they

have slaughtered!" ... And all this with the accent of a heart so deeply

moved that tears filled his eyes. He made me sit at his table, dine

with him, and at last embraced me as a father would his son. I went away

and was comforted. Oh! what do not I owe to this man who has already

done so much for us, and who, on this occasion, has perhaps done

more.... But sometimes regret seizes me, for this would have been the

means of taking a great step.... And then it was the only way to show my

gratitude to M. Ingres; for to you, my brother, I can say that my good

master had founded great hopes on my picture." The next year the same

difficulties (want of money to pay for models, &c.) made him almost give

up the idea of competing; but getting some portraits to do, and knowing

that his master was keen upon the matter, he sent in his name. One of

his sitters happened to be a _gen-d'arme_, whom he had promised to paint

for 30 fs. When the portrait was finished, the man was so pleased that

he said to the painter, "_I promised you 30 fs., but here are 35 fs.!_"

Flandrin often said that he never was so pleased as when he received

those additional 5 fs.

But a greater enemy to work than poverty appeared--cholera, the scourge

of 1832. One of the competitors for the _Prix de Rome_ died on his way

to the school, and Hippolyte was attacked. He struggled against it, and,

weak though he was, he went on working; but at length he had to give

way, and for a whole month he was in bed. A few days before the time for

sending in the pictures, he returned to work, and managed to finish his

subject, which was at once pronounced as having the _Grand Prix_. At

Rome, Flandrin was in his element; he studied the great masters, and

drank in all their wisdom, working almost entirely upon religious

subjects. Even Ary Scheffer, then at the height of his fame, felt the

extreme beauty of his young rival's art. "No, I know nothing, nothing at

all," he said to Hippolyte, on seeing the latter's picture of _Jesus

with the Little Children_.

Flandrin's first commission for Church decoration was in his native

city, S. Severinus of Lyon; his second, S. Germain; but his greatest

work was the mural painting of S. Vincent de Paul, which he accomplished

some years later.

On the 21st of March, 1864, Flandrin died at Rome of small-pox, whither

he had gone for his health. He was buried at Père-la-Chaise; but the

funeral service was held in the church he did so much to embellish; and,

two years after, his friends placed a monument by M. Oudine to his

memory, upon the wall of the north aisle. It is composed of white

marble, four columns supporting a pediment, and resting upon a freize.

Below the bust is an epitaph which is little in keeping with the man or

the place:

À HIPPOLYTE FLANDRIN.

SES AMIS, SES ELÈVES, SES ADMIRATEURS, LYON, 22 MARS,

1809,--ROME, 21 MARS, 1864.

Not one word of what he loved above all things, his home, his country,

his art, and his God; and yet his friends, his pupils, and in fact

everyone acquainted with him, must have known that such a man would have

liked a few words upon his tomb which would have borne witness to the

depth of his religious feelings. Here is an extract from a letter to his

eldest brother which breathes through it his piety and his love of home:

"You cannot imagine how I long to see you and embrace you, as well as

the mother and father. Almost every night I fancy myself at Lyon, and

yesterday I was really angry with Paul (his brother, helper, and

fellow-student), because he awoke me just at the moment when I thought I

was kissing you. I was crying for joy.... Remember that we agreed to

pray for each other every evening. I never fail to do so, and I feel

sure our poor mother never forgets: she loves us so much, and she is so

far off. _Pauvre père, la bonne mère, vous n'êtes plus entournés par

tous vos enfants._"

The choir was the first part of S. Germain which was decorated, and it

is the most successful, the nave pictures being somewhat flat, and faded

in colour; but without the use of gold it was impossible to make the

subjects effective with the bright polychrome surroundings, and Flandrin

justly considered that the nave should be subordinate in splendour to

the choir and sanctuary. On the right and left of the commencement of

the choir are two large compositions: Christ entering into Jerusalem,

and The Way of the Cross, both upon gold grounds. Above these are the

twelve Apostles clothed in white, and the allegorical Virtues; and

higher still are the founders of the church, Childebert and S. Germain,

with the patron S. Vincent, Queen Ultrogothe, and abbot Morard. All

these works are full of intense feeling, and the group of the Blessed

Virgin and S. John have rarely been surpassed, from the pathetic point

of view, by any religious painter. There is a certain modernness about

them; the figures seem to emphasize the human element in our Lord's

person, the sympathy, the love, and the sorrow; there is no weak

sentimentality depicted--and yet the treatment adheres to the

conventional traditions. The richness of the gold around, too, enhances

the beauty of the compositions, and makes them almost as gorgeous as

mosaics.

The frescoes of the nave occupy the space between the arches and the

clerestory windows--in all, twenty compositions. The subjects are taken

from the history of our Lord, and the corresponding Old Testament types.

The two pictures forming one subject in each architectural division,

show how perfectly the arts of painting and architecture may be made to

harmonize, to be welded together as it were, although seven centuries

separate the builder from the decorator. Except for a certain modernness

of style, Flandrin might have lived and worked with the original

architect, for his plan is that so often seen in the works of the

Mediævalists, as for instance in the _Biblia Pauperum_.

In the first arcade on the left, on entering the church, we see The

Annunciation and the Burning Bush, and under the window the text:

"_Domine mitte quem missures es_" (Exodus iv. 13). The characteristic of

the first of these pictures is the simplicity of the Virgin's

expression, as she hears the Angels' message. Next comes The Nativity

and its type, The Fall, with the legend, _Per hominem mors, per hominem

resurrectio_ (1 Corinthians xv. 21). The figures of Adam and Eve are

excellent examples of the purity of form so commonly found in Flandrin's

work. The Nativity is treated in the conventional manner, except that

three Angels watch the child and its mother (who lie upon a rustic bed);

while behind them, a Seraph bears a banner upon which is written:

"_Gloria in, Excelsis Deo._"

This is followed by The Adoration of the Magi and Balaam, the text

being: "_Habitantibus in regione umbrae ... lux orta est_" (Isaiah ix.

2). The Old Testament subject depicts the moment when Balaam, taken to

the top of Pethor by Balak, blesses instead of curses the enemy. Before

them is the altar; around them are the princes of Moab, angry and

threatening; in the background are the tents of the children of Israel.

The victims are ready for the sacrifice, but to the astonishment of the

king and his followers, Balaam lifts up his voice and blesses those he

was brought to curse. _How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy

tabernacles, O Israel!_ This is one of the finest of the series.

The Churches of Paris, from Clovis to Charles X · 第 16 / 28 段