flank the nave and somewhat spoil the effect of the exterior. In this
respect, the cathedral of Paris cannot be compared to those of Reims and
Chartres, which have no chapels between the buttresses. They were added
to Notre-Dame in 1270, Jean de Paris, archdeacon of Soissons, having
bequeathed 100 _livres_ for their construction. The chapels of the
_chevet_ were finished at the end of the 13th or beginning of the 14th
century. An inscription at the entrance of one of them, S. Nicaise,
placed upon the pedestal of a statue of Simon Matiffas de Buci, recorded
that this chapel and the two next were founded by the bishop in 1296,
and that the others were added subsequently. This precious relic was
discovered at S. Denis among a number of others from different churches.
One of these gives the name of Canon Pierre de Fayet[108] as the donor
of 200 _livres_ towards the _histoires_ which surround the choir, and
some new glass; and another gives the names of the sculptors of these
same _histoires_, the Masters Jean Ravy and Jean le Bouteiller, who
carved them in 1351. It must be remembered that the great churches of
the Middle Ages were more the work of the people than of the nobility,
and thus we find that the armorial bearings upon old glass or upon the
pedestals of statues are mostly those of the different trades-guilds,
such as the bakers, the butchers, the woollen-drapers, the furriers, the
shoemakers, and the like. These, either as individuals or as corporate
bodies, enriched the old churches in money or in kind.
It must not be forgotten that the great churches of the Middle Ages
were, in a sense, the schools of the period. The people, not being able
to read, were instructed through the medium of sermons and stage plays;
they saw the histories of Saints, the story of the Gospel, and legendary
and historical matter carved in wood or stone upon all sides of them,
and they learnt their moralities by picture tales and clerical
discourses. Art was literally the handmaid of Religion, and the great
teacher; and being enriched by divers gifts, the churches became
receptacles for all kinds of treasures. Guillaume Durand, in his
_Rational des Divins Offices_, speaks of rare things, such as stuffed
crocodiles, ostrich eggs, and skeletons of whales, besides gold and
silver vessels, _intagli_, and _cameii_, as attractions for the people,
on the principle that he who comes to see may stay to pray. Churches
were, in fact, museums, and places in which to transact business; the
naves constantly being thus used.
Notre-Dame has two towers at the west end, and a _flèche_ over the
intersection of the nave, choir and transepts. This is modern; and why?
Because, in 1787, an architect was found who considered it well to
"amputate" the old one. Listen to Victor Hugo: "Un architect de bon gout
l'a amputé, et a cru qu'il suffisait de masquer la plaie avec ce large
emplâtre de plomb, qui ressemble au couvercle d'une marmite"--doubtless
that strange species of turret so common in London, familiarly termed a
pepper-box.
The western _façade_, though not so rich as that of Reims, is
nevertheless exceedingly beautiful. It is divided into three parts in
its width, and into four stories in its elevation.
Here is what our old friend Dibden says of it in his time: "Of
Notre-Dame, the West front, with its marygold windows, is striking both
from its antiquity and richness. It is almost black from age" (would it
were so now!)--"but the alto-relievos, and especially those above the
doors, stand out in almost perfect condition. These ornaments are rather
fine of their kind. There is, throughout the whole of this West front, a
beautiful keeping, and the towers are _here_ somewhat more endurable,
and therefore somewhat in harmony. Over the North transept door, on the
outside, is a figure of the Virgin--once holding the infant Jesus in her
arms. Of the latter only the feet remain. The drapery of this figure is
in perfectly good taste, a fine specimen of that excellent art which
prevailed towards the end of the XIIIth century. Above is an
alto-relievo subject of the _Slaughter of the Innocents_. The soldiers
are in quilted armour. I entered the cathedral from the Western door,
during service-time. A sight of the different clergymen engaged in the
office filled me with melancholy, and made me predict sad things of what
was probably to come to pass! These clergymen were old, feeble,
wretchedly attired in their respective vestments, and walked and sung in
a tremulous and faltering manner. The architectural effect of the
interior is not very imposing, although the solid circular pillars of
the nave, the double aisles round the choir, and the old basso-relievo
representations of the Life of Christ upon the exterior walls of the
choir, cannot fail to afford the antiquary very singular satisfaction.
The choir appeared to be not unlike that of S. Denis." Notre-Dame should
be visited by lovers of plain song. To hear forty men and boys chant
Gregorian tones, with _ad libitum_ accompaniments upon a small organ, is
a treat not to be forgotten. And note, the _small_ organ, for the large
one at the end of the nave is only used for voluntaries; thundering
accompaniments to the voices being unknown in Paris.
[ILLUSTRATION: NOTRE-DAME DURING SERMON.]
All the six doors of Notre-Dame bear distinctive names--the Porte du
Jugement, the Porte de la Vierge, and the Porte Ste. Anne, at the west
end; the Porte du Cloître, the Porte St. Marcel and the Porte Rouge, at
the east end. Each of these is divided into two openings by a central
pier, supporting a figure and surmounted by a tympanum; over which is a
deep _voussure_, peopled with sculptures innumerable. Tradition formerly
recorded a flight of thirteen steps rising to the west front; but the
excavations made in 1847 proved this to have been a mistake. If steps
existed anywhere, they were probably on the side of the episcopal palace
near the southern tower and leading down to the river. At the same time
there is no doubt that the church would gain in effect were it raised
above the roadway as is the case at Amiens. At present it is even a
little lower than the _place_, but allowing for the rising of the ground
during seven centuries, it is quite possible that the cathedral
originally had not the sunken appearance it has at present. In the
niches upon the great buttress are tour figures; S. Denis and S. Étienne
at the extremities, and two women crowned in the centre. These represent
a very common conceit of the Middle Ages, the Church and the Synagogue,
the one triumphant, the other defeated.
Above the portals is the gallery of the Kings of Judah, the ancestors of
the Virgin, and perhaps typical of the sovereigns of France. The gallery
of the Virgin is still higher, and upon it in the centre stands the
queen of Heaven with attendant Angels, Adam and Eve being above the side
doors. Higher still we come to the tower galleries presided over by
delightful monsters of various zoological tribes. Nothing gives a
visitor to Notre-Dame a better notion of the richness of its sculptures
than mounting to this gallery, whence he obtains a full view of the roof
and the towers, with their numerous pinnacles, crockets, finials,
gargoyles and statues.
Unfortunately the great central portal was hopelessly wrecked by
Soufflot in 1771 in order to increase its width for processions; it is
one of the many examples which prove the fact that the "stupidity of
man" has done more harm to old buildings than time or even disastrous
riots and revolutions. In 1773 and 1787, so-called restorations, by
architects who ought to have known better, still further mutilated the
church.
[Illustration: THE ROOF AND FLÈCHE.]
[Illustration: ANIMALS ON ONE OF THE TOWERS.]
Listen to Victor Hugo once more: "Il est difficile de ne pas soupirer,
de ne pas s'indigner devant les dégradations, les mutilations sans
nombre, que simultanément le temps et les hommes ont fait subir au
vénérable monument, sans respect pour Charlemagne, qui en avait posé la
première pierre, pour Philippe-Auguste, qui en avait posé la dernière.
Sur la face de cette vieille reine de nos cathédrales, à côté d'un vide
on trouve toujours une cicatrice. _Tempus edax homo edacior_: le temps
est aveugle, l'homme est stupide." Sixty years have passed since this
was written, but the great poet lived to see a restoration which he
probably sighed over as much as over the mutilations of former times.
Viollet-le-Duc did his work better than most restorers; but of the old
church nothing remains but the shell--even the surface of the stone has
been scraped and scrubbed, giving the building as new an appearance as
that of the churches of S. Augustin and La Trinité. Hugo's words in
1832, directed against the architects of Louis XIV. and Louis XV., apply
equally to those of our time: "Si nous avions le loisir d'examiner une à
une avec le lecteur les diverses traces de destruction imprimée à
l'antique église, la part du temps serait la moindre, la pire celles des
hommes, surtout des hommes de l'art." The great destruction occurred
between 1699 and 1753. Louis XIV., the great destroyer of men and of
their works, in order to carry out the "_Voeu de Louis XIII._", made
away with the old carved stalls, the _jubé_, the cloisters, the high
altar with its numerous _châsses_ and reliquaries, its bronze columns
and silver and gold statuettes, the tombs, and the stained glass. In
1771, the statues above the great west doors disappeared when Soufflot
began his evil work of widening them. Another great loss to the church
was the destruction of the statue of S. Christopher, a huge colossal
figure as celebrated in the Middle Ages as the relics of the
Sainte-Chapelle. It stood at the entrance of the nave, and was the work
of Messire Antoine des Essarts in 1443, in gratitude to the saintly
giant for having saved him from the Burgundians. Miracle-working
Virgins, Philippe-Auguste posing as S. Simon Stylites, and two bishops
of Paris, likewise upon columns, were amongst some of the former
treasures. Whether three great figures in wax of Gregory XI., his niece,
and nephew, which tumbled into decay in 1599, are equally to be
regretted, is doubtful; but the description of an equestrian statue
which stood in the nave, the man in armour, and the horse in emblazoned
trappings, sounds fascinating. It was a Louis VI., or a Philippe le
Bel--who knows? Perhaps the latter, erected as a thank offering to Our
Lady for the victory at Mons, for Philippe founded solemn commemorations
of that battle at Notre-Dame, at Chartres, and at S. Denis. But in spite
of this evidence, Père Montfaucon pronounced in favour of Philippe de
Valois, who rode into the church equipped and armed to give thanks for
the victory of Cassel, and fulfil a vow made in front of the enemy. This
same Philippe's effigy also rode a stone horse upon the _façade_ of the
Cathedral of Sens.
Du Breuil cites some quaint verses explaining the dimensions of the
church, which were written upon a picture hanging near the statue of S.
Christopher by the doorway:
Si tu veux sçauoir comme est ample
De Nostre-Dame le grand temple:
Il a dans oeuure, pour le seur,
Dix et sept toises de haulteur,
Sur la largeur de vingt et quatre;
Et soixante cinq sans rabattre,
A de long. Au tours hault montées
Trente quarte sont bien comptées,
Le tout fondé sur pilotis,
Ainsi vray que ie le te dis.[109]
When the revolutionary period began, little remained to be done in the
way of destruction, but that little the votaries of Reason did pretty
well as regards everything pertaining unto royalty; for to be just, we
must remember that anything that could be construed into philosophy or
art was spared. In August, 1793, it was decided that eight days should
be allowed for the destruction of the "_gothiques simulacres_" of the
kings upon the portals. Later on the Saints were ordered to share the
same fate, but Citizen Chaumette, as we have seen, stepped in and saved
the sculpture by assuring his colleagues that the astronomer Dupuis had
discovered his planetary system on one of the portals. Thereupon the
Citoyen Dupuis was put upon the council for the preservation of public
buildings, and in consequence much was saved from complete and hopeless
destruction. We all know how a goddess of the class so dear to the kings
of old, a vulgar Gabrielle or Pompadour in sabots and a Phrygian cap,
was set upon the altar and worshipped in derision, a ceremony followed
by others that "we leave under a veil which appropriately stretches
itself along the pillars of the aisles--not to be lifted aside by the
hand of history."[110] Robespierre and his friends must have been
utterly wanting in a sense of humour, or they never would have
instituted these curious ceremonies. In an old print[111] representing
the great Feast of the Supreme Being upon the Champ de Mars, we see the
President of the Convention in a fine blue coat, and bearing an enormous
bouquet of flowers, discoursing to the multitude; and, after burning the
statue of Atheism, sticking up Wisdom in its place. Young girls in the
inevitable white of church processions, beadles, and singing men, with
all the paraphernalia of the dethroned ecclesiastical pomp, are
depicted: but only one man seems to have seen how ludicrous it all was:
"_Tu commence à nous ennuyer avec ton Être Suprême!_" said he to
Robespierre, somewhat profanely.
[Illustration: HÔTEL-DIEU AND NOTRE-DAME]
The prelates and sovereigns who succeeded to these stormy days
endeavoured to restore Notre-Dame; but the ignorance which prevailed at
the commencement of the present century with regard to Gothic
architecture rather added to the destruction than mended it; and it was
not until the Christian art and Liberal Catholic revivals led by
Montalembert and his friends that a thorough and rational restoration of
the church was commenced by the eminent architects, Viollet-le-Duc and
Lassus.
The central portal is a mass of wonderful sculpture. The lower part of
the stylobate bears lozenge-shapen compartments enclosing roses and
lilies. Above this are the _Virtues and Vices_,[112] the former being
figures of women bearing their emblems; the latter, little scenes
describing each particular vice. It is interesting to see that the
Virtues should be portrayed as women, Guillaume Durand giving the reason
that they are men's nursing mothers; but Eve, having been supposed from
all time to have been man's temptress, how comes it that the Mediæval
sculptors exempted her and all other women from personifying the vice,
for example, of curiosity? Courage our first mother undoubtedly had, and
so this virtue on the front of Notre-Dame is represented by a woman with
a shield bearing a lion. Equally certain is it that Adam was mean and
cowardly, and so we find Cowardice painted as a man running away
terror-stricken from a harmless hare. Amongst the vicious we see Judas
in despair, an iniquitous Nero, an impious Mahomet, and a funny little
Nimroud throwing a javelin at the sun, symbolic of that great warrior's
attempt to build a high tower in order to attack Heaven itself.
Above the Virtues and Vices are the Twelve Apostles, placed over the
Virtue which in their lives they especially displayed. Nothing in these
sculptures was done without a purpose; thus S. Paul stands over Courage,
and S. Peter above Faith; indeed the whole doorway was designed to carry
out a particular idea, and to illustrate the main doctrines of Christ,
whose statue stands upon the central pier, giving the benediction to all
who enter.
[Illustration: ONE OF THE PINNACLES.]
On each side of the doorway are _the Wise and Foolish Virgins_, and in
the tympanum, which is divided into three zones, is _the Resurrection of
the Dead_. Souls are being weighed; and under one scale a mean little
demon may be seen pulling it down with a hook, in case the poor soul's
sins should not be sufficient to weigh it down. It may be noted that the
Mediæval theologians evidently considered the nails which pierced our
Blessed Lord's body of more honour than the tree unto which he was
bound; for here we see an Angel holding the cross with bare hands, while
another envelopes the nails in a napkin. In the _Voussure_ are rows of
personages; the lower ones belonging to the Judgment, the upper ones to
the Resurrection. Then come the Angels, Prophets, and Doctors of the
church (taking precedence at Notre-Dame of the Martyrs, by reason of
Paris being a great seat of learning). Following them are the Martyrs
and Virgins.
Didron[113] gives an account by an Armenian bishop of a visit to Paris
in 1489-96, in which he describes these sculptures exactly as they now
appear, and speaks of the beauty of their colouring and gilding.
The sculptures of the other two doors are of the same character as the
Porte du Jugement, but the subjects are taken severally from the
histories of the Blessed Virgin and of S. Anne. In the Porte de la
Vierge, the _Mother and Child_ hold the central place, and in the
tympanum are the _Assumption_ and the _Glorification of the Virgin_. In
the stylobate are saints, a conspicuous one being _S. Denis carrying his
head_, with Angels upon each side, to prevent anyone damaging his
headless body. In the bas-reliefs, amongst other subjects is an almanac
in stone representing the earth and the sea, the twelve signs of the
Zodiac, and the occupations, mostly agricultural, of each of the months.
Corresponding to these are the idlings of the season. The industrious
man is warming himself by the side of his well-cured hams and sausages;
the idle man is sitting enveloped in fur, enjoying a sleep by the fire.
For April we see a personage with two heads, one asleep and one awake;
and, showing that the climate was much the same in the 13th century as
it is now, we see one side of him clad in the airy costume of our first
parents, while the other is well wrapped up in warm raiment. May only
wears pyjamas, while June prepares for a bath. The signs of the Zodiac
follow the ecclesiastical year, which up to the reign of Charles IX.
commenced at Easter. The custom of carving them on the exterior of
churches is a very ancient practice, as it may be seen on the Catholicon
at Athens, which is as old or older than the time of Justinian. Nearly
all the great churches of France possess them. On S. Denis there are
three: one is mosaic; another, a bas-relief on the exterior; and the
third, an incised stone upon the pavement of one of the apsidal chapels.
The Porte S. Anne is the oldest of the three portals, and the sculptures
being the most ancient of the church, it has been assumed that they were
brought from an older edifice. The central figure is _S. Marcel_, ninth
bishop of Paris, who died in 436. He is here seen standing upon a
strange and venomous beast with a tail ending serpent-wise, issuing from
a winding sheet--the vestment of an unfortunate rich and wicked woman
whom the beast had consumed in punishment for her vices. Marcel, in
spite of this just retribution, seems to have pitied the poor soul, and
went forth to the forest to reprove the dragon; who, listening to the
holy man's words, became repentant and showed his contrition by bending
his head and flopping after the Saint for the space of three miles,
wagging his tail like a dog. But S. Marcel could not forgive him. "Go
forth," said the Saint, "and inhabit the deserts, or plunge thyself into
the sea"; which he seems to have done, for no more was ever heard of the
monster from that day forth.
The tympanum is ornamented with the _History of Joachim and Anna_, the
_Marriage of the Virgin_ and the _Budding of S. Joseph's staff_. Angels
and a kneeling king complete the composition; the latter probably being
Louis VII., the friend of Suger and the father of Philippe-Auguste, as
he is presenting a charter of donations and privileges. On the other
side is a bishop, bearded, mitred, and vested, but unlike the king, the
prelate stands; he is probably the builder, Maurice de Sully. The older
part of this doorway is similar in some respects to the _façade_ of S.
Denis. Abbot Suger, its builder, had only been dead about ten years when
Maurice de Sully reconstructed the cathedral; and we see in the figures
upon the Porte S. Anne the same Romanesque character as at S. Denis.
The beautiful ironwork of the doors of Notre-Dame are worthy their
reputed origin; they are said to have been finished in a single night by
his Satanic Majesty in consequence of the dilatoriness of Biscornette
the blacksmith. The legend has probably grown from the design of a part
of the ironwork, a little man with horns and the tail of a fish, who
sits upon the branch of a tree. It appears that Biscornette was charged
to forge the ironwork of the doors in a given time; but finding himself
behind-hand in his work, he determined to call in the aid of the Devil.
This personage arrived, put on the leathern apron, and set to work so
vigorously that by dawn it was finished. Biscornette thanked his
assistant, who politely, in recognition of the blacksmith's gratitude,
presented him with his horns. Popular opinion always held that
Biscornette could not forge the central door by which the Blessed
Sacrament passed; and that a curse rested upon that of S. Anne, as it
was never opened; but in these latter faithless days it has been found
to do so as easily as the others. The sculptures of the tympanum of the
Porte du Cloître represent the _Legend of S. Theophilus_, the deacon,
who lived in the 3rd century. This Saint was troubled in his mind, and
abjured Christianity through the instrumentality of a Jew; thereupon he
fell into the hands of the Father of Lies, and we see him on his knees
between the hoofs of the demon. But he was reinstated in the good books
of his bishop, in spite of the tempting whisperings of a little demon by
his side. Then the Virgin enters upon the scene, and tears up the
contract signed by S. Theophilus with his blood; and the demon enraged
has the impertinence to seize the raiment of the Virgin, in order to
profane her. But Theophilus is forgiven, and the bishop displays the
contract, which is now hallowed by the episcopal seal, and upon which is
written in Gothic letters: _Carta Theophili_.
At the foot of the Southern _façade_ is the inscription which gives the
name of the architect and the date of the church:
ANNO. DNI. M. CC. LVII. MENSE. FEBRVARIO. IDVS.
SECUNDO. HOC. FUIT INCEPTUM, CRISTI. GENITSIS, HONORE.
KALLENSI. LATHOMO. VIVENTE. JOHANNE. MAGISTRO:
John de Chelles was wise in his generation, for had he not thus taken
care of his own reputation, we should have known nothing about him,
there being no record of any other works by him. Chelles, the place of
his birth, was celebrated for the abbey founded by S. Bathilde; and like
Montereau, Bonneuil, and Lusarches, which gave birth to some of the most
famous architects of the 13th century, it was situated in the diocese of
Paris. The beautiful little Porte Rouge is of the end of the 13th
century. In the tympanum a king and queen are represented kneeling at
each side of our Lord and His Mother, very probably S. Louis, and his
wife, Marguerite de Provence.
Formerly, in front of the grand portals there was a pillory, described
by Père Du Breuil in the 16th century as raised upon a platform. The
culprit knelt upon this with a paper, stating his offence, affixed to
him; and then he stayed _longtemps mocqué et injurié du peuple_. Du
Breuil lamented that this object of the spiritual justice and power was
no longer to be seen at the abbey of S. Germain.
[Illustration: LA PORTE ROUGE.]