CATHEDRAL OF NOTRE-DAME.

This church, the first ever built in Paris, was begun about the year

375, under the reign of the emperor Valentinian I. It was then called

_St. Etienne_ or _St. Stephen's_, and there was as yet no other

within the walls of this city in 1522, when Childebert, son of

Clovis, repaired and enlarged it, adding to it a new basilic, which

was dedicated to _Notre Dame_ or Our Lady.

More anciently, under Tiberius, there had been, on the same spot, an

altar in the open air, dedicated to Jupiter and other pagan gods,

part of which is still in being at the MUSEUM OF FRENCH MONUMENTS, in

the _Rue des Petits Augustins_.

These two churches existed till about the year 1160, under the reign

of Lewis the Young, when the construction of the present cathedral

was begun partly on their foundations. It was not finished till 1185,

during the reign of Philip Augustus.

This Gothic Church is one of the handsomest and most spacious in

France. It has a majestic and venerable appearance, and is supported

by one hundred and twenty clustered columns. Its length is three

hundred and ninety feet by one hundred and forty-four in breadth, and

one hundred and two in height.

We must not expect to find standing here the twenty-six kings,

benefactors of this church, from Childeric I to Philip Augustus,

fourteen feet high, who figured on the same line, above the three

doors of the principal façade. They have all fallen under the blows

of the iconoclasts, and are now piled up behind the church. There lie

round-bellied Charlemagne, with his pipe in his mouth, and Pepin the

Short, with his sword in his hand, and a lion, the emblem of courage,

under his feet. The latter, like Tydeus, mentioned in the Iliad,

though small in stature, was stout in heart, as appears from the

following anecdote related of him by the monk of St. Gal.

In former times, as is well known, kings took a delight in setting

wild beasts and ferocious animals to fight against each other. At one

of thege fights, between a lion and a bull, in the abbey of

Ferrières, Pepin the Short, who knew that some noblemen were daily

exercising their pleasantry on his small stature, addressed to them

this question: "Which of you feels himself bold enough to kill or

separate those terrible animals?" Seeing that not one of them stepped

forward, and that the proposal alone made them shudder: "Well," added

he, "'tis I then who will perform the feat." He accordingly descended

from his place, drew his sword, killed the lion, at another stroke

cut off the head of the bull, and then looking fiercely at the

railers: "Know," said he to them, "that stature adds nothing to

courage, and that I shall find means to bring to the ground the proud

persons who shall dare to despise me, as little David laid low the

great giant Goliah." Hence the attribute given to the statue of king

Pepin, which not long since adorned the façade of _Notre-Dame_.

The groups of angels, saints, and patriarchs, which, no doubt, owe

their present existence only to their great number, still present to

the eye of the observer that burlesque mixture of the profane and

religious, so common in the symbolical representations of the twelfth

century. These figures adorn the triple row of indented borders of

the arches of the three doors.

Two enormous square towers, each two hundred and two feet in height,

and terminated by a platform, decorate each end of the cathedral. The

ascent to them is by a winding staircase of three hundred and

eighty-nine steps, and their communication is by a gallery which

has no support but Gothic pillars of a lightness that excites

admiration.

Independently of the six bells, which have disappeared with the

little belfry that contained them, in the two towers were ten, one of

which weighed forty-four thousand pounds.

At the foot of the north tower is the rural calendar or zodiac, which

has been described by M. Le Gentil, member of the Academy of

Sciences. The Goths had borrowed from the Indians this custom of thus

representing rustic labours at the entrance of their temples.

Another Gothic bas-relief, which is seen on the left, in entering by

the great door, undoubtedly represents that condemned soul who,

tradition says, rose from his bier, during divine service, in order

to pronounce his own damnation.

None of the forty-five chapels have preserved the smallest vestige of

their ornaments. Those which escaped the destructive rage of the

modern Vandals, have been transported to the MUSEUM OF FRENCH

MONUMENTS. The most remarkable are the statue of Pierre de Gondi,

archbishop of Paris, the mausoleum of the Conte d'Harcourt, designed

by his widow, the modern Artemisia, and executed by Pigalle, together

with the group representing the vow of St. Lewis, by Costou the

elder. Six angels in bronze, which were seen at the further end of

the choir, have also been removed thither.

The stalls present, in square and oval compartments, bas-reliefs very

delicately sculptured, representing subjects taken from the life of

the Holy Virgin and from the New Testament. Of the two episcopal

pulpits, which are at the further end, the one, that of the

archbishop, represents the martyrdom of St. Denis; the other,

opposite, the cure of king Childebert, by the intercession of St.

Germain.

Some old tapestry, hung scantily round the choir, makes one regret

the handsome iron railing, so richly wrought, by which it was

inclosed, and some valuable pictures, which now figure in the grand

Gallery of the CENTRAL MUSEUM OF THE ARTS.

The nave, quite as naked as the choir and the sanctuary, had been

enriched, as far as the space would admit, with pictures, twelve feet

high, given for a long time, on every first of May, by the

Goldsmiths' company and the fraternity of St. Anne and St. Marcel.

On the last pillar of the nave, on the right, was the equestrian

statue of Philip of Valois. That king was here represented on

horseback, with his vizor down, sword in hand, and armed cap-à-pié,

in the very manner in which he rode into the cathedral of

_Notre-Dame_, in 1328, after the battle of Cassel. At the foot of

the altar he left his horse, together with his armour, which he had

worn in the battle, as an offering to the Holy Virgin, after having

returned thanks to God and to her, say historians, for the victory

he had obtained through her intercession.

Above the lateral alleys, as well of the choir as of the nave, are

large galleries, separated by little pillars of a single piece, and

bordered by iron balustrades. Here spectators place themselves to see

grand ceremonies. From their balconies were formerly suspended the

colours taken from the enemy: these are now displayed in the _Temple

of Mars_ at the HÔTEL DES INVALIDES.

The organ, which appears to have suffered no injury, is reckoned one

of the loudest and most complete in France. It is related that

Daquin, an incomparable organist, who died in 1781, once imitated the

nightingale on it so perfectly, that the beadle was sent on the roof

of the church, to endeavour to discover the musical bird.

Some of the stained glass is beautiful. Two roses, restored to their

original state, the one on the side of the archipiscopal palace in

1726, and the other above the organ, in 1780, prove by their lustre,

that the moderns are not so inferior to the ancients, in the art of

painting on glass, as is commonly imagined.

Should your curiosity lead you to contemplate the house of Fulbert,

the canon, the supposed uncle to the tender Héloïse, where that

celebrated woman passed her youthful days, you must enter, by the

cloister of _Notre-Dame_, into the street that leads to the _Pont

Rouge_, since removed. It is the last house on the right under the

arcade, and is easily distinguished by two medallions in stone,

preserved on the façade, though it has been several times rebuilt

during the space of six hundred years. All the authors who have

written on the antiquities of Paris, speak of these medallions as

being real portraits of Abélard and Héloïse. It is presumable that

they were so originally; but, without being a connoisseur, any one

may discover that the dresses of these figures are far more modern

than those peculiar to the twelfth century; whence it may be

concluded that the original portraits having been destroyed by time,

or by the alterations which the house has undergone, these busts have

been executed by some more modern sculptor of no great talents.

Leaving the cathedral, by the _Rue Notre-Dame_, and turning to the

left, on reaching the _Marché Palu_, we come to the

Paris as It Was and as It Is A Sketch Of The French Capital, Illustrative Of The Effects Of The Revolution · 第 324 / 557 题