Those proceeding upon this pilgrimage by automobile or bicycle, will
find a treat awaiting them between Soissons and Laon. The road lies
through Coucy-le-Chateau, the impressive and well-preserved ruin of a
massive mediaeval fortress. The huge round towers at its corners,
connected by walls thirty-five feet thick, frown down from their rocky
perch upon a pleasant valley below. Snuggled up against these protecting
walls is the little town, which we enter by a narrow gateway crowded in
between two great solemn towers. On we go through the narrow old streets
and out another well-defended portal and off on our journey. When first
we espy Laon we are far off on the rolling plain which surrounds its
base. It looms high in the air, the four towers of its cathedral peering
out above the encircling houses, all seeming to keep watch over the
tiring zigzags by means of which the road lazily climbs the height. A
city built upon a hill always possesses a fascination, more especially
when it has a history as long and interesting as this one. The lofty
situation makes the town seem to hold itself aloof and lends it a
certain proud mystery which impels us to seek to know more of it--to
penetrate its reserve. Laon is even more picturesque and striking than
most French hill towns, because the height upon which it stands rises
abruptly from a great plain. None of the height is lost and thus all the
beauty is saved. After observing how remote it is upon its long, narrow
hilltop, one can well understand why the later Carlovingian kings
selected this stronghold for their capital. In those early times there
was no artillery to endanger their loftily secure repose. The cathedral,
which is a really fine one, presents us with some of those familiarly
quaint touches that prove Gothic architecture to have been so close to
the heart of its times. Perched aloft among the open spaces that
interpenetrate its light towers, are life-size statues of oxen, in
kindly memory of the beasts of burden that hauled up from the plain
below the great stones used in the building. Within the cathedral,
although there is but little glass, it is all of this period and,
besides, is so grouped as to do itself the greatest credit possible. All
we shall find is a rose filled with medallions in the north transept and
another and far finer one in the square eastern end, below which are
ranged three gorgeous lancets of imposing dimensions. The northern rose
contains scenes representing the sciences as understood and practised in
the thirteenth century. One's memory of this rose is blue with hints of
green, while of the eastern series it is reddish purple. The centre
of the splendid eastern rose is occupied by a figure of the Virgin Mary
between John the Baptist and Isaiah, and around this group are two
circles of medallions, the inner one of twelve containing the Apostles,
and the outer, of twenty-four, the Elders of the Apocalypse. This
concentration of all the old glass in these two quarters has the
satisfactory result that anyone standing at the crossing and looking
either into the north transept or into the choir, sees nothing but the
splendid richness of mosaic medallions, and is not distracted by the
sight of any other style of glazing. The placing of this fine glass more
than compensates for its limited amount. After this sweeping praise, we
may indulge ourselves in one mild criticism: the glass in the east end
would seem richer still if it were not so much illuminated from within
by the white glazed windows along the sides of the choir. If this were
toned down, even by modern glass, it would cause a decided improvement.
At St. Quentin, we are more than reconciled to the presence of modern
glass in the chapels around the choir, because it so modifies the light
as to permit the thirteenth century panels in the choir clerestory to
sparkle and gleam as they should. The north rose at Laon is of rare
construction; the stone framework is so cumbersome, and the amount of
glazed surface so modest, as to almost destroy the appearance of a
rosace, and to substitute therefor that of a series of holes let
into a wall. Also notice that the east rose is glazed flush with the
stonework, thus presenting a level surface on the inside, while just
below, in marked contrast, the three lancets are deeply recessed within.
This method of constructing a rose is unusual; another example is the
west rose at Mantes. The square eastern end, instead of the usual
rounded apse, is believed to be one of the many results seen throughout
this diocese of the influence exerted by a twelfth century English
bishop. Whatever the reason for this square apse, it admirably suits the
rest of the edifice.
[Illustration: 13TH CENTURY ROSE AND LANCETS, LAON.
_Medallions are admirably suited to rounded apertures in Rose,
and assist in producing effect of huge blossom; later the lines
radiated more from the centre and tended toward a wheel
effect._]
Before leaving this delightful hilltop, we must not fail to take a
stroll around the boulevards which have been constructed upon the
overturned walls. The views from this promenade out over the great
plain below linger long in one's memory.