Vincennes lies so close to Paris that it can be reached by an electric
car which starts from the Louvre. Its sternly forbidding fortress of the
most approved feudal type, and the delightful park, have been the scene
of many an interesting episode in French history. In the old forest
which was the predecessor of the modern park, good Louis IX was wont to
seat himself beneath an oak and measure out to all comers that
even-handed justice which supplied one of the reasons for his
canonisation. Often, on our travels, we have noted how enthusiastically
he espoused the cause of stained glass, and, therefore, we of the
Brotherhood of Glass Lovers should feel a sympathetic glow of interest
whenever we happen upon any scene hallowed by his personality. As for
the castle, perhaps the best proof of its great strength is its sinister
record of having served during many reigns as a dungeon for prisoners of
State. Many are the great names on its roster of prisoners, nor shall we
wonder it was chosen for that purpose after climbing to the top of its
donjon tower and remarking the vast thickness of its walls surrounded by
the deep, yawning moat that isolates it from the smiling countryside.
It is with a feeling of relief that we turn from the contemplation of
such a subject to the delight which awaits us in the graceful Gothic
chapel with its fine vaultings, set off by the superb set of windows
from the hand of that great master, Jean Cousin. Poor windows, they have
suffered many vicissitudes since their completion in 1558; it was not
enough that they should be subjected to the ordinary hazards of
time--they were actually taken out of their settings and moved away!
After an interval they turned up in 1816 in the collection of Lenoir.
Later they were restored to their original embrasures, but some of the
heads and limbs having been lost, a bungling repairer replaced them by
fragments from other panels. Fortunately for us, the last restoration in
1878 has corrected this and they are now in condition to show us what
their artist intended to set forth. Notwithstanding the glaring light
from the uncoloured windows to the west, these stained glass pictures
are so delightful in tone and drawing as to give us a very high opinion
of Jean Cousin. It was but natural that he should, in accordance with
the custom of his time, seize this opportunity to recommend himself to
royal favour, and, therefore, we must not criticise him for putting
Henry II attired as a Knight of St. Michael in one of the eastern
windows. We may, however, very properly object to the presence of the
royal mistress, Diane de Poitiers, among the Holy Martyrs! Henry II
must have lacked a keen sense of humour, or the artist might have run
some risks in so placing the fair Diane. The subjects of these windows
are taken from the stories of the Apocalypse and allow the artist wide
scope for his fancy, of which he avails himself to the fullest extent.
He also indulges in several daring combinations of colour, as for
example, in depicting the flames in the panel to the right of the
central one, where he used lilac, yellow, brown and red, and each colour
in several shades. Just below, in his shipwreck picture, he again
represents the flames in the same bold way. Then, too, there is a
distinctly bluish tone to his enframing stone canopies; all this sounds
very raw and harsh, but the general effect is nevertheless excellent.
This was the official chapel of the Order of the Saint Esprit, so we are
not surprised to find upon some of the windows knights of that order in
full regalia. Vincennes is perhaps the best place to study Jean Cousin;
certainly far better than his birthplace, Sens, which we next visit.
There the cathedral contains but two examples of his skill, but they are
veritable masterpieces.