Even the most enthusiastic admirer of Sens could not bring himself to
describe that city, or the surrounding country, as picturesque. The
latter is monotonously flat, relieved only by occasional chalk ridges.
The town straggles away from the river Yonne with little to remind us of
its former glories except the cathedral and its immediate neighbourhood.
As we cross the bridge near the railway station we will remark a very
incongruous service which practical science has exacted from a relic of
the past. Rising from the parapet at the highest point of the bridge is
a crucifix up the back of which runs a wire ending over the head of
Christ in an incandescent electric light! When we passed through Sens on
our earlier trip (see page 77) we took occasion to relate the fateful
coincidence which took place in the twelfth century when representatives
from all parts of Christian Europe came there to visit the exiled Pope
just in time to see William of Sens completing, in the cathedral, the
first great step in Gothic. This coincidence not only caused the rapid
spread of the new style of architecture to every part of the Christian
world represented by these visiting delegates, but also explains why
Thomas a Becket, then sojourning in Sens, selected this architect to
rebuild Canterbury Cathedral in far-off England. Now we come to a
sixteenth century tale which serves to show that the people of the
Middle Ages were likewise keenly interested in art and that an artist's
fame travelled perhaps even more widely, all things considered, than it
does to-day. The beautifully light and graceful transepts at Sens were
built by Martin Cambiche, who was also the architect of Beauvais
Cathedral and likewise drew the plans for the west front of St. Pierre
at Troyes.
First let us look at the cathedral's exterior. When viewing the west
front we are struck by the appearance of unusually great breadth, due
partly to the construction of the cathedral itself and partly to the
placing of the Officialite (a thirteenth century building) which has its
greatest length extending to the south level with the cathedral's west
front. Note the device of the Officialite's architect to increase the
seeming length of his front by gradually diminishing the distances
between his buttresses. Within this fine hall St. Louis (Louis IX) was
betrothed. This ponderous appearance of breadth resulting from the
juxtaposition of these two buildings might have produced too massive an
effect if it were not for the almost coquettish fashion in which the
tower rises up at the cathedral's southwest corner, giving a decided
uplift and point to the entire facade. Although the cathedral has far
fewer windows than we shall see at Troyes (because its triforium is not
pierced), the lighting here is almost garish, owing to the fact that the
clerestory embrasures are glazed only in grisaille. In the charming
transepts, however, we obtain what is perhaps the ideal lighting sought
for by the glass artist of the sixteenth century. The windows are very
numerous and of such general excellence as to render these the best
glazed transepts in France. They have not only unusually ample window
space in their sides, but have also large low-reaching panels below the
big rose windows which, as usual, decorate the upper portion of the end
walls. So generous was this architect in the number and size of wall
apertures as to prove how greatly he esteemed the assistance of the
glazier. The records show that those in charge of the building made most
intelligent use of the opportunity provided by the unusual amount of
window space. They sent far and wide for the best artists. We read
that in 1500 they summoned from Troyes three master glass painters,
Lyenin-Varin, Jean Verrat and Balthazar Godon, and turned a large part
of the work over to them. These men finished their task in three years,
and the result amply justifies their selection. The rose windows are
especially pleasing, that to the south showing the Last Judgment with
many repetitions of the Angel Gabriel, and that to the north a most
charming throng of angels playing upon various musical instruments,
the interweaving of the glass tones being as harmonious as befits this
heavenly choir. The best known window in this part of the church is a
very brilliant Tree of Jesse with a red background bearing on one of its
branches the celebrated Grey Jackass (a familiar figure in the old
"Fete des Fous"): it is at the north end of the east wall of the south
transept. Of the beauty of these transepts, as well as of the way in
which their architecture and glass prove mutually helpful, too much
cannot be said. The most famous windows in the church are two by Jean
Cousin, who, although born in this city in 1501, is only represented in
his home cathedral by these examples. His glorious St. Eutropius is in
the third chapel on the right of the nave, but even finer still is the
Tiburtine Sibyl in the Notre Dame de Lorette chapel on the right side of
the choir ambulatory. It is only fair to this second window to say that
it was somewhat damaged during the siege of 1814. After inspecting these
two products of his genius, it is easy to understand why Jean Cousin
enjoyed so wide a fame. We have already referred to the splendid relics
of the twelfth century which are found on the other side of the choir
ambulatory. The result of this very convenient opportunity to compare
the best work of the twelfth and the sixteenth centuries is that we are
sure to be startled by the difference not only in results, but also in
methods.
[Illustration: SOUTH TRANSEPT, SENS (16TH CENTURY).
_The Rose is now greatly elaborated, its lines more flowing, and
its position in the wall beautified by the graceful adjustment
of the lancets below._]