Upon approaching Rouen one is sure to be struck by the insolent daring
of its situation. Lying on a sloping plain beside the river, it seems to
disdain the well-nigh impregnable site afforded by the steep cliffs
which rise just to the northeast. The history of the city bears out the
audacity of its location. Through all the centuries its inhabitants
concerned themselves so continuously in conquering other peoples that
little time was left in which to consider the security of their own
homes. The Norman boasted that his strongest defence was a vigorous
offence, and he made good his boast. The town of William the Conqueror
seems always to have been imbued by the spirit which gave him his name,
and the triumphs of the Normans in England, and later in Italy, are but
natural expressions of that virility of race which endures to the
present day. Upon the arms of the city there appears a lamb with one of
its forefeet lifted. Upon this is based the old Norman saying, "L'agneau
de la ville a toujours la patte levee," a homely comment upon the
restless spirit of its citizens and their disposition to be always up
and doing. Perhaps the most characteristic feature of Rouen when viewed
from a distance is the great number of its spires that shoot up above
the house-tops, earning for it the sobriquet of the City of Churches.
This very attractive detail is all the more striking because so rarely
seen in French towns, and is particularly reminiscent to one freshly
arrived from England, a country whose church towers are such a charming
feature of the landscape. Full of significant history is this Rouen--a
history branded for all time by the cowardly fire that ended the
tortures of Joan of Arc, that strangely potent and beautiful spirit.
Fortunately, no trace remains of that dastardly deed. Turning to a less
sinister page in the city's history, we see on one side of the
market-place, a small pagoda-like structure called the old tower of the
Fierte. Here, on Ascension Day in every year, was freed a prisoner
selected by the people, and that this privilege was jealously retained
by them is proved by the existence of a complete list of the prisoners
so freed from 1210 to 1790. Nor do the records stop there: they also
narrate many a fierce encounter resulting from the determination of the
burghers to preserve this right. Most of the quaint features of the town
have been modernised away--so thriving a commerce as here flourishes
could not long tolerate the old narrow crooked streets. Where old
features remain they are so obviously protected as to look almost
theatrical. Of this the two best examples are the clockbearing archway
over the street which bears its name (Grosse Horloge), and the ancient
carved wood housefront transported from its original site, affixed to
another dwelling and dubbed the House of Diane de Poitiers.
Placed just at the point where ships coming in from the sea must
transfer their freight to the smaller vessels that go up the Seine,
Rouen is so intent upon her commerce, that all the principal hotels are
strung along the quays on the riverfront, a very unusual arrangement in
a French town. When we visited the church of St. Ouen to see its
fifteenth century glass, we mentioned the esteem in which the Rouen
glass-makers were held at that time both at home and abroad. From what
we are now about to see we can judge for ourselves how much truer it
must have been in the sixteenth century. The number of splendidly glazed
churches which have been preserved for our inspection almost consoles us
for the long list of others swept away by the ruthless vandalism of the
Revolution, and, to a less extent, by the peaceful hand of time or the
mailed fist of war. The principal ones we should visit (beside St.
Ouen already described) are St. Maclou, St. Vincent, St. Patrice, St.
Godard, St. Romain and the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Perhaps the
least interesting sixteenth century glass is in that gem of Gothic
architecture, St. Maclou, whose florid facade has its bizarre charm
accentuated by the graceful bowing outwards of the west front. The
glass that attracts us most is in the transept rose windows, the lancets
below them and in the very brilliant western rose. All these roses are
dwarfed by the excessive size of the pendent lancets: it is all the more
unfortunate, because considered separately the roses as well as the
lancets are excellent. The earlier windows in the choir chapels have
been described in our former visit (see page 144). In the south transept
a well-composed Crucifixion scene is carried across all the lancets. The
north transept contains a Tree of Jesse on a blue background, and oddly
enough, the tree has white branches. In leaving St. Maclou, notice the
dainty spiral staircase that winds up at the south side of the door; it
seems almost too delicate to be made of stone.
St. Vincent has its entire lower part lighted by large embrasures
completely glazed with glass of this period, producing a singularly
brilliant and luminous effect all about us. The columns which separate
the ambulatory from the choir are so slender that they do not materially
interfere with our view, and thus the whole interior is exposed at once,
an enclosure of glorious colour. In fact, it is not too much to say of
this church and, to a less extent, of the two which we shall next visit,
that they are bowers of iridescent glowing light. There are two Trees of
Jesse at St. Vincent, one over the north portal, and another at the east
end of the south aisle, but inspection of the latter reveals that the
genealogical tree rises not from Jesse but from St. Anne! In the true
Jesse tree over the northern door the branches are white, a peculiarity
just noticed at St. Maclou.
St. Patrice differs from St. Vincent in that, instead of seeming to
stand in the midst of a circle of luminous colour, our attention is
rather directed towards the splendid bow-window at the east with its
Crucifixion scene, to which all the rest of the glass seems decorously
subordinated. Although glazed a little later than St. Vincent, it yields
the same splendidly luminous effect, the natural result of a series of
panels all of this period. The chief boast of this church is the Triumph
of the Law of Grace by Jean Cousin in the Lady Chapel. Nor is his the
only great name that we shall find frequently upon the glass of Rouen.
One window much admired for its felicitous combination of theoretically
uncongenial colours is that which sets forth the legend of St. Hubert.
Its greens, reds, yellows and blues must be seen before one can believe
that it is possible to agreeably unite them.
Our next church is St. Godard, whose ancient glories have been so
restored and replaced by modern trash that we find it hard to believe
that, when it possessed its original glass, no church in all Normandy
could vie with it. To-day it is far less attractive than St. Vincent and
St. Patrice, the latter of which, by the way, now contains several of
the original windows of St. Godard. The second in the chapel named
after St. Romain, depicting scenes from his life, is one of the few in
the church which is not either restored or renewed. It is so good in
every way that one is surprised the other windows do not seem more out
of place by contrast. We sigh for the days when there was justified the
phrase used by the Norman peasant in describing good wine, "As red as
the windows of St. Godard."
Near the railway station is St. Romain, which, though less ancient than
those which we have just visited, is the fortunate possessor of glass
brought from several of the churches swept away by the Revolution.
Particularly notice the spirited scene of St. Romain slaying the
Gargouille, the fabled dragon of early Rouen. On the left, in what seems
to be a transept, is a pretty window at the bottom of which appear such
a sensibly modest row of small kneeling donors that we could wish that
all sixteenth century glaziers might have seen them, and had been
thereby restrained from their customary exaggeration in this particular.
Unfortunately, the ancient panels were not large enough to fill the
embrasures here provided, so this extra space was filled by wide borders
of light modern glass. The result is that these borders admit such a
flood of light as to drown the beauties of the older panels.
Now we have arrived at the Cathedral. Before we enter, let us feast our
eyes upon the delicate Gothic detail which softens and decorates its
sturdy west front. At the southwest corner rises the Tour du Beurre,
built (as was the same named tower at Bourges) from the moneys received
out of the sale of indulgences to eat butter during Lent. The modern
iron spire is so well designed as to seem hardly out of place among its
older sisters. We should enter by the north portal. Just outside it is
an enclosure formerly devoted to exhibiting the wares of booksellers,
which is shut off from the street by a light Gothic screen. Viewed
through it the wonderful carvings on the north portal become doubly
effective. The interior of the cathedral is as full of interest as the
best style of Gothic can make it. On the right is a very attractive
zigzag stairway which leads up to the library. In the Lady Chapel are
two especially fine tombs, one of the Duc de Breze, husband of the
famous Diane de Poitiers, and the other of Louis XII's great Minister,
Cardinal d'Amboise. The fourteenth century glass of this chapel has
already been described (see page 144). The 130 windows which light the
cathedral's interior are mostly glazed in colour, but they are the
product of various centuries and are of varying excellence. We find here
but eight thirteenth century medallion windows, but they are delightful.
Two of them are in the nave, the third and fourth on the left. The
others are in the choir ambulatory and are so placed as to be singularly
effective. If one stands in either the north or the south aisle of the
nave and looks directly east, the only glass which meets his eye is that
of windows brilliant with these early medallions, far off at the other
end of the great cathedral. Just at this time the western rose window
chiefly concerns us because it is of the sixteenth century. Its
concentric circles of white angels, red seraphim, green palm branches,
etc., provide a strong contrast between the reds and yellows (filling
the centre third of it) and the dark greens and dark blues of the outer
two-thirds. In the southeasterly corner of the south transept, the
window on the east, as well as that on the south, are worthy of our
attention. The latter is by Jean Cousin, and its six panels show six
virtues, each entitled in Latin. Those of us who are subject to fits of
depression should especially observe "Fortitudo," for there the bishop
has slain the Blue Devil, and is pursuing its lilac and its green
brothers!
Although St. Ouen has already been visited for its magnificently
complete fourteenth century glazing (see page 144), the rose windows of
its transepts are such noteworthy examples of the Renaissance that we
must not omit a comment upon them at this point. That in the north
transept has its diverging figures arranged like herrings in a barrel,
but while those at the sides and around the lower part are light in
tone, those in the upper part are red seraphim and blue cherubim: this
is very unusual. The south rose is peopled by a multitude of small
personages, each occupying a pane by itself. Careful examination reveals
that we have here a Tree of Jesse. He is in the middle, but it is only
with some difficulty that we distinguish the branches of the vine
radiating from him.
Before leaving Rouen the traveller should see the interesting carvings
on the House of Bourgetheroulde, depicting the Field of the Cloth of
Gold, nor will he fail to admire the magnificent apartments which Norman
love of equity constructed for it in the Palais de Justice.
Besides the towns already visited, there are three others near Rouen
which contain interesting glass, Grand-Andely, Elbeuf and Pont de
l'Arche, distant, respectively, 33, 20 and 18 kilometres from Rouen.
They are worth a visit if one can spare the time, but we risk an
anti-climax in recommending our traveller to see them after the glories
of the Norman capital. The nearness of these towns and also of
Pont-Audemer (48 kilometres), Caudebec (35 kilometres), and Conches (51
kilometres), suggests a way in which one can change the whole itinerary
just outlined. This can be done by using Rouen as a centre from which to
run out and back, and thus visit all this group of six without cutting
oneself off from one's base. To one at all encumbered with luggage, this
suggestion will probably appeal.