At one time or another during our glass pilgrimages we have happened
upon examples of other mediaeval arts and crafts which all combine to
make France so absorbingly interesting. It has been reserved for our
visit to Chantilly to show us one of the formal gardens of Old France in
which nature has been made to yield to the whim and fancy of the
landscape artist. Most travellers have seen the famous gardens of
Versailles and have heard that they were designed and arranged by Le
Notre, but those at Chantilly were designed by this same master before
he was called by the King to do his greatest work at Versailles. There
are many who prefer his earlier effort, and we must be grateful to our
glass for having brought us to this delightful spot. The forest of
Chantilly, which covers over six thousand acres, forms an excellent foil
for the formal stateliness of the gardens. One is not allowed to visit
the chateau except on Thursdays and Sundays and not then if it happens
to be a day when there is racing at the Chantilly track. This regulation
is to prevent race crowds from overrunning the chateau and grounds. The
beautiful building with its priceless collections was the private
property of the Duc d'Aumale and was by him presented to the Institut de
France. In a long low gallery especially constructed for them, and which
receives all its light through them, is a much travelled and widely
discussed series of forty-four panels narrating episodes from the
adventures of Cupid and Psyche. They are of the yellow stain and grey
type which we have noticed at Troyes and Chalons, but here the
workmanship is far superior. Note that the grey is in places almost
brown, and that the yellow is used but sparingly. The high state of
perfection to which the design and drawing are carried, combined with
the fact that their subjects are non-religious, make them delightfully
unique. It is easy to observe the strong influence of Italian art, not
only in their general style but also in the very liberal borrowing of
designs from well-known Italian paintings. Until recently they were
attributed to that versatile master of many arts, Bernard Palissy, but
that has been definitely disproved. They are now generally acknowledged
to be the work of Cocxyen, a Flemish student of Van Orley (who made the
windows of Ste. Gudule in Brussels), and the Italian influence is
explained by the fact that he studied in Rome. These panels are dated
1542-4 and were originally made for the windows of the Salle des
Gardes at the Chateau of Ecouen upon the order of Constable Anne de
Montmorency. The Revolution dislodged them and they found their way into
a museum arranged by Lenoir. This collection was dispersed in 1818. It
is narrated that the Prince de Conde, when visiting the museum, admired
this set of glass. Hearing someone remark that they had formerly adorned
a castle belonging to his family (meaning Ecouen), he had them bundled
up and packed off to his chateau at Chantilly, where they have since
remained. This picturesque tale serves to show that stained glass panels
were not then regarded as necessarily stationary. We have seen several
other instances of this lack of respect for their stout iron bars. They
were beautiful and valuable, and therefore, when the occasion arose,
they were removed! Excellent as is the work upon these panels and
graceful as are the figures, we cannot but notice that our art is taking
rapid strides towards its decadence. They are no longer windows where
the full value of colour and leading are appreciated and used. In this
set they are careful colourless paintings on glass in which the artistic
value of the leads is so disregarded that they no longer provide or even
assist the drawing--they only mar it as they run across the panes
wherever their supporting strength is necessary. We have arrived at a
time when the windows are becoming painted pictures done in the manner
of paintings on canvas. The artist no longer remembers that stained
glass is a separate art and that he has certain advantages in technique
over the oil painter, just as the latter has over him.
The small ante-chapel has on each side a tall window. In the middle of
each is set a large panel of sixteenth century glass, the one on the
right showing five Montmorency daughters kneeling in a row, attended by
Ste. Agathe, and the one on the left their five brothers, also kneeling,
and similarly attended by St. John. The remainder of the embrasure is,
in each case, filled with modern glass done in the Renaissance manner
and intended to harmonise with the older panel in its midst. The artist
devoted more care to the faces of the boys than to those of their
sisters, for although the latter are monotonously alike in drawing and
posture, the former differ markedly. The face of the smallest boy is
most diverting. His hands are clasped in prayer, but unlike his more
devout brothers and sisters, his eyes are not turned toward the altar,
but he is gazing out into the chapel with childish curiosity. In these
two panels the leads are not so cumbrously intrusive, but there is a
lesson which every glass artist should learn from an inspection of the
carefully painted windows at Ecouen, Montmorency and Chantilly. He
cannot fail to notice how the misuse of the leads has been accentuated
by the careful painting, and he should carry away with him a firm
conviction that the more delicate the design the less it can afford to
quarrel with the leading.