In addition to the glass seen during these three trips, there are three
isolated churches whose windows are so interesting as well as important
that one should not be contented to conclude his sixteenth century
studies without visiting them. Not only is each one of them distant from
other contemporary glass, but it would seem as though the Imp of the
Perverse had taken a hand in placing them as far away from each other as
possible. Bourg is down south in Savoy; Auch is near Toulouse in the
southwest; and Champigny-sur-Veude is off in the western part of
Touraine, near the lower reaches of the river Loire. Each of these three
not only was completely glazed during this epoch, but has also retained
its glass in good condition. In each case the special interest which
causes our visit is quite peculiar and very different from that which
attracts us to the others. When we concluded our trips of the fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries we were confronted with the advisability of a
separate journey to Quimper, and in like manner we should now decide to
visit Bourg, Auch and Champigny-sur-Veude. It must be confessed that it
is inconvenient, but it will prove well worth while.
First in importance is the church of Brou at Bourg. Although Savoy now
forms part of France, we shall, upon this excursion, find proof that it
was not always French, and shall furthermore encounter much interesting
history wrapped up in the tale of the building and glazing of the church
of Brou. Up in the north, at St. Quentin, we found the high-water mark
(on French soil) of that splendid empire which the Spaniard, Charles V,
agglomerated under his banner and which he resigned to his son, Philip
II, the victor of the Battle of St. Quentin. So vast and important was
his empire that he lacked only France to have all the continent of
Europe beneath his sway. It was the aunt of this Emperor Charles V,
Marguerite d'Autriche, who built the exquisite church of Brou in memory
of her husband, Philibert le Beau, Duke of Savoy, killed in a hunting
accident. After this glance at history, it is not difficult to
understand why Marguerite sent to Flanders for her architect and for her
glass designers, for as Flanders was part of her nephew's empire, none
was more fully advised than she of the high reputation then enjoyed by
the artists of the Low Countries. Apropos of the way in which her
husband Philibert died, it is related that when his father had been at
the point of death from a similar hunting accident, Philibert's mother,
Marguerite de Bourbon, had vowed to erect a chapel to St. Hubert,
patron saint of huntsmen, if he recovered. Her failure to comply with
this vow was by many firmly believed to be the reason why her son
Philibert was killed upon the hunting field, and that his untimely end
was a solemn warning that a vow to St. Hubert must be strictly kept. In
any event, St. Hubert must have been fully satisfied with the manner in
which the oath was finally carried out, for the chapel so built has
remained to amaze and delight many generations. The wonderful marble
tombs, the graceful rood screen, the splendid glass, all go to prove
that there was here lavished everything that wealth, power and
intelligence could command.
It is bewildering to decide with which of the eighteen windows we shall
begin our inspection. Because of our interest in the foundress and her
husband, let us commence with that in the choir, which is at the left
of the most easterly window. Upon this one and its neighbour to the left
we shall see spread out much concerning the life, family and habits of
Philibert. The first window shows the Duke himself attended by his
patron saint, St. Philibert, while in the background there looms up his
favourite ducal palace of Pont d'Ain, where he lived and died. As
indicating the importance of his duchy there are arranged above him
thirteen shields displaying the arms of provinces at one time part
of Savoy. The next window to the left bears a splendid array of
thirty-five shields whose heraldry serves to complete our information
about Duke Philibert by showing the individuals composing his family
tree. Those on the right are of the paternal line of Savoy, and on the
left we follow his mother's line (the House of Bourbon) as far up as
Louis IX, whose arms appear at the very top of the embrasure. It is most
fitting that the arms of our old friend, the royal patron of stained
glass, should preside over the most brilliant window in this famously
glazed sanctuary. It is to be noticed that this church is very rich in
heraldic blazons; in fact, upon five of its windows we find seventy-one
shields. The Chapelle des Sept Joies contains a gorgeous work, the
Crowning of the Virgin, in which every effort of the glassmaker's
skill seems to have been exerted. Above the principal subject runs a
panel-like frieze showing in allegory the Triumph of Christ. This frieze
is done in grey and yellow stain. The whole window would leave nothing
to be desired in either technique or colour if it were not made the
victim of an exaggerated outbreak of the curse of donors' figures. The
foundress and her husband are not only allowed to intrude upon the
drawing of the general subject, but each of them is actually larger than
the figure of the Virgin. The records show that this church (begun in
1511) had all its glass installed at the time of its completion in 1536,
thus showing that the windows were made during the most vigorous part
of the century, a fact thoroughly borne out by internal evidence. We may
consider ourselves fortunate that the use of this glorious building for
a store-house during the Revolution damaged the glass so little. In
this connection it is surprising to read that its beauty was so much
appreciated that the people voted to preserve it as a public monument,
thus staying the hand of the ever-ready vandalism which then raged
through so many French churches.
A sketch of Bourg would not be complete without a reference to the noble
poem of Matthew Arnold. The following lines are particularly appropriate
to the moving cause for our visit to this lovely shrine:
So sleep, forever sleep, O marble Pair!
Or, if ye wake, let it be then, when fair
On the carved western front a flood of light
Streams from the setting sun, and colours bright
Prophets, transfigured Saints, and Martyrs brave,
In the vast western window of the nave;
And on the pavement round the tomb there glints
A chequer-work of glowing sapphire-tints,
And amethyst, and ruby--then unclose
Your eyelids on the stone where ye repose,
And looking down on the warm rosy tints,
Which chequer, at your feet, the illumined flints,
Say: "What is this? We are in bliss--forgiven--
Behold the pavement of the courts of Heaven!"