FRENCH GOTHIC CATHEDRALS.
CONTENTS.
Paris—Chartres—Rheims—Amiens—Other Cathedrals—Later Style—St. Ouen’s,
Rouen.
THE great difficulty in attempting to describe the architecture of
France during the glorious period of the 13th century is really the
_embarras de richesse_. There are even now some thirty or forty
cathedrals of the first class in France, all owing their magnificence to
this great age. Some of these, it is true, were commenced even early in
the 12th, and many were not completed till after the 14th century; but
all their principal features, as well as all their more important
beauties, belong to the 13th century, which, as a building epoch, is
perhaps the most brilliant in the whole history of architecture. Not
even the great Pharaonic era in Egypt, the age of Pericles in Greece,
nor the great period of the Roman Empire, will bear comparison with the
13th century in Europe, whether we look to the extent of the buildings
executed, their wonderful variety and constructive elegance, the daring
imagination that conceived them, or the power of poetry and of lofty
religious feelings that is expressed in every feature and in every part
of them.
During the previous age almost all the greater ecclesiastical buildings
were abbeys, or belonged exclusively to monastic establishments—were in
fact the sole property, and built only for the use, of the clergy,
though the laity, it is true, were admitted to them, but only on
sufferance. They had no right to be there, and took no part in the
ceremonies performed. In the 13th century, however, almost all the great
buildings were cathedrals, in the erection of which the laity bore the
greater part of the expense, and shared, in at least an equal degree, in
their property and purposes. In a subsequent age the parochial system
went far to supersede even the cathedral, the people’s church taking
almost entirely the place of the priest’s church, a step which was
subsequently carried to its utmost length by the Reformation. Our
present subject requires us to fix our attention on that stage of this
great movement which gave rise to the building of the principal
cathedrals throughout Europe from the 12th to the 15th century.
The transition from the Romanesque to the true pointed Gothic style in
the centre of France took place with the revival of the national power
under the guidance of the great Abbé Suger, about the year 1144. In
England it hardly appeared till the rebuilding of Canterbury Cathedral,
under the guidance of a French architect, A.D. 1175; and in Germany it
is not found till, at all events, the beginning of the 13th century, and
can hardly be said to have taken firm root in that country till a
century at least after it had been fairly established in France.
The development of particular features will be pointed out as we
proceed; but no attempt will be made to arrange the cathedrals and great
buildings in chronological order. Such an attempt would merely lead to
confusion, as most of them took a century at least to erect—many of them
two.
In France, as in England, there is no one great typical building to
which we can refer as a standard of perfection—no Hypostyle Hall or
Parthenon which combines in itself all the excellences of the style
adopted; and we are forced therefore to cull from a number of examples
materials for the composition, even in imagination, of a perfect whole.
Germany has in this respect been more fortunate, possessing in Cologne
Cathedral an edifice combining all the beauties ever attempted to be
produced in pointed Gothic in that country. But even this is only an
imitation of French cathedrals, erected by persons who admired and
understood the details of the style, but were incapable of appreciating
its higher principles. The great cathedrals of Rheims, Chartres, and
Amiens, are all early examples of the style, and as they were erected
nearly simultaneously, none of their architects were able to profit by
the experience obtained in the others; they are consequently all more or
less experiments in a new and untried style. The principal parts of the
church of St. Ouen at Rouen, on the contrary, are of somewhat too late a
date; and beautiful though it is, masonic perfection was then coming to
be more considered than the expression either of poetry or of power.
Still in Rheims Cathedral we have a building possessing so many of the
perfections and characteristic beauties of the art, that it may almost
serve as a type of the earlier style, as St. Ouen may of the later; and
though we may regret the absence of the intermediate steps, except in
such fragments as the Sainte Chapelle at Paris, still between them we
may obtain a tolerably clear idea of the form to which French art
aspired during its most flourishing age.
To avoid as far as may be possible the tediousness of repetition
necessary if the attempt were made to describe each building separately,
and at the same time not to fall into the confusion that must result
from grouping the whole together, the most expedient mode will perhaps
be, to describe first the four great typical cathedrals of Paris,
Chartres, Rheims, and Amiens, and then to point out briefly the
principal resemblances and differences between these and the other
cathedrals of France.
[Illustration: 620. Plan of Cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris. (From
Chapuy, ‘Moyen-Âge Monumental.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
Of these four, that of Paris is the oldest; the foundation-stone having
been laid 1163, and the work carried on with such activity by the
bishop, Maurice de Sully, that the high altar was dedicated 1182, the
interior completed 1208, and the west front finished about the year
1214.
The history of the cathedral of Chartres (Woodcut No. 623) is not so
easily traced. An important church was erected there by Bishop Fulbert
in the beginning of the 11th century, of which building scarcely
anything now remains but the piers of the western doors and the vast
crypt. In 1115, according to Mr. Street,[351] a west front was commenced
and in 1194 the whole church was destroyed by fire. The new cathedral
was at once commenced, but upon the old foundations. As the old crypt
sustained no damage and it extended the whole length of the church, the
architect was obliged to build on the old lines, and thus we have, as
Mr. Street points out, a variation in the chapels of the chevet which is
extremely original and unlike any other example. The rebuilding was not
completed till the year 1260.
The cathedral of Rheims (Woodcut No. 624) was commenced in the year
1211, immediately after a fire which consumed the preceding building,
and under the auspices of Archbishop Alberic de Humbert,—Robert de Coucy
acting as trustee on the part of the laity. It was so far completed in
all essential parts as to be dedicated in 1241.
Amiens Cathedral (Woodcut No. 625) was commenced in 1220, and completed
in 1257; but being partially destroyed by fire the year afterwards, the
clerestory and all the upper parts of the church were rebuilt. The whole
appears to have been completed, nearly as we now find it, about the year
1272. From this period to the building of the choir of St. Ouen, at
Rouen, 1318-1339, there is a remarkable deficiency of great examples in
France. The intermediate space is very imperfectly filled by the
examples of St. Urbain at Troyes, St. Benigne at Dijon, and a few
others. These are just sufficient to show how exquisite the style then
was, and what we have lost by almost all the cathedrals of France having
been commenced simultaneously, and none being left in which the
experience of their predecessors could be made available.
Though the plans of these cathedrals differ to some extent, their
dimensions are very nearly the same; that at—
Paris, covering about 64,108 feet.
Chartres 68,260 feet.
Rheims 67,475 feet.
Amiens 71,208 feet.
These dimensions, though inferior to those of Cologne, Milan, Seville,
and some other exceptional buildings, are still as large as those of any
erected in the Middle Ages.
[Illustration: 621. Section of Side Aisles, Cathedral of Paris. (From
Gailhabaud, ‘Architecture.’) Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.]
[Illustration:
Original | Improved
Design | Design
622. External Elevation, Cathedral of Paris. (From Gailhabaud.)]
The cathedral of Paris was designed at a time when the architects had
not obtained that confidence in their own skill which made them
afterwards complete masters of the constructive difficulties of the
design. As shown in the plan (Woodcut No. 620), the points of support
are far more numerous and are placed nearer to one another than is
usually the case; and as may be seen from the section, instead of two
tall storeys, the height is divided into three, and made up, if I may so
express it, of a series of cells built over and beside each, so as to
obtain immense strength with a slight expenditure of materials.
[Illustration: 623. Plan of Chartres Cathedral. (From Chapuy.) Scale 100
ft. to 1 in.]
It must at the same time be confessed that this result was obtained with
a considerable sacrifice of grandeur and simplicity of effect. Even
before the building was completed, the architects seem to have become
aware of these defects; and as is shown in the woodcut (No. 622), the
simple undivided windows of the clerestory were cut down so as to give
them the greatest possible height, and the roof of the upper gallery
made flat to admit of this. Subsequently larger windows were introduced
between the buttresses, with a view to obtaining fewer and larger parts,
and also of course to admit of larger surfaces for painted glass. With
all these improvements the cathedral has not internally the same
grandeur as the other three, though externally there is a very noble
simplicity of outline and appearance of solidity in the whole design.
Internally it still retains, as may be seen from the plan, the
hexapartite arrangement in its vaults over the central aisle, and the
quadripartite in the side-aisles only. This causes the central vault to
overpower those on each side, and makes not only the whole church, but
all parts, look much smaller than would have been the case had the roof
been cut into smaller divisions, as was always subsequently the case.
[Illustration: 624. Plan of Rheims Cathedral. Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.
(From Chapuy.)]
[Illustration: 625. Plan of Amiens Cathedral. Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
At Chartres most of these defects were avoided; there is there a
simplicity of design and a grandeur of conception seldom surpassed. The
great defect of proportion in that building arises from the circumstance
that the architect included the three aisles of the old church in the
central aisle of the present one. At that time the architects had not
attained that daring perfection of execution which afterwards enabled
them to carry the vaults to so astonishing a height. At Chartres the
proportion of width to height is nearly as 1 to 2, the breadth of the
central nave being nearly 50 ft., and the height only 106. With the
great length of such buildings found in England such proportions were
tolerable, but in the shorter French cathedrals it gives an appearance
of depression which is far from being pleasing; and as the painted glass
has been almost entirely removed from the nave, a cold glare now
pervades the whole, which renders it extremely difficult to form an
opinion of the original effect.
[Illustration: 626. View of the Façade of the Cathedral at Paris. (From
Chapuy.)]
Most of those defects were avoided by the builders of the cathedral at
Rheims, and nothing can exceed the simple beauty and perfection of the
arrangement of the plan, as well as of the general harmony of all the
parts. The proportion, both in width and height, of the side-aisles to
the central nave, and the absence of side chapels and of any subsequent
additions, render the nave one of the most perfect in France. The mode
in which the church expands as you approach the choir, and the general
arrangement of the eastern part,[352] as shown in the plan (Woodcut No.
624), are equally excellent, and are surpassed by no building of the
Middle Ages. The piers are perhaps a little heavy, and their capitals
want simplicity; the triforium is if anything too plain; and at the
present day the effect of light in the church is in one respect
reversed, inasmuch as the clerestory retains its painted glass, which in
the side-aisles has been almost totally destroyed, making the building
appear as though lighted from below—an arrangement highly destructive of
architectural beauty. Notwithstanding all this, it far surpasses those
buildings which preceded it, and is only equalled by Amiens and those
completed afterwards. Their superiority however arose from the
introduction just at the time of their erection of complicated
window-tracery, enabling the builders to dispense almost wholly with
solid walls, and to make their clerestories at least one blaze of
gorgeous colouring. By the improvement in tracery then introduced, they
were able to dispose the glass in the most beautiful forms, and framed
in stone, so as to render it, notwithstanding its extent, still an
integral part of the whole building. In this respect the great height of
the clerestory at Amiens, and its exceeding lightness, give it an
immense advantage over the preceding churches, although this is gained
at the sacrifice, to a certain extent, of the sober and simple majesty
of the earlier examples. There is, nevertheless, so much beauty and so
much poetry in the whole effect that it is scarcely fair to apply the
cold rules of criticism to so fanciful and fascinating a creation.
Externally the same progress is observable in these four cathedrals as
in their interior arrangements. The façade of the cathedral at Paris
(Woodcut No. 626) is simple in its outline, and bold and majestic in all
its parts, and though perhaps a little open to the charge of heaviness,
it is admirably adapted to its situation, and both in design and
proportion fits admirably to the church to which it is attached. The
flanks, too, of the building, as originally designed, must have been
singularly beautiful; for, though sadly disfigured by the insertion of
chapels, which obliterate the buttresses and deprive it of that light
and shade so indispensable to architectural effect, there yet remain a
simplicity of outline, and an elegance in the whole form of the
building, which have not often been excelled in Gothic structures.
The lower part of the façade at Chartres (Woodcut No. 627) is older than
that of Paris, and so plain (it might almost be called rude) as hardly
to admit of comparison with it; but its two spires, of different ages,
are unsurpassed in France. Even in the southern or older of the two,
which was probably finished in the 12th century, we find all the
elements which were so fully developed in Germany and elsewhere in the
following centuries. The change from the square to the octagon, and from
the perpendicular part to the sloping sides of the spire, are managed
with the most perfect art; and were not the effect it produces destroyed
by the elaborate richness of the other spire, it would be considered one
of the most beautiful of its class. The new or northern spire was
erected by Jean Texier between the years 1507 and 1514, and,
notwithstanding the lateness of its date, it must be considered as on
the whole the most beautifully designed spire on the continent of
Europe; and, though not equal in height,[353] certainly far surpassing
in elegance of outline and appropriateness of design those at Strasburg,
Vienna, or even Antwerp. If it has rivals it is that at Friburg, or
those designed for the cathedral at Cologne; but were its details of the
same date, it can hardly be doubted that it would be considered the
finest spire of the three.
[Illustration: 627. North-west View of the Cathedral at Chartres. (From
Chapuy.)]
The transepts at Chartres have more projection than those of Paris, and
were originally designed with two towers to each, and two others were
placed one on each side of the choir; so that the cathedral would have
had eight towers altogether if completed; but none except the western
two have been carried higher than the springing of the roof; and though
they serve to vary the outline, they do not relieve, to the extent they
might have done, the heavy massiveness of the roof. In other respects
the external beauty of the cathedral is somewhat injured by the extreme
heaviness of the flying buttresses, which were deemed necessary to
resist the thrust of the enormous vault of the central nave; and, though
each is in itself a massive and beautiful object, they crowd the
clerestory to an inconvenient extent; the effect of which is also
somewhat injured by the imperfect tracery of the windows, each of which
more resembles separate openings grouped together than one grand and
simple window.
[Illustration: 628. Buttress at Chartres. (From Batissier, ‘Histoire de
l’Art.’)]
[Illustration: 629. Buttresses at Rheims. (From Chapuy.)]
The progress that took place between this building and that at Rheims is
more remarkable on the exterior than even in the interior. The façade of
that church, though small as compared with some others, was perhaps the
most beautiful structure produced during the Middle Ages; and, though it
is difficult to institute a rigorous comparison between things so
dissimilar, there is perhaps no façade either of ancient or of modern
times, that surpasses it in beauty of proportion and details, or in
fitness for the purpose for which it was designed. Nothing can exceed
the majesty of its deeply-recessed triple portals, the beauty of the
rose-window that surmounts them, or the elegance of the gallery that
completes the façade and serves as a basement to the light and graceful
towers that crown the composition. These were designed to carry spires,
no doubt as elegant and appropriate as themselves; but this part of the
design was never completed. The beautiful range of buttresses which
adorn the flanks of the building are also perhaps the most beautiful in
France, and carry the design of the façade back to the transepts. These
are late and less ornate than the western front, but are still
singularly beautiful, though wanting the two towers designed to complete
them. On the intersection of the nave with the transepts there rose at
one time a spire of wood, probably as high as the intended spires of the
western towers, and one still crowns the ridge of the chevet, rising to
half the height above the roof that the central one was intended to
attain. Were these all complete, we should have the beau ideal
externally of a French cathedral, with one central and two western
spires, and four towers at the ends of the transepts. All these perhaps
never were fully completed in any instance, though the rudiments of the
arrangement are found in almost all the principal French cathedrals. In
some, as for instance at Rouen, it was carried out in number, though at
such different periods and of such varied design as to destroy that
unity of effect essential to perfect beauty.
The external effect of Amiens may be taken rather as an example of the
defects of the general design of French cathedrals than as an
illustration of their beauties. The western façade presents the same
general features as those of Paris and Rheims, but the towers are so
small in proportion to the immense building behind as to look mean and
insignificant, while all the parts are so badly put together as to
destroy in a great measure the effect they were designed to produce. The
northern tower is 223 ft. high, the southern 205; both therefore are
higher than those at York, but instead of being appropriate and
beautiful adjuncts to the building they are attached to, they only serve
in this instance to exaggerate the gigantic incubus of a roof, 208 ft.
in height, which overpowers the building it is meant to adorn.
The same is the case with the central spire, which, though higher than
that at Salisbury, being 422 ft. high from the pavement, is reduced from
the same cause to comparative insignificance, and is utterly unequal to
the purpose of relieving the heaviness of outline for which this
cathedral is remarkable. The filling up of the spaces between the
buttresses of the nave with chapels prevents the transepts from having
their full value, and gives an unpleasing fulness and flatness to the
entire design.
All French cathedrals are more or less open to these objections, and are
deficient in consequence of that exquisite variety of outline and play
of light and shade for which the English examples are so remarkable; but
it still remains a question how far the internal loftiness and the glory
of their painted glass compensate for these external defects. The truth
perhaps would be found in a mean between the two extremes, which has not
unfortunately been attained in any one example; and this arises mainly
from the fact that, besides the effect of mass or beauty of outline,
there were many minor considerations of use or beauty that governed the
design. We must consequently look closely at the details, and restore,
in imagination at least, the building in all its completeness, before we
can discover how far the general effect was necessarily sacrificed for
particular purposes.
What painted glass was to the interior of a French cathedral sculpture
was to the exterior. Almost all the arrangements of the façade were
modified mainly to admit of its display to the greatest possible extent.
The three great cavernous porches of the lower part would be ugly and
unmeaning in the highest degree without the sculptures that adorn them.
The galleries above are mere ranges of niches, as unmeaning without
their statues as the great mullioned windows without their “storeyed
panes.” In such lateral porches too, as those for instance at Chartres,
the architecture is wholly subordinate to the sculpture; and in a
perfect cathedral of the 13th century the buttresses, pinnacles, even
the gargoyles, every “coign of vantage,” tells its tale by some image or
representation of some living thing, giving meaning and animation to the
whole. The cathedral thus became an immense collection of sculptures,
containing not only the whole history of the world as then known and
understood, but also of an immense number of objects representing the
arts and sciences of the Middle Ages. Thus the great cathedrals of
Chartres and Rheims even now retain some 5000 figures, scattered about
or grouped together in various parts, beginning with the history of the
creation of the world and all the wondrous incidents of the 1st chapter
of Genesis, and thence continuing the history through the whole of the
Old Testament. In these sculptures the story of the redemption of
mankind is told as set forth in the New Testament, with a distinctness,
and at the same time with an earnestness, almost impossible to surpass.
On the other hand ranges of statues of kings of France and other popular
potentates carry on the thread of profane history to the period of the
erection of the cathedral itself. In addition to these we have
interspersed with them, a whole system of moral philosophy, as
illustrated by the virtues and the vices, each represented by an
appropriate symbol, and the reward or punishment its invariable
accompaniment. In other parts are shown all the arts of peace, every
process of husbandry in its appropriate season, and each manufacture or
handicraft in all its principal forms. Over all these are seen the
heavenly hosts, with saints, angels, and archangels. All this is so
harmoniously contrived and so beautifully expressed, that it becomes a
question even now whether the sculpture of these cathedrals does not
excel the architecture.
In the Middle Ages, when books were rare, and those who could read them
rarer still, this sculpture was certainly most valuable as a means of
popular education; but, as Victor Hugo beautifully expresses it, “Ceci
tuera cela: le livre tuera l’Église.” The printing-press has rendered
all this of little value to the present generation, and it is only
through the eyes of the artist or the antiquary that we can even dimly
appreciate what was actual instruction to the less educated citizens of
the Middle Ages, and the medium through which they learned the history
of the world, or heard the glad tidings of salvation conveyed from God
to man. All this, few, if any, can fully enter into now; but unless it
is felt to at least some extent, it is impossible these wonderful
buildings can ever be appreciated. In the Middle Ages, the sculpture,
the painting, the music of the people were all found in the cathedrals,
and there only. Add to this their ceremonies, their sanctity, especially
that conferred by the relics of saints and martyrs which they contained—
all these things made these buildings all in all to those who erected
and to those who worshipped in them.
[Illustration: 630. Bay of Nave of Beauvais Cathedral. No scale.]
The cathedral of Beauvais is generally mentioned in conjunction with
that of Amiens, and justly so, not only in consequence of its local
proximity, and from its being so near it in date, but also from a
general similarity in style. Beauvais is in fact an exaggeration of
Amiens, and shows defects of design more to be expected in Germany than
in France. It was commenced five years later than Amiens, or in 1225,
and the works were vigorously pursued between the years 1249 and 1267,
though the dedication did not take place till 1272. The architects, in
their rivalry of their great neighbour, seem to have attempted more than
they had skill to perform, for the roof fell in in 1284, and when
rebuilt, additional strength was given by the insertion of another pier
between every two of those in the old design, which served to exaggerate
the apparent height of the pier arches. Emboldened by this, they seem to
have determined to carry the clerestory to the unprecedented height of
150 ft., or about three times the width, measuring from the centre of
one pier to that of the next. It is difficult to say what the effect
might have been had the cathedral been completed with a long nave, an
acute vault, wide pier-spaces and bold massive supports; possibly
however not so sublime as the choir alone is at present, for, owing to
its limited floor area, the eye has only to glance aloft and the
stupendous height and the magnificent construction produce an effect of
splendour and size which is only excelled by that of the great Hall of
Karnac and the interior of St. Sophia.[354] The qualities just quoted of
the choir would seem to have inspired the builders of later generations,
for although the south transept was commenced only in 1500, and the
northern one thirty years later, being finished only in 1537, there is a
simplicity and grandeur in their treatment which places them far ahead
of the contemporary façade of the cathedral of Rouen, built (1509-30) by
Cardinal d’Amboise, which is of a most florid character, and looks like
a piece of rough rockwork encrusted with images and tabernacles, and
ornamented from top to bottom. In 1555 the architects of Beauvais being
seized with the desire of rivalling the dome of St. Peter’s at Rome,
which was then the object of universal admiration, undertook the
construction of a spire on the intersection of the transepts, which they
completed in thirteen years, but which stood only five years from that
time, having fallen down on the day of the Ascension in the year 1573.
This accident so damaged the works under it as to require considerable
reconstruction, which is what we now see. This spire, of which the
original drawings still exist, was 486 ft. in height; and although, as
might be expected from the age in which it was erected, not of the
purest design, must still have been a very noble and beautiful object,
hardly inferior to that of Chartres, which was built only half a century
earlier.
[Illustration: 631. Doorway, South Transept, Beauvais. (From Chapuy.)]
[Illustration: 632. Plan of Cathedral at Noyon. (From Ramée’s
‘Monographie.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
Taken altogether, the cathedral of Beauvais may be considered as an
example of that “vaulting ambition that o’erleaps itself.” Every
principle of Gothic art is here carried to an extreme which tends to
destroy the object with which it was designed, and not only partially
has caused the ruin of the building and practically prevented its
completion, but has run the risk of destroying its artistic effect, so
as to make it an example of what should be avoided rather than of what
should be followed. It has perhaps that want of repose and solidity
which has often been made the reproach of Gothic architecture. And were
it not for the perfection of its masonry and the majesty of its size,
the additional piers which it was found necessary to insert might be
regarded as props applied to prevent its falling, instead of suggesting,
as they do, additional strength and insuring durability. There is one
example in France in which this danger of carrying the principles of
Gothic art to its extreme is painfully evident. The church of St. Urbain
of Troyes, mentioned farther on, p. 155, and the choir of which has just
been restored (1891) and filled with modern stained glass, resembles
more an ephemeral construction in iron and glass, a sort of mediæval
crystal palace, than one in which the solid construction of its masonry
should give repose and a sense of solidity and strength.
[Illustration: 633. Spires of Laon Cathedral. (From Dusomerard.)]
The cathedral of Noyon is an earlier example, and one of the best and
most elegant transition specimens in France, having been commenced about
the year 1137, and completed, as we now see it, in 1167. Here the
circular arch had not entirely disappeared, which was owing to its early
date, and to its situation near the German border, and its connection
with the see of Tournay, with which it was long united. Like the sister
church of that place, it was triapsal, which gave it great elegance of
arrangement. The one defect of this form seems to be, that it does not
lend itself easily to the combination of towers which were then so much
in vogue.
In singular contrast to this is the neighbouring cathedral of Laon, one
of the very few in France which have no chevet. It terminates with a
square east end, like an English church, except that it has there a
great circular window only, instead of the immense wall of glass usually
adopted in this country. In style it more resembles the cathedral of
Paris than any other, though covering less ground and smaller in all its
features. Its great glory is its crowning group of towers. The two
western (with the exception of their spires) and the two at the end of
the northern transept are complete. On the southern side only one has
been carried to its full height, and the central lantern is now crowned
by a low pyramidal roof instead of the tall spire that must once have
adorned it; but even as they now are, the six that remain, whether seen
from the immediate neighbourhood of the building or from the plain
below—for it stands most nobly on the flat top of a high isolated hill—
have a highly picturesque and pleasing effect, and notwithstanding the
rudeness of some of its details, and its deficiency in sculpture, it is
in many respects one of the most interesting of the cathedrals of
France.
[Illustration: 634. View of Cathedral at Coutances. (From ‘Transactions
of Institute of British Architects.’)]
One of the earliest of the complete pointed Gothic churches of France is
that of Coutances (Woodcut No. 634), the whole of which belongs to the
first half of the 13th century, and though poor in sculpture, makes up
for this to some extent by the elegance of its architectural details,
which are unrivalled or nearly so in France.
Externally it possesses two western spires, and one octagonal lantern
over the intersection of the nave and transept, which, both for beauty
of detail and appropriateness, is the best specimen of its class, and
only wants the crowning spire to make this group of towers equal to
anything on this side of the channel.
Notre Dame de Dijon is another example of the same early and elegant
age, but possessing the Burgundian peculiarity of a deeply recessed
porch or narthex, surmounted by a façade of two open galleries, one over
the other, exactly in the manner of the churches of Pisa and Lucca of
the 11th and 12th centuries, of which it may be considered an imitation.
It is, however, as unsatisfactory in pointed Gothic, even with the very
best details, as it is in the pseudo-classical style of Pisa, forming in
either case a remarkably unmeaning mode of decoration.
[Illustration: 635. Lady Chapel, Auxerre. (From Chapuy.)]
The cathedrals of Sens and Auxerre are pure examples of pointed
architecture. The latter (A.D. 1213) internally rivals perhaps even
Coutances. Nothing can be more elegant than the junction of the lady
chapel here with the chevet; for though this is almost always pleasingly
arranged, the design has been unusually successful in this instance. The
two slender shafts, shown in the Woodcut No. 635, just suffice to give
it pre-eminence and dignity, without introducing any feature so large as
to disturb the harmony of the whole.
In the great church of St. Quentin, the five chapels of the chevet have
each two pillars, arranged similarly to these of the lady chapel at
Auxerre; and though the effect is rich and varied, the result is not
quite so happy as in this instance. Taken altogether, however, few
chevets in France are more perfect and beautiful than this almost
unknown example.
The cathedral of Troyes, commenced in 1206, and continued steadily for
more than three centuries, is one of the few in France, designed
originally with five aisles and a range of chapels. The effect, however,
is far from satisfactory. The great width thus given makes the whole
appear low, and the choir wants that expansion and dignity which is so
pleasing at Rheims and Chartres. Still the details and design of the
earlier parts are good and elegant; and the west front (Woodcut No.
637), though belonging wholly to the 16th century, is one of the most
pleasing specimens of flamboyant work in France, being rich without
exuberance, and devoid of the bad taste that sometimes disfigures works
of this class and age.
The cathedral at Soissons is one of the most pleasing of all these
churches. Nothing can surpass the justness of the proportions of the
central and side aisles both in themselves and to one another. Though
the church is not large, and principally of that age—the latter half of
the 13th century—in which the effect depended so much on painted glass,
now destroyed or disarranged, it still deserves a place in the first
rank of French cathedrals.
[Illustration: 636. Plan of Cathedral at Troyes. (From Arnaud, ‘Voyage
dans le Département de l’Aube.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
The two cathedrals of Toul and Tours present many points of great
beauty, but their most remarkable features are their western façades,
both of late date, each possessing two towers terminating in octagonal
lanterns, with details verging on the style of the Renaissance, and yet
so Gothic in design and so charmingly executed as almost to induce the
belief, in spite of the fanciful extravagance which it displays, that
the architects were approaching to something new and beautiful when the
mania for classical details overtook them.
The two cathedrals of Limoges and Dijon belong to the latter half of the
13th century, and will consequently when better known fill a gap
painfully felt in the history of the art.
[Illustration: 637. Façade of Cathedral at Troyes. (From Arnaud.)]
It would be tedious to enumerate all the great cathedrals of the
country, or to attempt to describe their peculiarities; but we must not
omit all mention of such as Lisieux, remarkable for its beautiful
façade, and Evreux, for the beauty of many of its parts, though the
whole is too much a patchwork to produce an entirely pleasing effect.
Nevers, too, is remarkable as being one of the only two double-apse
cathedrals in France, Besançon being the other. At Nevers this was owing
to the high altar having been originally at the west, a defect felt to
be intolerable in France in the 16th century, when the church was
rebuilt, when it was done without destroying the old sanctuary.
Bordeaux, already mentioned for its noble nave without aisles, possesses
a chevet worthy of it, and two spires of great beauty at the ends of the
transepts, the only spires so placed, I think, in France. Autun has a
spire on the intersection of the nave with the transepts as beautiful as
anything of the same class elsewhere. The cathedral of Lyons is
interesting, as showing how hard it was for the Southern people of
France to shake off their old style and adopt that of their Northern
neighbours. With much grandeur and elegance of details, it is still so
clumsy in design, that neither the whole nor any of its parts can be
considered as satisfactory. The windows, for instance, as shown in the
woodcut (No. 638), look more like specimens of the so-called carpenter’s
Gothic of modern times than examples of the art of the Middle Ages.
There still remains to be mentioned the cathedral at Rouen. This
remarkable building possesses parts belonging to all ages, and exhibits
most of the beauties, as also, it must be confessed, most of the defects
of each style. It was erected with a total disregard to all rule, yet so
splendid and so picturesque that we are almost driven to the wild
luxuriance of nature to find anything to which we can compare it.
Internally its nave, though rich, is painfully cut up into small parts.
The undivided piers of the choir, on the contrary, are too simple for
their adjuncts. Externally, the transept towers are beautiful in
themselves, but are overpowered by the richness of those of the west
front. The whole of that façade, in spite of the ruin of some of its
most important features, and the intrusion of much modern vulgarity, may
be called a romance in stone, consisting as it does of a profusion of
the most playful fancies. Like most of the cathedrals near our shores,
that of Rouen was designed to have a central spire; this, however, was
not completed till late in the cinque-cento age, and then only in vulgar
woodwork, meant to imitate stone. That being destroyed, an attempt has
lately been made to replace it by still more vulgar iron-work, leaner
and poorer than almost anything else of modern times.
[Illustration: 638. Window of Cathedral at Lyons. (From Peyrée’s ‘Manuel
de l’Architecture.’)]
[Illustration: 639. Plan of Cathedral at Bazas. (From Lamothe.[355])
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
In the preceding pages, all mention of the cathedrals of Bazas and
Bourges has been purposely omitted, because they belong to a different
type from the above. The first (Woodcut No. 639) is one of the most
perfect specimens of the pure Gothic style in the South of France. Its
noble triple portal, filled with exquisite sculpture, and its extensive
chevet, make it one of the most beautiful of its class. It shows no
trace of a transept,—a peculiarity, as before pointed out, by no means
uncommon in the South. This, though a defect in so far as external
effect is concerned, gives great value to the internal dimensions, the
appearance of length being far greater than when the view is broken by
the intersection of the transept.
[Illustration: 640. Plan of Cathedral at Bourges. (From Girardot,
‘Description de la Cathédrale.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
This is still more striking at Bourges, where the cathedral, though one
of the finest and largest in France, covering 73,170 square feet, is
still one of the shortest, being only 405 ft. in extreme length; yet,
owing to the central aisle being wholly unbroken, it appears one of the
longest, as it certainly is one of the most majestic of all. This
cathedral possesses also another Southern peculiarity of more
questionable advantage, in having five aisles in three different
heights. The section (Woodcut No. 640) will explain this. The central
aisle is 117 ft. in height, those next to it 66 ft. high, the two outer
only 28. These last appear to destroy the harmony of the whole, for on
an inspection of the building, the outer aisles do not appear to belong
to the design, but look more like afterthoughts. At Milan, Bologna, and
other places in Italy, where this gradation is common, this mistake is
avoided, and the effect proportionably increased; and except that this
arrangement does not admit of such large window spaces, in other
respects it is not quite clear that, where double aisles are used, it
would not always be better that they should be of different heights.
This arrangement of the aisles was never again fairly tried in France;
but even as it is, the cathedral of Bourges must rank after the four
first mentioned as the finest and most perfect of the remaining edifices
of its class in that country. It is singularly beautiful in its details,
and happy in its main proportions; for owing to the omission of the
transept, the length is exquisitely adapted to the other dimensions. Had
a transept been added, at least 100 ft. of additional length would have
been required to restore the harmony; and though externally it would no
doubt have gained by such an adjunct, this gain would not have been
adequate to the additional expense so incurred.
[Illustration: 641. Section of Cathedral at Bourges. (From Drawings by
F. Penrose, Esq., Architect.) Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.]
The greater part of the western façade of this cathedral is of a later
date than the building itself, and is extended so much beyond the
proportions required for effect as to overpower the rest of the
building, so that it is only from the sides or the eastern end that all
the beauty of this church can be appreciated.
As far as regards size or richness of decoration, the cathedral of
Orleans deserves to rank as one of the very first in France, and is
remarkable as the only first-class Gothic cathedral erected in Europe
since the Middle Ages. The original church on this site having been
destroyed by the Calvinists, the present cathedral was commenced in the
year 1601 by Henry IV. of France, and although the rebuilding proceeded
at first with great vigour, and the work was never wholly discontinued,
it is even now hardly completed.
Considering the age in which it was built, and the contemporary
specimens of so-called Gothic art erected in France and England, it is
wonderful how little of classical admixture has been allowed to creep
into the design of this building, and how closely it adhered to every
essential of the style adopted. In plan, in arrangement, and indeed in
details, it is so correct, that it requires considerable knowledge to
define the difference between this and an older building of the same
class. Still there is a wide difference, which makes itself felt though
not easily described, and consists in the fact that the old cathedrals
were built by men who had a true perception of their art; while the
modern example only bears evidence of a well-learnt lesson distinctly
repeated, but without any real feeling for the subject. This want
betrays itself in an unmeaning repetition of parts, in a deficiency of
depth and richness, and in a general poverty of invention.
COLLEGIATE CHURCHES.
It would not be difficult to select out of the collegiate churches of
France as complete a series as of the cathedrals, though of inferior
size. But having already gone through the one class of buildings, we
must confine ourselves to a brief notice of the other. The church of
Charité sur Loire was one of the most picturesque and beautiful in
France. It is now partially ruined, though still retaining enough of its
original features to illustrate clearly the style to which it belongs.
Originally the church was about 350 ft. in length by 90 in breadth. One
tower of the western front, one aisle, and the whole of the choir still
remain, and belong without doubt to the church dedicated in 1106 by Pope
Pascal. The presence of the pointed form in the pier arches and vaults
has induced some to believe that this church belongs to the reign of
Philip Augustus, about a century later, and when the church was restored
after a great fire. Its southern position, however, the circumstance of
its being the earliest daughter church of the abbey of Cluny, and the
whole style of the building, are proofs of its earlier age. All the
decorative parts, and all the external openings, still retain the
circular form as essentially as if the pointed had never been
introduced.
The most remarkable feature in this church is the exuberance of the
ornament with which all the parts are decorated, so very unlike the
massive rudeness of the contemporary Norman or Northern styles. The
capitals of the pillars, the arches of the triforium, the jambs of the
windows and the cornices, all show a refinement and love of ornament
characteristic of a far more advanced and civilised people than those of
the Northern provinces of France.
Among those who were present at the dedication of this church was the
Abbé Suger, then a gay young man of twenty years of age, who about
thirty years later, in the plenitude of his power, commenced the
building of the abbey of St. Denis, near Paris, the west front of which
was dedicated in the year 1140, and rest of the church built “stupendâ
celeritate,” and dedicated in 1144. Though certainly not the earliest,
St. Denis may be considered as the typical example of the earliest
pointed Gothic in France. It terminated the era of transition, and fixed
the epoch when the Northern pointed style became supreme, to the total
exclusion of the round-arched style that preceded it. The effect of
Suger’s church is now destroyed by a nave of the 14th century—of great
beauty it must be confessed—which is interpolated between the western
front and the choir, both which remain in all essentials as left by him,
and enable us to decide without hesitation on the state of architectural
art at the time of the dedication of the church.
A few years later was commenced the once celebrated abbey of Pontigny,
near Auxerre, probably in 1150, and completed, as we now find it, within
15 or 20 years from that date.
[Illustration: 642. View in the Church of Charité sur Loire. (From a
Sketch by the Author.)]
Externally it displays an almost barn-like simplicity, having no towers
or pinnacles—plain undivided windows, and no ornament of any sort. The
same simplicity reigns in the interior, but the varied form and play of
light and shade here relieve it to a sufficient extent, and make it
altogether, if not one of the most charming examples of its age, at
least one of the most instructive, as showing how much effect can be
obtained by ornamental arrangement with the smallest possible amount of
ornament. In obedience to the rules of the Cistercian order, it neither
had towers nor painted glass, which last circumstance perhaps adds to
its beauty, as we now see it, for the windows being small, admit just
light enough for effect, without the painful glare that now streams
through the large mullioned windows of the cathedral of Auxerre.
To the Englishman, Pontigny should be more than usually interesting, as
it was here that the three most celebrated archbishops of Canterbury—
Becket, Langton, and Edmund—found an asylum when driven by the troubles
of their native land to seek a refuge abroad, and the bones of the
last-named sainted prelate are said still to remain in the _châsse_,
represented in the woodcut, and are now and have been for centuries the
great object of worship here.
[Illustration: 643. Chevet, Pontigny. (From Chaillou des Barres.)]
About a century after the erection of these two early specimens, we have
two others, the dates of which are ascertained, and which exhibit the
pointed style in its greatest degree of perfection. The first, the
Sainte Chapelle in Paris, was commenced in 1241, and dedicated in
1244;[356] the other, the church of St. Urban at Troyes, was begun in
1262, and the choir and transept completed in 1266. Both are only
fragments—choirs to which it was originally intended to add naves of
considerable extent. The proportions of the Sainte Chapelle are in
consequence somewhat too tall and short; but the noble simplicity of its
design, the majesty of its tall windows, and the beauty of all its
details, render it one of the most perfect examples of the style at its
culminating point in the reign of St. Louis. Now that the whole of the
painted glass has been restored, and the walls repainted according to
what may be assumed to have been the original design, we are enabled to
judge of the effect of such a building in the Middle Ages. It may be
that our eyes are not educated up to the mark, or that the restorers
have not quite grasped the ancient design; but the effect as now seen is
certainly not quite satisfactory. The painted glass is glorious, but the
effect would certainly have been more pleasing if all the structural
parts of the architecture had been of one colour. There is no repose
about the interior—nothing to explain the construction. The flat parts
may have been painted as they now are; but surely the shafts and ribs
could only have been treated as stone.
[Illustration: 644. West Front of Ste. Marie de l’Épine. (From
Dusomerard.)]
The other was founded by Pope Urban IV., a native of Troyes, and would
have been completed as a large and magnificent church, but for the
opposition of some contumacious nuns, who had sufficient power and
influence even in those days to thwart the designs of the Pope himself.
Its great perfection is the beauty of its details, in which it is
unsurpassed by anything in France or in Germany; its worst defect is a
certain exaggerated temerity of construction, which tends to show how
fast, even when this church was designed, architecture was passing from
the hands of the true artist into those of the mason, whose attempts to
astonish by wonders of construction then and ever afterwards completely
marred the progress of the art which was thought to be thereby promoted.
About seventy years after this we come to the choir of St. Ouen, and to
another beautiful little church, Ste. Marie de l’Épine (Woodcut No.
644), near Châlons sur Marne, commenced apparently about 1329, though
not completed till long afterwards.[357] It is small—a miniature
cathedral in fact—like our St. Mary Redcliffe, which in many respects it
resembles, and is a perfect bijou of its class. One western spire
remains—the other was destroyed to make room for a telegraph—and is not
only beautiful in itself, but interesting as almost the only example of
an open-work spire in France.
The church of St. Ouen, at Rouen, was beyond comparison the most
beautiful and perfect of the abbey edifices of France. This was
commenced by Marc d’Argent in the year 1318, and was carried on
uninterruptedly for twenty-one years, and at his death the choir and
transept were completed, or very nearly so. The English wars interrupted
at this time the progress of this, as of many other buildings, and the
works of the nave were not seemingly resumed till about 1490, and
twenty-five years later the beautiful western front was commenced.
Except that of Limoges, the choir is almost the only perfect building of
its age, and being nearly contemporary with the choir at Cologne (1276
to 1321), affords a means of comparison between the two styles of
Germany and France at that age, entirely to the advantage of the French
example, which, though very much smaller, avoids all the more glaring
faults of the other.
[Illustration: 645. Plan of Church of St. Ouen at Rouen. (From Peyrée’s
‘Manuel.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
[Illustration: 646. Church of St. Ouen at Rouen, from the S.E. (From
Chapuy.)]
Nothing indeed can exceed the beauty of proportion of this most elegant
church; and except that it wants the depth and earnestness of the
earlier examples, it may be considered as the most beautiful thing of
its kind in Europe. The proportion too of the nave, transepts, and choir
to one another is remarkably happy, and affords a most striking contrast
to the very imperfect proportions of Cologne. Its three towers also
would have formed a perfect group as originally designed, but the
central one was not completed till so late, that its details have lost
the aspiring character of the building on which it stands, and the
western spires, as rebuilt within the last few years, are incongruous
and inappropriate; whereas had the original design been carried out
according to the drawings which still exist, it would have been one of
the most beautiful façades known anywhere. The diagonal position of the
towers met most happily the difficulty of giving breadth to the façade
without placing them beyond the line of the aisles, as is done in the
cathedral of Rouen, and at the same time gave a variety to the
perspective which must have had the most pleasing effect. Had the idea
occurred earlier, few western towers would have been placed otherwise;
but the invention came too late, and within the last few years we have
seen all traces of the arrangement ruthlessly obliterated.
The style of the choir of this church may be fairly judged from the view
of the southern porch (Woodcut No. 647). This has all that perfection of
detail which we are accustomed to admire in Cologne Cathedral, and the
works of the time of our Second Edward, combined with a degree of
lightness and grace peculiar to this church. The woodcut is too small to
show the details of the sculpture in the tympanum above the doors, but
that too is of exquisite beauty, and being placed where it can be so
well seen, and at the same time so perfectly protected, it heightens the
architectural design without in any way seeming to interfere with it.
This is a somewhat rare merit in French portals. In most of them it is
evident that the architect has been controlled in his design in order to
make room for the immense quantity of sculpture which usually crowds
them. On the other hand, the position of the figures is often forced and
constrained, and the bas-reliefs nearly unintelligible, from the
architects having been unable to give the sculptor that unencumbered
space which was requisite for the full development of his ideas.
[Illustration: 647. Southern Porch of St. Ouen at Rouen. (From Chapuy.)]
It would be easy to select numerous examples from the collegiate and
parish churches of France to extend this series. Our limits will not,
however, admit of the mention of more than one other instance. The
sepulchral church of Brou en Bresse was erected between 1511 and 1536,
by Margaret of Austria, daughter of Maximilian, and aunt of Charles V.,
Emperor of Germany. It was therefore nearly contemporary with Henry
VII.’s Chapel at Westminster, and thus affords the means of comparison
between the English and French styles of the day, which is wholly in
favour of our own; both are the most florid specimens of their class in
either country, but at Brou, both externally and internally, all majesty
of form and constructive propriety are lost sight of; and though we
wonder that stone could be cut into such a marvellous variety of
lace-like forms, and are dazzled by the splendour of the whole, it is
with infinite pleasure that we turn from these elaborate specimens of
declining taste to an earlier and purer style. Fascinating as some of
these late buildings undoubtedly are from the richness of decorative
fancy that reigns in every detail, still they can only be regarded as
the productions of the stonemason and carver, and not of the arts of the
architect or sculptor so called.
In the city of Rouen we also find the beautiful church of St. Maclou
(1432-1500), a gorgeous specimen of the later French style, presenting
internally all the attenuation and defects of its age; but in the five
arcades of its beautiful western front it displays one of the richest
and most elegant specimens of flamboyant work in France. It also shows
what the façade of St. Ouen would have been if completed as designed.
This church once possessed a noble central tower and spire, destroyed in
1794. When all this was complete, few churches of its age could have
competed with it.
St. Jacques at Dieppe is another church of the same age, and possessing
the same lace-like beauty of detail and elaborate finish, which charms
in spite of soberer reason, that tells us it is not in stone that such
vagaries should be attempted. Abbeville, St. Riquier, and all the
principal towns throughout that part of France, are rich in specimens of
the late Gothic, of which we are now speaking. These specimens are in
many respects beautiful, but in all that constitutes true and good art
they are inferior to those of the glorious epoch which preceded them.