and more recently as "Stift zu unser lieben Frauen," was built in 1581,
numerous Gothic sculptures from the cathedral being used in its
construction. There is here a remarkable spiral staircase in the light
and delicate flowered Gothic of its time.
[Illustration]
X
METZ
From across the Moselle, on the height just to the south of the city of
Metz, is to be had one of those widely spread panoramas which defy the
artist or the photographer to reproduce.
There is an old French saying that the Rhine had power; the Rhône
impetuosity; the Loire nobility; and the Moselle elegance and grace.
This last is well shown in the charming river-bottom which spreads
itself about the ancient Mediomatricorum, as Metz was known to the
Romans.
The enormously tall nave and transepts of the cathedral of Metz dominate
every other structure in the city, in a fashion quite in keeping with
the strategic importance of the place from a military point of view.
Time was when ecclesiastical affairs and military matters were much more
closely allied than now, and certainly if there was any inspiration to
be got from a highly impressive religious monument in their midst, the
warriors of another day, at Metz, must have felt that they were doubly
blessed.
[Illustration: _Metz_]
Since the Franco-Prussian war, Metz, with Strasburg, has become
transformed; but its ancient monuments still exist to charm and gratify
the antiquarian. Indeed, it was as recently as 1900 that the Tour des
Lennyers, a wonderful structure of Roman times, was discovered.
Metz was fortified as early as in the third century, and to-day its
walls and moats, though modern,--the work of Vauban,--are still wonders
of their kind.
In the Roman period the city was of great importance. In the fifth
century it was attacked, taken, and destroyed by the Huns; but, when it
was rebuilt and became the capital of Austrasia, its prosperity grew
rapidly. In 1552 the Due de Montmorenci made himself master of the city,
and some months later Henri II. made his _entrée_. During the winter of
the same year it successfully resisted Charles V., thanks to François de
Lorraine and the Duc de Guise.
The great abbey of St. Arnulphe disappeared at this time. It stood on
the site of the present railroad station, where, in 1902, were found
many fragments of religious sculptures, coming presumably from the old
abbey.
In 1556-62 the citadel was constructed by Maréchal Vielleville. Within
the citadel was the old church of St. Pierre, one of those minor works
of great beauty which are often overlooked when summing up the treasures
of a cathedral town. The old church dated originally from the seventh
century, though reconstructed anew in the tenth, and again in the
fifteenth century.
The walls of the surrounding fortifications are of incontestable
antiquity. Beneath the pavement of the chapel have recently been found
fragments of sculptured stone dating from Merovingian times.
It was during a dangerous illness at Metz that Louis XV. is said to have
made the vow which led to the erection of that pagan-looking structure,
the church of Sainte Genéviève, more commonly known as the Pantheon, at
Paris. It is the largest modern church in France, if, indeed, one can
really consider it to-day as a church.
Metz, before its annexation by Germany, was as French as Reims or
Troyes. Many of the natives of the city have since left, but they have
been replaced by Germans, so the population has not suffered in numbers.
Of a population of forty-five thousand, there are twenty-four thousand
soldiers. Hotels, shops, and cafés have become Germanized, but,
curiously enough, many, if not nearly all, of the cab-drivers speak
French, and French money passes current everywhere.
Certain restaurants preserve what they call the _traditions de la
cuisine française_, and in the municipal theatre a company of French
players come from Nancy three times a week in the winter season.
Metz, one of the three ancient bishoprics of imperial Lorraine, now
forms a part of Elsass-Lothringen, where the German Emperor reigns as
emperor and not merely as King of Prussia.
The churches of Metz show very little of Romanesque influences, though
it is indeed strong in churches dating from the thirteenth century
onward. Early Gothic in nearly every shade of excellence is to be found
in the churches of Metz, from the cathedral church of St. Stephen
downwards, and, because of this, it is the Continental city where the
development of the style can be most thoroughly studied and appreciated.
In many cases there are only fragments, at least, that which is to be
admired is more or less fragmentary; but, in spite of that, they are
none the less precious and valuable as a record.
Besides its churches, Metz has, in its ancient donjon or castle-keep, a
singularly impressive monument of its past greatness, which stands in
the _Geisbergstrasse_, or the _Rue de Chèvremont_, as the street is
called by the French, for Metz, like Strasburg and the other cities and
towns of poor rent Alsace and Lorraine, is even yet a muddle of French
and German proper names.
This great pile was doubtless the former royal shelter of Theodoric and
others of his line.
To-day Metz is mostly a city of strategic fortifications; but this is
but one aspect, and the seat of the renowned bishopric of Lorraine has
in its cathedral church an ecclesiastical monument of almost supreme
rank.
St. Stephen's Cathedral is a vast structure of quaint and almost
grotesque outline, when seen from across the Moselle. Its chief
distinction, at first glance, is its height, which seems to dwarf all
its other proportions; but in reality it is attenuated in none of its
dimensions, and its clerestory is hugely impressive, where one so often
finds this feature a mere range of shallow windows.
Among the great churches of Northern Europe, the cathedral of St.
Stephen stands third, it being surpassed only by the cathedrals of
Beauvais and Cologne.
This fact is frequently overlooked, and ordinarily Metz would be classed
with that secondary group which includes Reims, Bourges, and Narbonne;
but so accurate an authority as Professor Freeman vouches for the
statement.
The clerestory, of a prodigious height, is borne aloft by a series of
rather squat-looking pillars, but again figures demonstrate that the
cathedral at Metz is truly one of the wonders of its kind.
There is a north tower which is, or was, a part of the civic
establishment as well, in that it contained an alarm-bell, similar to
those employed in the Netherlands, known as La Mutte. Twin towerlets
straddle the nave of the cathedral in a quite unexplainable manner.
Altogether the building has a most remarkable and not wholly beautiful
sky-line, to which one must become accustomed before it is wholly loved.
Decidedly the least likable portion of the exterior of St. Stephen's is
the west front, which is decidedly incongruous, whereas in most places
it is the west front that shines and is truly brilliant. Certainly, in
this respect Metz does not follow that French tradition which, in its
Gothic churches, it otherwise obeys.
St. Stephen's really rises to almost a supreme height. It has been said
to exceed that of Amiens and Beauvais, but this is manifestly not so,
for, if the figures are correct, it is some seven feet lower than Amiens
and twenty lower than Beauvais. Still, it rises to a daring height, and
its "walls of glass," with their enormously tall clerestory windows,
only accentuate its airiness and grace.
This last quality is remarkable in Gothic architecture of so early a
period, the thirteenth century. At St. Ouen at Rouen, to which its
openness may be compared, and perhaps to Gloucester in England, the work
is of a much later date.
The interior of St. Stephen's presents an equally marked effect of
height and brilliancy, with perhaps an exaggeration of the ample
clerestory at the expense of the triforium.
There is a remarkable symmetry in the nave and its aisles; and its
strong columns, with their shafting rising to the roof groins, show a
method of construction so daring that modern builders certainly would
not care to copy it.
The glass of the great clerestory windows in the choir dates only from
the sixteenth century, and was designed by one Bousch of Strasburg.
The windows of the north and south transepts are exceedingly brilliant
specimens of the mediæval glass-workers' art. There are some fragmentary
remains, in the clerestory of the nave, of glass of a much earlier
period than that in the choir, possibly contemporary with the fabric
itself (thirteenth century). If this is so, it is of the utmost value,
worthy to be admired with the gold and jewelled treasures of the
cathedral's sacristy.
In the sacristy there used to be the ring of Arnulphe and the mantle of
Charles the Great, but doubts have been cast upon the latter, and the
former has disappeared.
There is, somewhere about the precincts of the cathedral, a weird
effigy of a monster known as the _Grauly_, which, like the _Tarasque_ at
Tarascon and the dragon of St. Bertrand de Comminges, is a made-up,
theatrical property which even in its symbolism is ludicrous in its
false sentiment.
Besides Metz's cathedral, there is the church of St. Vincent on an
island in the river, which lacks orientation and faces almost due south.
It is as distinctly a German type of church as the cathedral is French;
but this is more as regards its outline than anything else, for its
Gothic is very, very good. Its interior is dignified, but graceful,
though it lacks a triforium.
St. Martin's is a smaller church, but is contemporary with St. Stephen's
and St. Vincent's (thirteenth century).
St. Maximin's is a still smaller edifice, and would be called Romanesque
if German did not suit it better. It resembles somewhat the parish
churches seen in the country-side in England, and is in no way
remarkable or highly interesting, if we except the tall central tower.
St. Eucharius's and St. Sagelone's complete the list of the unattached
churches of Metz; St. Clement's being but an attribute of the Jesuit
college.
St. Eucharius's stands near what we would call the German Gate,--locally
known as Deutsches Thor, or the Porte des Allemands,--a mediæval gateway
built into, or built around, rather, by the modern fortifications with
which the city is protected.
The church is most lofty for its size. Its pier arches are of great
proportions, and its clerestory, like St. Stephen's itself, is of more
than ordinarily ample dimensions. There is no triforium.
St. Sagelone's remains practically a pure Gothic example of its time,
rather later than the rest of its kind in Metz. It has some fine
coloured glass, in spite of the fact that its antiquity cannot be very
great.
St. Clement's is a dependency of the Jesuit installation, which reflects
more credit upon that order than has usually been accorded them in the
arts of church-building.
It is a more or less incongruous combination of the Italian and Gothic
styles, but blended with such a consummate skill that the effect can but
be admired.
In form St. Clement's is frankly a _Hallenkirche_, with the three naves
of equal height. In general the nave is late Gothic, with the marked
tracery of its time in its fenestration.
The capitals of the piers, supporting the arches between the nave and
its aisles, are stately but heavy, according to Gothic standards, and
appear misplaced, luxurious though they undeniably are. St. Clement's is
supposed to resemble the variety of Gothic which has been employed in
Sicily, where Gothic of the best was known, but was used in conjunction
with other details, which really added nothing to its value or beauty as
a distinct style.
One leaves Metz with the memory full of visions of many churches and
much soldiery of the conventional German type.
There is plenty, in all of these towns, to remind one of both France and
Germany. In the geography of other times, Metz was Lotharingian; but
French was very early the language of the city, and its prelates and
churchmen, when they did not use Latin, spoke only the French tongue,
and fell under French influences. Therefore it was but natural that the
type of Metz's principal church should have favoured the French style,
even though it developed German tendencies.
XI
SPEYER
When Christianity penetrated into the vast and populous provinces of
Germany, the Frankish kings favoured its progress and founded upon the
banks of the Rhine many religious establishments.
Dagobert I., King of Austrasia, built the first church at Speyer, upon
the ruins of a temple which the Romans had consecrated to Diana. When,
at the beginning of the eleventh century, this early structure fell in
ruins, thanks to the bounty of Conrad II., another of far greater and
more beautiful proportions was erected.
The idea of a new edifice was proposed to Walthour, then bishop, who,
like many of his fellow prelates of the time, was himself an architect
of no mean attainments. The difficult art of church-building had no
secrets from the bishop, and he set about the work forthwith, and with
ardour. He worked three years upon the plans, and on the 12th of July,
1030, in the presence of the vassals and seigneurs of the court, the
emperor laid the foundation-stone of the present cathedral, and declared
that the church should serve as the sepulchre of the princes of his
race. Twelve tombs were prepared beneath the choir, which itself is
known as "the Choir of the Kings," in the same way as the cathedral
itself has come to be known as the "Cathedral of the Emperors."
Eight emperors and three empresses have been placed within these tombs:
Conrad II., Henry III., Henry IV., Henry V., Philip of Suabia, Rudolph
of Hapsburg, Albert of Austria, Adolph of Nassau, the wife of Conrad
II., Bertha, the unfortunate companion of Henry IV., and Beatrice, the
wife of the great Barbarossa.
Above the tombs of the emperors one may read the following Latin
inscription:
"_Filius hic--Pater Hic--Avus Hic--Proavus
jacet istic--Hic proavi conjux--Hic Henrici Senioris._"
The cathedral of Speyer was far from being completed at this time, but
the new bishop, Siegfried, was a no less able architect than his
predecessor, and he directed the work with zeal and talent.
[Illustration]
Already the principal body of the church was rearing itself skyward, and
in 1060 the edifice was practically complete, after thirty years of
persevering effort.
It is a bizarre sort of a church as seen to-day, and must always have
had much the same character; still it is of a style which gave birth to
a new and distinct movement in cathedral building, and the authorities
have declared that the three edifices founded by the Emperor Conrad, the
cathedral of Speyer, the collegiate church of St. Guidon, and the
monastery of Limburg, were the foundations of a new school of
ecclesiastical architecture, and the envy of all the other provinces of
the Empire.
The cathedral was consecrated under Bishop Eginhard, and immediately all
church-building Europe went into raptures over it, its proportions and
dimensions, its fine plan, its six spires, and the magnificently
spacious arrangement of its transept and apside.
In 1159 the fabric suffered much from fire, but before a decade had
passed it was restored in such a manner that the church again stood
complete.
Another fire followed in 1189, and in 1450 yet another of still greater
extent, and only the holy vessels, the reliquaries, and the altar
ornaments were saved from the flames.
Bishop Reinhold, of Helmstadt, and the chapter, set about forthwith to
rebuild the cathedral, and, while its ashes were still smouldering,
they took a vow to make it more beautiful than before.
The bishop wrote a letter to Pope Boniface VIII., on the occasion of his
jubilee in the same year, and obtained a pontifical decree that all who
gave financial help toward the erection of the new cathedral should be
blessed with the same indulgence as those who visited the tombs of the
apostles at Rome.
The bishop lost no time, and his agents went forth into all Germany to
get funds to reërect the sepulchral church of the emperors. They were
received favourably, and twenty-one thousand golden florins furnished
Bishop Reinhold the means of carrying out his project.
After the wars of the sixteenth century, when Speyer was sacked,
pillaged, and burned, the sturdy walls of the cathedral again fell, and
only in the eighteenth century was it restored. For a long time, only
the choir was rebuilt, the nave being neglected up to 1772, when Bishop
August of Limburg undertook to restore the entire edifice, which,
considering that he did it in the eighteenth century, he did
comparatively well.
The choir and nave reflect, considerably, the spirit of the middle ages.
The façade alone indicates the false taste of the period in which it
was restored.
In general the exterior decoration is simple and remarkable for its
interest.
The interior was wisely restored in 1823, and shows a series of mural
decorations of more than usual excellence, and the statue of Rudolph of
Hapsburg, a modern work by a pupil of Thorwaldsen's, is less offensive
than might be supposed.
In Speyer's cathedral are an elaborate series of frescoes by
Schraudolph, forming a part of the extensive renovation undertaken by
Maximilian II. of Bavaria.
The cloister, built in 1437, exists no more. The baptistery is a curious
octagonal edifice ornamented with eight columns and surmounted by a
dome. It is lighted by eight narrow windows. The origin of the
baptistery is in dispute; but, while doubts are likely enough to be cast
upon the assertion, it is repeated here, on the strength of the opinion
of many authorities, that it may have descended from the time of
Dagobert.
There are numerous grotesque carvings, which ornament the cathedral in
its various parts, and which have ever been the despair of antiquarians
as to their meaning.
In one place on the exterior of the apside is a queerly represented
mêlée between gnomish figures of men and beasts with human heads. And
again, in the nave, there is a figure of a dwarf with a long beard, with
a sort of helmet on his head, and a sword at his side. If he is supposed
in any way to represent the Church militant, the symbolism is badly
expressed.
St. Bernard preached the Crusades here in the presence of Conrad III.,
of Hohenstaufen, who was so inspired by the enthusiasm of the holy man
that he took the cross himself.
It was in the cathedral of Speyer, too, that St. Bernard added to the
canticle of "_Salva Regina_" these words, "_O Clemens! O Pia! O Dulcis
Virgo Maria_," which have since been sung in all the Roman churches of
the universe.
An ancient legend recounts how one day St. Bernard had come late to the
church, when the statue of the Virgin cried out to him: "_O Bernharde,
cur tum tarde?_" and that the saint, with very little respect on this
occasion, replied: "_Mulier taceat in ecclesia_." "Since that time,"
says the legend, "the Madonna has never spoken."
XII
CARLSRUHE, DARMSTADT, AND WIESBADEN
_Carlsruhe_
Carlsruhe is modern, very modern, and is a favourite resting-place with
those who would study the language and customs of Germany. In fact,
there is not much else to attract one, except a certain conventional
society air, which seems to pervade all of its two score thousand
inhabitants.
The architectural treasures of the city mostly bear eighteenth-century
dates, from the great monumental gateway, by which one enters the city,
and on which one reads, "_Regnante Carolo Frederico, M.B., S.R.I.P.E._,"
to the Academy of Fine Arts, really the most beautiful structure of the
city, which dates only from 1845, though reproducing the Byzantine style
of the early ages.
The great palace designed by Weinbrunner branches out like the leaves of
a fan, and, if not the equal of Versailles or Fontainebleau, suggests
them not a little in general effect.
The two chief churches of Carlsruhe are in no way great ecclesiastical
edifices, or of any intrinsic artistic worth whatever. Both the
principal Protestant place of worship and the Catholic edifice are from
the designs of Weinbrunner, and are a confused mixture of pretty much
all the well recognized details of style, with no convincing features of
any. They are pretentious, gaudy, and quite out of keeping with
religious feeling.
The Catholic edifice is a poor, ungainly imitation of the Pantheon at
Rome, which reflects no dignity upon its author or the religion which it
houses.
The Protestant church has its façade ornamented with six Corinthian
columns--a weakly pseudo-classic style--which lead up to a tower which
would be suitable enough to a country-side German parish church, but
which, in a prosperous and gay little metropolis of pleasure, like
Carlsruhe, is unappropriate and unfeeling, particularly when one recalls
that it is a modern building which one contemplates. The window
openings, too, recall rather those of a dwelling-house than of a
religious edifice. So, when all is said and done, there is not much in
favour of Carlsruhe's churches.
One link binds Carlsruhe with the traditions of ecclesiastical art in
Germany, and that is a most acceptable statue of Ervin von Steinbach,
the master-builder of Strasburg's cathedral. It flanks the principal
portal of the Polytechnic School.
_Darmstadt_
Though more ancient than Carlsruhe, Darmstadt has a prosperous modern
appearance, and consequently lacks those lovable qualities of a
tumble-down mediæval town which usually surround architectural treasures
of the first rank.
The Stadthaus, or Hôtel de Ville, dates from the fifteenth century, and
the Palace from 1605 (in its reconstructed form); but there is nothing
of sufficient interest about the churches to warrant the devotee of
ecclesiastical architecture ever setting foot within their doors.
As delightful little cities, with tree-bordered promenades and a general
air of prosperity and modernity, Carlsruhe and Darmstadt are well
enough; but, as the setting for religious shrines, they are of no
importance.
Behind the Stadthaus, in the old town, will be found the Protestant
place of worship. It is in unconvincing Gothic, with nothing remarkable
about its constructive elements, and little or nothing with respect to
its details. One feature might perhaps arrest the attention. This is a
retable of the conventional orthodox form which occupies the usual
place--even in this Protestant church--at the end of the choir.
The Catholic church is situated on a great rectangular open place, known
as the Wilhelminen Platz. It is a recent construction, and accordingly
atrocious.
In form it is an enormous rotunda, one hundred and thirty-four feet in
circumference, lighted by a shaft in the centre of its immense cupola.
The porch by which one enters this rather pagan-looking structure is
simple, and by far the most gracious feature of the edifice. On the
frieze one reads, in great golden letters, the single word "Deo." In the
lunette which surmounts this porch is a sculptured figure of the Virgin
between two adoring angels, and on a marble tablet is engraved:
LUDOVICO
HASSIÆ ET AD RHENUM MAGNO DUCI
PATRI PATRIAE
The interior, more even than that of the church at Carlsruhe, is a weak
imitation of the Pantheon at Rome.
The great dome is upheld by twenty-eight enormous Corinthian columns,
but the walls are bare and without ornament of any sort.
The only accessory with any pretence at artistic expression is the
altar. It is either remarkably fine, or else it looks so in comparison
with its bare surroundings.
_Wiesbaden_
A conventional account of Wiesbaden would read something as follows:
"Wiesbaden, the capital of the Duchy of Nassau, is about an hour's drive
by road from Mayence and three from Frankfort. It lies in a valley,
encircled by low hills, behind which, on the north and northwest, rises
the range of the Taunus Mountains, whose dark foliage forms an agreeable
contrast to the brighter green of the meadows and the white buildings of
the town. Within the last few years several new streets have been
erected; the Wilhelmstrasse, fronting the promenades, would bear a
comparison with some of the finest streets in Europe."