|MOST travelers from Paris to Geneva will recall the brief stop of the
train at the station, and a glimpse perhaps of the gaunt gray towers
on the top of the great hill against the evening sky, looking much more
like a fortress than a cathedral from the viewpoint below.
Called the "Rock of Lâon," it was in ancient days the Celtic Laudunam,
and was known to the Romans as Lug-dunam Clavatum.
"Lâon is the very pride of that class of town which out of Gaulish hill
forts grew into Roman and Mediaeval cities. None stands so proudly on
its height; none has kept its ancient character so little changed to our
own day" (says Marshall). It was here that Louis, or Lodo-wig, who
was the famous son of Count Eudes, established an illustrious court,
presided over by the "brave" Duchess Gerberga, and here afterwards
Charles, their son, maintained a successfully defended siege against the
onslaught by Hugues Capet on this stronghold. The treachery of Asceline
the Bishop resulted in the capture of the town, and as a reward, Capet
made him "the second Ecclesiastical Peer of France."
Henceforth the city was famed as the seat of the Capetian dynasty,
whose bishops ruled it until it was captured by the Prussians in 1814,
when it served as the headquarters of Blucher, in his operations
against Napoleon I. After the Battle of Waterloo the French troops
attempted to reform their shattered lines under its walls.
Lâon was the birthplace of the mother of Charlemagne, Lothaire, Louis
IV, and Louis V.
Crowning royally the great hill which dominated the town and the plain,
the remarkable Cathedral of Notre Dame with its many beautiful towers
formed a picturesque feature that once seen could not be forgotten. One
can only compare it to the towers of Mont St. Michel of La Manche, with
its encircling battlemented walls, but Lâon in point of architecture was
infinitely the finer of the two.
It is said to have been the work of Bishop Gauthier II (de Montagne)
of the twelfth century, and built upon the site of a previous structure
which had been burnt during an uprising in the early part of that
century. Originally there were four great towers, one at each of the
angles. Of these two remained lacking the spires. The façade was most
remarkable for its extremely deep portals. The two towers, which were
square at the base, terminated in octagonal belfries, and the angle
buttresses supported light two-storied open-work turrets of most
graceful design.
The cathedral was remarkable for the square apse, and there was a
tall lanthorn tower in the center of the church, which had two windows
separated by buttresses.
In the "chevet" a rose window was placed above three long openings, over
which was a gallery between the turrets.
The pulpit was from the Abbey of Val-St.-Pierre.
From below, the cathedral, as I have already said, looked more like a
fortress surmounted by a great chateau. Strange celebrations, seemingly
lacking in religious character, were enacted in the cathedral,
particularly those celebrated during the month of December. "This, the
fête des Innocents, took place in the choir, when the children, wearing
strange costumes with copes occupied the high carved stalls and chanted
the £ offices' of the mass with every sort of buffoonery, to the great
delight of the people.
"Eight days after this comes the 'day of Fools,' during which the
chaplain and choristers meet to elect a 'pope,' who is styled the
Patriarch of Fools. Those who neglect to participate in this election
are expected to pay a fine. After a procession the Patriarch is offered
a repast of wine and bread with great solemnity, and he in turn gives
to each chorister a present of corn in payment. The whole troop wear the
most fantastic ornaments, and during the two following days the entire
cathedral is given over to their buffoonery. After many cavalcades
by the townspeople the fête terminates in a great procession of the
'rabardiaux.'" (Viollet le Duc.)
This celebration degenerated into a simple custom of the giving wreaths
of flowers following the celebration of mass on the Day of Epiphany.
It is strange that these towns, explored by the present writer, should
have been so neglected by the tourist. Of course, it is chiefly to the
artist that they seemed so quaint, entrancing and profitable. No such
exquisite arrangements of composition were found in other countries as
here in France, and really at the doorway of Paris. Of course now and
then there was trouble for me, because I made sketches of these charming
localities; and even as late as 1910, when the sketches reproduced in
this book were made, forty years after the Franco-Prussian War, when
there seemed to be no possible danger of war in France, I was many times
in danger of arrest for drawing a church or an old wall. Several times
my portfolio had been seized by officers at the frontier towns, and I
had been "detained" with more or less brusqueness until the superior
officer could be summoned, but I must say that these occasions usually
ended by profuse apologies on the part of M. le Commissaire, who
deplored the activity of his men and offered his cigarette case most
graciously, begging that I should forget the incident and wishing me
"good luck." But it is perhaps now unnecessary to warn the artist abroad
to keep away from fortifications, or to carry his passports with him.
Lâon to-day is hidden behind a heavy black curtain of smoke from the
great guns of the Germans. What has been the fate of that old gray town
is problematical. It is said that the Germans have shot away the two
great towers of the beloved old cathedral, and that the walls of the
picturesque plateau upon which it rested have been razed. Beyond this
nothing has been disclosed for the two years during which the invader
has occupied it. Northeast of the cathedral was the thirteenth century
Bishopric, used for a long time as the Hall of Justice. It was erected
by Bishop Garnier in 1242. It was a rather dismal looking structure, and
altogether lacking in architectural distinction. Whatever it may have
been in former days, I ventured to say as much to an advocate with whom
I chanced to converse at the table d'hôte, and I shall not soon forget
the reproof my criticism called down upon me. I learned thereafter
to govern my tongue, whatever my convictions. The Lâonaise bitterly
resented adverse criticism of any one of their beloved monuments.
Along the edge of the hill below there were unusually delightful
promenades, shaded here and there by thick heavy foliage, through which
charming vistas appeared.
The long street on the ridge of the embattlemented hill wound along most
delightfully, bringing the wanderer to the old church of St. Martin
at the edge of the town. This, it is said, was once the appanage of a
Premonstratensian Abbey of the twelfth century. It had two bays and
a transept, and six small chapels of unique character. According to
legend, the first bay was built to enclose the tomb of a Sire de Coucy,
its benefactor. This Sire de Coucy had been excommunicated by the
clergy, and being thus outside the pale of religion, he had been buried
without ceremony outside the west door. This caused such remonstrance
upon the part of the people, who loved him well for his great charities,
if not for his sins, that the clergy relented, and it was necessary to
enlarge the bay to accommodate his grave.
The twin towers from the last bay are of the thirteenth century. Near
the entrance were a number of tombs, some of them of remarkable richness
of design, notably that of Jeanne de Flandre, widow of Enguerrand IV,
Sire de Coucy, Abbess of Saviour-sous-Lâon in the fourteenth century,
and said to have been the work of the Flemish sculptor, Pierre de Puez.
If this work of art has been destroyed as reported, another unnecessary
crime is added to the list.
There was also the low relief figure of a knight in armor, evidently
of the greatest antiquity, although it was dated twelve hundred and
something, the first two figures being barely discernible.
The ancient suburb of Vaux has been under bombardment for more than
two years. Little is known to us of the extent of the damage it has
suffered, but I remember a lovely old church of the eleventh century,
with a most beautiful old choir of a little later period, where the old
priest, who was considerable of an antiquary, by the way, showed me a
fragment of tapestry, done in silk and wool, and of considerable value,
as a specimen of workmanship. He plainly was anxious that I should
admire it, and to oblige him I did so. He showed me also his books, some
with good bindings, others worn by use. He seemed an innocent sort of
man and lonely for companionship, telling me with simple dignity of his
daily life in the quiet parish and the details of his office.
The highest pay of a parish priest, he said, was fifteen hundred francs
a year ($300); the lowest, eight hundred, of course in addition to his
living quarters. He eked out his scanty income by the fees paid him at
weddings, christenings, and burials. When I told him of the sums paid
in America to ministers, his eyes bulged and his under lip bulged
comically. Then he wagged his head, lifted his arms, shoulders and
eyebrows, sighed heavily, and changed the subject.
Poor old fellow, I wonder what has become of him in these terrible days.
When I left him I gave him a pencil sketch of his church which I had
made, embowered in heavy trees, as a souvenir. I neglected to make
another, so I cannot picture it here, in this chapter, to my great
regret.