CHAPTER IV.

THE INTERIOR.--THE NAVE.

It is difficult accurately to state why a sense of disappointment is

so often felt on entering the Cathedral of Paris. The unsatisfactory

impression given by Notre Dame is one experienced by visitors of all

kinds. The architectural critic, who looks upon a Gothic church as

the result of certain clearly defined principles of construction and

decoration, must inevitably find in it much to admire. But while it

satisfies the specialist, and possibly impresses those who have little

pretence to technical information, it lacks the qualities of mystery

and of surprise which distinguish some buildings less ancient and less

stately. Thus we find one writer complaining that it is heavy, another

that it is cold, and a third that it is relatively unpicturesque.

Most of those who have recorded their dissatisfaction with the

interior of Notre Dame have sought to explain the causes thereof.

The splendid promise of the exterior, it is suggested, discounts the

remarkable beauties of the inside. Some feel that the regularity,

the coherence which distinguish the church, produce an _ensemble_ at

once ponderous and monotonous. Others complain of the lack of colour;

while on the other hand not a few protest against the intrusion of

recent polychromatic decorations. It is possible that the secret lies

in certain structural idiosyncrasies. The church is extremely broad

in comparison with its length. The bays are so few as to give to

the interior an air of undue severity. Fergusson, in his history of

architecture, condemns the vaulting ribs as ineffective. The marble

pavement is regarded on all hands as a misfortune: nothing could be

more tedious or inappropriate. It is, however, to be observed that as

one becomes familiar with the interior its shortcomings are forgotten

and the dignity of its proportions and details are apprehended more

fairly.

=Dimensions.=--The length of Notre Dame is 390 ft.; the width at

the transepts, 144 ft.; the length of the nave, 225 ft.; and the width

of the nave (without the aisles), 39 ft. The height of the vaulting is

102 ft. De Breul, in his _Théâtre des Antiquités de Paris_, mentions a

copper tablet which formerly hung against one of the pillars of Notre

Dame and gave the dimensions of the cathedral in the following verses:--

Si tu veux sçavoir comme est ample,

De Notre-Dame le grand temple,

Il y a, dans œuvre, pour le seur,

Dix et sept toises[10] de hauteur,

Sur la largeur de vingt-quatre,

Et soixante-cinq sans rebattre,

A de long aux tours haut montées

Trente-quatre sont comptées;

Le tout fondé sur pilotis,

Aussi vrai que je te le dis.

[Footnote 10: A “toise” is something over six feet.]

The curiosity of these lines excuses the inaccurate statements,

comparatively trifling, conveyed in them. Notre Dame, unlike most

mediæval churches on the Continent, is almost painfully clean. The

gaudy shrines which render some of the most splendid of Italian

churches almost grotesque are absent from Notre Dame. The broom and the

duster have been too freely used: all that is not appropriate has been

too sedulously banished.

In the old floor, amongst a multitude of other interesting memorials of

the dead, the tombstones of the following were to be found: Philippe

(son of Louis VI. and Archdeacon of Paris), _d._ 1161; Prince Geoffrey

of England, _d._ 1186; Queen Isabelle of Hainault, _d._ 1189; the

dauphin, Louis (son of Charles VI.), _d._ 1415; Louise (mother of

François I.), _d._ 1531; and Louis XIII. (his viscera only), 1643.

Amongst the more famous ecclesiastics were the following: Eudes de

Sully (1208); Etienne II. (1279); Cardinal Aymeric de Magnac (1348);

Bishop Pierre d’Orgemont (1409); and Dumoulin, Patriarch of Antioch

(1447). In addition there were three Archbishops of Paris who died

during the seventeenth century, and Renaud, Archbishop of Sens (_d._

1616). The substitution of squares of marble for the tombstones of

these historic personages admits of absolutely no defence.

Let us now consider the =Roof=. Mr. Charles Herbert Moore

thus describes it in his _Development and Character of Gothic

Architecture_:--

“Here is a vast nave (completed except the extreme west end by

about the year 1196), so admirably roofed with stone that the work

has lasted intact for seven hundred years, and will probably, if

not wantonly injured, last for centuries to come. These vaults are

sexpartite.... The diagonal ribs are round-arched, while the transverse

and longitudinal ribs are pointed. The intermediate transverse ribs

are, however, pointed but slightly; and to bring their crowns up to

the level of the intersections of the diagonals they are considerably

stilted. The crowns of the main transverse ribs are a little lower

than those of the diagonals, and those of the longitudinals are lower

still. The vaults have, therefore, a distinctly domical form. These

various adjustments, by greater or less pointing, stilting, and even

by the retention of the round arch where it will serve best, exhibit

the flexibility of the Gothic system in an interesting and instructive

manner.” Mr. Moore, after some further details, continues:--“In the

vaults of Paris, as in all Gothic vaults, the shells consist of

successive courses of masonry which are slightly arched from rib to rib

over each triangular cell. The beds of these successive courses are

not parallel, but are variously inclined according as the mason found

necessary or convenient in developing the concave and winding surfaces

engendered by the forms and positions of the ribs to which they had

to be accommodated. These courses of masonry have here in Paris, as

they have in most Gothic vaults, a considerable inclination near the

springing from the longitudinal rib upward toward the diagonal, and

they become gradually more level as they approach the crown of the

vault, where they are more nearly parallel. But perfectly parallel

they can hardly ever be, since each course forms a portion of a

surface that is concaved in all directions.” Mr. Moore adds that in

the earliest and finest Gothic vaultings this masonry is composed of

small stones perfectly faced and closely jointed; and the vaulting of

Paris, especially that of the choir, is a model of careful and finished

workmanship.

[Illustration: _Photo_] [_Ed. Hautecœur, Paris._

THE NAVE: SOUTH ARCADE.]

The vaulting of the choir differs from that of the nave, but the

difference is one rather of detail than of principle. We have already

said much about the external buttress system by which this splendid

roof is sustained. Internally this vaulting rises from slender

shafts springing from the capitals of the great cylindrical columns

constituting the main arcade of the ground story. The piers at Paris

are ill adjusted to the vaults, a feature which has resulted in an

immense amount of learned discussion. They were obviously intended

for quadripartite vaulting. It seems probable that suddenly, for

a reason which we are not now in a position to appreciate, the

quadripartite form was abandoned in favour of the sexpartite form

actually adopted. Students of this subject are advised to refer to pp.

114-15 of the second edition of Mr. Moore’s book, where the differences

between the vaulting imposts of the nave and choir are discussed and

delineated. They may profitably compare this with M. Viollet-le-Duc’s

_Construction_ (p. 164). M. Viollet-le-Duc, it may be added, suggests

that the necessities of the sexpartite system were provided for by the

monolithic shafts grouped round every other pier in the arcade dividing

the aisles.

[Illustration: CAPITAL IN THE NAVE.

_From Viollet-le-Duc._]

The somewhat heavy character of the great cylindrical piers which

divide the nave from the aisles is largely redeemed by the beautiful

carving with which the capitals are ornamented. The plants which the

sculptors have conventionalised are those commonly found in the fields

adjacent to Paris. These ornate capitals are genuinely Gothic in

feeling, and have nothing in common with those which crown the piers

of our Anglo-Norman (Romanesque) cathedrals. Again, the plinths of the

columns are utterly unlike the simple and massive bases on which the

round columns of our older churches most often rest. We have already

alluded to the ill-adaptation of these piers and their capitals to the

sexpartite form of vaulting employed. In the case of the most westerly

piers of the main arcade an attempt seems to have been made--with no

great success, as it appears to me--to minimise the illogical effect

of the vaulting imposts. The result has been the emphasis of that very

want of congruity which it was sought to remedy. It would be difficult

to find a less satisfactory arrangement than that which obtains in the

pier and capital delineated in our illustration, where four smaller

cylinders are attached to the main one. Here, not merely is the pier

itself rendered unwieldy by its satellites, but the capital loses

all symmetry owing to the interposition of the small capitals which

crown those satellites. It will be noticed that the arches of the main

arcade are by no means uniform. Thus we have a wide arch adjacent to an

extremely narrow one, while the builders of the period did not hesitate

to make use of a round arch where they found that form more convenient.

It is in some measure these peculiarities which have induced not a few

authors to describe Notre Dame as a transitional church.

In no part of Notre Dame do we more perfectly appreciate the grandeur

of the scale of the church than when we stand in the vast double aisles

on either side of the nave. With every step we take the view changes.

We hesitate to leave the spot upon which we stand lest we should lose

its charm, and yet we feel that probably a vista even more beautiful

awaits us a few paces beyond. The lines of vast piers seem as if they

were consciously engaged in surprising us: now they come together and

close the view suddenly, unexpectedly; then they open, revealing a

richly furnished altar in, as it were, a colossal frame of masonry.

Everywhere the lines of the building strike us as vast, massive, almost

elemental, but everywhere there is an ordered, if a somewhat ponderous

symmetry. It is strange that there ever was an age in which the innate

dignity and majesty of these lines were not felt. Yet so barbarous did

the architecture of Notre Dame appear to eighteenth-century eyes, that

a desperate attempt was made to hide it. Vast pictures in gilt frames

were placed from capital to capital of the main arcade on both sides.

In this way the arches were completely hidden, and a square appearance

(supposed to suggest the classical) was given to the lowest story. The

openings of the triforium were spared, as anything placed in front of

them would block the view of the crowds who used to fill the _tribunes_

on state occasions. The nave, however, thus turned into a kind of

picture gallery, was considered very satisfactory (see illustration,

p. 11). Needless to say, no trace of the pictures now remains, and

the great arches are free and open once more. The piers dividing the

aisles are not all of the same construction. Round every other pier

are grouped monolithic shafts, possessing delicately foliated capitals

with moulded abaci. Two shafts, with a single abacus and plinth,

alternate with a single shaft. In all there are twelve shafts round

the pier. These piers, with their cluster of satellites, contrast

finely with the simple cylinders with bold foliated capitals with which

they alternate, and lend variety and interest to the arcades (see

illustration, p. 23).

[Illustration: _Photo_] [_Ed. Hautecœur, Paris._

THE NAVE, NORTH ARCADE.]

The vaulting of the aisles is quadripartite, the ribs being strongly

marked and possessing carved bosses at the point of intersection.

Beyond the outer aisles on each side is a series of chapels, which will

be described presently. The accompanying illustrations give a good idea

of the piers, capitals and vaulting of this part of the church.

=The Triforium=, to which there are four staircases, is of immense

size, owing to the fact that it passes over the double aisles on

both sides of the nave. Its designers no doubt contemplated its use

as a gallery from which the grand ceremonies which took place in the

church could be witnessed by large numbers of people. It is ceiled

with stone--a feature common to most of the greater cathedrals of

France--so that no wooden beams can be seen anywhere in the building.

This obviously increases the massiveness of the whole, though a certain

tendency to heaviness is perhaps emphasised. The masonry is everywhere

very fine, and in the small details a high degree of wise as opposed to

futile finish is maintained throughout. The galleries are excellently

lighted. Above the nave-aisles low pointed arches enclose a foliated

circle, the corners at the base being filled with small trefoils. In

the choir the lights consist of rose or wheel windows, in the tracery

of which there is great variety of pattern. The openings towards

the church take their place admirably in the elevation, being in

character with the main arcade beneath and the clerestory above. They

are almost austerely simple, and possess none of the ornateness which

characterises the triforiums of Westminster, Lincoln, and other English

buildings of slightly later date. A large plain pointed arch encloses

two and in some cases three pointed arches, which are separated from

one another by delicate columns bearing foliated capitals with square

abaci. They have small square bases. These columns are a hundred and

four in number. A low openwork railing of iron fills in the front

of the gallery. The triforium goes round the whole building: that

portion which is at the end of the transepts, however, consists of a

narrow passage which is not open to the church. The banners which were

captured by French armies were exhibited from the triforium so long as

war continued. On the conclusion of peace, they were taken down--a

proceeding which might be followed in other countries with advantage.

The part of the triforium in the choir differs only in detail from

that in the nave. Over the triforium come the vast windows, altered in

the thirteenth century, which comprise the =Clerestory=, of which

more is said on page 72. The stained glass will be fully discussed

hereafter.

[Illustration: THE TRIFORIUM GALLERY, OR “TRIBUNES.”

(_From “Paris à travers les Ages.”_)]

The upper portion of the west end is filled by the great rose window,

which, as we have noticed, is so beautiful a feature of the façade.

The tops of the pipes of the great organ hide the lower part of it

from our view inside. The lovely painted glass, which is ancient, has

representations of the Virgin and Child surrounded by prophets. Amongst

other features are the signs of the Zodiac, the labours of the months,

and the Virtues in triumph with lances in their hands. The gallery on

which the organ is now placed was possibly used for the performance of

miracle plays. As it is at a relatively great height from the pavement,

this is at least doubtful. The =Organ= is a fine instrument of

wonderful power. It was practically rebuilt by Thierry Lesclope in

1730, and enlarged by Cliquot in 1785. In recent years it has been

immensely improved by M. Cavaillé-Coll, who gave it 5266 pipes and 80

stops. It plays a great part in the splendid musical services for which

the Cathedral is famous.

[Illustration: Exterior. Interior.

ELEVATIONS OF THE NAVE.

(_From Viollet-le-Duc._)]

The Nave is almost devoid of monuments; nothing breaks up the vast

lines of the architecture. The most important tomb is that of Jean

Etienne Yver, Canon of Paris and Rouen, who died in February 1467.

It has escaped serious mutilation, and is a realistic performance in

the style prevailing in France at the end of the fifteenth century.

On the base is a gruesome representation of the body of the Canon

being given over to the worms. Above this, two saints are helping him

to rise from the coffin, and directing his attention towards Heaven.

The whole thing is repulsive, but it is interesting as a curiosity.

Many historic memorials perished during the Revolution, but some were

removed to Versailles and still exist there. They include the tombs

of Jean Jouvenel des Ursins (_d._ 1431) and his wife Michelle de

Vitry; the Maréchal Albert de Gondi, Duc de Retz (_d._ 1602); and his

brother Pierre de Gondi, Bishop of Paris (_d._ 1616). Two monuments

have disappeared from the nave which were highly esteemed in their

day. Writing of Notre Dame in his _Crudities_ in 1611, Thomas Coryat

says: “I could see no notable matter in the cathedral church, saving

the statue of Saint Christopher on the right hand at the coming in of

the great gate, which is indeed very exquisitely done, all the rest

being but ordinary.” The statue so delighted the old traveller that

he had eyes for nothing else, for the architecture of Notre Dame is

anything but ordinary. The Chapter of the Cathedral did not share his

view, for they deliberately destroyed it in 1786. It was presented

to the church in 1413 by Antoine des Essarts, whose tomb with his

effigy in armour stood near it. Its destruction is remarkable, for

colossal things were very much to the taste of those who lived at the

end of the seventeenth century. The Revolution is responsible for the

destruction of a famous equestrian statue which stood in the nave

until 1792. It is generally considered to have been that of Philippe

le Bel, clothed in the armour in which he won his victory over the

Flemings at Mons-en-Pucelle in 1304. The identity of the statue has,

however, been the subject of controversy. Viollet-le-Duc tells us that

it represented, not Philippe le Bel, but Philippe VI. (of Valois), who

defeated the Flemings at Cassel in 1328. On his return to Paris he rode

into the cathedral on horseback in state, and vowed his harness to the

Virgin. The Chapter disagree with Viollet-le-Duc, who is, however,

supported in his contention by the Benedictine Père Montfaucon, by

the writers who continued the chronicle of William of Nangis, and

some others. The monument stood close to the last pillar on the right

side of the nave. The =Pulpit= is a modern work, after the design of

Viollet-le-Duc. It is of oak, and its decorations include statues of

six of the apostles and of angelic figures. Suspended from the vaulting

are eight imposing candelabra in bronze-gilt.

=The Chapels of the Nave= contain singularly few features of

historic interest, nor amongst the furniture of their altars are there

many recent works of art of outstanding merit. They introduce us,

however, to the vast scheme of mural painting which has been carried

out from the designs and partly under the direction of Viollet-le-Duc.

There can be no doubt that some scheme of polychromatic decoration was

legitimate: almost every ancient church in France has indisputable

evidence of its employment in the middle ages. The problem which faced

Viollet-le-Duc was one of extreme difficulty. The area to be covered

was enormous: the variations of light were excessive. Some parts were

luminous, even radiant; others were hidden in almost continuous gloom.

The schemes of colour had to be adapted to these varying conditions.

The use of mosaic was considered and discarded. The expense would have

been gigantic, and the material was considered, perhaps rightly,

to be inappropriate to the style of architecture. Wall pictures, as

such, were regarded as destructive to the _ensemble_, fatiguing to the

eyes and mind, and productive of a certain patchy effect. A series of

symbolical patterns of a rigidly conventional type, in which human

figures are very sparingly used, was devised. It may be admitted

at once that the learning and ingenuity displayed in the design of

the scheme were such as might be expected from the most erudite and

accomplished French architectural scholar of our time. The minute

consideration which Viollet-le-Duc devoted to the subject may be judged

from the following passage: “D’abord, la cathédrale de Paris, comme

on sait, est orientée de telle façon que tout un côté du monument se

présente vers le midi et l’autre vers le nord. Un de ces côtés reçoit

donc une lumière plus vive et plus colorée que l’autre. Il a paru

qu’il était nécessaire de profiter de cette disposition pour établir

l’harmonie générale. Au lieu de combattre l’effet de cette orientation,

on a cru devoir l’appuyer. Ainsi, en premier lieu, toutes les fenêtres

des chapelles tournées vers le sud sont garnies de grisailles à tons

nacrés et froids. De là il resulte qu’en entrant dans le monument on

voit un côté de lumière, un côté d’ombre, un côté chaud et brillant

et un côté froid. Il en résulte instinctivement pour l’œil un effet

général tranquille. Rien n’est plus fatigant pour les yeux qu’un

intérieur éclairé par les jours contraires de qualités semblables comme

intensité de lumière, valeur de tons et coloration. La peinture des

chapelles devait concorder naturellement avec le système de répartition

de la lumière. Suivant une règle générale, la tonalité des peintures

du côté nord est plus froide que celle du côté du midi. Cependant,

comme il faut conserver l’unité, de distance en distance, du côté sud,

des tons gris, des tons verts, froids, rappellent l’harmonie générale

du côté nord, et, du côté septentrional, des tons chauds rappellent

l’harmonie générale du côté méridional.”[11]

[Footnote 11: “Peintures Murales des Chapelles de Notre-Dame de Paris.”

Paris: A. Morel. See the preface by Viollet-le-Duc for further details

of his principles of decoration.]

In spite of all these elaborate precautions, in spite of so

much patience and learning, the result as a whole seems to me

unsatisfactory. One wearies of the ingenious geometrical curves, the

crosses, the squares, the lozenges, the coloured stars, the excessively

and laboriously conventionalised foliage, and the rest. The whole

strikes one as dead and mechanical, as mere covering of stone for the

sake of doing so. And the colour, though by no means aggressive, is

unsatisfying. The experiment was heroic, and the result might certainly

have been very much worse, but the stone-work would have been better

untouched.

The Chapels on the north side of the nave (from west to east) are: 1.

The _Chapelle des Fonts Baptismaux_. The bronze carving of the font is

by Brachelet. 2. The _Chapelle Saint-Charles_. There are a statue in

painted stone by M. de Chaume and a good piscina. The wall decorations

are cold and sombre. 3. The _Chapelle de la Sainte-Enfance_. It

contains a group representing Christ caressing a French and a Chinese

child, by M. de Chaume. 4. The _Chapelle Saint-Vincent-de-Paul_.

The decorations of this chapel are somewhat elaborate, and gilding

is freely used. 5. The _Chapelle de Saint-François-Xavier_. There

is a group representing the Saint baptising a Chinese. 6. _Chapelle

de Saint-Landry_, with statue by De Chaume. 7. _Chapelle de

Sainte-Clotilde_, with statue by the same artist.

The following are on the south side (west to east):

1. _Chapelle des Ames du Purgatoire._ Christ rescuing a soul from

Purgatory. A statue by De Chaume in coloured stone. The colour scheme

of the chapel is warm and brilliant. 2. _Chapelle de Sainte-Geneviève._

The decorations, which are somewhat profuse, were given by the

“dames de l’Institut de l’œuvre de Sainte Geneviève.” 3. _Chapelle

Saint-Joseph_, with statue of Joseph with the Child Jesus in his

arms. 4. _Chapelle Saint-Pierre._ Statue in wood of the saint by M.

Corbon. The carved woodwork of the sixteenth century still remains,

and includes panels with representations of the Twelve Apostles, St.

Germain, and Sainte Geneviève. 5. _Chapelle Saint-Anne._ 6. _Chapelle

du Sacré-Cœur._ Statue in coloured stone by M. de Chaume. 7. _Chapelle

de l’Annonciation._ With a statue of the Virgin in wood by M. Corbon.

Paintings by Perrodin, one of the best pupils of Flandrin, of David,

St. Michel, Isaiah, St. Anne, St. Joseph, St. John, St. Luke, St.

Augustine, St. Bernard, St. Dominic, and St. Bonaventure.

Before we turn from the nave to the choir and transepts, let us say

a few words as to the _stained glass_, which was once the glory of

the church. There is probably no Gothic interior in France which has

suffered more terribly from the destruction of its ancient windows than

Notre Dame. The coldness and severity which the mural decorations of

Viollet-le-Duc vainly strive to mitigate were perhaps not felt at all

when the light from every window seemed to be transmitted in glowing

and gleaming shafts of every conceivable colour and tone. Fortunately,

the old glass still remains in the great rose windows. That over the

west door has been described; the others will be noticed in the account

of the transepts. The rest of the glass was deliberately destroyed, not

by an infuriated mob, but by those in authority, in 1741.

The work of destruction was performed by Jean Leviel and his brother,

who cheerfully substituted for the priceless material they removed

great sheets of dull, monotonous _grisaille_, with borders ornamented

with the _fleur-de-lis_. The introduction of _grisaille_ has been

quaintly described by Michelet as _le protestantisme entrant dans

la peinture_. Its use at Notre Dame is nothing short of a disaster.

Efforts have been made in some parts of the building to replace it with

glass of a less sombre character, but these efforts so far have done

little to lessen our regret for the calamity of 1741.

[Illustration: _Photo_] [_Ed. Hautecœur, Paris._

ANGLE OF THE CHOIR AND SOUTH TRANSEPT.]

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