CHAPTER VI

CHURCHES AND CATHEDRALS OF THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES

The study of mediæval architecture is one of the most fascinating of pursuits, but it is one beset with difficulties. The obscurity in which the origin of our great monuments is buried is profound and often impenetrable.

A fertile cause of error is the confusion which in many cases has arisen between the dates of foundation and of consecration. Very often a church was built and afterwards considerably modified, rather than actually reconstructed, on the same consecrated site.

Lightning was the most frequent cause of the destruction, total or partial, of mediæval churches. Striking the steeple, the tower, or the roof, it fired the timber superstructure of the nave. This in itself would not have been an irreparable disaster; but as the timbers gave way the calcined beams charred the piers, and so prepared the downfall of the whole building, which was then either restored or reconstructed in the fashion of the day. Hence, whether we base our deductions upon more or less trustworthy records or upon contemporary readings of existing data, the result is too often a confusion among vanished monuments, or a contradiction between the buildings as they now exist and the historic records which relate to them.

Nothing is easier for interested theorists than to post-or ante-date the structure of a building. They have nothing to fear from the testimony of writers, and, with very few exceptions, it is difficult to assign a precise date to the construction of great churches and cathedrals or to point with certainty to their architects. The obscurity of these great artists is perhaps to be accounted for by the fact that they were ecclesiastics. As such the honour of their achievements belonged not to the individual, but to the corporate body, the _order_ of which they were members, and members moreover who had, in most cases, taken the vow of humility.

Modern science, architectural and archæological, has failed to throw much positive light on this subject. It contents itself for the most part with ingenious hypotheses and learned deductions which leave us still in doubt as to precise dates. But we shall at least find some sort of foothold in a careful architectural survey of buildings themselves. This should be, of course, supplemented by study of historic records, and such a study will convince us that art in the Middle Ages, as in all epochs, obeyed the immutable laws of filiation and transformation. We shall follow the artist step by step, observing his research, his hesitation, his errors, and even his corrections.

These are trustworthy documents in which to study the origin of a building and to note its successive transformations, which latter were far more frequent than total reconstructions. For it was not until the beginning of the thirteenth century that great cathedral churches in any considerable numbers were conceived and continuously executed.[9]

[9] It is possible, if not easy, to trace the architectural development of the Middle Ages in a good many cathedrals and churches of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. We have, however, confined ourselves, for the purposes of our present synthesis, to the churches and cathedrals of the royal domain, and more especially of the Ile-de-France, not only because they served as models for the architects of their day, but because they illustrate in a remarkable degree the various transitions we desire to study.

The great abbey churches founded towards the close of the twelfth century in the royal domain, but continued and finished in the early years of the thirteenth, still preserved a more ancient tradition.

Laon, which is derived from Noyon and from the south transept of Soissons, consists of a nave with transepts, and of two-storied side aisles vaulted upon intersecting arches, above which, as at Soissons, rise flying buttresses, which meet the thrust of the main vault.

This arrangement of the side aisles proves the continuity of the Norman formulæ, just as the method of construction adopted in the main vault demonstrates the persistent influence of the dome.[10]

[10] See chap. i., "The Influence of the Cupola on Gothic Architecture."

The admirably constructed main vault is square on plan, each square containing two transverse compartments, after the Angevin method as derived from the Aquitainian dome. Here we find indications that, if the builders of the Church of Laon had fully assimilated this method, their minds were nevertheless not altogether at rest as to the functions of the flying buttress. This was, of course, essential to the piers which received the united thrust of both transverse and diagonal arches. But it was far from logical to reinforce the intermediate piers supporting nothing but the auxiliary transverse arches by abutments identical with those of the main piers.

The illogicality so striking at Laon is absent from Noyon. There, on the contrary, the architects--of the original construction--had emphasised the functions of the main piers by buttresses of greater projection and solidity than those accorded to the secondary piers.

Notre Dame de Paris was begun towards the close of the twelfth century, and finished, save for the chapels, in the first half of the thirteenth. As at Laon, the Norman tradition is observed in the arrangement of the upper galleries of the side aisles, while the influence of the dome is again to be traced in the sex-partite groining. The same illogical system of abutments obtains as at Laon.

This vast building, consisting of a nave and double side aisles of equal height sweeping round the semi-circular choir, seems to be one of the first five-aisled cathedrals; its grandiose arrangement, the boldness of its combinations, and the perfection of its detail mark the considerable progress made by the architects of the Ile-de-France.

The method of construction here adopted has a peculiar significance. The upper internal galleries, vaulted on diagonal arches, and raised considerably above the level of the second side aisle, the boldness of the flying buttress, which at one span embraces the two side aisles and forms the abutments of the main vault--alike prove that the architects of Notre Dame de Paris had adopted the newly discovered systems even to excess, and were applying them with unparalleled skill and ingenuity.

The Norman tradition which had obtained in the Ile-de-France passed away in the first years of the thirteenth century. At Châlons-sur-Marne the nave is flanked by two-storied side aisles. But the upper gallery, vaulted and greatly reduced in size, shows that the conventional arrangement was fast dying out.

The influence of the dome was longer lived, as is shown in the construction of vaults at this period. We may still trace it at Langres in the domed form of the vaults, which, in spite of their rectangular plan, seem to be a reduced copy of the Angevin naves.

The naves of Sens and of Bourges are also vaulted in square compartments. The thrust of the vaults is carried by the diagonal arches to each alternate pier, the intermediate one receiving only the auxiliary transverse arch already fully described. Yet here again the exterior flying buttresses are all of equal solidity in spite of the varying strain. This arrangement, prudent if illogical, shows once more with what distrust architects had adopted that system of exterior abutment, the characteristic of which is a detached arch exposed to all the vicissitudes of weather, and yet responsible for the stability of the whole edifice.

The Cathedral of Sens marks a new phase of development by its suppression of the upper gallery over the side aisles. These are now vaulted and covered by a lean-to roof; a flying buttress of single span receives the thrust of the main vault. The building is perfectly solid; its construction shows research, though it is as illogical as that of Laon or of Paris; for the exterior flying buttresses are all of equal strength, and so fail to proclaim their true functions, the interior thrusts varying considerably.

The arrangement at Bourges, which appears to have been mainly built, if not actually finished, in the first half of the thirteenth century, differs from that of Sens. The structure is one of five aisles, and in plan recalls Notre Dame de Paris, but the details are very dissimilar. The inner side aisles no longer support a gallery, nor are they of equal height with the outer aisles; they are raised so as to afford space for lighting (see Fig. 43). The main vault is sex-partite planned on squares; but the same illogicality exists here which we have already pointed out, and in connection with which we will risk appearing somewhat insistent, in the hope of directing special attention to it. It is more glaring here than elsewhere, the flying buttresses themselves being of exaggerated dimensions and of double span, embracing the two side aisles.

Both at Bourges and Sens the space between the summit of the archivolts and the bases of the upper windows, known as the frieze, or, in modern parlance, the triforium, becomes a purely decorative feature. It consists of a narrow arcaded corridor, occupying in the interior of the building that portion of the wall space which in the exterior has been appropriated by the lean-to roof of the side aisles. At Sens there is merely a single gallery; at Bourges it becomes double, through the stepped arrangement of the side aisles (see Fig. 43), a variation in which we may trace an ingenious blending of the systems of Anjou and Poitiers with those of the Ile-de-France.