Part 8

Before starting out to visit the glass of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, there are several remarks to be made upon it as a whole. There is not nearly so much left for us to see as there is of the thirteenth century. It is not going to be so easy to reach it and we shall have to take longer trips. We may journey far off to the western corner of Brittany to see the admirable Cathedral of Quimper, or else down south near Angouleme where we find in the small village of Eymoutiers a most charming example. Of sixteenth century glass we shall find much; of thirteenth a great deal; but of fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, only a little. At first one undoubtedly prefers the windows of the thirteenth and the sixteenth centuries, but after one has studied glass for awhile, he will surely come to feel that there is a certain fascination about the silvery glow of a canopy window that is not surpassed by the jewelled glitter of the thirteenth century or the more brilliant colouring and drawing of the sixteenth. During the period now under discussion there was a great deal of good glass made, and from the records we learn of many a fine window now long since destroyed. A fair way to judge the French glass-makers is to learn what their contemporaries across the channel thought of them. For this purpose it is worth citing from the contract for glazing Beauchamp Chapel at Warwick, which contract was made by the Earl of Warwick's executors with a certain John Prudde of Westminster, dated 1447. This contract requires that no English glass be used, but that the windows be glazed "only with best foreign glass procurable and to use as little white, green and black glass as possible." John Prudde got his material from France. We find another apposite statement in Britton's History of Exeter Cathedral. He says that 500 square feet of glass was bought for the cathedral in 1302-4 and that when another large purchase was made in 1317 they sent to Rouen for it. From these citations, selected from many similar ones, we may safely gather that the English considered French glass the best, which is most significant when one reflects that just at that time English glass was at its highest point.

FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURY PILGRIMAGES

From the standpoint of one who finds himself in Paris, it is not going to be very convenient to visit the glass we are now considering. If he will content himself with a little, he can see that without much difficulty. He has but to visit the two nearby cities of Evreux and Rouen, each of them only an hour and a half by train from Paris and not far removed from each other. The latter is, admittedly, peculiarly a place to study sixteenth century glass--its numerous churches are full of it. While it is better to visit Rouen in connection with the sixteenth century, still we have mentioned it at this time because one of its churches, St. Ouen, affords such a beautifully complete exposition of fourteenth century glazing. Besides, it is near Evreux, and therefore we advise that it be visited now so that the glass at St. Ouen can be seen directly after that in the Cathedral of Evreux. If our reader wishes to thoroughly study the glass of this period, we would advise him to begin with a longer trip, which we will outline, and then conclude with Evreux and Rouen, because he will then be enabled, after seeing the fourteenth century glass of Rouen, to immediately pass on to the study of the sixteenth century windows which are so splendid and abundant in the other churches of that Mecca of the glass student.

Now for the longer tour just mentioned. It should begin at Bourges, four hours and a quarter from Paris by train. Thence we go south to Clermont-Ferrand (on our way stopping to visit its little neighbour, Riom), next across the mountains which overshadow these last two towns, to Eymoutiers, which lies close to Limoges, the next city in order. From Limoges we go north to Poitiers, then to Angers, to Le Mans, through Alencon to Sees, to Verneuil, and conclude with Chartres, an hour and a quarter from Paris by express. Although this is a long tour, we can safely promise that it will repay the pilgrim. If the pilgrim has already visited Chartres for its thirteenth century glass, he probably took occasion to see that of the fourteenth century in the church of St. Pierre. In that event he can omit Chartres at this time. If he wishes, he can go on from Verneuil to Evreux (43 kilometres), and thus link this longer trip to the shorter one already described. It is only in the event that he travels by automobile or bicycle that we suggest a stop at Moulins on his way from Bourges to Riom, for his way lies through it; but if he travels by train, then, because of the finer and more plentiful glass he is about to see, Moulins may well be omitted. We would not recommend visiting Limoges if it were not directly upon his road, no matter by what means of transportation he travels.

There is hardly a place in France where fifteenth century glass can be seen to greater advantage than in the Cathedral of Quimper, but it is too far from any other glass place to be combined therewith into a tour. It is tucked away in the northwestern part of France, eleven hours from Paris by express, and is only mentioned here so that if the traveller finds himself in its neighbourhood he may not fail to avail himself of the opportunity. The long tour beginning at Bourges and ending at Chartres, will, if supplemented by the short one to Evreux and Rouen, show him most of the best glass of this period which has come down to our time. It is easily distinguishable from that of the century preceding it as well as of the century following, and has a beauty all its own.

EVREUX

In one's mental picture of a town there is almost always a single feature which stands out prominently at the expense of the others. For example, winding crowded streets are apt to rise in one's mind when London is mentioned. The broad straight thoroughfares of St. Petersburg are sure to give roominess and breadth to our memory of the Russian capital. In a similar fashion when the writer thinks of Evreux there always promptly arises a picture of the narrowness which not only characterises the cathedral's nave, but also the little channels into which the river Iton subdivides itself in preparation for its leisurely meandering through the town. Nor must this be taken as a reproach to Evreux. The little branches of the Iton add very materially to the quiet beauty of the place. So, too, beauty is, though indirectly, lent to the cathedral's interior by the very narrowness of its nave. A nave only 21 feet wide made very difficult the problem of later joining to it a roomy choir, but the architect hit upon an ingenious device to secure greater width for the latter without having the difference unpleasant to the eye when viewed from other parts of the church. Just behind the columns at the edge of the transept crossing he deftly swelled out his choir walls at such an angle that from no part of the nave is the curving swelling of these walls visible.

The chapels that surround this graceful choir are separated from the ambulatory by light carved wooden screens, very dainty and each one different. The windows all about us reveal this to be a perfect treasure-house of fourteenth century glass, for it has more of this period than any other church in France except, perhaps, St. Ouen, at Rouen. In our preliminary talk about the fourteenth century we referred to the startling abruptness with which taste in glass veered around from the light-obscuring medallions of the preceding century to the light-admitting treatment of the fourteenth. We there stated that the two favourite methods of getting more light were, first, the canopy treatment, and second, but to a less extent, grisaille windows with rich borders which were sometimes, but not always, surcharged with coloured figures or panels. At Evreux we shall not only find many an excellent example of both these new methods, but also interesting proof of how early in the century the new style laid hold upon public taste and that, too, in a very fully developed and completed form. The windows given by Guillaume d'Harcourt, dated 1310, show us the canopy window with a perfection of architectural elaboration that is surprising when we consider its early date. Not only is the canopy well advanced in its detail, but we find that the blue background is damasked, a feature of adornment that elsewhere took some time to develop. The use of grisaille to increase the illumination of the interior is here amply illustrated, as is also a certain variation of it, very much in vogue at that time, partly because it was decorative, and partly, perhaps mostly, because it was so easy to glaze. This is the so-called "quarry window" of white or grisaille glass with its surface composed of either square (_carre_) or diamond-shaped panels. These quarry windows were not only easy to lead, but their formal design broke up the surface of the glass very agreeably, especially when here and there touches of colour were introduced. Nor were these quarries always used without colour decoration, for around the choir triforium we shall see them surcharged with gay heraldic blazons, while above, in the clerestory, they serve to fill out such portions of the embrasures as are not occupied by the bands of canopies. It was some time before the fourteenth century glazier arrived at the point of filling the entire embrasure with his canopy, and therefore this hesitating use of bands of canopies across a light field is often seen. Below in the choir chapels even less of the space is devoted to canopies and more to quarries or grisaille than in the clerestory. Passing to the nave, almost all the window surface of the chapels is given over to grisaille; indeed, it is only across the upper third that one sees the quaint little fourteenth century canopies. So, too, the clerestory is all grisaille except for an occasional panel in colour. The finest work of the period here is around the choir clerestory--the colours are richer and every part of the decoration more carefully studied. Notice that in the fourth on the left, the second lancet contains a kneeling figure holding up in his two hands a model of the window which he is offering; his name appears in large letters below--M. Raoul De Ferrieres. The rich red background, surrounded by the golden canopy, makes a very effective combination. This same pleasant conceit is found again in the most westerly lancet of the fourth choir chapel on the right, but here the figure is much smaller and the model of the gift window not so carefully drawn. Almost all these clerestory lights display facts concerning their donors set out in bold lettering that adds materially to the decorative effect. A few of the panels were glazed in the next century; they are readily picked out by the perfected drawing of their canopies, the fact that they completely fill the embrasures, the pedestals beneath them, etc. Of these later ones, the first on the left especially merits our attention: within its elaborate canopy framing are a triple tier of niches. In the middle tier, the second niche contains the Dauphin (later Louis XI) and the fourth, Charles VII, his father. This reference to the fifteenth century brings us to the consideration of its numerous examples found here, for the Lady Chapel, all the north transept and part of the southern are glazed in that later style. In the Lady Chapel the canopies enclose a double tier of niches which contain scenes remarkable for their strong colouring, as well as for the unusual number of individuals in each little group. Under the second canopy on the lower tier of the first window on the left is depicted Christ feeding the multitude, and no less than twenty-five figures can be counted: this is the greatest number the writer has ever observed in a canopy panel.

The transepts are most charming. Each is lighted by a large rose, while the east and west walls have each not only two great six-lancet windows, but in addition, the triforium gallery is pierced and is carried around under the rose. Where the triforium passes below the rose we have in each case eight lancets filled with canopies enclosing single figures, and in the clerestory of the north transept the same treatment--elsewhere the lancets contain grisaille or quarries surcharged with coloured bosses or shields--the whole bordered in colour. Throughout all this interior so much grisaille and quarry work was used that one should select a rainy or grey day for one's visit, because on a sunny day the illumination is distinctly garish.

Nor is it for the Cathedral alone that we have come here--so fine is the glazing at St. Taurin that we would have included Evreux in our tour even if there had been nothing to enjoy at the Cathedral. The east end of the choir juts out from the body of the church, and is lighted all round by seven lofty windows, each of two lancets except the westerly pair, which have four. The treatment of all these lancets is alike: the enframing canopy encloses three tiers of niches, one above the other, in each of which is a little scene in colour. One pair of these windows, the second from the west, are modern, but so faithfully are they modelled after their neighbours, that they do not mar the effect of the whole. Instead of one lone saint beneath each canopy (then so common as to be almost monotonous) we have here groups, always agreeable and sometimes amusing. For example, the lower left-hand corner of the window just left of the centre shows us St. Taurin rescuing a lady from some very pointed flames, while a red imp, evidently much annoyed at being exorcised, is darting off, much to the pious satisfaction of five smug onlookers. In accordance with the conventions, each niche has at the back a damasked curtain, above which a glimpse is afforded of an interior lighted by three windows, all very delicately portrayed. It seems ridiculously incongruous to find cows and other animals in the foreground of such a niche. Unfortunately, this absurd combination of tradition and realism was not rare during that epoch. The original glazing of the upper part of the southwesterly window has been replaced by a later Ascension scene, running across all four lancets. At the end of the south transept is a broad window, very interesting because of the different types of canopies in its six lancets. The chief charm of the interior is undoubtedly the choir, whose deliciously soft-toned glazing is so complete as to afford the student not only valuable material, but also (and this is much rarer) an excellent impression of the general effect sought for by the fifteenth century glazier.

ROUEN

In this sketch we will chiefly turn our attention to the church of St. Ouen, although we will also take a peep into the Cathedral and into St. Maclou. We will defer until our sixteenth century tours a fuller comment upon this city (see page 249), because any one who has studied the subject, even in the most cursory way, knows that he must go to Rouen for Renaissance glass. Although the splendid windows of its numerous churches bear witness to what that later period did for our art, it is nevertheless entirely proper that we should come here at this time, if only for a preliminary visit, because the study of fourteenth century glass cannot be satisfactorily concluded without viewing the splendidly complete exhibition of it in the church of St. Ouen. Here we shall see for ourselves why Rouen glass was then so highly esteemed, not only in France, but also across the Channel. We referred before to the fact that after Exeter Cathedral had in 1302-4 purchased glass for its windows and it became necessary in 1317 to procure another large quantity, it was to Rouen that they sent for it, a significant tribute to the skill and repute of the Rouen craftsmen. Ample witness to the causes for the Englishmen's admiration is afforded by the justly famous fourteenth century glazing of St. Ouen. It is best to approach and enter it by the south portal, for, although a very graceful and symmetrical Gothic edifice, the west front is unfortunately of a much later period than the rest of the structure, and is noticeably lacking in lightness and beauty. Notwithstanding nearly all the windows are glazed in colour, the brilliancy of the lighting strikes us as soon as we step inside and is especially noticeable if we have but freshly come from the inspection of interiors whose light has been dimmed by thirteenth century glass. It is evident that the St. Ouen windows were glazed at a moment when the reaction from the sombre beauties of the thirteenth century was at its height. Undoubtedly strict injunctions were laid upon the designer of the glass that he should so complete his task as to leave the church well lighted. In complying with his instructions he not only has used a great deal of white glass, but also has availed himself of the lighter tones of such colours as his pictures required. Nowhere else will we find so complete a series of patriarchs, saints, apostles, bishops and abbots. They are strung out around us on every side and provide a wealth of material for investigation. Perhaps one might wish that they had been depicted in stronger hues, especially as they range about the clerestory on a white background, with white glass in the triforium windows below them. On the other hand there is a possibility that if the colours had been stronger, the contrast between them and the background might have proved disagreeable. In passing it is interesting to note that all the abbots are arrayed in blue robes, but in accordance with the scheme of colour just mentioned, the blue is very light in tint. Below, in the choir, and around the transepts, we find canopy windows, but there, too, their effectiveness is lessened by too many panels of white. In the nave the large figures in the windows of the upper range have much more colour than those in the lower, and the inscription below each is in such bold lettering as to permit of each letter being separately leaded in. The north transept contains a fine rose window, but, unfortunately, in accordance with the conventions of that epoch, the figures radiate from the centre like slices in a pie. The result is a wheel effect and not that of a great blossoming rose. The glass, not only in this rose but also in the one of the south transept, is sixteenth century and will be described later. The regularity and completeness of the architecture of this church is accentuated by the long series of personages that decorate its windows. It is but natural that there results the symmetrical beauty which always follows the consistent carrying into effect of a well-thought-out plan. The desire of the architect for a well-lighted interior has also been everywhere carefully observed. As a whole, the effect of the windows must undoubtedly be admired, but on the other hand, if we were to be denied the warmth that a little additional colour would have given, we ought at least to have found as a compensation that soft silvery light which the best glass of this period affords, but which is here rendered impossible by the excessive use of white panes.

The Cathedral's fourteenth century glass, while not presenting the splendid ensemble that one sees at St. Ouen, is nevertheless not only instructive in its variety, but is also so placed as to exhibit itself to the greatest advantage. It is to be found in the Lady Chapel, the choir clerestory, the north transept, and the north nave aisle. The two large windows on each side of the Lady Chapel are so wide as to permit of four lancets in each. The treatment is the same throughout: a broad coloured border encloses a grisaille field, across the middle third of which is a coloured figure under a canopy, which of course has not yet acquired a pedestal. Evidence of careful attention to detail is seen in the borders, which are not only very elaborate, but are also enlivened in one case by a number of little green birds, in another by brown squirrels, and in a third by white angels playing musical instruments. This feature is but rarely met. The modern glass in the three easterly windows is rendered harmless by the height of the altar rising in front of them. Broad coloured borders are also found around the clerestory, but there each enclosed surface of grisaille has to rely for its adornment upon five round blue bosses surcharged with golden sunbursts. The three easternmost panels, however, bear large coloured figures, the central one being Christ on the Cross. The rose in the north transept is of the wheel type, and is too pale, because of the excessive use of colourless glass, especially in the radiating arms. At the end of each arm and also at other points are introduced medallions of mosaic pattern. The light is admitted in accordance with the conventions, but the contrast is too great between the plain and the mosaic panes. This same contrast is even more unpleasant in the chapel just at the junction of this transept and the choir ambulatory where a few mosaic medallions are frankly placed on a light field, without even the plausible excuse therefor which is afforded in the rose above by certain round apertures especially suited for medallions. The artist is evidently still groping for a satisfactory adjustment of his design and colour to the demand for light. This period is also exemplified, although in a different way, in the second, fifth, sixth and eighth windows in the north nave aisle. There, across the lower part of the light quarries in each of the four lancets, is placed a coloured figure behind whom hangs a curtain of contrasting colour, but entirely lacking canopy framing; each lancet is surrounded by a gay border. This treatment is not so pleasing as that just observed in the Lady Chapel, for the nave figures lack the finished appearance there lent by the canopy framing. The small curtain is better than no background at all, but we are still evidently in transition.

Of the fifteenth century glass in the cathedral, but little can be said; that in the south transept rose is good, while the chapel leading from that transept to the choir ambulatory contains two lofty-pinnacled canopy windows that would be excellent if they were not marred by their upper panes being filled in with disjointed fragments of thirteenth century medallions.

At St. Maclou (see page 251) ten out of the twelve windows in the semi-circle of four chapels at the east end of the choir contain a softly lovely set of fifteenth century canopies whose lofty and intricate pinnacles are delicately outlined against backgrounds of lilac, blue, green, etc., always in the lighter shades. The lower parts of these windows have not fared so well as the upper portions, but they have not been damaged enough to detract from the general effect. So light are most of the tones used, that one fears the ensemble will appear too pale when viewed from the proper distance; but such is not the case, thanks to the admirable harmony between the soft colours and the dainty canopies.