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INDEX 297 


THE purpose of this book is a very simple one. It 
is to provide an answer to the question, "Where does 
one find good stained glass in France, and how can 
it most conveniently be seen ?" All the books upon 
this subject are more or less technical and are in- 
tended rather for the student than the sightseer. Dur- 
ing the six years that the writer has been studying 
glass, he has so often been asked the above question, 
as to finally conclude that an answer in the form of 
a simple touring handbook might be of service. To 
that end he has put together notes taken on simdiy 
vacation trips. The reader should be indulgent, for 
the writer is not an authority on glass just a 
lawyer on a holiday. In addition to the purpose al- 
ready described, it is hoped that this little book may 
also serve to lure forth into the charming French 
country some who have hitherto neither heard nor 
cared much about glass, so that they may see the 
wonderful beauty that the stained-glass window can 
alone reveal, 


20, East 65th Street, New York ; 
Christmas, 1907. 


THE reason for the existence of a window is obvi- 
ous. When the dwelling ceased to be a cave and be- 
came a house, the need for a light aperture at once 
arose. Neither the house nor the window concern 
us until long after the house had been made thorough- 
ly habitable, and its windows after much evolution 
are finally filled with a sheet of translucent substance, 
which, while excluding the weather, would admit 
the light. Our interest does not begin until the wish 
to decorate the house naturally brought about a de- 
sire to decorate the window. We will pass over the 
story of the discovery of glass and its gradual im- 
provement; nor will wo pause to consider the very 
earliest examples now extant, nor examine the steps 
through which it must have passed to reach so ad- 
vanced a stage as we find in the twelfth century. This 
is a book to tell where to see windows, and therefore 
it imist not take up stained glass until a period is 
reached when examples are sufficiently numerous 
and beautiful to repay a visit to them. At what date 
then, shall we make our beginning? There is prac- 



tically nothing until we come to the charming re- 
mains of the twelfth century ; but because these lat- 
ter are very few and those few in churches which 
also contain glass of the next century, we shall com- 
mence with the heading of "Thirteenth Century and 
Earlier." That explains why we have selected this 
particular epoch as the starting point of our investi- 
gations. Our windows will themselves disclose to 
us that the Golden Age of French stained glass 
falls of itself into three subdivisions the first com- 
prising the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the sec- 
ond the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and the 
third the sixteenth century. Of the second subdivision 
we shall find but few examples, of the first more, 
and of the third most. 

No matter how far back we push our researches, 
s we are sure to be siirprised at the advanced state of 
the art represented by any window which attempts 
a picture. In fact, we shall happen upon no satis- 
factory traces of the evolution which must have led 
up to even the crudest and oldest story-window. We 
are forced, therefore, to conclude that this evolution 
must have occurred in another art, and the renult there 
evolved transferred into this one. This conclusion 
is much strengthened when we read that St. Sophia, 
built by Justinian during the sixth century in Con- 
stantinople, contained not only glass mosaics on the 
walls, but also in its windows. Here we have the 
key to the puzzle. The many artists who were then 


occupied in designing mosaics, worked out their pic- 
tures in little pieces of glass on the wall until they 
had developed along that line as far as possible. 
Then they doubtless bethought themselves that these 
glass mosaics would be even more effective if they 
could devise a means of illuminating their picture 
by letting the light shine through the colour. To ac- 
complish this they contrived to hold the morsels of 
glass securely in place, first by wooden or stucco 
frames, and later by long ribbons of lead having', 
channels on each side to retain the edges of the glass. 
This form of mosaic so held up to the light became 
a stained-glass window. Thus we easily understand 
that when the idea arrived of taking the mosaic pic- 
ture off the wall and putting it into the embrasure of 
the window, the art of making that picture out of 
bits of glass had already been fully developed. 

We shall avoid the technicalities of glass making, 
as they do not suit ot^r holiday mood. Nor is there 
good reason why we should discuss any use of glass 
save that which is required in the construction of 
our windows. Let us, however, in passing, refer to 
the very curious fact that a severe blow was dealt to 
all other sorts of glassware when the artists turned 
their attention to the making of windows. Glass- 
ware had constantly improved in design and colour 
up to the time (early in the twelfth century) when 
the great interest in windows sprang up. This new 
taste seemed to at once throw all other developments 



of this material into a comatose condition which 
lasted on through the five centuries composing the 
Golden Age of the window. This observation receives 
a peculiar confirmation when we notice that, at the 
end of the sixteenth century, stained glass suddenly 
lost its vogue at the same time that glassware sprang 
into renewed favour through the artistic skill and in- 
ventive genius of the Venetians. Indeed, the de- 
cadence of stained glass seemed to be the signal for 
the revival of hollow glassware. To revert for a 
moment to the time when window making caused a 
halt in the improvement of hollowware, it is inter- 
esting to note that glass making then left its former 
haunts and belook itself to the forests, whore it lurked 
until the stained-glass window having shot its bolt, 
hollowware again engaged the attention of the artists 
and was once more man.ufaet.ured nearer to the homes 
of its purchasers. During this period of partial 
seclusion the glass produced was of a peculiar quality 
called in English "forest glass" and in French "verre 
cle fougore" (referring to the wild fern or bracken 
which was burnt to provide the necessary alkali). 
The two names combine to explain to UN that wood 
and not coal was used by the glass-blower arid also 
that his alkali had to be gotten in an un annul way. 
The toughness of this "forest glass" was admirably 
suited to the requirements of the window-maker. 

As this book will bo confined to an examination 
of JFrench stained glass, it, is appropriate to cite 



Theophilus, who when in the twelfth century he wrote 
his celebrated Latin treatise on this general subject, 
stated that the art was a French one. This makes 
it all the more important that we trace its begin- 
nings in France, as well as inquire whence came 
the influence which so strongly marked them. 
This inquiry will reveal that it was to Byzantium 
that the early glaziers were indebted for their quaint 
style of drawing. In early glass we will observe the 
constrained, ungainly poses of the bodies, arms and 
legs, as well as the staring- eyed, ill-proportioned 
heads, not only in the medallion type of windows, 
but also in the larger figures glaring down from the 
clerestories. Very interesting conclusions may be 
reached if wo place side by side three figures, one 
taken from thirteenth century glass, another 
from a Limoges enamel made any time from 
the tenth to the thirteenth century ; and the third 
from the famous mosaics of St. Mark's in Venice. 
We have selected an enamel from Limoges because 
that was the only locality in which a continued as 
well as a renowned cult of enamelling existed in 
France during the centuries named, while the reason 
for choosing St. Mark's is that it is one of the finest 
extant examples of Byzantine art. Notice the same 
constraint in the drawing of all these three figures, 
the same awkward pulling of garment folds to 
delineate the form, and the same quaint morsel of 
conventional architecture about the top (which last, 



by the way, indicated that the personage below 
was a high dignitary of either church or state). The 
resemblance is too striking to be merely a coincidence, 
especially as each of these figures used in the com- 
parison is typical of hundreds of others. This very 
resemblance hints at its own explanation. The dates 
of the figures show the order in which these peculiari- 
ties of style must have been transmitted. The By- 
zantine mosaics of St. Mark's are much the oldest; 
then came the Limoges enamels, and lastly the 
stained glass windows. Thus we learn not only where 
our windows originated in Franco, but also whence 
came the designs that the Limoges enamellers taught 
the glazier. Abbe Texier, in hia f *Ewsai Tlistorique 
et Descriptif sur les Argentiors et les Emailleurs de 
Limoges 75 (1841), says that French stained glass be- 
gan in the neighbourhood of Limoges, whose highly 
vaunted school of enamellers were strongly influenced 
by the Byzantine typos of the Venetian school and 
that therefore it was but natural that the glass artist 
should also have yielded to the Byzantine influence. 
As showing how this influence reached Limoges, he 
states that in 979 a Venetian colony settled there for 
the purpose of trading in spices and other commodi- 
ties of the East, conveyed from Egypt by way of 
Marseilles. Winston says that tho Venetian Dogo 
Orseolo I came to sojourn, in France in 978 and that 
the erection of the Church of St. Front, Perigueux 



(near Limoges) 1 , is ascribed to him. James Fer- 
guson, in his Illustrated Handbook of Architecture, 
tells us that the Venetians (as the great carriers and 
merchants of the Levant) were in constant communi- 
cation with Byzantium. These facts provide a ready 
explanation of why these same pronounced Byzan- 
tine types can be remarked first in the mosaics of 
St. Mark's, next in the enamels of Limoges and last- 
ly on the stained glass windows of the thirteenth 
century. The older the glass, the more closely does 
the drawing follow these models; the attitudes are 
more constrained and awkward, and the folds of the 
garment are more tightly drawn around the figures, 
nor does the artist allow himself any freedom from 
ike traditions of that school. Later on the drawing 
becomes moi'e graceful and the lines are freer. Any- 
one who desires to go thoroughly into the technical 
side of this art will find a most exhaustive and 
scholarly book in Lewis F. Day's "Windows of 
Stained Glass" (1897). The best book in French is 
Oliver Merson's excellent "Vitraux" (1895). 

Let us now postpone any further consideration of 
the general subject until after we, with our own eyes, 
have seen enough windows to have collected material 
for discussion. This brings us to the selection, of 
towns, and the consideration of routes. 

We have referred to how naturally stained glass 
divides itself into three epochs, viz, : 



1. Thirteenth century and earlier. 

2. Fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. 

3. Sixteenth century. 

Visits to the glass of these epochs will be, for con- 
venience, subdivided into the following tours: 


fa) Bourges, Poitiers, Tours, Augers, Le Mans, 

(6) Auxorre, Sons, Troyes, Chalons, Hheims. 
(r) Soissons, Laon, St. Quontin, Amiens. 


(a} Evrcux, Iiouen. 

(Z>) Bourges, Moulina, liioni, Clerinont-'Ferrand, 
Eymoutiers, Limoges, Poitiers, Angers, Le Mans 
(Alen<jon), Sees, Verneuil, Chartres. 

Also separate visit to Quimper. 

EPOCH itr 

(a) VinceimcR, Sens, Troyes, Chalons. 

(6) Montfort TAmaury, Conches, Pont-Audemer, 
Caudebec, Koucn (G-rand Andely, Blbeuf, Pont tie 

(c) Ecouen, Montmorency. Chantilly (St Quen* 
tin), Beauvais. 

Also separate visits to Bourg, Auch and Cham- 



At the back of the book will be found a table show- 
ing distances by road, and also the usual index. 

It must be admitted that even in so delightful a 
country as France, one's wanderings gain an added 
zest if guided by a more definite purpose than is the 
slave of the red-backed Baedeker, intent upon ex- 
hausting the sights of every place visited. This ad- 
mitted, wo have then to consider not only the 
stranger on his first visit to France, but also 
the experienced traveller who already knows the 
beauties of its roads and the lazy charm of its his- 
toric towns. If our reader is of the latter sort he 
will especially hail some new quest as a reason for 
revisiting old scenes in search of charms heretofore 
unseen or unappreciated. It was especially him that 
the writer had in mind when putting together 
the rambling notes covering six years of glass 
study. He knows what varied forms of beauty await 
those who are sufficiently energetic to escape from 
the ultra-modern charms of Paris, that fascinator of 
foreigners. He knows the quaint villages, the perfect 
roads, the ancient castles, the magnificent cathedrals 
that are waiting to be explored. To him we will 
tell the story of a wonderful beauty where light lies 
imprisoned in colour a beauty which can be seen no- 
where so well as in France. What if you have al- 
ready visited every nook and corner of this pictur- 
esque land? Come out again with us and add an- 
other to the many reasons for your love of France. 



Take up the modern equivalent of the pilgrim's staff 
and shell and fare forth, being well assured that your 
eyes will be opened to the appreciation of something 
which, to be Ioved 3 has only to be wisely seen the 
window of stained glass. 



Window sur/ate broken up into medallions, each enclosing a httle cene. 
The black outturn of the picture are provided by the leaden strips w/uc/t hold 
together the pieces of flaw, Patnt z,i used only to mark the feature*,) fold* in 
thf garments , ett, Hen the lead Itnti ft w$t th? //c tit? e later they mat it 



BEFOEE spending any time in studying the sub- 
ject of stained glass windows, let us go and see some 
good ones. One of the safest ways to learn how to 
appreciate any art is to look at fine examples 
of it. Of stained glass this is particularly true, 
because no method of reproduction, even colour 
photography, can give any idea of the unique 
result there obtained by combining light with colour. 
'No flat tints can ever produce the effect of warmth 
and translucence that is yielded by colour illuminated 
through and through by the rays of the sun. We will 
assume that we are in Paris. Fortunately for our 
purpose there are easily accessible two splendid speci- 
mens of early glass, one the glazing of the Ste. 
Ohapelle and the other the rose windows high up in 
the^nestern facade and in the transept ends of the 
Cathedral of Notre Dame. The former is the most 
perfect instance of a thirteenth century chapel pre- 
serving intact its original glazing, while the rose in 
the northern transept of Notre Dame is probably the 
finest one of its period in the world. Thus we make 
an excellent beginning and our interest is at once 



stimulated to see more. Observe the difference in the 
placing of these windows, as well as in the points from 
which we view them, as it will prove peculiarly useful 
in disclosing how they should be set in order to best 
reveal their beauties. Every tourist that visits Paris 
goes, as a matter of course, to the Ste. Chapelle, 
that net of Gothic in which lies enmeshed such 
treasures of colour and light. This sparkling marvel 
lies modestly nestled among the law courts, whoso 
plainer modern buildings serve but to accentuate its 
wonderful beauty. We shall not be long in learning 
who was its founder, for the golden fleur de lis of 
France and castles of Castile strewed over its walls 
of glass mutely remind us that it was built by the 
good Louis IX and that with him was associated his 
mother, Queen Blanche of Castile. No king of 
France so ]ovcd and befriended our gentle, art an 
St. Louis. In many another French window this 
same combination of heraldic emblems will demon- 
strate how diligently these two royalties (or oilier^ 
in their honour) strove to introduce and spread the 
luminous beauty of this craft. This fragile chef 
d'ceuvre was constructed by order of its royal patron 
to provide a sanctuary worthy to contain the*, sacred 
relics acquired by him in the Eloly Land. No effort 
or expense was spared to fit it for its high purpose. 
By reason of its royal founder as well as of its ob- 
ject, we can, be sure that in the Sic. Chapello we have 
an example of the best taste of the thirteenth een- 



tury, St. Louis laid the first stone in 1245, and 
so expeditiously was the work carried on that it 
was finished and consecrated April 25, 1248, and we 
read that all its wealth of glass was installed before 
the consecration. 

Although we shall refrain from technical words 
as much as possible, we can see at a glance why these 
were called "medallion" windows. Each subject 
treated is enclosed in a narrow round framing of 
colour, thus breaking up the entire surface into 
medallions. It prevented confusion of subjects and 
at the same time gave a balance to their treatment. 

It is a good omen for the future of our com- 
bined sightseeing and study that we can begin with 
something so complete and charming as the perfect 
Stc. Chapelle. And yet, although it is glowingly, 
mystically lovoly with a beauty attributable chiefly to 
its glass, other thirteenth century churches will teach 
UK to notice that here it is the interior that is bene- 
fited and not the windows. So small is the edifice 
thai we cannot stand far enough away from the glass 
to let it develop the glittering glow that refraction of 
the rays of light lends to the glazing of the thirteenth 
century, but which no other period can show us. In 
order to fully realise what we have lost by being too 
near the windows, take the short stroll that brings 
yoxi to the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Enter its 
great gloom, go forward until you are opposite the 
rose window in the north transept, and look up. If 



you have in you any poetry, any sensuous sympathy 
with colour and light, you will receive an artistic 
thrill so strong as to at once elevate you to member- 
ship in our Brotherhood of. Glass Lovers. Our pil- 
grim staring up at the great rose window will note 
the splendid purplish glow that .comes from it. Now 
he will realise that he missed this gorgeous jewelled 
gleam at the Ste. Chapelle, and for the reason that 
he was too close to the glass. After he has grown ac- 
customed to this new feature, he will begin to notice 
some of the causes for it. The effect is undoubtedly 
glowing purple, and yet it is not produced by pur- 
ple glass. It results from the merging of the reds and 
blues, rendered possible, nay, assisted by the small- 
ness of the pieces of the glass, and this observation 
also explains why this same effect, wan not obtained 
in later periods when the glass fragments become cu> 
large that the colours remain distinct and do not 
run into each other. Because we are too near the 
Ste. Chapelle glass we remember it as rod and blue, 
but the memory of the Notre Dame windows, which 
can be viewed from a proper distance, is a splendid 

It is to be hoped that you have had tho good for- 
tune to first visit these two buildings on a rainy or 
grey day. That is the sort of weather for a glass 
pilgrim to be abroad and stirring, for his windows 
will be lighted to the same extent all around tho 
church. If it is a sunny day, the windows toward* 



the sim will seem thin in colour, whilst those on the 
shady side will be thick and flatly toned. He may 
assure himself that he is mistaken, and that the dif- 
ference in effect is caused by the strong glare of the 
sun on the one side, and on the other side the lack 
of it we repeat that he may assure himself of this, 
but he will get the wrong effect, notwithstanding. 
Make a mental note of this point and when you go 
glass hunting, jpin the farmers in praying for rain! 
We must seek elsewhere than in Paris to find what 
this mosaic of tiny morsels of different hued glass 
can accomplish in the small chapels surrounding the 
choir of a great cathedral. We shall learn what a 
glorifying curtain of subdued colour it will provide 
and how when viewed from the nave of the church 
these chapels become gleaming caverns, forming a 
semi-circular background for the well-lighted choir 
in their midst. Even whilst we are drinking in the 
great beauty of this splendidly impressive half -circle 
of chapels, we must realise that delightful as is this 
method of subduing and beautifying the light, it 
would be most unwise to use this same style of glass 
in the clerestory above. Not only would the choir 
be too dark, but, besides, we would lose the contrast 
of light against gloom that renders it so impres- 
aive in its dignity. This observation introduces 
another type of glazing for which we shall seek in 
vain after this century. If we demand more light 
from our clerestory and at the same time insist on 


coloured glass, then we must use fewer strips of 
light-obscuring lead, which means fewer and larger 
pieces of glass. Thus we will obtain more illumina- 
tion than is yielded by the heavily-leaded windows 
below. Now we begin to understand that the light 
of the medallion window is sombre because so much 
of its surface is occupied by the great quantity of 
lead required to bind together its small pieces of 
glass. These numerous lead lines serve a very artistic 
purpose, for, by breaking the refraction of the rays of 
light passing through 'the small bits of glass and dif- 
fusing them, they have much to do with blending the 
colours and producing the delightful jewelled effect; 
that we at once noticed in Notro Dame. We have 
purposely used the phrase "much to do," because it 
is only one of several causes. The quality of the glass 
itself had a great share in that result. It is quite 
different from that found later on, for it was, as yet, 
quite imperfect, and no two pieces had the same thick- 
ness or were surfaced alike. This very unevenncss 
assisted in breaking up the light rays. Another cause 
for its brilliancy was that its transl licence was not 
obsciired by paint. A piece of glass was yellow or blue 
because its colour was introduced while it wart being 1 
made in the pot and therefore was diffused through- 
out the mass. For this reason it was called "pot 
metal glass." We shall find that later on they dis- 
covered how to tint the surface of glass by 
the invention first of staining and later by onamel- 



ling, both of which had a marked effect and will be 
spoken of at the proper time. One of the results of 
colouring glass in the pot was that generally the tone 
would not be equal throughout ; for instance, a piece 
of blue glass would not be evenly blue in all its parts. 
This difference in the shading of each piece, as well 
as the unevenness of its surface, produced a brilliancy 
which the more perfect methods that came later could 
never hope to achieve. The freedom from surface 
paint made possible a limpidity of colour which by 
contrast makes later painted or enamelled windows 
seem almost dull. During the twelfth and thirteenth 
centuries the only paint used was a brown pigment, 
which served to delineate features and sometimes to 
accentuate the folds of garments, etc. We must also 
remember that, as the artist worked with small pieces 
of glass and therefore used a great many lead lines, 
all the outliues needed by his picture could be put in 
with leads, and hence it was only natural that he be- 
came very expert in drawing with them. The result 
of his skill in this particular is surprisingly attrac- 
tive and we shall sorely miss it later, when less and 
less attention was paid to the drawing and decorative 
value of the leads because of the increased desire for 
largo pieces of glass with pictures painted upon them. 
In fact, so far from early traditions did they of the 
sixteenth century stray, that we shall see strips of lead 
running right across an arm or a face ! Their value 
from an artistic standpoint seemed at that time nearly 



forgotten, and instead of being used to beautify the 
drawing, they were only tolerated as a part of the 
machinery necessary to support the glass in its frame- 
work. Before leaving the subject of paint upon 
glass, it is well to remark that although we may ad- 
mire the brilliancy of these early windows and may 
rejoice that the artist had not yet learned to obscure 
his colour, nevertheless, if we were examining win- 
dows in Italy, that land of everlasting sunshine, we 
might find a litlle painting upon the surface a genu- 
ine relief to the eye. There is such a thing as too 
much sunshine. Geography must be considered in 
criticising glass. 

5Ve promised to avoid as much as possible the 
study of tho technical, but it must be admitted that 
we have drifted into it, and that our attempt to loam 
why clerestory windows differ from the lower ones, 
has brought with it an exposition of tho technique 
of the thirteenth century. To briefly recapitulate, 
it consists of 

(a) Small pieces of glass. 

(&) Obviously requiring a great many lead lines 
to bind them together. 

(c) Glnss thnt is uneven in surface and in the dis- 
tribution of its colour. 

(d) Glass coloured throughout the mass (pot 
metal glass). 

(0) Glass that is practically unobpcured by paint. 
But let us get up to our clerestory windows* It 


has been instructive arriving there, but now let us 
see what had 1o be done to admit more light through 
the^e upper embrasures. In the first place it was 
clear that there had to be less leading, which meant 
larger pieces of glass. For this purpose there was 
devised a conventional style of decoration giving a 
most pleasing result. This consisted of a series of 
large figures of saints, kings, or other great person- 
ages. Unfortunately we cannot see this sort of clere- 
story window in Paris, but a visit to Bourges or 
Eheims or Chartres will soon convince you how 
splendidly they serve their purpose. At Notre Dame, 
in the choir clerestory, one sees only a poor imitation 
of the destroyed old windows; owing to the paint 
upon the glass, the yellows are dull and the reds are 
thick and muddy. 

When you have seen one of these rows of huge 
figures, the reason for the device becomes clear. The 
folds of garments of such size permitted the use of 
large sheets of glass, and as little lead and no paint 
were needed, the light was not obscured. The draw- 
ing of the folds, etc., was executed by the leads which, 
in any event, were required for structural reasons. 
So large are some of these figures that often we shall 
find that their eyes were not drawn with pigment, 
but were separately leaded in. This would not have 
been agreeable in the lower range of windows, but 
high up in the air, far above the observer's head, it 
produced the effect desired. ISTor was this the only 



trick indulged in by the artist. Sometimes he per- 
mitted himself very odd uses of colour. You will no- 
tice that during this century he generally employed 
brown glass instead of white for flesh tints. Of course 
he did not have what we call white glass that was a 
perfection not yet reached, but he might have used 
pink. No, he preferred brown; and when you have 
seen the glorious rows of clerestory figures looking 
down upon you at Eheims or Chartres,you will know 
that he was right. His colours were so rich and strong 
that white glass in the faces would have been too 
sharp a contrast and would have spoilt the harmony 
of tones. Nor was this the only strange choice of 
tints. You will be startled to read that blue is used 
for the hair of the Christ in a Crucifixion scene, and 
yet so cleverly was it worked in that many an ob- 
server of the splendid east window of Poitiers Cathe- 
dral has gone away without noticing that the hair is 
blue or that the cross is bright red! The effect of 
the picture was achieved, proof that the artist knew 

" and developed the possibilities existing in his mate- 
rials. That certainly always has been and always 

Vill be one of the great tests of artistic ability. 

While in Notre Dame notice another method of 
glazing prevalent in that century and which also 
had for its raison d'etre the need for light 
in the upper windows* This is what is called "gri- 
saille/ 7 a panel of greenish-grey glass, sometimes sur- 
rounded by a border of the samfc tone, sometimes by 



one of gayer tints, but always, during this period, a 
broad border. Back in the twelfth century, where 
we first find these windows, the borders are wider 
still. Their small pieces of glass are held together 
by leads arranged in conventional designs, often in 
what is called strap work, i.e., the seeming interlac- 
ing of straps in a sort of basket pattern, very sim- 
ple and agreeable. The light comes through in a 
cool, silvery tone which blends well with the stone 
structure about it. In Notre Dame we see ex- 
amples of these windows, some with grisaille bor- 
ders, and also a few with coloured ones, but on our 
travels we shall find much better types at Bourges, 
at Chalons-sur-Marne, and elsewhere. 

As a result of our sightseeing we will learn that 
the best of the early glaziers realised that to com- 
pensate for the dim light yielded by the medallion 
windows below, it was necessary to have better illumi- 
nation from above. Of course this combination in 
perfection was not often accomplished, but we gen- 
erally find that if the artist did not himself take 
care to admit sufficient light, somebody that came 
later corrected the error. Often we find that the 
monks, to obtain more light in the choir, removed 
the coloiircd panels and aiibstituted plain glass. In 
several instances, notably at Amiens, they attempted 
to sanctify their vandalism by destroying only so 
much stained glass in a window as to leave a large 
white cross upon it. When we come to the next cen- 



tury we shall see what this vandalism in favour of 
better-lighted church interiors is going to produce. 

For the sake of clearness let us review the steps 
by which we have reached our conclusions. First 
we saw that the thirteeenth century window has far 
more charm in its colour than in its drawing, which, 
although generally true of all glass, is never so em- 
phatically true as during this period. While ex- 
amining the colour composition, wo have learnt 
how a window is constructed, and that in turn has 
taught us why it is best to view it from a little dis- 
tance. The next stop was to conclude that therefore 
this style of glass was not well adapted to domestic 
architecture or for small buildings. Further, we 
have remarked the odd style of drawing then in vogue 
which, traced back, proves but one of the many im- 
prints which Byzantine art left upon those times. 

More time tniiht at this point be profitably de- 
voted to study, but this little volume is not intended 
for a text-book. Its chief object is to persuade you 
to go about France and soe for yourself its wonder- 
ful windows. It is to bo hoped that even this small 
amount of research will prove useful in increasing 
your enjoyment of the glass. Let us now consider how 
many and which towns we will visit, and also how wo 
can most satisfactorily group them together so as to 
provide convenient trips. 



glass we have seen in Paris gives but a hint 
of the richness of this period exemplified elsewhere 
in France. How much or how little we shall see de- 
pends upon the reader. If he has time or inclina- 
tion for but one example, he should visit Ohartres. 
In giving this advice we solemnly warn him that if 
he has even a faint idea of seeing more than one, 
then he should defer Chartros until the last. It so 
far surpasses the others that they must be seen before 
it or they will suffer by comparison. If the reader can 
only visit a few towns, then he will doubtless wish 
to consider what else they contain besides glass, as 
these other features may influence him in making his 
selection. For example, if he is interested in tapestry 
it is clear that he will prefer Rhoims and Angers to 
other churches equally important in their glass, but 
lacking such additional attractions. Then, too, near- 
ness to Paris may decide him in favour of one cathe- 
dral instead of another requiring a longer journey. 
With each of our towns we will mention any such 
extra inducement as tapestry, paintings, etc. At the 
back will be found a table of distances, ixot only from 



Paris, but also from each town to the next. If the 
reader has plenty of time, we suggest three pilgrim- 
ages. If his time is in any way limited, he can either 
take one or more of them, or else make such ad- 
justment of them as best suits his convenience. It 
must, of course, be understood that there is some 
thirteenth century glass which will not be visited 
by us, but any one who has followed these itine- 
raries will have seen all of the best. When we 
reflect how fragile is a glass window, it is really mar- 
vellous that we shall find so much of this easily de- 
stroyed beauty after the stress of centuries. Only a 
few churches can show anything like a complete 
series of windows, and fewer still a series all glazed 
during the same period. Ohartrcs, that treasure- 
house of glass, is the nearest approach to a perfectly 
complete example. Le Mans, perhaps, is next. 
Bourges is splendid in its thirteenth century glory, 
but there the hypercritical may find that the fifteenth 
century glazing of the nave chapels interferes with 
the earlier effect. The clerestory of Rhoims Cathe- 
dral boasts row on row of gorgeous kings and bish- 
ops, but there wo look in vain for the medallion win- 
dows to give us the usual glowing chapels below. 
These differences are not mentioned to criticise, but 
to point out that we shall find a variety and not a 
monotony of beauty. Now for the three itineraries : 
(a) Our first tour is the longest, starts at the point 
most distant from Paris, and then works back to that 



city. We begin at Bourges, 4J hours by railway, 
227 kilometres by road. From Bourges we go to 
Poitiers, then to Tours, to Angers, to Le Mans, and 
end at Chartres. Chartres is only 1J hours from 
Paris, 88 kilometres by road. 

(&) Before starting on the second tour we must 
consult time-tables in order to make connections for 
Auxerre, which is 35 minutes beyond La Eoche, a 
station on the main line to Lyons and the south. If 
wo could take a through train from Paris, the jour- 
ney would be under three hours. By automobile it is 
108 kilometres, leaving Paris by the road to Eon- 
tainebleau. From. Auxerre we come back to Sens, 
then to Troyes, to Ohalons-sur-Marne, and lastly 
to Rheims, two hours from Paris (145 kilometres). 
If the time or inclination of the pilgrim makes it ex- 
pedient that this trip be shortened, then, if he is a 
railway traveller, let him begin by Troyes and come 
around by Chalons and Rheims. If, on the other 
hand, he is travelling by automobile, he might as well 
see Sons junt before Troyes, because by road Sens 
is not much off the line from Paris to Troyes and is 
well worth that small detour. The railway journey, 
however, between Sens and Troyes is a tedious one 
of more than two hours, because it is a branch line 
where there are no expresses. 

(c) The last tour is most convenient to Paris, and 
although clearly secondary in importance as a glass 
pilgrimage, the scenery is so very attractive that it 


will particularly appeal to the automobilist and bicy- 
clist. We begin by visiting Soissons, an hour and 
a quarter by train (95 kilometres by road), then 
Laon, next St. Quentin and last Amiens, an hour 
and a quarter by train (131 kilometres) from Paris. 
If he is "en automobile," the pilgrim may return to 
Paris by way of Beauvais, for it is not much out of 
his way. If, however, he is travelling by railway, 
then he should omit Beauvais, for he will find only 
exasperatingly slow trains from Amiens to Beauvais. 
The thirteenth century glass there is unimportant, 
and, besides, we shall later visit it for that of the 
sixteenth century. 

If the reader intends to take all of these three 
tours he should begin with (c), then take (&), and 
lastly (a\ If he can take but two, then begin with 
(&) and end with (a). If there is time but for one, 
(a) is the best. The automobilist may unfold his 
maps and prepare a combination trip if he likes, for 
that is one of the licensed joys of automobiling. The 
old-fashioned traveller by railway will, however, find 
the order here set out the most convenient one. 

There is a splendid series of medallion windows 
around the choir chapels of the Cathedral of Cler- 
mont-Ferrand, but it is too far out of our way to be 
properly included in any of the above tours. Rouen, 
too, has fine medallion work of this period in its 
cathedral, but the later glass there is so much more 
interesting that we will not include it in these groups. 




Totttf, Angeri, Le Mmis, Chwtm 
, Chalom, Rfanus 

(For table of dftoi, w fage 295.) 


Both these towns will be visited later in their ap- 
propriate order, and we shall then have an oppor- 
tunity to enjoy their delightful thirteenth century 


THE writer will never forget his first impression of 
Bourges Cathedral, as, mounted on a bicycle, he ap- 
proached it over the rolling country that lies to the 
east towards Nevers. Eor a long time it seemed a 
great rock rising from the plain, which steadily grew 
larger and larger until, all at once, it took on the 
outlines of a huge cathedral. Fantastic as it may 
seem in the telling, this vast bulb looming up against 
the sky exactly symbolised for him the word "Bour- 
ges." To fully appreciate this great church one 
should approach it this way and let it grow before 
one's eyes. This is ti*ue of but few cathedrals, among 
which there is an easily recalled instance in England. 
N"o one ever realises all the soft grey beauty of Ely 
unless, thanks to his slow progress down the river 
Ouse, ho has seen it gradually arise from the green 
setting of fen lands. Perhaps one reason why Bourges, 
when viewed from a distance, docs not immediately 
disclose itself to be a cathedral is because one sees no 
perpendicular lines. On one sido the great tower so 
tapers as to seem to slant inward, while on the other 
side the flying buttresses present an oven greater 


divergence from the perpendicular. All this in- 
creases the rock-like appearance and defers the reali- 
sation that it is architecture and not nature until one 
is so near as to perceive some of the details. In one 
respect Bourgcs ia like the town of Amiens, in that 
nearly all its architectural beauty is centred in the 
cathedra] and seems to have been content to bourgeon 
and blossom there. Bourges has, however, one ad- 
vantage in possessing a wonderful "house that Jack 
built," the fifteenth century palace of Jacques Ooeur, 
a rich merchant and banker whose wealth was the 
cause of his final overthrow and banishment on a 
trumped-up charge of debasing the coinage. Even 
the fact that he had lent money freely to Charles 
VII did not save him. Later on (page 151) we shall 
consider the cathedral's fifteenth century glass, and 
we shall then examine the splendid window given by 
Jacques Coour, perhaps the finest that period can 
show. Chief among the charms of the cathedral's 
exterior are the splendid five-portalled west front, 
and the lace-like garment of flying buttresses that 
gracefully hangs about i1s sides and east end. The 
groat apse is built upon the remains of the old Roman 
walls, which so elevates it above the neighbouring 
houses as to provide a clear view of the flying but- 
tresses. Unfortunately, the west front does not fare 
so well. There ia hardly a cathedral iix Europe so 
shut in on the west by adjoining buildings. They 
huddle so closely about it that one has no opportunity 



to stand off and properly observe the elaborate carv- 
ings and other architectural features that unite to 
mate the beauty of this famous facade. From the 
way in which each succeeding story decreases in 
size, if is easy to see why the big northern tower ap- 
peared to slant inward when viewed from a distance. 
Like ono o the cathedral towers at Rouen, it is 
named the Tour du Bern-re because it was built with 
money received from the sale of indulgences to eat 
butter during Lent. 

Most Americans have, during the day-dreams 
of their childhood, conjured up a mental picture 
of the vast interior of an ancient cathedral, 
and of tho mysteriously impressive gloom that 
would some day there meet their eyes. It is doubt- 
ful if any other church more completely realises this 
fancy of our childhood. As one enters the great 
building he receives an impression never to be for- 
gotten. A fooling of vastncss lays hold upon one 
even more strongly than at Beauvais and Amiens, 
both of which are actually loftier. Here tho seem- 
ing height is increased by the five rows of windows, 
one above the other. This addition to the usual allot- 
ment of three tiers (lower arches, triforium and clere- 
story) gives an unusual number of light apertures. 
While there are no transepts, their absence leaves un- 
broken the lines of the side walls and thus increases 
the apparent size of tho interior. And what a wealth 
of thirteenth century glass ! It gleams and glows and 


glistens on every side, near at hand and far off in the 
soft richness of the choir chapels. We find it every- 
where except in the nave chapels, which were glazed 
in the fifteenth century. Perhaps if it were not for 
the increased light which these later panels admit, 
we might find the church too much darkened by its 
sombre earlier glass. It is clear, however, that care 
was taken even from i,he first to sufficiently illumine 
the nave, because it possesses a fine series of thirteenth 
century grisaille windows, enriched and enlivened by 
broad borders of colour. Tho noble chapels that en- 
circle the choir show us the effect of mosaic medal- 
lions at their best. Above in the clerestory, "like 
watchmen on a leaguered wall," are stationed a glori- 
ous row of large figures which are not to be surpassed 
anywhere. The richness of their costumes, of the 
backgrounds, even of the borders, is most sumptuous. 
We have already noted the absence of the transepts. 
On our travels we shall notice that the north and 
south ends of transepts generally contain great rose 
windows. To compensate the glass artist for their 
absence here, the architect gave him an opportunity 
to glaze an elaborate series of forty-five small ones. 
They extend all around the interior, no two 
alike, and must be seen for one to appreciate how 
greatly they add to the interest and charm of the 
cathedral. It is contended by some that Bourges 
provides the finest field for the study of thirteenth 
century glass, but in this opinion we cannot agree, al- 



though gladly admitting everything else claimed for it 
by its staunohest adherents. Our reason forpreferring 
Chartres is that it has more windows, and that they 
are practically all of the same period, so that the 
eye does not there find the distraction caiised here by 
the fifteenth century glazing of the nave chapels. 
We prefer to rank the first four in the following order 
of excellence: Chartres, Bourges, Kheims, and Le 
Mans. It will be interesting to learn whether or not 
the reader agrees with us. At any rate he should see 
them, and now that we have enticed him so far away 
from Paris, he will find it as easy to return by the 
route that includes them as by any other. 



the many beauties of France must cer- 
tainly be accounted its "cities built upon a hill." 
There are a goodly number of them and their lofty 
position has tended to preserve them from change 
more than cities so placed that their expansion into 
suburbs was easier. Withoxit doubt there is some- 
thing fascinating, something irresistibly dominating 
about a town that looks down upon us. Fortunate it 
is for us lovers of the picturesque, whom, alas, the 
uses of modern convenience have made "dwellers in 
the plain," that during mediaaval times the vital need 
of safety forced its citizens to seek the refuge of 
heights! 3STo one can question the right of quaint 
old Poitiers to be as haughty as hill towns have al- 
ways been nay, haughtier. Think of the days when 
through the House of Plantagenet she gave rulers fco 
England when these same kings governed not only 
England but also the whole western half of France ! 
We do not always remember what a long strip of 
territory was ruled by the Angevin dynasty, stretch- 
ing all the way from the Pyrenees across the Channel 
and up to Scotland. One of the greatest encounters 


that marked the long and bitter struggle between the 
English and French was the Battle of Poitiers, when 
in 1356 the English under the Black Prince defeated 
and took prisoner John the Good of France and 
slew 11,000 Frenchmen. It was, indeed, a bloody 
baptism \\iion our hill town btood sponsor to such a 
conflict of warring nations. 

There are few cities in France which more richly 
repay a visit than this rather out-of-the-way place, and 
fewer still which have so many varied inducements 
to offer. The architectural remains are not only in- 
teresting but differ materially in character and epoch. 
The situation of the city is most striking. It is 
perched on the top of a flat-iron shaped hill upon the 
point of which the picturesque Jardin cle Blossac 
smiles down upon the winding river Clain. It is 
not in this book that you should look for a descrip- 
tion of the wonderful triple interpenetrated chim- 
ney of the Palais de Justice, nor the fourth century 
church of St. Jean, nor the ivory-liko carvings on the 
facade of Notre Dame de la Garde. Hie thoe to a 
guide-book for these, and the like of them, and let 
us to our quest! In all glass of this period, nay, of 
any period or any century, we shall never find a more 
splendid window than the Crucifixion at the east end 
of the cathedral. In our introduction we said that 
glass should not be studied from written description, 
but that it must be seen. Of this window this ob- 
servation is even more true than of any other. Its 



breadth and size indicate that it dates from early in 
the century. The harmony and the beauty of its 
colours are beyond words to describe. Indeed, so 
ingeniously are they combined to produce their effect, 
that the detail is apt to escape the observer. Even 
after spending some time before it he may be sur- 
prised to learn that the cross is ruby-red and that 
the hair of the Saviour is blue. If he had read 
this in a book it would have been impossible to con- 
vince him that the result could be one of such great 
beauty. Unfortunately for the many excellent 
medallion windows in this cathedral, there are also 
a great number of uncoloured ones. It does not take 
us long to decide that a medallion window should 
never be lighted from within, because that enables 
one to see the cumbersome machinery used to produce 
its effect. One should never become aware of the nu- 
merous small pieces of unevenly surfaced glass and 
the vast complexity of leads which in combination 
produce such glorioxis results, but only when the light 
comes from without. Not only do these white panes 
reveal these ugly details, but by their glare they 
effectually extinguish the warm glow which we are 
accustomed to expect from the richly-coloured mosaics 
of the medallions. Near the west end there is a good 
deal of fine strapwork grisaille evidently put there 
to light that end of the church in contrast to the 
dimmer light which must have prevailed at the east 
end when all the medallions were still in place. Even 



if there were not many fine thirteenth century panels 
in this cathedral, and even if the town itself were not 
full of many interesting sights, still we would have 
been amply repaid for our visit by the Crucifixion 
window, the chef d'omvre of its time. 

Near the cathedral is the church of St. Rade- 
gonde. This long narrow edifice has no transepts, 
nor, indeed, the usiial division into choir and nave, 
and yet it boasts of a rose window, and a fine one, 
too, over its northern portal. The colour is really de- 
lightful and contains much of the brilliant blue for 
which Poitiers is famous. Its chief interest is 
that instead of having its figures broken up 
so aa to monotonously radiate from the centre 
(which is generally true of rose windows) they 
are, so to speak, right side up, and all participate iu 
forming the picture of the "Last Judgment." There 
is some thirteenth century glass on the southern side 
of this church, but not so well preserved or so good. 
The windows on the northern side between the north 
portal and the east end are of the next century and 
will be considered later (page !7iJ). We may say,how- 
ever, in passing, that they are unique in that they 
have bright figures distributed upon a grisaille back- 
ground which is surrounded by a border of rich 


OF all the great battles which have marked the 
world's history there are few, if any, which so dis- 
tinctly stand out from the centuries as the Battle of 
Tours. It was this bloody victory which in ^32 rolled 
back the world-conquering Saracens and determined 
that Europe should be Christian and not Moslem. On 
that epoch-making day, the bloody axe of Charles 
Martel graved deep his name on the annals of France. 
But Tours has many another claim to historic re- 
nown. Touraine, the province of which it is the 
capital, is strewed with magnificent chateaux, whose 
very elaboration and beauty testify to how greatly 
French royalty and nobility loved its temperate cli- 
mate. On our way from Poitiers to Tours, we shall 
pass through several charming little valleys and find 
attractive, though qitiet, scenery, during most of the 
journey. The immediate surroundings of Tours are 
not pleasing. It impresses one as a dull, grey city 
seated demurely beside the sands that so ungracefully 
border most of the lower part of the river Loire. 
There is little to recall the echoes of the great battle 
and less still to remind one of the delightful 



mediaeval residences which are such an attractive 
feature throughout the rest of Touraine. 

Although the cathedral was under construction all 
the way from the twelfth century to the sixteenth, its 
various styles are so combined as to make it an in- 
teresting building. It does not, however, seem to 
merit the enthusiastic praise lavished upon it by 
TTenry IV and many another of its admirers. The 
chief objection to the interior is that it appears op- 
pressively narrow. The explanation of this cramped 
effect is that the architect did not avail himself of 
the usual device of slightly increasing its width as the 
walls rose. This was generally done elsewhere and 
served to correct the contracted appearance which per- 
spective tends to give as one looks up from the floor. 
This architectural trick is an old one, for we know 
that the Greeks used it not only in shaping the sides 
of their columns, but also to preserve the appearance 
of straightness in the chief horizontal lines of their 
buildings. In the absence of this device the walls 
seem to crowd together above us, thus accentuating 
the unpleasant narrowness of the nave. 

The fine rosaces in the ends of the transepts con- 
tain fourteenth century glass, and the western rose 
with its gallery of eight lancets below, excellent Re- 
naissance glazing. The chief glory of the interior, 
however, is the fine medallion panels all through the 
choir, not only in the chapels, but also, and most un- 



usually, in the fifteen large lights of the clerestory. 
These clerestory medallions date from the latter part 
of the century, and their lateness is evidenced in a 
number of ways, among others, by the fact that the 
medallions are oval instead of round and also that 
they extend to the edge of the embrasure, leaving lit- 
tle or no room for the border. This can also be ob- 
served in the easternmost choir windows of Ooutances 
Cathedral. We have noted before that the choir 
clerestory at this time was generally given over to 
large figures of kings, bishops, etc., in order to se- 
cure more light than medallions would admit. In the 
Tours clerestory the fifth window on the right and 
the fifth on the left (just above the great al- 
tar) show an attempt to correct the darkening 
effect of the medallions by alternating with them 
horizontal stripes of grisaille. Notice that in the 
easternmost embrasure the three medallions of the 
second tier, when considered together, form a pic- 
ture of The Last Supper. This is a more elaborate 
exposition of the same idea exemplified by the An- 
nunciation at the east end of the Clermont-Ferrand 
clerestory. A quaint touch is observable in the two 
medallions which show little figures of donors, each 
holding up in his two hands a model of his gift win- 
dow. One of these is in the left-hand lower corner of 
the window just left of the eastern one, and the other 
in the right-hand corner of the sixth on the 



right. Some of the Tours choir chapels are glazed 
in white, which combined with the pierced triforium, 
serves to correct the lack of light caused by the un- 
usual treatment of the clerestory. 


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A BAB name dies hard and often lingers years 
after it is no longer deserved. A striking example of 
this is found in the now unjust appellation, "Black 
Angers." Black it may have been in the days when 
its streets were dirty and narrow, but black it is no 
longer. Black it may have seemed to the towns- 
people when their humble dwellings were frowned 
down upon by the seventeen gloomy towers of its 
haughty thirteenth century castle. Now the towers 
of the castle are raxed, the walls that girdled the city 
are tumbled into the great moat to form broad boule- 
vards, and altogether it is as agreeable a place as 
Avas ever vilified by an outgrown name. Its most im- 
portant edifice, St. Maurice Cathedral, is not only 
a perfect treasure-house of glass, but is also the de- 
pository of a profusion of admirable tapestries. Those 
interested in the latter will find here (even more than 
at Rheims) what an added inducement they provide 
for the sightseer. All around the nave are suspended 
the series of the Apocalypse (as they are called), 
while on the walls of the transepts are yet others dat- 
ing from the fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries* 



Nor are these all, for packed away in chests are many 
more, which upon the occasion of certain church fes- 
tivals are brought out to hang in a row around the 
outside of the cathedral. In fact, it is only on these 
festival days that one learns that the interior wall 
space is insufficient to display half of the church's 
possessions. Having set out this additional reason 
for visiting St. Maurice Cathedral, let us now turn to 
its chief charm, the splendid twelfth and thirteenth 
century glazing. We shall find the nave windows 
filled with the largest and best preserved collection of 
twelfth century glass that exists. They are very wide 
and high, characteristic of that early period. In 
the choir there- arc fourteen excellent examples of 
the thirteenth century medallion type, and there are 
others in the transepts. We shall not now apeak of 
the two great fifteenth century rose windows, nor of 
the very large canopy ones which adorn the tran- 
septs, nor of tho few sixteenth century panels. It is 
proper to say hero, however, that they are excellent 
examples of those later periods, thus rendering this 
cathedral one of the best in which to compare glass 
styles all the way from the twelfth century to the 
sixteenth. The chief glory of the edifice, however, 
consists of those which date from the early mosaic 
period. So few and so unsatisfactory are the re- 
mains elsewhere found of twelfth century glass, 
and so excellent are they hero, that it is to this church 
that one should come to study it. It is a most fortu- 



nate coincidence for the student that the same in- 
terior also contains many of the best types of the 
thirteenth century, because this very contiguity en- 
ables him to conveniently contrast them with those 
of the twelfth. The finer distinctions between 
their traits are much more noticeable to him 
where the examples are side by side than they would 
be if he had to carry the picture in his mind from 
one place to another. He will at once notice that the 
earlier borders are much wider than the later ones; 
some of those in the nave occupy nearly one-fourth o 
the window space on each side, or in other words, if 
brought together, the borders would fill nearly half 
of the entire width of the embrasure. He will also 
observe that the figures in the earlier ones are made 
of larger pieces of glass and have the draperies more 
tightly drawn about them. It is very significant 
that the pieces of glass are larger in the earlier win- 
dows: note this carefully, because in many books 
we are told that the later artist of the thirteenth cen- 
tury had no choice but to content himself with the 
small morsels of glass, as he had no others. Thus they 
would have us believe that his wonderful jewelled 
glow was merely the lucky result of having noth- 
ing but small fragments at his disposal. Even so 
brief a study of twelfth century glass as to show that 
the pieces then used were uniformly larger than 
those of the thirteenth or jewel period, is enough to 
demonstrate that the later artist deliberately used the 



smaller bits even with the added trouble of more 
leading. He did so for the very purpose of obtain- 
ing the sparkle and sheen that was never achieved 
before nor since, and therefore he should receive due 
credit for his results. A close examination of both 
the choir and navewindows will yield us many quaint 
and interesting details. The first on the left con- 
tains a large Virgin placed upon a panel occupying 
all of the window that is not given over to a wide 
grisaille border. Six small medallions are arranged 
about this panel, half of each on the panel and half 
protruding over the border. One of these small 
medallions is placed at each corner and one in the 
middle of the two long sides, like tho pockets on a 
pool table. The charming elaboration and colour 
work of the twelfth century borders throughout the 
nave cannot fail to be noticed. 

The sot of thirteenth century windows placed 
about the choir have some gorgeous blues and 
brilliant rubies. The fifth, counting from the 
left side, proves to be a Tree of Jesse window, 
a sort of pictorially genealogical tree which we 
will frequently encounter on our travels. In this 
case the treatment is unusual, as the vine, winding 
up throughout the window from the loins of Jesse in 
the lowest medallion, not only distributes its his- 
torical personages over the central panes, but also up 
and down the borders as well. The very wide em- 



brasures of this church give us an excellent oppor- 
tunity of studying the colours of this period. 

While we are in Angers we must visit the church 
of St. Serge. As we are now seeking early glass the 
chief interest of this small interior consists of the 
five grisaille windows of the twelfth century which, 
with their graceful design of pale brownish strap- 
work picked out and accentuated by points of colour, 
leave little to be desired in their soft beauty. They 
are to be found in the choir, and are considered by 
most authorities to be the best type of twelfth century 
grisaille work that exists. During a later pilgrim- 
age we shall come again to this church to inspect the 
attractive fifteenth century canopy windows which 
decorate the nave clerestory (see page 


THE great personages in the windows of St. 
Julien Cathedral looked down upon a portentous 
spectacle on that day in the jear 1133, when Henry 
I of England stood holding in his arms his little 
grandson, Henry Plantagenet, to be baptised by the 
Bishop of Le Mans. The vast throng that gathered 
for this ceremony, both within and without the newly 
completed cathedral, little thoxight that the helpless 
babe would one day become not only Henry II, King 
of England, but also the ruler of the mighty Ange- 
vin empire, which included all of England and the 
western half of France. They could not have fore- 
seen that this little one would cause the House of 
Plantagenet to take its place in history as one of 
the greatest of royal houses. Strange sights have 
these splendid old windows gazed down upon, but 
ne^ver have they tempered the glare of the sun for 
'die christening of a babe who so widely outgrew the 
place of his birth. In one way or another this cathe- 
dral has been connected with many a royal family. 
In its archives we read that when in November, 
1217, it was decided to extend the choir over the 



Gallo-Eoman vail, not only was the consent of King 
Philip Augustus necessary, but also that of Queen 
Berengaria, the widow of Eichard Cceur de Lion. 
This double approval was needed, since Philip Au- 
gustus, although overlord, had given Le Mans to 
Queen Eerengaria in settlement of her claims upon 
certain JJorrnan towns which he had captured. 
Perched upon a hill rising from the river Sarthe the 
cathedral soars into the air from its lofty site as 
boldly as befits the chief sanctuary of an embattled 
city boasting of more than twenty sieges. Impres- 
sive as it is from the river, it is still more so from the 
little plain which lies ju?t below it inside the town. 
There is hardly a cathedral whose east end is so 
beautifully revealed as is St. Julien's from this view- 
point. We cannot help but be deeply impressed as 
it swings out clear against the sky, girdled by its 
thirteen chapels, hung about by its innumerable 
flying buttresses and to us rendered specially allur- 
ing by the great area of window space filled with 
the many lead lines and heavy iron saddle-bars which 
we have learnt to know mean glazing of the thir- 
teenth century. The view of the east end of an elabo- 
rate Gothic church is always fascinating, but in this 
instance its height above us, the great number of 
chapels and the unobstructed view make it unique. 
The nave was constructed too early to be greatly 
elaborated, but if compensation is needed, it is fully 
provided by the thoroughly mediaeval feeling which 



awaits one on entering the little square just before 
its west entrance. The opposite side of the square is 
occupied by Le Grabatoire, an ancient dwelling built 
in the first half of the sixteenth century and in an 
admirable state of preservation. The traveller in 
France generally finds that buildings which surround 
an old cathedral are so much more recent in construc- 
tion that they provide a jarring contrast. Here at 
Le Mans, on the contrary, its immediate surround- 
ings thoroughly imbue us with the spirit of the mid- 
dle ages and we are in a proper frame of mind to 
enter the portal and appreciate the Old World beauty 
inside. The interior amply fulfills the promises of 
the exterior. The luminous glory of the broad surf aces 
of the glass that seem suspended about the lofty choir 
is something long to be remembered. This is not the 
place to speak of the transepts because they were 
glazed in the fifteenth century; they are very fine, 
especially the one to the north. Oddly enough, the 
south end of the south transept has no window at 
all; its large wall space serves as a back for the 
organ (see page ITS). Let us begin our investigations 
with the nave. Its triforium is a graceful gallery, but 
is not pierced, while the clerestory above it contains 
only modern glass, and therefore they will not long 
detain us. In the west front is one broad window of 
the round arched Norman type, obviously of the 
period which we are now considering. Within a wide 
border are square panels representing scenes from 



the life of St. Julien, after whom the edifice is 
named. Although this window is very broad, even 
for its early type, it is nevertheless not large enough 
to appear alone in the great west wall, and as a result, 
it narrows the appearance of the nave. When we 
move up into the choir and look back, this effect 
becomes all the more noticeable, while the nave is 
even further dwarfed by the fact that the architect, 
taking advantage of the greater height of the tran- 
septs, placed a clerestory window just above the 
point where the ridge pole of the nave joins the cross- 
ing. Thus the lone west window and the clerestory 
opening just above the nave roof combine to lower 
and contract that oldest part of the church. But to 
return to the nave windows; all the lower range 
are small and all modern except eight, the three 
western ones on each side and those over the 
two smaller west entrances. Of these eight all but 
two are medallions. One of them (the third from 
the west on the north side) is of interest because it 
has a border consisting of four little panels on each 
side enclosing figures. This sort of border is ex- 
tremely rare, except in Tree of Jesse windows, where 
the personages are sometimes used in this way to 
help make up the border. An instance of this may 
be seen in the central panel of the second triforium 
window on the south side of the choir and it may 
also be noticed in the fifth window on the left in the 
east end of Angers Cathedral. We have just said that 



all but two of these lower nave lights are filled 
with medallions of these two (the second and third 
on the south side), one might write a book. The 
writer prefers the second window to any other in 
France. It was made some time between 1093 and 
1120 and represents the "Ascension. " As this book 
is not written to describe glass, but only to persuade 
the reader to view it, we will content ourselves by 
saying "go and see." The blue and the ruby back- 
grounds have a limpidity of colour that cannot be 
rivalled. Of the third window it is fair to say that 
some of the panes were brought from other embra- 
sures of this church. The upper panel, enclosing a bust 
of Christ, with the drapery of blue and a blue halo 
upon a background of ruby sprinkled with blue stars, 
is most delightful. These two are indeed treasures 
and are all that were left by the ravages of the great 
fire which in 1120 destroyed the earlier church. 
Passing from the nave to the choir we are at once 
struck by the grandiose effect there caused by the 
loftier sweep of its lines. The choir chapels have 
lost nearly all their original glazing, but fortunately 
that little gem, the Lady Chapel, still has all its 
eleven windows filled with medallions. These en- 
circling chapels not only give great width to the 
choir, but still further width is added by the fact 
that the ambulatory is double. The first triforium 
that goes around above us is not pierced, but just 



above it we find the spacious embrasures of the second 
triforium. These latter are the largest of their kind 
the writer has ever seen; in fact, they are large 
enough to be placed in the clerestory of most cathe- 
drals. Not satisfied with these, the architect has 
still further increased the lighting of the choir and 
given greater scope for the glazier by placing above 
this second triforium the lofty windows of the true 
clerestory, those toward the west of six lancets each, 
and those toward 'the east of two. All the panels of 
this great curtain of light are glazed in the mosaic 
style, but the pieces of glass used are noticeably 
larger than we have been accustomed to find in the 
medallion treatment. As a result, the amount of 
leading is reduced and a great deal more colour 
meets our eye, colour whose individual tones we can 
recognise, and not the sort, which, conflicting with 
other colour, produces a confused purple. At St. 
Julien Cathedral we get a richer tone from the 
medallions than we find anywhere else, but this gain 
in richness is partially offset by losing some of the 
sparkling gleam which would have resulted from 
smaller bits of glass set in more leads. Perhaps 
some of our readers will agree with Viollet-le-Duc 
and other great architects and writers, in regarding 
this chair a finer monument of the thirteenth century 
than that of Bourges or Chartres. If the nave of 
Le Mans Cathedral were as splendidly glazed as the 



other parts of that edifice, we might have to re 
consider our opinion that Chartres affords the best 
chance for the student of that early period to pursue 
his researches, 


ACROSS the rolling grain-covered plain of La 
Beauce winds a long depression worn by the river 
Enre. Along the side of this depression we find 
Chartres, sloping gently up from the little river that 
bathes its feet and proudly lifting into the air the 
grey and green bulk of its cathedral, culminating in 
the two finest spires in France. Its light stone and 
the softly-shaded tiles of the roof combine to give us 
a delicious impression of delicate greenish grey. 
This softness of tone outside gives no hint of the 
minster gloom within, athwart which shimmer the 
rich dark rays slanting through the jewelled win- 
dows. Nowhere can there be found such a contrast 
between the exterior and interior of a cathedral. 
This marked difference serves but to distinguish and 
accentuate the special charms of each, and together 
they make our memory of the cathedral a most 
precious possession of our mental picture gallery. 

As the pilgrim enters Charters Cathedral, there is 
an impressive moment at hand for him, for he is 
penetrating the Holy of Holies of stained glass. Not 
only is it the most delightful expression of the thir- 



teenth century, but also of any century, and we 
speak not only of France, but of all Europe. 

One is almost staggered by the wealth and pro- 
fusion of windows 174 and nearly all of the thir- 
teenth century. In the west front the use of slightly 
larger pieces and the wonderful limpidity confirms 
the fact that the lovely rose showing the Last Judg- 
ment, as well as its three attendant lancets below, 
are of the twelfth century; the rest of the interior 
was glazed in the next century, 

Notwithstanding all that has been written of this 
wonderful glass, more still remains hidden away in 
its pregnant mystery, that mystery that lays hold 
upon all who view it, be he poet, or unromantic fol- 
lower of one of the homely trades whose guilds have 
added so generously to the tale of windows. Nor 
have revelations of this mystery been made alike to 
all. What one man has spelt out from it may re- 
main incomprehensible to another. The obvious fact 
to one mind seems to another but a quaint conceit. 
Lasteyrie, when he told his story in 1841, felt that 
there was a marvellous symbolism about the change in 
the strength of the light, brighter as it approached the 
cross formed by the transepts and then growing 
darker as one withdrew further from that Christian 
emblem of spiritual illumination. To him this 
thought was full of great charm and some of us may 
agree in his poetic conception. Others may feel 
that the brilliancy of the remote west windows seems 


to refute rather than support his theory. It is cer- 
tain, however, that the revelation of harmony comes 
to us all alike. It is related that a certain lad 
thought himself listening to music from the glass 
itself when the organ commenced playing during the 
time he was gazing raptly up at one of the great rose 
windows. This harmony of colours, this melodious 
flowing of tone into tone, is a glimpse vouchsafed to 
us all into the solemn mystery that dwells within this 
enchanted bower of light. 
James Russell Lowell says: 

"I gaze round on the windows, pride of France! 
Each the bright gift of some mechanic guild, 
Who loved their city and thought gold well spent 
To make her beautiful with piety." 

If Rheims is to be known as the cathedral of kings, 
or Amiens characterised as the Bible in stone, then 
Chartres must be styled the chief sanctuary of the 
mediaeval guilds. We have spoken of the splendid 
array of royalties around the clerestory of Rheims, 
and how they and the many coronations of which 
they are reminiscent fully justify the proud title of 
' "Royal Rheims." Against this wealth of royal 
reminiscence Chartres can show but one coronation, 
that of Henry IV. So far was he from being dis- 
gruntled by the long siege necessitated by the stub- 
born defence of its burghers, that he elected to be 
crowned in their cathedral, partly, we feel sure, to 



show the approval of a warrior king for their fight- 
ing qualities. No, it is not a long array of kings that 
are set about to guard its windows and bear witness 
to their power and beneficence. At Chartres, more 
than anywhere in France, the Middle Ages seem to 
have bequeathed to us the great heartFea^ of , their 
middle classes. Here we see about us the "sturdy 
workers of the city, the guilds of its iiidustrious 
burghers. True, the great rose windows of the tran- - 
septs show ITS the royalty and chivalry of the king- 
dom, but somehow they seem decorative and noli 
dominating as they do at Eheims. Nor are our 
friends of the guilds here present by any man's let 
or by virtue of kingly condescension. At Laon there 
are statues of oxen in the cathedral towers, put there 
in kindly remembrance of their services in dragging 
up the great stones from the plain far below ; but at 
Chartres it is no kindly remembrance that has dis- 
posed about the nave and elsewhere the glass histories 
of guild upon guild. They are in the place because 
they are of the place, uor is there any attempt to dis- 
guise the homely occupations of the donors. In 
other towns we occasionally find a panel bearing a 
statement that it was presented by some company 
of craftsmen, but the subject is almost always a 
scriptural one and throws no light upon the work-a- 
day existence of the members. Here it is very differ- 
ent, for so proud were the honest workmen of the 
crafts which they plied, that they took infinite pains 



to have their windows set out scenes descriptive of the 
work and life of the association which gave it. The 
'history of the Chartres guilds is well worth delving 
into, and one finds a luminous index provided by the 
long series of panels around the lower part of the 
nave. The glass speaks eloquently of how well or- 
ganised and how rich were the middle classes of 
Chartres, and nowhere else can anything like so com- 
plete or interesting a set be seen. Goldsmiths, cob- 
blers, vintners, tanners, moneychangers so the list 
goes on until it swells into a total of nparly forty, 
and of each there is provided some little group de- 
picting the service performed for the community by 
that particular trade. Several of the guilds gave 
more than one window, nor are they confined to the 
nave aisles, some having strayed so far as the choir 
clerestory. But for all that the windows here speak 
more eloquently than elsewhere of the sturdy crafts- 
men, the bourgeoisie that formed the backbone of old 
France we must not forget that they also bear wit- 
ness to the gallantry and generosity of the knightly 
and titled classes. To glass lovers this cathedral has 
a peculiar interest in the fact that St. Louis was 
baptised- within, its walls. May we not be permitted 
the delusion that to the undeveloped faculties of the 
royal babe the wonderful harmony of these windows 
came as a lullaby, and that the echo of this lullaby 
finally grew into the great love for stained glass which 
he later developed ? Of this love we ha^ e found many; 



traces, all leading up to its ultimate expression in' 
the Ste. Chapelle of Paris. And where more appro- 
priately could a French king, who loved glass, have 
been christened? Where else would he have had 
about him on his beloved windows such an array of 
his subjects, representing not only the highest, but; 
also those of humbler rank, a bodyguard of four 
thousand figures of nobles, gentry, burghers and 
craftsmen? Nor arc these figures content but 
to decorate, for some of them by their grouping 
serve to narrate for as nearly forty legends, A splen- 
did proof of how much he loved this cathedral, so 
often revisited by him, is afforded by his splendid 
gift, the Rose of France, as they call the great win- 
dow in the north transept. Here are the familiar 
combination of the French fleur de lis and the castles 
of Castile showing that Louis and his mother, 
Blanche of Castile, joined in this royal gift. In 
splendid reds, lemon-yellows and browns it tells the 
story of the glorification of the Virgin, thus repeat- 
ing what we see in the carvings of the northern porch. 
The gorgeous five tall pointed windows below aid H 
to produce a glorious ensemble. Nor is it only in 
this quaiter that we see traces of the nobler classes,' 
for was not the south transept end decorated ' in 
similar wise with scenes showing the glorification of 
Christ, the gift of Dreux and Bretagne? Again 
we find the windows inside repeating what is shown 
by the carvings in the porch outside. The five tall 

72 ' 


No photograph can even hint at the wealth of deep, warm colour that filh 
these windows rhe early datt of those m the right foreground indicated by 
their broad borders Below the Rose, four of the lancets \how Evangelists 
borne on the shoulders of Prophets 


pointed lancets under this rose are especially note- 
worthy, for the two which, on either side, flank the 
middle one containing Christ are each filled with 
an Evangelist carried on the shoulders of a Prophet, 
a very physical way of depicting the power of 

This is not the place to tell of the wonderful carv- 
ings that abound within and without this great tem- 
ple, and are especially delightful around the stone 
screen that separates the choir from the ambulatory ; 
nor shall we take upon us to speak in detail of the 
subterranean chapel to the Virgin who bore a Child, 
the pagan legends concerning whom "the memory of 
man runneth not to the contrary." For us they are 
but accessories to the wonderful whole which pro- 
vides so magnificent a casket for the preservation and 
exposition of the most splendid heritage of windows 
that has come down to us. 

Although completely outclassed by the cathedral's 
greater glory, the glazing of the church of St. Pierre 
is not only pleasing to the eye, but also provides a 
very complete and well-preserved demonstration of 
how the transition was effected from the light- 
obstructing mosaic medallions to the overlighted in- 
teriors of the fourteenth century (see page 188). 


OUR memories of architecture are generally those 
of form and not of colour. To this rule there are, 
however, a few exceptions, and of these the cathedral 
of St. Etienne at Auxerre is one of the most note- 
worthy. One remembers it chiefly for its rich brown 
colour, partly due to the tint of the stone and partly 
to the terra-cotta tiles which cover its roof. The 
deeper hue of the tiles calls out all the warmth in 
the shading of the stone and they together make a 
mellow brown picture, especially attractive if seen 
for the first time in the tones which it. takes on 
towards twilight, when the low rays of the sun per- 
form for it the same service that they do for the in- 
terior of the Corpus Ghristi quadrangle at Oxford. 
Another cathedral whose colour lingers in our mem- 
ory is Chartres, where the dull green tiles of the 
roof tone into the greyish stone of the building, ac- 
centuating and enriching it, and leaving with us 
a distinct impression of a soft-hued grey church. 
A very picturesque city is Auxerre, sloping up 
from the river, with its three- chief churches rising 
watchfully above the monotonous level of the house- 


tops like huge rocks anchoring the city more firmly 
to its foundations. Not so bulkily impressive but 
equally noticeable is the quaint old bell tower, which r 
from its great height, rings out every now and again 
reminders of the flight of time. 

The proportions of the cathedral interior are very 
harmoniously adjusted. The noticeable features are 
that the ambulatory is lower than the nave, and that 
' the Lady Chapel at the east end is square instead of 
being rounded. In view of the geographical location 
of Auxerre one would expect to find glass of the more 
florid Burgundian type; but instead it is clearly of 
the Champagne school. There is a quantity of good 
sixteenth century glazing and we would especially 
call the visitor's attention to the fine blues, which he 
should not fail to notice. The windows we have 
come to see, however, are to be found in the chapels 
and the upper lights of the choir. Henri Villeneuve 
in 1220 caused to be placed^ in the choir clerestory 
the great row of fifteen, each consisting of two bays 
surmounted by a small rose. This arrangement is 
very graceful and gives an agreeable grouping. The 
colouring and drawing of the large figures with which 
they are filled testify to the good taste of their 
donor. Nor are the windows in the clerestory any 
more worthy of notice than the twenty-nine which we 
shall find below surrounding the choir and filling the 
choir chapels almost all complete and containing 
fine types of the medallion style. The three nearest 



the transepts on each side and one or two others are 
glazed in white, the result of well-meaning sacrilege 
on the part of the monks seeking to secure more 
light. Fortunately their hands were stayed, so that 
enough of the old panels are left to give us the 
jewelled gleam which we are seeking. There is an 
unique arrangement in some of the embrasures of 
Auxerre which we must Dot fail to note. It provides 
an early example of the use of grisaille to increase 
the illumination of the interior. In several instances 
the coloured figure or panel has two borders, the one 
next it being of grisaille and the outside one of rich 
colour. Possibly the contrast will strike us as being 
too marked. We shall find that in the next century 
this combination is carried to such an extreme as to 
become positively disagreeable, but here at Auxerre 
it is so skillfully employed that it is not at all un- 
pleasant. In any event, it is far better than white 
panes used for the same purpose. 


IN these days of telephones, telegrams, express 
trains, automobiles, newspapers and printed books, 
it is difficult for us to realise that in mediaeval times 
thought travelled but slowly, and that two cities a 
few leagues apart were much more widely separated 
than they would now be if divided by the ocean. To- 
day a piece of news, an invention, some new artistic 
method, is flashed around the world and at once 
meets the eye of millions of readers. All this 
excites no comment. When, however, we notice that 
in some medieval period a novelty in one country 
very shortly thereafter appeared and was used in a 
neighbouring one, we are forced to conclude that there 
must have been some very unusual occurrence to have 
so far set at naught the difficulty of news transmis- 
sion to which we have just referred. The history 
of the middle ages does not contain a stranger ex- 
ample of such a rapid spread of something novel than 
that presented by the story of how and of why Wil- 
liam of Sens (who, in building the Cathedral of Sens, 
constructed the first thoroughly Gothic church) came 
to have the honour of introducing Gothic architec- 



ture into England by a call to rebuild Canterbury 
Cathedral. It so happened that just as he was com- 
pleting his great work and disclosing to the world 
the new beauty of Gothic architecture, Pope Alex- 
ander III, exiled from Rome, took up his residence 
at Sens (September 30, 1163, till April 11, 1165). 
It is recorded that on the 19th of April, 1164, sur- 
rounded by a gorgeous array of cardinals and bish- 
ops gathered there in attendance upon the papal resi- 
dence, he consecrated the altar of the Holy Virgin in 
the cathedral then rapidly approaching completion. 
Where the Pope was, there also was the centre of the 
Christian world, and thither of course repaired the 
clergy from all parts of Europe. These distinguished 
pilgrims were witnesses of William's first bold at- 
tempt at the pointed arch, the chief characteristic 
of his great cathedral. To see was to admire. Its 
beauty was so striking that they could not fail to 
remember and recount it when they returned to their 
home towns, thus stimulating other architects to copy 
this new architecture. Never before nor since had a 
builder so well timed a gathering of admiring ec- 
clesiastics. Among those who came, and saw, and 
remembered, was Thomas a "Becket, Archbishop of 
Canterbury, himself an exile from his see. He dwelt 
four years at Sens (1166-70) and what he saw there 
impelled him to invite William of Sens in preference 
to all the English architects to rebuild the Cathedral 
of Canterbury. It would seem strange even now, 



and a thing worthy of comment, if a French archi- 
tect were chosen to construct an important English 
church, but how much more extraordinary was it 
that Thomas a Becket should have taken this step 
in 1174, after the disastrous fire which destroyed the 
earlier church on the site of the present Cathedral of 
Canterbury. William succeeded in completing the 
choir as it stands to-day, but it cost him his life, for 
as he was superintending the finishing touches of hivS 
great work, he fell from a high scaffold and received 
injuries from which he died- Through this intro- 
duction of the young French Gothic into England 
he exercised a noteworthy influence upon the begin- 
nings of ecclesiastical Gothic in that country. We 
have told this story here because we know the archi- 
tect and the glazier worked hand in hand. This as- 
sociation grows more interdependent as the Gothic 
blossoms into decoration and as more wall space is 
devoted to windows. It is fair to assume that the 
stained glass style then prevailing in France must 
have accompanied its sister, Gothic architecture, upon 
the latter's invasion of England, and an examination 
of the early medallions at Canterbury tends to con- 
firm this theory. Since a Becket was having the new 
Gothic of Sens copied, why not also its admirable 
glazing? In any event we know that French glass 
was well known and much admired by the English, 
and later we shall recount several instances of its 
being brought to glaze English churches, and even 



requirements made in English contracts that French 
and not domestic glass should be provided. While 
it is true that the early glass of Sens Cathedral is 
not so abundant as that of the sixteenth century, 
we have come here at this time because nothing finer 
is known than the few medallion windows which re- 
main to us along the north wall of the choir. 
They date from the end of the twelfth century and 
are large, strong in tone, and in excellent preserva- 
tion. The clerestory lights of the choir are filled 
with attractive examples of grisaille enlivened by 
large geometric figures in points of red, blue, etc. 
These designs are constructed with slender lines and 
without too much colour, so that plenty of soft silvery 
light is admitted to illuminate the choir below. So 
well lighted is it from the clerestory above that we 
are forced to conclude that all the chapel embrasures 
below must at one time have been filled with the 
gloom-producing medallions. It is unfortunate that 
the original set of medallions below is not complete, 
because if it were, we would now be able to see, 
thanks to the charming grisaille in the clerestory, a 
perfect combination of the well-lighted choir sur- 
rounded by the sombre gleam of its protecting 
chapels. Such a combination is rare. At Tours, at 
Troyes, even at Bourges, we find ourselves wishing 
that we had a little more light from above to set off 
by contrast the dark splendour of the jewelled cav- 
erns below. The clerestory at Sens shows us just the 



luminous effect which we have sought elsewhere, but, 
alas ! our coloured dusk below, which should go hand 
in hand with it, has been almost entirely dissipated. 
As a result we are left with an impression of too 
bright an interior. The minster gloom with all its 
dignity is gone ! We shall return later to Sens to see 
its splendid glass of the sixteenth century (see 
page 218). 



OF all the French schools of glass which at one 
time or another gained renown, none ever surpassed 
that of Champagne. IsTot onl^ do we know this from 
the pages of history, but it is easily proved by the in- 
numerable examples found in the many churches of 
Troyes, the ancient capital of that province. The 
fame of the glass artists of Champagne not only be- 
gan early bnt lasted long. In fact, in its capital, the 
perfected methods of the sixteenth century became 
so firmly established that their style and vigour lasted 
far over into the seventeenth century, which was not 
generally true elsewhere. Troyes has always enjoyed 
prominence and that, too, along different lines; "Troy 
weight" testifies to the wide fame of its jewellers. In 
our travels we shall observe that most towns have but 
one or two churches whose windows repay a visit. 
Troyes and Rouen are the marked exceptions to this 
rule, for in each we shall find many well worth exam- 
ining and a great wealth of glass. Then, too, both 
these cities provide facilities for studying the art 
from the earliest to the latest period of its golden age. 
We will postpone consideration of Rouen until wo 



take up the sixteenth century because its thirteenth 
century glass is unimportant. This is not true of 
Troyes, for if by some sudden calamity all its splen- 
did Renaissance windows were destroyed, we would 
still most heartily recommend that our pilgrim visit 
the city to see the early glass in the cathedral and in 
the fairy-like church of St. Urbain. These two build- 
ings alone provide the best of reasons for including 
Troyes in this tour. The story of the foundation of 
that architectural eggshell, St. Urbain, is very inter- 
esting. In 12G1 there became Pope a certain Jacques 
Pantaleon, a native of Troves. After his elevation 
to the pontificate he remembered his humble begin- 
nings, and so far from being ashamed that his father 
had been a small shopkeeper, he bought the ground 
whereon his father's shop had stood, as well as some 
of the neighbouring buildings, and erected, about 
1263, one of the most delightful and airy examples 
of fragile grace in all Gothic architecture. T^e 
walls seem literally to be constructed of glass, so 
slender are the stone uprights between the windows, 
and so wholly is this little church uplifted and up- 
held by the innumerable flying buttresses that stretch 
away from its roof and delicate sides like the sup- 
porting guy ropes of a tent. At the Ste. Ohapelle in 
Paris we noticed that although medallion panels 
give a splendid dark warmth, they do not admit light 
enough for a small structure. Perhaps in St. Urbain 
we shall feel there is too much light. The medallions 



of the period are there, but only in small numbers 
and imbedded in large fields of silvery grisaille. 
The lower half of the clerestory windows is in gri- 
saille and it is only in the upper half that we find 
coloured figures. While it is true that we lose the sil- 
very hue that simple grisaille generally yields, still, in 
exchange, we receive a low-toned glow that is delight- 
ful. The proportion of glass surface to wall space 
is here so great that if the grisaille had not been 
warmed by touches of colour, there would really have 
been a glare, though the embrasures contain no white 
glass. The more we study the subject the clearer it 
becomes that the glazier thoroughly understood and 
appreciated the possibilities of the medium in which 
he worked. 

As we pass from St. Urbain to the larger and more 
impressive Cathedral of St. Pierre, we shall notice 
that although the artist felt the necessity for the 
lighter treatment in the dainty chapel-like church, he 
found it more appropriate in the larger edifice to so 
glaze his windows as to fill the place with the more 
solemn and dignified light suited to its greater size. 
The choir of the cathedral provides an unusually 
complete and satisfying example of this period, not 
only in its girdle of chapels, but also above in the 
gorgeous row of thirteen clerestory windows from 
which ferocious-looking figures stare down upon us 
from glittering eyes leaded into Byzantine faces. 



Splendid as they are, we feel that a little more light 
should have been admitted, and this thought must 
also have struck the glazier, because he resorted to a 
trick in the choir chapels to better illumine the east- 
ern part of the structure. If you will step into one 
of these chapels you will find that in most of them 
he has substituted grisaille for the medallions in the 
lancet on either hand nearest the choir. When you 
stood in the choir ambulatory, this device escaped 
you because the arch which provides the entrance to 
the chapel conceals these two nearest lancets. The 
result of the trick is that two side-lights, properly 
softened by the grisaille, are thrown into the chapel. 
If white panes had been used, they would have il- 
luminated the inner side of the medallion panels, 
thus revealing their ugly machinery of leads, and, 
worse still, effectually destroying their power to 
transmit a combination, of colour and glow. Ample 
illumination has been furnished this cathedral by 
its pierced triforium and the great expanse of its 
clerestory, but, thanks to the remarkably warm tone 
of the glass, we do not find it anywhere overlighted. 
Even the later glass which adorns the nave and tran- 
septs and which we will discuss farther on, is so 
unusually strong in colour that we avoid that sharp- 
ness of contrast between thirteenth and fifteenth cen- 
tury work to be seen at Bourges. Decidedly, St. 
Pierre is one of the most beautiful interiors in 



Prance for the glass lover, and he should not fail to 
see what the best examples of the Champagne school 
has done for this church, the charm of which lays 
hold upon him directly he enters it (see page 222). 


CEBTATN- travellers and most tourists think they 
can, from studying maps and reading books, obtain 
a very fair impression of a town before they visit it, 
and that the chief result of their visit will be to fill 
in sundry local details. If people of that ilk desire 
to remain high in their own estimation, they had 
best omit Chalons from their travels. Let us assume 
that one of these aforesaid folk plans a visit to 
Chalons. He will probably begin by studying the 
map. which shows a city seemingly drawn out along 
both sides of a long, straight street. His practised 
mind will conclude this the proper method to enter 
the town and that he can easily find his way 
about. Step number two will be the consultation 
of histories. Here he will fall upon the account of 
the great Battle of Chalons, in which Attila, the 
"Scourge of God/' met in 451 his final check, the 
combined army of Eomans, Franks and Visigoths 
there putting a bloody end to his dream of an anti- 
Christian empire erected upon the crumbling re- 
mains of "the power that once was Home's." Anyone 
who has noticed how surprisingly few decisive vic- 



tories have been followed by widespread or lasting 
results must have remarked that the Battle of 
Chalons stands out prominently as an exception 
to this rule. So much for what the maps and 
the histories have disclosed to our experienced 
tourist. He is doomed to a bitter disappointment. 
To-day in this quiet little city of yellowish- 
grey houses he will find nothing reminiscent of 
that old-time victory. Not only will his dip 
into history thus prove to have been in vain, but 
what is more, the street plan has given him a very 
wrong idea of a really very pretty place. The writer 
himself well remembers how the map misled him. 
He remarked thereon the long straight street ; there- 
fore, on emerging from the railway station, he pro- 
ceeded up this tiresome thoroughfare, which he found 
equipped with the usual provincial tram-line, both 
trying to tie the older part of the town to the dis- 
tant railway station that bears its name. As a dis- 
appointment this first impression of Chalons was a 
pronounced success ! Don't fall into the same error. 
This was the wrong way to enter the town, but there 
is also a right way, especially for one who believes 
in first impressions. 

If you want to be in a mood to enjoy the glass, 
branch off to the right when you reach the canal 
(which is not far from the station), and you will 
come into a park called the Jard, one of the prettiest 
combinations of green trees and water to be found 



in any provincial French city. On a later visit the 
writer stumbled upon this park, with the result that 
instead of a mental picture of an ugly town built 
on both sides of an ugly street, he carried away 
pleasantly revised memories not only of the charming 
Jard, but also of several little water-courses meander- 
ing through the town, affording lovely vistas every 
now and again in most unexpected ways. It seems 
certain that these streams feel equally bitterly about 
the ugly street, because as soon as they come near 
it ? they promptly hide their heads and pass under it, 
carefully keeping out of sight in small tunnels. 
Wait until you see the street, and you won't blame 
the streams. Now that you have by means of the 
woody refreshment of the green Jard purified your 
perceptions from the taint of railway dirt, let us 
enter the cathedral. We shall find the glass more in- 
teresting and instructive than impressive, but to this 
general observation we must make an exception on 
behalf of the thirteenth century windows in the clere- 
story behind and above the altar; they undeniably 
leave little to be desired. The blue of their back- 
grounds combines excellently with the tones of the 
figures. In one of the panels which shows the Cruci- 
fixion, we can readily discern that the bars support- 
ing it at the back (called saddle bars) have been 
moved to one side so as not to interfere with the two 
figures on either side of the cross. This displace- 
ment of the saddle bars to leave undisturbed the 


drawing of an important personage was quite usual 
at that time. Later on the glazier seemed to have 
no objection to the intrusion of the iron bars, just 
as he grew to disregard the running of his leads 
across faces, arms. etc. This church also boasts of a 
fine rose window in the north transept, which is 
rendered even more effective by the gallery of lancets 
beneath it. The especial interest of the cathedral 
to a student of glass is undoubtedly its grisaille win- 
dows, some plain and some banded across by highly- 
coloured panels of the medallion type. This latter 
arrangement we find along the north wall of the nave, 
while those containing grisaille alone are in the tri- 
forium and clerestory. In the case of the banded 
ones we shall notice that it is only the middle third 
of each which has the highly-coloured panels, all the 
rest being grisaille, doubtless for the purpose of 
giving plenty of light to the nave. Although a most 
interesting arrangement, the effect is not that of 
great beauty. Some of the narrow triforium panels 
have a border of plain grisaille surrounding the cen- 
tral panel of colour work in which there are no fig- 
ures; this is quite unusual. A study of the use of 
colour with grisaille in that century is not complete 
without a visit to Chalons, but this having been said 
we must admit that notwithstanding the splendid 
panels in the choir clerestory and the fine rose win- 
dow in the north transept, there are several more in- 
spiring places for one wishing to learn how greatly 



thirteenth century glass can beautify a religious in- 
terior. Some of the finest and most valuable twelfth 
and thirteenth century panels have been removed 
from the cathedral, and are now the property of the 
Musee des Arts Decoratif a, in Paris. Unfortunately 
they are not always on exhibition. On the south side 
of the nave is a fine series of Renaissance windows, 
but these, together with the grey and gold figure 
panels of St. Alpin, and the excellent coloured ones 
of the fine church of Notre Dame, will be discussed 
in our sixteenth century pilgrimages (see page 233). 



ROYAL Rheims! In this title, "apt alliteration's 
artful aid" not only appeals to our ear but is also 
fully justified by history. In its splendid cathedral 
were crowned almost all the kings of France, the 
sacred oil used in the ceremony having been, saith the 
old legend, brought from heaven by a dove for the 
baptism in 496 of Olovis, King of the Franks, and 
thereafter preserved in a sacred vessel locked away 
in the tomb of St. Remi. Because of this having 
been for so many years, nay centuries, the place of 
royal consecration, what more appropriate decora- 
tion could have been devised for the great clerestory 
embrasures than the series of the first thirty-six kings 
of France, each window containing in its lower half 
the archbishop that consecrated the king above him! 
All these seventy-two figures are seated, because con- 
vention demanded this if the personage represented 
was dead. Down upon us from their lofty station 
about the nave clerestory gleam these long rows 
of the royalties and ecclesiastical dignitaries of 
France, a marvellous exemplification of what 
colour in glass can accomplish. An echoing gleam 



conies to us from the clerestory of the choir; 
but there the figures are those of great bishops, not 
only of "Rheims, but also of other cities in its diocese, 
like Laon, Soissons, etc. At first thought it may 
seem bad English to speak of a gleam of light as an 
echo of another gleam, but before you criticise the 
expression, stand patiently for awhile in this great 
house of God, looking up at these splendid windows ; 
perhaps there will at last come over you a feeling that 
in all this noble harmony of colour, this blending of 
soft tones, there is there must be some dim har- 
mony of music. One never receives this peculiar im- 
pression except from glass of the thirteenth century ; 
later glass lacks the depth and vibration of tone, even 
though it gains added brilliancy. Especially splendid 
is the effect of the kings dominating the nave below. 
Those near the transepts have a deep blue back- 
ground, whilst a few close to the west end have behind 
and around them a soft, rich red. There is no other 
place where such sombre depth of hue can be seen 
in a clerestory glazed during the thirteenth century. 
At Bourges they are magnificent, but their beauty 
is of a different and brighter sort. Here at Eheims, 
although raised high in the air, they yield the same 
dusky glow that elsewhere we usually find in the 
medallion panels of the choir chapels below. So 
wonderful are the windows above you that there is 
a fair chance that you would have left the cathedral 
without noticing that below there are no medallion 


windows at all ; in fact, that practically none of its 
lower panes are glazed in colour. This is owing to 
the almost incredible folly of the monks of Rheims 
who, in the years 1739-68, removed the coloured 
glass from the lower embrasures to admit more light. 
During the two years following October, 1755, they 
committed the same act of vandalism in the church 
of St. Remi. The cathedral has three fine rose win- 
dows, of which the western one with its bright-hued 
gallery of kings below it is far the best. The north 
rose window is good, although we miss the qualities 
which the north rose of Notre Dame at Paris has 
taught us to expect. The south rose contains glass 
of the sixteenth century and therefore seems pale and 
out of place amidst the older glories. The west ro- 
sace should be seen toward sunset so as to get the 
rays of the sun passing directly through it. Earlier 
in the day it is almost gloomy in tone. There has 
been much discussion as to the interpretation of the 
figures in the gallery of kings below, but now it 
seems settled that it represents the coronation of 
the converted pagan Clovis, King of the Franks. 
The windows of the transepts are glazed with 
grisaille of a very greenish tone and somewhat 
darker than that generally found at this time. Among 
them we observe one of the series of bishops which 
has apparently crept away from its fellows in the 
choir and come around the corner into the south tran- 
sept. Although the bishop series lacks, to some ex- 



tent, the crude, almost savage glory of the nave's 
stern array of kings, they are more carefully made. 
As in the king windows, here also we find an upper 
and a lower row of personages, but in addition, a 
feature very much out of the ordinary and which 
should be remarked. Instead of placing two bishops 
below to balance the two above, there is but one bishop 
below in each window, while the space adjoining him 
is occupied by a fanciful representation of his cathe- 
dral. There is no attempt to accurately portray the 
building, although the glass artist might as well have 
done so, for he has gone to the pains of making no two 
of these little cathedral pictures alike. So minutely 
has he gone into detail that each has a tiny rose win- 
dow and each rose is markedly different from the 
others. The idea is a quaint one and shows the artist 
to have been fertile in ideas. So dark are the faces 
of the bishops as to make them, look in one or two 
cases as though they were wearing masks. This ef- 
fect is heightened by the fact that the eyes are glazed 
in lighter hues. 

Tn the midst of all this gorgeous and sparkling 
colour, what a splendid picture may we not conjure 
up of the scene on the 17th day of July, 1429, when 
Charles VII, led in by Joan of Arc, had here the 
kingly crown placed upon his brow. With what vast 
satisfaction must the grand old kings have gleamed 
and glowed in sombre delight that their glorious 
cathedral was once more "French, once more fulfilling 


its centuries-old duty of consecrating a French king, 
and especially that all this had been effected by a 
staunch French maid, than whom patriotism has 
never had a more worthy exemplar. It was but com- 
mon justice that during the act of coronation of the 
king to whom she had restored not only a throne, but 
also a united people, she stood at the foot of the 
altar holding aloft her victorious standard. A 
chronicler of the time truly said that having shared 
in all the hardships she richly deserved to share in 
the honours. 

Not only in the cathedral do we glass hunters find 
justification for the title "Eoyal Eheims." Once 
more we shall see a row of French kings, this time 
in the small nave clerestory lights of the old church 
of St. Eemi. In manner similar to that employed 
at the cathedral we also find bishops adorning the 
choir clerestory. Fine as these two series are, and 
valuable, too (because they are earlier), we must 
confess that they do not produce the effect which the 
wonderful depth of colour gave us at the cathedral. 
The choir clerestory embrasures are really too small 
to afford room for the two rows of bishops one above 
the other. The choir chapel windows are partly 
modern, and partly old with too much restora- 
tion, so that the effect is not coherent. We must, 
however, remark a fine Crucifixion in the middle of 
the east end. It is undoubtedly twelfth century and, 
although technically well worthy of observation, 



lacks the beauty which we have a right to expect from 
that period. The glass in the large, round Roman- 
esque embrasures at the west end, although copied on 
old models, is modern and very thin in colour. A 
careful look at the nave clerestory will reveal that 
in order to complete the set of seated kings a novel 
method was adopted. Many of the original panels 
were divided in two at the middle, the upper half 
being used in one embrasure and the lower half in 
another, the missing half in each case being sup- 
plied by modern glass made to imitate the old. This 
reads as though the effect would be bad, but on the 
contrary it is fairly good and, at all events, the de- 
signs are in accordance with the original drawings. 
Besides its glass, Rheims has another great at- 
traction for the traveller in its wealth of tapestry. A 
magnificent series of ten presented in 1530 by Robert 
de Lenoncourt hangs in the transepts of St. Remi, 
whilst in the cathedral we shall find around the nave 
walls another series of fourteen given in the same 
year by the same donor. The cathedral is also 
adorned with other tapestries which, although per- 
haps not of such engrossing interest as the Lenoncourt 
series, are nevertheless treasures. As glass viewers 
it is well to observe that the rich decoration provided 
by these splendid hangings prevents us from notic- 
ing the otherwise obnoxious glare from the uncol- 
oured windows just over them. We mention this 
here because as between two interesting glass towns 



some of our readers might incline to one where 
tapestries can be seen in addition to the glass. The 
Cathedral of Angers provides also the same double 



DURING- the two tours just concluded we have 
visited all the most important treasure-houses of 
thirteenth century glass. 

There is, however, a very agreeable secondary tour. 
Regarded as a glass pilgrimage, it is not to be com- 
pared with the two which we have finished, but this 
must not be taken to mean that the glass will not 
be worth inspection. Besides, most of the windows 
to be seen are of the period, thus making it an essen- 
tially thirteenth century pilgrimage. To one in whom 
the love of glass and devotion to the gentle sport of 
automobiling is about equal, this trip will be much 
more attractive than the last two. The scenery 
through which he will pass and the history that will 
be recalled will add very much to the charm of this 
itinerary and it is therefore particularly recom- 
mended to the automobilist and especially to the 
exercise-loving bicyclist. The distances between the 
towns are not great and the landscape is varied and 
delightful. Beginning with Soissons, our road lies 
through the picturesque mediaeval stronghold of 
Coucy-le-Chateau to the high-perched hill city of 



Laon, then over the plain at its foot to battleworn 
St. Quentin, and lastly across the rolling country to 
the splendid Cathedral of Amiens. Amiens is on 
the line of the Paris-London expresses, so we have 
excellent train service back to Paris. 

We will let the traveller find his way as best he 
may from Paris to Soissons and will join him there. 
He will soon observe that there has departed from 
Soissons the ancient glory which was hers when 
under Clovis, the great king of the Franks, she be- 
came the capital of his strong province of ]STeustria. 
To-day we find a quiet provincial city of only about 
13,000 inhabitants, where the chief movement and 
life seems to centre in the barracks. One notice- 
able feature of the town is the really fine west 
front, all that remains of the Abbey of St. Jean- 
des-Vignes, for nine years the home of the exiled 
Thomas a Becket Even from its present denuded 
state of desolate loneliness one realises how splendid 
the complete building must have been, and the now 
empty and staring rose window above the central 
portal makes us sigh for the stained glass that must 
once have adorned that huge opening. 

Soissons is one of the towns which benefited by 
the great love felt by St. Louis and his mother, 
Blanche of Castile, for stained glass. The northern 
rose of the cathedral is a proof of their beneficence, 
and is an excellent example of its type. The central 
pane is occupied by a figure of the Virgin Mary, and 



circling round her are the medallion panels which are 
so much more satisfactory than the spokes-of-a-wheel 
treatment so popular in the next century. Around 
the outside of the medallions is a double border of 
panels containing the arms of the royal benefactress, 
a field of red bearing the golden castles of Castile, 
As for the rest of the interior, so much of its original 
glazing has been destroyed that the effect of glow is 
entirely dissipated. The nave has lost its coloured 
panels, and only fragments remain in the western rose. 
The large lancets about the east end of the choir 
clerestory are most decorative, and further, they pro- 
vide an opportunity of testing oiir ability to judge 
glass. At first sight we are convinced that they are of 
true thirteenth century mosaic work, and might con- 
tinue to think so, if they were not betrayed by the 
comparison afforded by the two genuine medallion 
lancets just below them in the Lady Chapel. Even 
then we may remain undecided, which indecision is 
justified when we learn their history. They were re- 
paired and restored iu 1816, much of the old glass 
being retained and the old designs carefully followed. 
This explains not only why they lack the depth of 
tone seen in the complete medallions below them, but 
also why they were so deceptive until this touch- 
stone of comparison was applied. Notice the Adam 
and Eve window to the right, as the design is very 
unusual. In the six scenes there depicted, one above 
the other, Adam and Eve are of course nude, and 



appear always she 011 the left side and he on the right 
of each little scene, with some other personage or 
object between them in the middle. As a result we 
have a perpendicular column of Eves on one side and 
of Adams on the other, the light glass used to make 
the flesh colour forming a secondary border for the 
window. The southern transept is an architectural 
freak, because instead of a rose window it has a 
rounded end like the apse chapel generally found at 
the eastern extremity of a church. As a novelty it 
is agreeable, but it deprives the glazier of one of his 
rose windows. 



THOSE proceeding upon this pilgrimage by auto- 
mobile or bicycle, will find a treat awaiting them be- 
tween Soissons and Laon. The road lies through 
Coucy-le-Chateau, the impressive and well-preserved 
ruin of a massive mediaeval fortress. The huge 
round towers at its corners, connected by walls thirty- 
five feet thick, frown down from their rocky perch 
upon a pleasant valley below. Snuggled up against 
these protecting walls is the little town, which we 
enter by a narrow gateway crowded in between two 
great solemn towers. On we go through the narrow 
old streets and out another well-defended portal and 
off on our journey. When first we espy Laon we are 
far off on the rolling plain which surrounds its base. 
It looms high in the air, the four towers of its cathe- 
dral peering out above the encircling houses, all 
seeming to keep watch over the tiring zigzags by 
means of which the road lazily climbs the height. A 
city built upon a hill always possesses a fascination, 
more especially when it has a history as long and in- 
teresting as this one. The lofty situation makes the 
town seem to hold itself aloof and lends it a certain 



proud mystery which impels us to seek to know more 
of it to penetrate its reserve. Laon is even more 
picturesque and striking than most French hill towns, 
because the height upon which it stands rises abruptly 
from a great plain. None of the height is lost and 
thus all the beauty is saved. After observing how 
remote it is upon its long, narrow hilltop, one can 
well understand why the later Carlovingian kings 
selected this stronghold for their capital. In those 
early times there was no artillery to endanger their 
loftily secure repose. The cathedral, which is a really 
fine one, presents us with some of those familiarly 
quaint touches that prove Gothic architecture to have 
been so close to the heart of its times. Perched aloft 
among the open spaces that interpenetrate its light 
towers, are life-size statues of oxen, in kindly mem- 
ory of the beasts of burden that hauled up from the 
plain below the great stones used in the building. 
Within the cathedral, although there is but little 
glass, it is all of this period and, besides, is so grouped 
as to do itself the greatest credit possible. All we 
shall find is a rose filled with medallions in the north 
transept and another and far finer one in the square 
eastern end, below which are ranged three gorgeous 
lancets of imposing dimensions. The northern rose 
contains scenes representing the sciences as under- 
stood and practised in the thirteenth century. One's 
memory of this rose is blue with hints of green, while 
gf the eastern series it is reddish purple. The centre 



Medalhon& are adtmt My smted to rounded apertures in Rose, and assist 
introducing effect oj huge blossom, later the lines radiated more from the 
centi e and tended toward a wheel effect 


of the splendid eastern rose is occupied by a figure of 
the Virgin Mary between John the Baptist and 
Isaiah, and around this group are two circles of 
medallions, the inner one of twelve containing the 
Apostles, and the outer, of twenty-four, the Elders 
of the Apocalypse. This concentration of all the old 
glass in these two quarters has the satisfactory result 
that anyone standing at the crossing and looking 
either into the north transept or into the choir, sees 
nothing but the splendid richness of mosaic medal- 
lions, and is not distracted by the sight of any other 
style of glazing. The placing of this fine glass more 
than compensates for its limited amount. After this 
sweeping praise, we may indulge ourselves in one 
mild criticism : the glass in the east end would seem 
richer still if it were not so much illuminated from 
within by the white glazed windows along the sides 
of the choir. If this were toned down, even by mod- 
em glass, it would cause a decided improvement. At 
St. Quentin, we are more than reconciled to the pres- 
ence of modern glass in the chapels around the choir, 
because it so modifies the light as to permit the 
thirteenth century panels in the choir clerestory to 
sparkle and gleam as they should. The north rose 
at Laon is of rare construction ; the stone framework 
is so cumbersome, and the amount of glazed surface 
eo modest, as to almost destroy the appearance of a 
rosace, and to substitute therefor that of a series of 
holes let into a wall. Also notice that the east rose 



is glazed flush with the stonework, thus presenting a 
level surface on the inside, while just below, in 
marked contrast, the three lancets are deeply recessed 
within. This method of constructing a rose is un- 
usual; another example is the west rose at Mantes. 
The square eastern end, instead of the usual rounded 
apse, is believed to be one of the many results seen 
throughout this diocese of the influence exerted by a 
twelfth century English bishop. Whatever the 
reason for this square apse, it admirably suits the 
rest of the edifice. 

Before leaving this delightful hilltop, we must not 
fail to take a stroll around the boulevards which have 
been constructed upon the overturned walls. The 
views from this promenade out over the great plain 
below linger long in one's memory. 



A FEW miles from Madrid lies the famous palace 
of the Escorial, built upon a ground plan following 
as closely as possible the shape of a gridiron. It 
was erected by King Philip II in pious memory of 
his famous victory at St. Quentin on St. Lawrence's 
Day, 1557. St. Lawrence achieved martyrdom by be- 
ing roasted alive on a gridiron, hence the selection of 
that huible utensil as a design for the royal thank- 
offering. There are few more interesting monu- 
ments to commemorate a victory, and one would 
hardly expect to hear that a battle won in northern 
France is commemorated by a palace far to the south 
across the Pyrenees. Many a time in history did 
St. Quentin make herself famous by her stout de- 
fences, but none ever won her so much fame as this 
defeat which, by delaying the Spanish forces, enabled 
the French armies to assemble behind her and save 
Paris. It was a great victory for Philip, but it cost 
him the possession of the French capital. 

As we stood upon the lofty heights at Laon, we 
looked far out over a wide plain, across which, forty- 
five kilometres to the northwest, lies St. Quentin. 



The quiet streets of this well-to-do city afford little 
to remind us of the medieval strife that so often 
raged through them. We hear no sounds that recall 
to us the angry noises of besiegers without, which so 
often carried dismay to the stout hearts of its burgh- 
ers. Unlike Laon, its situation and its buildings now 
present little to recall the picture of the past. The 
huge barn-like exterior of its great church is quite 
different from those we have been seeing. Even its 
triple-tiered flying buttresses have so short* a span as 
to entirely miss the decorating possibilities which we 
have a right to expect. It lacks the lightness and 
grace of the true Gothic; in fact, to tell the truth, it 
looms up big and bulky, more like an Italian church 
than the beautiful French ones. But when we have 
once passed inside, we are provided with a most 
agreeable surprise, for it is much more attractive 
than many whose external promise has been greater. 
There are two sets of transepts, one beyond the other, 
which unusual feature not only enhances the charm 
of the interior, but also causes its beauty to reveal 
itself in a more leisurely fashion. But to the glass ! 
In the choir clerestory are seven double windows, of 
which the lancets each hold two great dignitaries, 
one above the other. The small rosaces above, which 
serve to tie together these pairs of lancets, are 
very pleasing, nor should we fail to note the hand- 
some wide borders of the lancets themselves, plenti- 
fully besprinkled with fleur de lis. We must particu- 



larly appreciate the service performed by the modern 
glass around the choir chapels in so subduing the 
light as to permit these splendid lancets to receive all 
their illumination from without and therefore to 
disclose, undiminished in any way, that warm glow 
that makes them so delightful. The hideous poly- 
chrome painting of the interior also assists in this 
fruitful modification of the light, but this is the only 
possible apology for its presence! The oldest glass 
here is that which fills the two side windows of the 
Lady Chapel. Each has twenty medallions, those 
on the left showing Old Testament scenes, and those 
on the right, episodes from the life of the Virgin. 
One of the large transepts has a moderately-sized 
rose window which does not as usual contain figures, 
but, instead, is filled with designs in colour. The 
absence of the figures does not spoil the effect; in 
fact, the story depicted in glass of this period is 
nothing like so important as the colour scheme. 
The details of the legend are generally elabo- 
rately worked out, often in quaint episodes, 
but upon this the beauty of the window does 
not depend. Indeed, it is not until we are at such 
a distance that we can no longer distinguish the 
little figures that the charm of the glass begins to 
lay hold upon us. The reason we do not find more 
thirteenth century panels here is because the older 
part of the church was reconstructed during the 
reigix of Louis XL Furthermore, when we consider 



the many sieges to which the town has been sub- 
jected, as well as the great fire of October 14, 1669, 
it seems strange that even this much of so fragile a 
treasure has survived. In this connection it is 
interesting to learn that in 1557, Philip II in- 
structed his artillery to avoid hitting the great 
church. This very appreciation of art and respect 
for religion perhaps explains why, as soon as he had 
captured the city, he so promptly confiscated the 
church's gorgeous tapestries to be used later in deco- 
rating the Eseorial ! In 1766 an attempt was made 
to negotiate for them so that they could be restored 
to their original home, but the Spaniards replied 
that they could not part with so glorious a 
trophy. Nor was the ravaging hand of the warrior 
the only hostile force to which the unfortunate edifice 
was subjected. January 25, 1572, during a tempest, 
one of the great choir windows was blown in, and on 
Easter Day, 1582, the same fate befell the great win- 
dow of the first northern transept, this time with 
fatal results, for in falling it killed four priests. The 
old glass in the nave clerestory was removed by the 
monks in 1747 to secure more light, which form of 
vandalism was, unfortunately, only too common. We 
must not leave without commenting upon what a 
delightful monument of fifteenth century Gothic is 
afforded by the south end of the easterly transepts. 
Below is a chapel shut in by a light stone screen of 
admirable design; above it the stretch of wall is re- 



lieved with gracefully carved patterns, while higher 
still appear four large lancets surmounted by a 
rosace, all excellently glazed. The lancets have 
richly coloured single figures below canopies of such 
size that their pinnacles occupy more than half the 
height of the embrasures. The only criticism pos- 
sible of the otherwise satisfactory adjustment of the 
various portions of this south wall is that the rose is 
too high up and too small to balance the splendid lan- 
cets below it. Of sixteenth century glass there are 
two fine examples in the north end of this same pair 
of transepts, but we will postpone further reference 
to them until later on (see page 269). 

Before leaving the town, one should visit the Salle 
Syndicale in the Hotel de Ville in order to see the 
fine Frangois Premier fireplace, and the double arched 
ceiling with its quaint corbels. The windows of this 
room formerly contained a long series of sixteenth 
century scenes from the life and labours of Hercules, 
but a Prussian shell destroyed all but five of them. 

When he leaves St. Quentin, bound for Amiens, 
the traveller by railway is quite as well off as the 
automobilist or the bicyclist. Up to this stage of our 
journey the two latter have had a decided advan- 
tage, but now the country has less attractions to 
offer and the road is one of those straight Eoutes Ra- 
tionales whose only apology for their monotony is 
that they save distance. 



AT Amiens there is not much glass, and yet the 
student will not have wasted his time, for he will 
there see one of the finest cathedrals in Europe, 
and will furthermore be able to note what the 
lack of coloured glass means, in this way learning 
to value it even more highly than before. If a visit 
to this great church renders us no other service than 
this, we shall all agree that it is no small one. We 
shall never again question that a magnificent ec- 
clesiastical interior is not only vastly improved, but 
actually needs its light tempered by stained glass. 
Our pilgrim has long ere this learnt that he 
cannot always rely on guide-books to tell him 
whether or not fine windows are to be found in cer- 
tain towns, and therefore we may serve a, useful 
purpose and save some reader a disappointing trip 
by setting out the facts. The cathedral owes 
its chief beauty to the extraordinary detail and 
amount of sculpture to be found without and 
within. So complete are the scriptural events 
chronicled upon its west front that Ruskin has 
given it the title of the "Bible in Stone." Nor 



are the carvings which are to be found inside in 
any way inferior to those which fascinate us with- 
out. The stone screen which runs around the am- 
bulatory would alone repay much study, but the most 
notable display of the carver's art is the little army 
of nearly four thousand figures upon the choir stalls. ' 
Notwithstanding this wealth of sculpture, we are 
struck by the bareness of the lofty interior. We long 
for a touch of mystery and cannot but feel that in 
the glare of light streaming through the immensely 
tall uncoloured windows everything is too clearly re- 
vealed and there is lacking the softness which would 
add so much to the beauty of the carvings. What a 
change there would be for the better if we could wave 
a wand and by some fairy power will back into the 
windows their ancient glories. Everything is too 
stately and cold, too sharply outlined; in fact, far 
too much denuded of the mysterious charm, the awe- 
inspiring gloom which lays hold upon us at Ohartres 

or Bourges. 

i .. !*&"* 

Although but little of its glass has survived, it is 
almost all of the thirteenth century, and some is very 
good. In one of the choir chapels to the left is an 
interesting Tree of Jesse in the medallion style. The 
left window of the easternmost chapel has a charm- 
ing blue background and a novel use of small white 
birds in its border. Above us in the easternmost win- 
dow of the clerestory (the only one in the clere- 
story that has survived intact) another unique fea- 


tare catches the eye its four slender lancets contain 
some very decorative lettering introduced into the 
design. This lettering is glazed in white on a blue 
background and its legend when deciphered sets out 
that those three windows were given by Bernard 
d' Abbeville, Bishop of Amiens, in the year 1269. 
In contrast to these meagre remains of glass, 
there are also to be seen three fine rose windows 
which are completely glazed. They all have quaint 
names, that in the west facade being called the "Bose 
of the Sea"; that in the north the "Eose of the 
Winds"; that in the south the a Eose of Heaven." 
This poetic and quaintly familiar method of naming 
windows is not unknown elsewhere; it is also 
found at Ohartres. The huge western rose, 
thirty-eight feet in diameter, although dating from 
1241, has lost its original glass and was re- 
glazed in the sixteenth century. There are no fig- 
ures in the north rose, but instead a mosaic of colour ; 
we have noticed a similar arrangement at St. Quentin. 
In the south rose, red predominates, but with it there 
is also considerable green. If the reader decides to 
visit Amiens, notwithstanding the small amount of 
glass to be seen there, he will surely conclude that 
the day has not been wasted, for he will not leave 
that splendid interior without a truer appreciation 
j>f the great service which the glass artist rendered 
to the architect, as well as a sigh for the fragile 
beauty which is no longer there. 




NOWHERE in art can there be found so abrupt a 
change of style as that which marks in stained glass 
the arrival of the fourteenth century. So noticeable 
is the difference between the windows of the thir- 
teenth and those of the fourteenth centuries that it 
can be seen at a glance. Not only were the new styles 
very distinctive, but they were also very enduring, for 
even when the fifteenth century arrived it did little 
but elaborate the ideas introduced by the fourteenth, 
and for that reason we should consider them together 
as forming one epoch. The new results which we now 
find are not only in effect, but also in light and in 
placing of figures. This transformation took place 
within a few years and was, therefore, as sudden in 
point of time as it was in treatment, which latter is 
so marked that it excites our curiosity as to its causes. 
It is safe to assume that we have here happened upon 
not only one novelty but a coincidence of several, as 
otherwise the change would have been much less 
abrupt. Most of the new elements which in combi- 
nation so suddenly produced such a sweeping change 
can be studied from the glass which has survived to 



these modern days, but of one we can now only read : 
this was the demand for domestic glass, and unfortu- 
nately but few examples of it are left to us. The old 
chroniclers tell us of many private houses and build- 
ings devoted to civil uses having their windows glazed 
in colour, a form of luxury hitherto found only in 
religious edifices. We know that it then began to 
be widely used, especially in Paris, but it did not 
survive the 'turbulence of those times. The effect of 
this novel use on glass styles was very marked. Ob- 
viously it was not practicable to employ the same 
sort of glass in the smaller rooms of a dwelling 
house that we have seen so effective in the larger in- 
teriors of religious edifices. We notice that beauti- 
ful as is the thirteenth century Ste. Ohapelle, its 
"dim religious light" is unsuited for any building de- 
voted to secular uses. No, the medallion window 
with its deep-toned panes and profusion of leads 
would not serve for civil or domestic purposes, nor, 
on the other hand, could we bring down the big 
personages from the clerestories of cathedrals; they 
were most impressive when seen from the distance 
which their lofty situation necessitated, but they were 
much too crude and coarse in their workman- 
ship to be lowered to the level of the observer's eye. 
For this new demand of domestic architecture it 
was obvious that something must be devised which 
would give more light. One method of effecting it 
was using coloured figures on a soft grisaille back- 



ground, but this has only to be seen to be found un- 
satisfactory. Some examples of this exist in the 
north side of Ste. Eadegonde at Poitiers. They are 
interesting, but the figures start out from the light 
background so violently as to plainly make them un- 
suitable in small interiors. Plain grisaille was not 
rich enough to be used in a fine private house. As 
a compromise between these two methods they ar- 
rived at the use of a border of greyish simulated 
Gothic architecture to frame the central coloured 
figure of a window. In this way the border ad- 
mitted the light and the figure gave the richness; 
these Gothic frames were called "canopies." But why 
a frame of architecture ? The interest in Gothic had 
by this time spread throughout the fair land of 
France. Many beautiful examples of it had just come 
into being before people's eyes it was the delight of 
all. It was but natural that this noble style, still 
young, should be introduced by the glazier, especially 
as it lent itself to the demand for more light. Besides, 
in knowledge of Gothic, the glass artist was second 
only to the architect, as the windows were made to 
suit the church, not the church the windows. This 
observation upon the relation of the glazier to the 
architect brings us to another reason for the abrupt 
change in stained glass, and of this we can to-day 
readily find examples. We have said that the artist 
had to make his glass to suit the window apertures. 
About that time the architect was changing their 



shape. Instead of being broad and single windows 
they were now more numerous but narrower and 
taller, and were brought together in groups of two 
or more, separated only by stone mullions. Above 
this cluster of narrow lancets and in order to taper 
them off gracefully, were placed smaller openings 
called tracery lights. Without this tapering at the 
top, the group below would look unfinished and i]J r 
proportioned. The few, though wide windows used 
during the thirteenth century were found to give too 
little light, and, besides, were not as decorative as 
the Gothic architect demanded for his more elabo- 
rate style. This new period in architecture is called 
"Decorated," which name has also properly been ap- 
plied to its glass. The architect not only did every- 
thing in his power to gain more light by providing 
many more wall apertures, but doubtless he also 
insisted that the glazier assist in this endeavour. 
We have just seen that the latter complied with this 
request by surrounding his coloured figures with 
light-admitting architectural frames of greyish-yel- 
low. Nor did he stop there : ho helped the architect 
to bind together more harmoniously his groups of 
narrow lights into which the whole window was now 
split up, for he realised that horizontal bands of 
light colour placed straight across these narrow 
lights would effect this purpose. The slender stone 
mullions which divided them showed too many 
perpendicular lines and tended to make the windows 

iiffiii liKfif IWiii 

Illil SRHtlli 


:.,! i 

i M* ; I 
ii.^fl 1, 

i i.'i 




2faine given because of Gothic canopy used to frame the coloured 
figures 1*he pale grey glass in zfie tano^y portton admitted 
imtch more light than the ear her ivmdoivs richly coloured 
tTtroughoitt Wote the modestly drawn donors in t/te leivest panels 

* century canopies seldom filled the -vhole embrasure, ap- 
pearing only in bauds across a gnsatlle jfield ' , betides, their 
architecture ivas much cruder ^ they lacked pedestals? etc 


seem spindling, but this was corrected by the broad 
bands of light afforded by the grey and yellow cano- 
py tops running along over the heads of the saints 
occupying the tall narrow panes. Perhaps the reader 
is already asking whence the artist obtained so much 
grey and yellow, because thirteenth century glass 
leaves rather a strong purple memory behind it. To 
answer this question is to bring forward another new 
thing and one which also had a large share in abruptly 
changing the styles. About the beginning of the four- 
teenth century it was discovered that if silver were 
floated upon the surface of glass and then exposed to 
the furnace, the result would be a bright yellow stain. 
The word "stain" is used advisedly, because by this 
method the surface received a durable colour not re- 
movable Hke paint. We have already seen that pot- 
metal colour was introduced throughout the mass 
during the time of the making of the glass and was 
therefore part of it from the beginning. This new 
stain was not applied until after the glass was made, 
and no other tint but yellow could be produced in 
this way. The discovery of this valuable secret has 
been variously recounted, but always the credit is 
given to blind chance, some silver happening to drip 
upon glass which, when burnt, disclosed to the sur- 
prised workman the new and beautiful yellow. Its 
great value in admitting light as well as in enriching 
the tones of a window was at once appreciated. No 
longer was it necessary to laboriously lead in a bit 



of yellow pot-metal glass where that hue was de- 
manded by the design. Now all that was done was to 
float a little silver upon a large piece of glass at the 
point or points required, expose it to the fire, and 
behold ! a tint that made glorious the hair of 
angels, or the robes of saints and high dignitaries. 
Touches of this rich colour also made possible archi- 
tectural frames which would otherwise have seemed 
dull, flat and opaquely grey. Each little pinnacle 
could be brightened up, lines of yellow would enliven 
columns and the canopy window in its light soft 
beauty was made practicable. 

It is an unfortunate fact that the best glass of 
this period is not to be seen in Paris, although we can 
get a fair idea of its effect from the fifteenth century 
canopied figures in the clerestory of St. Severin. A 
few of those at the west end of this church are at 
once seen to differ in their design from the others, 
although all are of the true canopy type. These few 
to the west were brought from their original place 
in the choir of St. Germain des Pres. At St. 
Severin we shall note several points which serve to 
distinguish the canopies of the fifteenth century from 
the earlier ones of the fourteenth. The difference 
is chiefly in the use of more colours in the later 
figures, as well as more careful architectural detail 
in their canopies. Further, to make his windows 
lighter in tone, the French glazier of the fourteenth 
century generally used bands of canopies only across 



the middle third of the surface, filling the upper- 
most and lowest thirds with grisaille. The fifteenth 
century canopies almost invariably filled the entire 
embrasure. Frequently during the fourteenth cen- 
tury the artist was not content with the light ad- 
mitted by his canopies, but added to it by using white 
for one or more of the saints" robes. This practice 
so reduced the number of colours in the background 
and the garments that we seldom find more than two 
colours within the niches of fourteenth century cano- 
pies, while in the fifteenth century we almost al- 
ways find four. Then, too, there is an added feature 
of decoration in the later ones which is generally 
lacking earlier : across the back of the niche a coloured 
curtain is carried shoulder high behind the figure, 
and this curtain is almost always damasked. This 
can be remarked at St. Severin, where we shall also 
see that all the figures stand upon elaborate pedes- 
tals, another sign that we are looking at work of the 
fifteenth century, for in the fourteenth they would 
have lacked pedestals and be found standing upon 
grass or some other natural and unarchitectural base. 
The artist was so careful to cling closely to con- 
temporary conventions that sometimes we happen 
upon very amusing compromises. For example, here 
tradition demanded pedestals, so there they are, even 
though he had to make the rather ridiculous combi- 
nation of a figure standing upon a half-circle of 
cloud neatly balanced upon the pedestal's tessellated 



pavement. The conventions demanded the little 
pavement, the design required the clouds, so he gave 
us both ! In these days when we are so occupied in 
copying older art, it is interesting to see traces of a 
time when they jealously clung to the styles and 
forms which were then new. 

A brilliant yellow was the only tint obtainable 
by the process of staining, but it is also true that 
other new colours were secured, although by means of 
an entirely different discovery which, of itself, pro- 
vided yet another new thing to combine with those 
already enumerated in changing glass methods. This 
discovery took place early in the fourteenth century 
and made it possible to superimpose another colour 
upon white or coloured glass. The method of produc- 
ing this effect was very simple : the end of the blow- 
pipe was dipped first into liquid glass of one colour, 
and then into another, with the result that the bubble 
when blown was of one colour inside and of another 
outside. The bubble was then opened out into the 
flat sheet as usual. This process had always been 
followed to make red glass, which was really a sheet 
of white coated with ruby, but now all sorts of com- 
binations were made. Thus a brilliant purple could 
be obtained by coating a piece of red glass with blue ; 
red on yellow would give a splendid orange ; blue on 
yellow a brilliant green. Although invented early 
in the fourteenth century, this process did not have 
all its possibilities developed until during the fif- 



teenth, when the number of layers was gradually 
increased until we find some specimens showing six 
different coats. We shall enjoy the results when we 
visit Quimper or Eymoutiers or Bourges. The 
French have a very descriptive name for glass treated 
in this manner : they call it "verre double/' or "lined 
glass," referring to the fact that there are two layers. 
The abrupt change in glass windows which took place 
at the beginning- of the fourteenth century become? 
less extraordinary when we recapitulate the various 
discoveries in the art and realise what an effect must 
have been caused by such a combination as that of 
(a) the ehanee-revealed yellow stain; (6) domestic 
use which required glass fit for small, well-lighted 
interiors; (c) the demands of the architect for his 
narrowed and more numerous window apertures, and 
lastly (d) the enriching of the artist's palette due to 
the new process of doubling the sheets of glass. The 
whole trend is now towards much more light, larger 
pieces of glass, brighter colours and more attention f 
to the design at the expense of the colour effect of the 

We have now not only set forth the great change 
that was so speedily effected in the style and appear- 
ance of stained glass, but further, we have enumer- 
ated the various novelties, both in popular require- 
ments and in technique, which brought about the 
light tones of the fourteenth century. The steps by 
which was effected this transition from the thirteenth 


century mosaic type with its rudimentary suggestion 
of a canopy, to the fourteenth century figure en- 
sconced in his little sentry-box, can be seen on but 
few existing windows; in fact, so little transition 
glass is there that the change strikes one all the more 
forcibly. There are, however, a few available for 
this purpose, notably the three eastern lancets of the 
Lady Chapel in the Abbey Church at Fecamp, and a 
certain window in the north transept of Amiens 
Cathedral. The Fecamp lancets show us the first 
step, where, although the glass is still entirely 
mosaic, the architecture at the top is brought down 
the sides of the figure so as to complete the sentry- 
box. Of course this admits no more light than the 
regular medallion lancets which conveniently assist 
our comparison by flanking on cither side the three 
easterly ones. We have thus arrived at the enfram- 
ing canopy, but have not yet conformed to the de- 
mand for more light which had now become so in- 
sistent. How will this be done? A mosaic medal- 
lion could not well be put upon a light surface, as it 
would look splotchy and unfinished (viz. : first chapel 
on the left of choir ambulatory in Rouen Cathedral), 
nor would it do to station unf ramed, isolated, coloured 
figures on an uncoloured surface (viz.: Ste. Rade- 
gonde at Poitiers). To avoid the unfinished appear- 
ance, they hit upon the idea of surrounding the 
coloured figure with a frame-like architectural'^or- 
der (as just seen at Fgcamp), and then put this 



framed picture in the midst of the plain panes. This 
step is exemplified by a large donble-lanceted win- 
dow just west of the north transept door in Amiens 
Cathedral. The entire window is surcharged with a 
number of these canopy-framed figures arranged in 
parallel perpendicular lines. We have now gained 
more light, and it is easy to see what is coming next. 
Instead of placing the small canopies up and down 
the window (as at Amiens), it would obviously be 
more effective to assemble them in bands across it. 
Both Sees and Evreux serve to illustrate this manner 
of glazing. There are many examples that mark the 
slow development from these fourteenth century 
horizontal rows of canopies across a grisaille or quar- 
ry background, to the perfected canopy window of 
the fifteenth century, where the service of admitting 
light is entirely transferred from the grisaille or 
quarry to the canopy itself. This has been rendered 
possible by greatly increasing the space allotted to 
the simulated stonework, so as to enable it to let in 
all the illumination required, and at the same time 
perform its duty of framing the coloured part of the 
picture. These windows at Fecamp and Amiens are 
very instructive as showing us the experimental step? 
which resulted in the satisfactory combination of 
picture and ilkimination, instead of splotches of 
colour on a light field. 

Ii must not be thought that we have dwelt too 
long on this particular period of transition, for this 



is the only time during the Golden Age of glass that 
there took place an abrupt change in styles, and there- 
fore a speedy and marked transition. There was 
certainly nothing hasty in the way that the broad 
borders and larger glass pieces of the twelfth century 
developed into the narrower borders and more 
minutely mosaic method of the thirteenth. As to 
the transition from the fourteenth to the fifteenth 
century, so slowly and so imperceptibly was it ef- 
fected that we have decided to study those two cen- 
turies together as one epoch, the second being but the 
natural elaboration of the first. Lastly, nothing could 
be more measured and deliberate than the steps by 
which the fifteenth century canopy developed into 
the sixteenth century large picture panel, by first 
changing the canopy from Gothic to Renaissance, 
then enlarging the scene within the new canopy until 
it finally outgrew the need for the frame, and emerged 
therefrom in its completed state, often covering a 
whole window. 

If at this point we turn to our histories, we shall 
soon encounter reasons which convincingly explain 
why there remains so little fourteenth-fifteenth cen- 
tury glass for us to see. This was the period of the 
English occupation of a large portion of France. A 
peaceful possession of a part of the country might 
not have interfered with the course of art in other 
quarters, but the English possession was f ai from a 
peaceful one. Fighting, and that of the bitterest 



kind, went on continually. We have only to mention 
the "Hundred Years War" with England (1337- 
1453)5 Barked by the disastrous defeats of Crecy 
(1346) and of Poitiers (1356), to be reminded of 
that. It is true that Bertrand du Guesclin won a 
short-lived success against the English (1364), but 
1415 sees them again victorious at Agincourt and 
their occupation of Paris in 1421. This temporary 
victory of Du Guesclin proved an evil thing for 
France, as it prolonged the fighting and increased the 
frightful carnage which drenched French soil with 
blood. It is clear that during times'" like these the 
nobility was not in a position to interest itself in 
beautifying chateaux or churches. They were most 
earnestly concerned in the gentle art of erecting for- 
tifications; safety and strength were of vital impor- 
tance; beauty had to stand aside and wait. The 
records show many instances of great architectural 
enterprises being halted from lack of funds or from 
other motives, a case in point being Troyes Cathe- 
dral, upon which no work was done for a long period 
of years. The nobility were injured more than the 
lower classes by these wars, and in the great defeats 
of Crecy, Poitiers and Agincourt their losses were 
frightful. Many a titled family lost its estates and 
many another was exterminated. In battle the mid- 
dle and lower classes suffered proportionately less, 
because the French placed most of their reliance upon 
armoured knights and disdained to avail themselves 



of the bourgeoisie to the same extent as the EuyL li, 
whose splendid bowmen and yeomanry were so potent 
a factor in winning those great victories. The fact 
that the great families of France were so grievously 
crippled during these wars goes far to explain why 
glass painting languished for lack of the support 
which the luxury-loving class of society was not then 
able to give it. Almost as serious for the nobles as 
the losses in battle and other ravages of war, was the 
reign of the subtle Louis XI (14G1-S1), who devoted 
his entire life to destroying the strength of the no- 
bility and to building upon its ruins the centralised 
power of the throne, meanwhile guarding this in- 
crease of kingly power by encouraging the growth 
of the gendarmerie, and generally the military re- 
liability of the bourgeoisie. One incident from his 
life provides us with a fact of great interest to a glass 
student. Upon the occasion of the repulse of the 
Bretons by the inhabitants of the French city of 
St. L6, Louis presented to the cathedral of that town, 
as an expression of his approval of the bravery of 
its citizens, a fine set of stained glass windows. As 
an event in political statecraft it is most significant : 
he did not ennoble or enrich certain leaders, but 
gave the entire fighting populace a royal gift. To 
us it has a peculiar interest, because the incident 
shows that stained glass was held in such high es- 
teem as to be considered a worthy gift from a king 
to a city. But before turning from a review of the 



evil days which fell upon France, we must notice 
that although the nobility suffered more heavily from 
battle and statecraft than any other class, the times 
were tragic enough for all Frenchmen, whether noble 
or peasant, rich or poor. The plague raged through- 
out the land not once, but many times during 
these two centuries and its fearsome grasp fell upon 
all alike. Nor was this misery enough; to all these 
calamities was added that of civil war of the worst 
type the war of the masses against the classes. The 
scorn in which the nobles held the poor man was but 
the natural outcome of the feudal state. The man 
in armour despised Jacques Bonhomme, as he called 
him. When in 1358 the disorders ai&icting the body 
politic caused this contempt and ill-treatment to so 
increase that it could no longer be endured, the up- 
rising of the oppressed against the oppressor assumed 
in hideous satire the name of the Jacquerie. Before 
it could be finally put down, French soil was drenched 
again and again with blood. Even this short dip into 
contemporary history has revealed enough to make 
it passing strange that any glass at all was made in 
France during those trying times, and stranger still 
that, if made, it should have survived* 

We have just seen that during most of these two 
centuries the French kings were fully occupied at 
home, first in fighting the English, with France as 
the battleground, and later in subduing their arrogant 
nobles and adding Burgundy, Franche Comte, 



Artois, Provence and Brittany to the French crown. 
At the end of this period, with their home lands 
cleared of the English and the centralised power of 
the throne much strengthened, we shall see how, 
under Louis XII (1498) and Francis I (1515), war 
was carried on outside the borders of France. Under 
the influences of this freedom from the ravages of 
war, combined with tasle for art learnt during the 
Italian campaigns and brought back to France, there 
sprang up an aesthetic revival called the French 
Renaissance. This new development is going to give 
us a very different style of glass painting, which we 
will study later under the title of the sixteenth cen- 

Before starting out to visit the glass of the four- 
teenth and fifteenth centuries, there are several re- 
marts 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 ex- 
ample. 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 un- 
doubtedly prefers the windows of the thirteenth and 
the sixteenth centuries, but after one has studied 



glass for awhile, lie will surely come to feel tliat 
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 de- 
stroyed. A fair way to judge the French glassmakers 
is to learn what their contemporaries across the 
channel thought of them. For this purpose it is 
worth citing from the contract for glazing Beau- 
champ 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 ma- 
terial from France. We find another apposite state- 
ment 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 pur- 
chase was made in 1317 they sent to Eouen for it. 
From these citations, selected from many similar 
ones, we may safely gather that the English consid- 
ered French glass the best, which is most significant 
when one reflects that just at that time English glass 
was at its highest point. 



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 con- 
tent 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 re- 
moved 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 be- 
cause 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 Cathe- 
dral 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 Bouen, 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 neigh- 
bour, Eiom), next across the mountains which over- 
shadow 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 Aleneon 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 Ohartres 
at this time. If he wishes, he can go on from Ver- 
neuil 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 Eiom, 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 Ms road, 
no matter by what means of transportation lie 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 him- 
self 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 supple- 
mented 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 distinguish- 
able from that of the century preceding it as well as 
of the century following, and has a beauty all its own. 



(a) Evreux, Rouen 

(1} Bourges, Mwhns, Riom^ Clermont-Ferrand, Eymoutun } 
Poztters, Angers, Le Mans, (Alencoti), Sies, Verneml, Chartres 
A Iso separate mnt to Qutmper 

(For table of distances , see page 393 ) 


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 thorough- 
fares 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 nar- 
rowness which not only characterises the cathedral's 
nave, but also the little channels into which the river 
Iton subdivides itself in preparation for its leisure- 
ly 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 narrow- 
ness 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 thai) any other church in Prance 
except, perhaps, St. Ouen, at Rouen. In our pre- 
liminary talk about the fourteenth century we re- 
ferred to the startling abruptness with which taste 
in glass veered around from the light-obscuring 
medallions of the preceding century to the light-ad- 
mitting 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 com- 
pleted form. The windows given by Guillaume 
d'Harcourt, dated 1310, show us the canopy win- 
dow 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 develope. 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 sur- 
charged 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 en- 
tire 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 con- 
tains 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. Eaoul De 
Ferrieres. The rich red background, surrounded by 
the golden canopy, makes a very effective combina- 
tion. 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 con- 
cerning 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 arc 
readily picked out by the perfected drawing of their 
canopies, the fact that they completely fill the em- 
brasures, 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 sec- 
ond 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 south- 
ern 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 in- 
dividuals 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 lan- 
cets filled with canopies enclosing single figures, and 
in the clerestory of the north transept the same treat- 
ment elsewhere the lancets contain grisaille or quar- 
ries surcharged with coloured bosses or shields the 
whole bordered in colour. Throughout all this in- 
terior 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 dis- 
tinctly 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 lan- 
cets 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 win- 
dows, 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 com- 
mon as to be almost monotonous) we have here 
groups, always agreeable and sometimes amusing. 
For example, the lower left-hand corner of the win- 
dow just left of the centre shows us St. Taurin res- 
cuing a lady from some very pointed flames, while 
a red imp, evidently much annoyed at being exor- 
cised, is darting off, much to the pious satisfaction of 
five smug onlookers. In accordance with the con- 
ventions, each niche has at the back a damasked cur- 
tain, above which a glimpse is afforded of an interior 
lighted by three windows, all very delicately por- 
trayed. 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 south- 
westerly window has been replaced by a later Ascen- 
sion scene, running across all four lancets. At the 
end of the south transept is a broad window, very in- 
teresting 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. 



IK 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 cur- 
sory way, knows that he must go to Rouen for Renais- 
sance glass. Although the splendid windows of its nu- 
merous churches bear witness to what that later pe- 
riod 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 with- 
out 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 es- 
teemed, not only in France, but also across the Chan- 
nel. We referred before to the fact that after Exeter 
Cathedral had in 1302-4- purchased glass for its win- 
dows and it became necessary in 1317 to procure an- 
other 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 sym- 
metrical Gothic edifice, the west front is unfortu-> 
nately 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 notice- 
able if we have but freshly come from the inspection 
of interiors whose light has been dimmed by thir- 
teenth 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 injunction? 
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 be- 
tween 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 ac- 
cordance 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, unfortu- 
nately, 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 per- 
sonages that decorate its windows. It is but natural 
that there results the symmetrical beauty which al- 
ways 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 win- 
dows 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 sil- 
very 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 tran- 
sept, and the north nave aisle. The two large win- 
dows 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 en- 
closes 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 en- 
livened 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 fea- 
ture 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 sur- 
charged with golden sunbursts. The three eastern- 
most 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 medal- 
lions 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 exempli- 
fied, 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 cur- 
tain 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 medal- 

At St. Maelou (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 fif- 
teenth century canopies whose lofty and intricate pin- 
nacles 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. 

An occasional fifteenth century panel is to be met 
with elsewhere in Rouen ^.e., the westernmost in the 



north wall at St. Vincent), but they are neither suf- 
ficiently numerous nor noteworthy to be cited here. 
\Ve shall carry away as our chief souvenirs of this 
preliminary visit to Eouen, memories of the com- 
plete glazing of St. Ouen, the varied exhibition of 
contemporary transitional types found at the Cathe- 
dral, and St. Maclou's delicately tinted half-circle of 
eastern chapels. 



we visited the Cathedral of Bourges to in- 
spect the glass of the thirteenth century (see page 42) 
we referred to that of the fifteenthwhich fills the win- 
dows of the nave chapels. It is to inspect these that 
we now make our second visit. It is very usual for 
chapels to radiate from around the choir of a church, 
but rarer to find them introduced into the side walls 
of the nave after the completion of the edifice. Per- 
haps it would not prove so eminently satisfactory at 
Bourges if it were not for the fact that the cathedral 
lacks transepts; but whatever the reason, the result 
in this instance is admirable. The window apertures 
of these nave chapels indicate that they were con- 
structed at a later period than the rest of the cathe- 
dral, for instead of the single broad windows which 
we find elsewhere about the interior, the lighting of 
each chapel is effected by a group of lancets bound 
together to form one very wide window space, the 
lancets being separated only by narrow stone mul- 
lions. To this architectural indication of date is 
added that of the glass, which is among the best that 
is known of the fifteenth century canopy type. The 



glazing of these chapels varies greatly in excellence, 
but is always good. In almost every case the win- 
dows consist of four lancets. We note here the cus- 
tom of placing upon the window a small kneeling 
figure of the donor, and from contemporary paintings 
we are able to affirm that the glass artist made these 
portraits as perfect as his skill permitted. In the 
chapel given by Pierre Trousseau not only do we find 
the donor but also his sister and his two brothers. 
This tendency to introduce various members of the 
family increased steadily in vogue, so much so that 
in the sixteenth century we shall often find two or 
three generations kneeling in a row in the lower 
panels. In the first two chapels on the left the per- 
sonages hold in their hands long winding scrolls on 
which there is writing. This form of decoration was 
also much elaborated in the next century, and very 
successfully, too. But the greatest of all fifteenth 
century chapels is the most easterly one on the north, 
just at the point where the choir chapels succeed to 
those of the nave. It was given by Jacques Cceur, 
the merchant prince of Bourges, who became treas- 
urer of France under Charles VII. It is as beauti- 
ful in detail and ensemble as a canopy window has 
ever been made. The mullions separating its four 
lancets are not allowed to interfere with the one great 
subject that extends over them all. Across the top of 
this picture is carried the most elaborate Gothic dome 
ever attempted in glass painting. The ceiling be- 



neath it is blue sprinkled with golden stars, and the 
groining of the arches which support it is golden also. 
The robes of the figures, beautiful in combination of 
colour, are elaborated to the last degree of decorative 
detail. Notice along the edge of the kneeling saint's 
robe a row of simulated embroidery panels gay with 
colour and gold. It is clear that Jacques Cceur em- 
ployed upon this window the best glass artist to be 
found, just as he must have engaged the most skill- 
ful architects and builders for his palace, to the 
glories of which we alluded in our thirteenth cen- 
tury pilgrimage. This window and that dwelling 
stamp him as one of the most intelligently appre- 
ciative patrons of the arts which his time produced. 
The fact that the cathedral is built upon the edge 
of the old Roman walls makes possible a well-lighted 
crypt instead of the gloomy cavern generally found 
beneath the choirs of most cathedrals. In the em- 
brasures at the eastern end of this lower church or 
crypt have been placed a set of fifteenth century win- 
dows taken from the old Ste. Chapelle of Bourges, 
each consisting of four canopies. Under the two 
central ones of each stand the coloured figures in the 
usual wsty, but under the two outer canopies the 
figures are partly concealed behind simulated archi- 
tectural columns. This unique arrangement serves 
to render the glass architecture all the more con- 
vincing. It would have been well if other towns had 
followed the example set by Bourges in thus preserv- 



ing in some storehouse like a cathedral the glass of 
other edifices which had to be destroyed, 

If we travel by automobile from Bourges to Cler- 
mont-Ferrand, we will probably elect to pass through 
Nevers and Moulins. We have already advised the 
railway traveller not to alight at Moulins and he will 
probably not do so at Nevers. About the latter we 
will say but a word. Although the cathedral has a 
special interest in that it is one of the two churches 
in France having an apse at its western as well as 
its eastern end (the other is at Besangon), it need 
not detain him, because it has no old glass. If he de- 
cides to stop to look at the cathedral, he should not 
fail to see the old palace of the Dukes of Bourbon, 
with the story of Lohengrin carved by Jean Goujon 
on the outside of its graceful spiral staircase. 


IF our pilgrim in going south from Bourges to 
Clermont-Ferrand passed through ISTevers, this slight 
detour has brought Moulins right upon his road. In 
this event he must avail himself of the opportunity 
to visit the cathedral, because its glass, although not 
of sufficient importance to demand breaking a railway 
journey, is distinctly worth seeing if he is passing the 
door. Besides, the sacristy of this church contains 
the splendid fifteenth century triptych, so long at- 
tributed to Ghirlandajo, but now conceded to have 
been the work of an unknown lloulins painterwho, for 
want of more particular information, is called the 
Master of Mxralins. Around the choir ambulatory 
there are a few canopy windows of the fifteenth cen- 
tury. Host of them are good, but one on the north 
side is quite remarkable and should be particularly 
noticed. The scene depicted is the Crucifixion and 
the background seems to be of a deep ruby. Closer 
inspection shows it to consist of a multitude of tiny 
red angels so crowded together as to give the effect, 
when viewed from a little distance, of a richly 
damasked surface. The result is as satisfactory as 



the method of obtaining it is original. There are 
also some good sixteenth century windows around the 
choir which are easily distinguishable because the 
architecture of their canopies is so obviously Renais- 
sance and so far removed from Gothic. 

As the autoniobilist or bicyclist passes through this 
town, he will be struck by the attractive local fea- 
ture of large diamond-shaped patterns in black or 
dark bricks on the red brick walls of the houses. The 
effect is most decorative. 



ON our trip south from Moulins we come upon 
Riom, a quiet little place living on its memories of 
mediaeval importance and treasuring within the shady 
circle of its wall-replacing boulevards many fine 
houses and other testimonials to its former wealth 
and importance. In an old-world country like France 
it is not unusual to find striking contrasts between 
those parts of a city which have been absolutely 
modernised and other portions still preserving their 
ancient appearance. Between neighbouring towns, 
however, it is not often that we shall notice so start- 
ling a difference as is effected by the 14 kilometres 
separating Riorn from Clermont-Ferrand. It seems 
impossible, while in the quiet streets of this town, to 
realise that we are so near the busy city of Clermont- 
Ferrand, active in many modern manufacturing in- 
dustries, a railway centre, in short, a distinctly twen- 
tieth century community. Geographically those few 
kilometres are only a step, bitt historically they will 
transport us four or five centuries. Here we are in 
an atmosphere not later than the sixteenth century, 
although for glass lovers the interest of the place 



goes back still another. The fifteenth century fea- 
ture which attracts us most in Eiom is the Ste. 
Chapelle, which now serves as the chapel for -fche 
Palais de Justice, through which we must pass to 
reach it. The practical hand of the altering archi- 
tect has fallen heavily upon this beautiful chapel. 
In 1822 he took away its lower part in order to gain 
room for the Court of Appeals which is just below. 
He graciously allowed the upper half to remain a 
chapel, but, of course, the introduction of a new 
floor at half the height of the original building caused 
the destruction of the lower portions of the seven fine 
windows. Each has four large lancets and is a re- 
markable example of the highly-developed canopy 
type of the middle of the fifteenth century. Upon 
these are displayed a great company of richly at- 
tired personages, affording us a rare opportunity to 
observe the dress of the upper classes of that day. 
The jewels, furs and other decorative details are not 
more minutely studied than are the architectural 
features of the canopies. Each figure holds in its 
hands a long paper scroll upon which there is writ- 
ing. These scrolls form a most effective and agree- 
able feature, and their use as a form of decoration 
was frequently seen during that century. It appears at 
its best in the Tree of Life rose in the south tran- 
sept at Carcassone. The four central panels at the 
bottom contain the donors, always an attractive de- 
tail if only they are modest in size and placing. We 


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should try to see these windows on a rainy or grey 
day. It must be remembered that we no longer view 
them from below as their artist originally intended, 
because the action of the architect in 1822 has 
broiight us up on a level with them. The chapel is 
so small and the windows so large that if the day 
is sunny we are not able to withdraw a sufficient dis- 
tance to readjust the perspective, and therefore a 
dull day, by softening the light, greatly increases 
their charm. 



Tire situation of this city is as beautiful as it is 
remarkable. Imagine a long, fertile plain from 
which rises suddenly a great range of hills. The 
plain is monotonously flat and the hills are abruptly 
steep, while higher than all their heights towers the 
round-topped mountain of Puy-de-D6me, which gives 
its name to this department of France. Nestling 
just below the hills, upon the extreme western edge 
of the level country, lies the vigorous and progressive 
city of Clermont-Ferrand, whose activities and com- 
merce are fed by roads leading in every direction 
across the broad expanse of the fertile district of 
Limagne. From the top of the cathedral tower the 
view is most striking and delightful. To the east, 
as far as the eye can reach, stretches out a long vista 
of cultivated fields, but when we turn to the west 
the change is positively startling. Hill is piled on 
hill and mountain on mountain, and all so near at 
hand as to make us feel that, with the naked eye, 
we can discern figures moving on the top of the Puy- 
de-D6me, whose knob-like crest towers proudly above 
its surrounding and supporting heights. There 



arc but few views like this in France, for it is rare 
to find so bold a range of hills rising so sharply from 
to wide a plain. 

After descending the many steps which take us 
back into Ihe cathedral, we shall soon be convinced 
that if most of the thirteenth century glass towns had 
not been so accessible to Paris, a visit to this cathe- 
dral must have been suggested in order to see the 
fine set of medallion windows that in the apse chapels 
form a screen of gleaming sombre colour all around 
the choir a screen so complete as to produce that 
effect of glistening caverns which we have found so 
beautiful in the glass of that century. Clermont- 
Ferrand was left off the thirteenth century list part- 
ly because of its distance from Paris, and partly be- 
cause, if that distance had been overcome, there are 
no other towns in its vicinity noteworthy for their 
thirteenth century glass. Now that we are consider- 
ing the glass of the fourteenth and fifteenth cen- 
turies, distance from Paris no longer proves an argu- 
ment against this visit, because that period cannot 
be seen unless one is willing to go far afield. Be 
sides, Clermont-Ferrand fits nicely into a series of 
towns rich in glass of these centuries, so we have every 
reason for the visit at this juncture. The cathedral 
is a noble example of Gothic, the spacious nave being 
separated from the choir by two transepts, each of 
which possesses a fine rose window of the fourteenth 
century with a gallery of small lancets below. These 



rose windows seem thrust too high up against the 
roof; in fact, if it were not for the row of lancets 
below, the effect would be unpleasant. This method 
of placing them in the wall is, however, in accord- 
ance with the best traditions of that time. The glass 
panels which go to make up the rose windows radiate 
in distinct lines from the centre. The lancets below 
the south rose are filled with diaper in rich colour, 
while across them, as if to bind them together, are 
drawn two bands of white rosettes. The lancets 
under the north rose have circles and spots of colour 
on a grisaille ground. Of the glass that once adorned 
the nave, practically nothing remains but the small 
roses at the tops of the windows, but these are quite 
attractive. It is to the choir that we must turn for 
the greatest charm of the interior. The sober rich- 
ness of the thirteenth century panels in the chapels 
below is admirably set off and accompanied by the 
well- lighted clerestory above. Around this clerestory 
appears a row of large fifteenth century figures in 
colour framed in canopies upon a background of 
grisaille quarries (diamond-shaped panes). Per- 
haps there is a little too much contrast between 
the figures and the quarries, but the effect is 
good and certainly the light is admitted in a 
more satisfactory way than at Chartres, where 
the monks, to secure more light, replaced the rich 
borders of the early choir clerestory windows by 
white glass. As seen from the nave or from the 


transepts, the choir is most pleasing, a warm half 
light below and a brilliant clerestory above. In the 
two easternmost panels of the latter the artist shows 
us how it was sometimes possible to make one large 
picture by the juxtaposition of two or more, which 
at first glance seem entirely distinct. On the left 
is the Virgin Mary in what appears to be a large oval 
frame. On the right, and facing her, is a bust of the 
Father emerging from clouds. Although at first these 
two panels seem entirely separate, a comparison of 
the subject of each indicates that taken together they 
form a picture of the Annunciation. This method 
was not uncommon. At Tours, three eastern medal- 
lions of the clerestory, although seemingly distinct, 
really combine to form the Last Supper. We should 
not fail to notice at Clermont-Ferrand how very har- 
moniously the styles of different centuries assist each 
other in producing a well-glazed interior. We do not 
find the conflict in effect which exists at Bourges. 
In f act, there are but few places where glass epochs 
are combined in such an attractively; unobtrusive 



WHEN from the top of Clermont-Ferrand Cathe- 
dral we viewed the mountains of the Puy-de-D6me 
range, it seemed not only that anyone planning a 
trip across them would have a difficult climb, but 
that any idea of going by train was an impossibility. 
Modern engineering skill, however, overcomes all 
obstacles, stops at nothing, and the railway awaits 
our command to take us over the mountains to Ey- 
moutiers and Limoges. The grades are so steep that 
no expresses are attempted and therefore we have 
before us a tedious five-hour trip on a way train. 
The first and the last parts of this journey are very 
delightful for the automobilist or bicyclist, because 
of the views revealed from time to time by the wind- 
ings of the road. More than half the trip, however, 
is quite uninteresting, as the way lies through clefts 
in the hills at too great an elevation for much foliage 
or verdure. When we descend to the village of Ey- 
moutiers on the other side of the mountains, all the 
difficulties and tedium of our climb will be forgotten. 
There the traveller will find a charming little inn 
by the river, where he can have a delicious repast 



of trout from the neighbouring mountain stream. 
He will be served on a cosy terrace, which is sheltered 
from the sun by vines and cooled by a tinkling foun- 
tain shooting into the air a slender spray of icy 
water. As a glass shrine, Eymoutiers is one of the 
most delightful that our pilgrim will meet on his 
travels and one to which his memory will often pleas- 
antly revert. He need not look about for a cathe- 
dral or for any great religious edifice. Instead, he 
will find a quaint, oddly-shaped church whose older 
western half is so dimly lighted by its few deeply- 
embrasured windows as to provide an excellent foil 
for the silvery light of the fourteen that illumine the 
eastern half. We cannot properly call it the choir 
end, because the church seems to have three choirs 
placed side by side, opening into each other, the 
central one extending a little more to the east than its 
two sisters. At the Ste. Chapolle in Paris we have 
observed that the decply-hued medallion windows of 
the thirteenth century wore not suited to a small in- 
terior that their materials and construction re- 
quired that they be viewed from the greater distance 
afforded within a cathedral in order to yield to the 
observer a properly combined glow from their warmth 
of colour. On the other hand, at Eymoutiers, wo 
shall learn that the canopy window is as beautiful in 
its soft lighting of a small interior as at Bourges it is 
appropriate in the lower windows of a great nave, 
or at Quimper in its delicate illumination of a splen- 



did clerestory. Before we have been long in the 
little Eymoutiers church we shall begin to notice that 
the later windows in the central eastern bay have 
much more colour than the earlier ones in the right 
and left ones. In these two side bays the figures have 
only one colour besides white in their costumes, and 
but one also in the backgrounds ; while on the other 
hand, in the central bay the figures have never less 
than two colours in their costumes ; and further, that 
besides the one in their backgrounds, an additional 
colour is there contributed by a curtain stretched 
across the niches, shoulder-high, behind the figures. 
Then, too, these later figures in the central bay 
have coloured halos, and the little ceilings under the 
canopies beneath which they stand are brightly 
tinted. The local authorities date the glazing of the 
central bay from the latter part of the fifteenth cen- 
tury and that of the two side ones from the middle. 
The difference in the colour schemes of the two sets 
confirms this dating. This same marked difference 
in the number of colours exists at Quimper, where 
the choir windows glazed in the first years of the fif- 
teenth century have but few tints, while, on the 
other hand, there are many in those of the nave which 
date from the latter part of that century. As accen- 
tuating this enrichment of the artistf s palette which 
the passage of time seemed to effect, it is noticeable 
that the early tracery lightings of the two side bays 
are very light ip tone, being mostly white or some 



faint hue or yellow stain, while the later traceries 
of the central bay contain deep reds and blues, etc. A 
close examination of these windows repays us by re- 
vealing several quaint manifestations of the strict 
adherence to tradition for which the mediaeval glass 
artists are noted. Contemporary conventions de- 
manded that St. Christopher have a tessellated pave- 
ment as the floor of his canopy, but the legend re- 
quires that he must stand in water, so we find not 
only the pavement but also upon it a semi-circular 
pool of water in which the saint stands. So, too, the 
Virgin Mary is poised upon a half moon-shaped cloud, 
neatly balanced on the conventional pavement. 
Though these little touches make us moderns smile, 
they were doubtless at the time approved as show- 
ing that the artist was well schooled. Our reader 
should make every effort to visit Eymoutiers, for 
there he will truly feel the delicate charm of the 
canopy window. The church is glazed throughout in 
one style and as a type of perfection will linger in 
his memory in much the same way as Ste. Foy at 
Conches, which we will visit later for its sixteenth 
century glass. The canopy window, when properly 
placed, yields a far softer beauty than any glass can 
show in the century before or the century that came 
after, and it is greatly to be regretted that so few of 
them survived the stress of those battle-troubled 

Before we start on our way over rolling hills to 


Limoges, we must not fail to observe in Eymoutiers 
a certain quaint custom of building distinctive of 
that town. The topmost story of almost all the dwell- 
ing-houses is not walled up on the street side. This 
open top floor is used to store fuel. Under the eaves 
there is a pulley by which the bundles of wood are 
pulled up from the street by a block and tackle and 
swung in under the roof. 



AFTEU a charming ride of fifty kilometres from 
Eymoutiers, we arrive at Limoges, sloping pictur- 
esquely up from the banks of the winding river 
A r ienne. We elsewhere set out our reasons for believ- 
ing that the Byzantine influence upon the beginnings 
of French art was first and most potently exercised 
at Limoges, the cradle of French enamel. After re- 
maining dormant for centuries, the enamellcr's art 
has again been quickened into life in its old home. 
Its younger sister, stained glass, however, never seems 
to have returned to its birthplace ; in fact, if it were 
not necessary to pass through Limoges on our way 
north from Eymoutiers, we would not have included 
it in this trip. While the cathedral contains some 
fourteenth century glass, it lacks sufficient quantity 
or quality to repay one coming from a distance to see 
it. From Eymoutiers our route takes us through 
Limoges, and what it can show of glass, we, like con- 
scientious pilgrims, must not fail to inspect. Now 
for the cathedra] ! Architecturally it is very satis- 
factory. Just inside the west door of the nave there 
is a finely-carved stone jube or arch, in fact so good 



is it that we shall not see a better except in the little 
church of La Madeleine at Troyes, or in St. Etienne- 
du-Mont in Paris. Around the clerestory of the choir 
are thirteen double lancet windows, presented in the 
fourteenth century by Bishop Pierre Rodier. Un- 
fortunately, only two of them (those of Ste. Valerie 
and St. Martial) are preserved intact, but the others 
have been so judiciously restored that we have a very 
good idea of how they originally looked. They con- 
sist of large coloured figures in canopies, surrounded, 
however, by too much grisaille. The revulsion from 
too little light in the preceding century sometimes 
produced the curse of too much in the fourteenth. 
This placing of subjects upon a light surface can- 
not help but cause an unpleasant contrast between its 
soft tone and the stronger colour of the figures. In 
the ambulatory chapels on the north side of the choir, 
there are two complete windows of this period, both 
of them grisaille with gay heraldic devices and col- 
oured borders. In one the light field is arranged in 
quarries (diamond-shaped spaces), each quarry hav- 
ing its own little border of colour; this is very un- 
usual. Here the contrast of rich tones and grisaille 
is not so disagreeable as in the clerestory. In the 
south transept is a large rose window containing con- 
ventional designs in red and blue, but no figures. Wo 
find the same objection to the placing of this window 
and to its construction that we did to the rose win- 
dows at Clermont-Ferrand : it is too high up and 



seems crowded against the roof, while its lines 
radiate so obviously from the centre as to make it 
resemble a wheel, whose spokes are too thick. The 
century before did well to have medallions placed 
around the central opening of its rose windows, for 
they gave the effect of a huge blossom and not the 
stiff look of a wheel. As we leave Limoges on our 
way to Poitiers we shall find, if we travel by automo- 
bile or bicycle, that the road along the Vienne, fol- 
lowing the picturesque windings of that charming 
river, is one of the most delightful in all France. 


UPON one of our thirteenth century pilgrimages 
the reader has already been taken to Poitiers (see 
page 47). Not only has he visited the cathedral 
and seen its glorious Crucifixion window, but he 
has also entered the smaller church of St. Eade- 
gonde to view the thirteenth century glass there. 
For the purpose of this trip he must again 
repair to the latter church to see a unique mani- 
festation of the effect produced by the new demand 
for more light, which is the most marked fea- 
ture of the taste in glass of the fourteenth century. 
The windows which we are now seeking arc the four 
in the north wall betAveen the north portal and the 
choir. They are undoubtedly interesting, but can 
hardly be called beautiful. In order to admit as much 
light as possible, the greater part of their surfaces 
is filled with light greenish-grey grisaille, whose de- 
sign is that of a number of circles, each circle im- 
pinging on the next. Scattered irregularly upon the 
grisaille are many small-sized personages in deep 
colour. Around the whole is a brilliant border. The 
contrast between the gay hues of the figures (and also 



of the border) and the light tone of the grisaille is 
not only too sharp to be pleasant, but it also destroys 
the harmonious ensemble which is the great charm 
in the early canopy window. It seems logical that 
the light-admitting canopy should be used as a frame 
for the richly-coloured figure which it encloses, but 
there is no artistic excuse for spotting light grisaille 
with sharply-outlined, strongly-toned figures, and 
then framing the whole by the harsh lines of a col- 
oured conventional border. At Bourges the beau- 
ties, of the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries can be 
seen at the same time, and each enjoyed, although for 
different reasons. Here at St. Eadegonde, however, 
the charming thirteenth century rose window above 
the north portal enjoys an easy victory over the 
glaring contrasts of its fourteenth century neigh- 
bours. The latter should be inspected because they 
are unique in their elaborate method of admitting 
light, but they point to a road which should not be 
followed. It is interesting to note that at the time 
of their construction these windows were very highly 
considered. There was no reason why they should 
not have been of the best, because this church has 
long benefited by the generosity of pilgrims to the 
tomb of the saint beneath its choir. Among these 
none was more devoted than Anne of Austria, the 
queen of Louis XIII. Nor is this shrine the only 
attraction to the pious which the church can boast, 
for in the south wall there is a small recess protected 



by an iron grille enclosing what is represented to 
be a footprint of Jesus Christ. This is still an ob- 
ject of much veneration. These facts must be taken 
into consideration, because a church to which crowds 
of votaries for centuries resorted would surely con- 
tain no glass inappropriate to the wealth and high 
standing of these pilgrims. In fact, a certain hall- 
mark is thus given its windows, which enables us by 
means of it to judge of the taste of the time* 



THESE is hardly a religious edifice in existence 
where so many periods of glass are represented by 
such uniformly good examples as in St. Maurice 
Cathedral at Angers. In a former visit (see 
page 55) we observed that its nave contains the 
greatest amount of twelfth century work which 
any French church can show and also that in 
its choir _and transepts there are many fine medal- 
lion windows of the thirteenth century. ]STow we 
will take up the really gorgeous fifteenth century 
glass, beginning with the two large west windows 
of the north transept. So elaborated and full 
of architectural detail are they that their canopies 
alone occupy more than half the entire window space. 
"We have generally seen the canopy used only as a 
frame, but here there is more frame than picture! 
Each of these two windows contains four niches en- 
closing brilliantly-hued figures, two in the lower half 
and two in the upper half of each window. The glass 
forming the canopy part is much deeper in tone than 
we have been accustomed to find, having a strong 
greenish shade similar to that found in many Eng- 
lish fourteenth century canopies (as, for example, 



those in New College Chapel, Oxford). We have 
noted before that English glass is generally more 
highly coloured in the fourteenth than in the fifteenth 
century, but the contrary is true in France, where 
the fourteenth is much softer in tone than that found 
in the next century. These windows provide a case 
in point. It is perhaps well that they are so strongly 
toned, for even as it is, they seem rather pale in 
comparison with the early medallion windows all 
around them. The embrasures which they fill were 
built in the thirteenth century and are therefore 
larger than those generally found in the fifteenth; 
the extremely strong saddle bars necessary to sup- 
port this great weight of glass are so noticeable to the 
observer that they seem to isolate the panels con- 
taining the figures and thus hurt the frame effect of 
the canopy. Perhaps the pilgrim will find this com- 
ment is hypercritical, for the windows are undoubt- 
edly very effective. They were given by Bishop 
Jean-Michel about 1-140. 

One is naturally curious to see the work done by 
an artist in his home town, for if not of his best, it is 
apt to be typical and show the influence which his 
natural environment exercised upon him. For this 
reason we turn with considerable interest to see what 
was accomplished by Andre Robin, when called in 
1452 to reglaze the rose windows of the transepts. 
The stone traceries had been constructed in the thir- 
teenth century, and though it is difficult to adapt 



later glass to earlier framework, the result liere has 
been very successful, much more so than, for ex- 
ample, in the case of the west rose of the Ste. 
Chapelle in Paris. In the north rose window Robin 
put the Resurrection. Christ is in the centre and 
from Him there radiate sixteen elongated panes 
bearing yellow and blue angels. The resurrected 
dead are shown in the act of pushing up the covers 
of their tombs, a conventional method of represent- 
ing them. Above are little scenes illustrating the oc- 
cupations of each month of the year. Upon the south 
rose there appear the signs of the zodiac, and below 
them the Elders of the Apocalypse. In these Elders 
we may trace a reference to the splendid set of 
Apocalpyse tapestries which hang around the in- 
terior. The most northerly window on the east side 
of the transept is also by Robin. The subject is 
the Crucifixion, and it was finished in 1499. In 
Angers there is yet another set of fifteenth century 
windows, and to see them we must go to the little 
church of St. Serge, in whose choir we have already 
studied the charming twelfth century grisaille. These 
windows are of the canopy type and are placed in the 
nave clerestory. There are three on each side, the 
two westerly ones being of three broad lancets each 
and the easterly one of two lancets. The colour con- 
trasts are good and the architecture in the canopy 
framing very convincing, both in size and adjust- 


the course of our former visit to Le Mans 
Cathedral (see page 60) we remarked that the tran- 
septs were glazed in the fifteenth century. The glass is 
good and the north rose is particularly well worth see- 
ing. Of the transepts themselves, it may be said that 
no others in all France are provided with windows in 
such a curiously irregular way, no two corresponding 
portions of wall having the same or even similar 
ones. There is no window at all in the south tran- 
sept end, but instead there is a solid wall against 
which the organ is backed. The west side of this 
transept has two very large windows with coloured 
borders framing grisaille, upon which are small 
circles and squares. On the east side the wall has 
even fewer openings. Crossing over to the north 
transept, we find still more irregular arrangement, 
there being a marked difference in amount of window 
space, as well as in the shape and adjustment be- 
tween the east and the west wall. There is, however, 
a distinct improvement over the south transept in 
that here there are canopy windows and that, too, 
of no ordinary type. But it is to the north end of this 



transept that we must turn to have our admiration as 
well as our interest thoroughly aroused. The writer 
believes this to be the finest example of a rose win- 
dow, blossoming out at the top of a well-adjusted 
group of lancets, that the fifteenth century can afford. 
At Clermont-Ferrand and Limoges we have noticed 
that the tendency at that time was to crowd the rose 
up too high against the roof and then try to counter- 
act the effect by placing beneath it a row of lancets 
to bring down the whole group. At Le Mans the ad- 
justment in the wall is perfect. Further, the lower 
range of windows is treated with the respect it de- 
serves, for not only is the rose beautifully glazed, but 
the lancets have also received the artist's careful at- 
tention : they are graceful, good-sized and filled with 
a triple tier of excellent canopied figures. The rose 
is poised above and between the points of two wide 
lancet windows, each of which is in turn divided per- 
pendicularly by mullions. The subject, The Crown- 
ing of the Virgin, is admirably treated, and noth- 
ing could be more delightful than the numerous 
angels singing and playing upon various musical in- 
struments.^ For the honour of the fifteenth century 
glazier it is well that we should see this splendid ef- 
fect, because we might otherwise conclude that, not- 
withstanding his brilliant success in producing canopy 
panels, he never grasped the full possibilities of the 
i;ose window. 



route from Le Mans to Sees we must pass di- 
rectly through Alengon, famous for its lace, and espe- 
cially for the sort known as Point d'Alengon. If en 
automobile we should stop here long enough to see 
the Renaissance glass in the church of ISTotre Dame. 
Although of a later period than that which we are 
now considering, we must not be so narrow-minded 
as to deliberately pass by fine glass, no matter when 
it was made. The exterior of Notre Dame struck the 
writer as curiously emblematic of the impression 
which one receives of the town. The church is squat 
and ugly, but it is redeemed by the lacelike Gothic 
of its western porch, which, fearful lest it be not re- 
marked, thrusts itself out into the street. In similar 
fashion, Alenon as a town has its commonplaceness 
condoned by reason of the beauty of its lace, a beauty 
which is constantly thrust upon your attention by 
its inhabitants. The glass to be noticed is around 
the nave clerestory. A most charming stone setting 
is provided for this sixteenth century glazing by the 
broad and high embrasures of six lancets each. Par- 
ticularly note how, at the top of eaxsh sheaf of lancets, 



the delicate lines of the traceries flow upward and in- 
ward like flames aspiring from a broad-based fire, 
seeking the outlet above of a narrow chimney. The 
picture period is here at its best, and the artist, re- 
gardless of the upright stone mullions, has spread his 
subject across all the lancets of each embrasure, and 
has lavished upon them all the shades of his richly 
stocked palette. Over the west portal we have the 
same shape of window, but here it is broader and per- 
mits of eight lancets. The subject is the well-worn 
one of Jesse and his descendants, but the design is 
distinctly novel, and an unusual amount of green 
foliage against a blue background lends a pleasant 
tone to the picture. The descendants are relegated 
to the upper panes, while the major portion of the 
great surface is divided equally between Jesse (on 
the right) and a large panel enclosing the scene of 
the Saviour's birth (on the left). Of the rest of 
the glass in this church it is kindly comment to say 
that it is unsatisfactory. 

But let us push on to Sees, 20 kilometres further. 
One reads but little of the cathedral there, and more's 
the pity, because from any point of view it is not only 
admirable, but picturesquely delightful. Placed upon 
a slight eminence in the midst of a wide basin, this 
elevation suffices to make it visible from a long dis- 
tance on every side. Its gracefully aspiring twiu 
spires, its mantle of flying buttresses, the charming 
conformation of its eastern end, all conspire to allure 


us and fill us with expectations of what a nearer view 
may reveal. Nor does the interior fail to realise all 
this distant promise. What a graceful lightness of 
stonework is everywhere visible, supplemented by the 
glazier's intelligent delicacy of touch. The nave 
alone lacks its ancient glass. Nowhere in France or 
elsewhere can the fourteenth century glass artist be 
seen to greater advantage than at S6es. Very happy 
is the way in which his light-admitting grisaille has 
been enlivened and decorated by coloured borders 
and bands of richly-toned, canopy-framed figures. 
At Evreux we will find him more splendid, more 
varied, but here, around the choir and the transepts, 
he has worked out more consistently, more coherent- 
ly, his new idea of combining translucence and colour 
decoration. Dainty, almost dangerously fragile as is 
the stonework that supports the upper windows, the 
glazier's handiwork is daintier still a film of soft 
grisaille held in a spider's web of lead lines, whilst 
across the middle third are bands of early canopies. 
Not only in the clerestory of choir and transepts, but 
also in the choir chapels below, do we find this treat- 
ment uniformly carried out. The completeness of 
the scheme of decoration, as well as the satisfactory 
adjustment of colour to grisaille, give an ensemble 
J which we elsewhere seek in vain. Not satisfied with 
the illumination provided by his airy clerestory, the 
architect has pierced his triforium gallery through- 
out. In this lower tier there has been no attempt to 


introduce figures, the glazier having contented him- 
self with surrounding his grisaille by decorated bor- 
ders. The only exception to this rule is where the 
triforium gallery passes below the lovely rosaces- that 
decorate the transept ends there, in each case, the 
row of ten lancets is filled, alas ! with modern glass 
whose thin tones betray it at once. Fortunately one 
is too much absorbed in looking at the great roses 
above to notice them very intently. So high up are 
these rosaces in their respective walls that the arch- 
ing of the ceiling actually passes in front of their 
upper corners. That in the south transept is a wheel 
window with medallions in the ends of the spokes, 
but instead of the rest of the openings being glazed in 
grisaille (as at Rouen Cathedral), colour is here used 
throughout. Very different is the north transept 
rose, from the centre of which six broad arms diverge, 
separating groups of blossom-like apertures. The 
colour is good, but would have been better had there 
been omitted the white borders that make the coloured 
panels seem about to start from their sockets. The 
luminous effectiveness of the interior is utilised and 
accentuated by the placing of the double-faced altar 
on a raised platform in the middle of the cross- 
ing where the transepts can contribute to its glory 
equally with the choir. The high altar carries off the 
unusual honour of this central position with great 
dignity and success. 

So much are we seized and held by the charm of 


the general effect that we are not tempted, as is so 
often the case elsewhere, to solace ourselves with 
spelling out quaint details in individual windows. 
Nevertheless, that form of research is here well worth 
while. Three times on the south side of the choir 
clerestory and again in the second choir chapel on the 
left, do we find the donors, ingenuously holding in 
their uplifted hands small models of their gift win- 
dows. Several times we will note two canopy panels 
whose stories must be read together, as for example 
in the first choir chapel on the right, where a mounted 
man in armour is piercing with his spear the side 
of the crucified Christ in the next panel to the right. 
Interesting as are these and many ether similar de- 
tails, it is the softly tinted illumination of the whole 
interior, more than any particular feature, that 
makes us remember Sees Cathedral as one of the most 
satisfactory French examples of fourteenth century 



before one reaches Verneuil lie remarks a 
great tower looming high above the surrounding 
house-tops, a tower so commanding as to seem to 
beckon us from afar, and then later when we have 
reached its foot, to make us halt awhile in its shadow 
to enjoy the innumerable delicate details of its archi- 
tecture, which render a near view as delightful as the 
distant prospect is imperious. It is not often in 
France that one sees so striking a landmark, which 
must have been vastly more significant still in those 
battleworn years of the middle ages when Verneuil 
was for so long an important post on the frontier be- 
tween France and the territory held by the English. 
There may still be seen one of the massive round 
towers of the ancient fortifications, its great size bear- 
ing witness to the importance attached to the pos- 
session and defence of the city. Nor is Verneuil 
lacking in other and more homely charms, for it pre- 
serves many of its old timbered houses ; as well as 
others of stone and brick decorated at one corner by 
a gracefully carved tourelle. On making our way 
to the centre of the town we find that the great tower 



belongs to the church of La Madeleine, which occu- 
pies one end of the spacious market-place. No more 
ill-assorted collection of incongruous elements were 
ever found in one edifice. The lofty uplift of the 
choir and transepts rises so much above the low roof- 
tree of the nave, that viewed from a little distance, 
there seems no connecting link between the eastern 
portion of the church and the great tower at the west- 
ern end. The transepts are so short as to extend but 
little beyond the sides of the choir, and furthermore 
there are two sets of transepts, side by side, and 
opening into each other. It is to the eastern and 
loftier part of the edifice that we must repair. Here 
about the choir and the two parallel chapels that ad- 
join it are a dozen windows containing fifteenth cen- 
tury canopies, mostly arranged in two tiers, one above 
the other. Note that it is groups rather than single 
figures that appear within the enframing niches, and 
that the stories told by these panels are more elabo- 
rate, even if less effective than their grander contem- 
poraries in the transepts. These latter are fine tall- 
pinnacled examples, each canopy enclosing a single 
figure, and are found in three of the four great em- 
brasures that light the end walls of the transepts. 
The fourth contains Renaissance canopies. Through- 
out all this fifteenth century glass the deepness of the 
tones used in the figures within the niches is most 

There are also several sixteenth century windows, 


the most noteworthy one being a Tree of Jesse in 
the east end of the southerly chapel. A large figure 
of the Virgin holding the Infant Jesus is shown 
standing on the vine just at the point where the 
branches separate. Jesse's descendants, drawn to a 
smaller scale, are emerging from blossoms all about 
the Virgin, whom they are intently regarding. 

Although the fifteenth century glass in La Mad& 
leine is not so splendid as some we have seen else- 
where, it is in such quantity and variety as to af-' 
ford valuable facilities for comparison and study. 
There is also good glass to be seen in the church of 
Notre Dame. The picturesque old-world flavour of 
Verneuil will perhaps make it a greater favourite 
with us than some towns possessing more important 

On leaving Verneuil, whether we decide to re- 
turn to Paris via Chartres, or to link this trip on to 
the next by passing directly to Evreux and thence 
to Rouen, we may, by means of a slight detour, go 
through Nonancourt. If we do, we should delay 
there long enough to enter the church to see the low 
fifteenth century windows along the nave aisles, as 
well as the larger Renaissance ones that stretch in a 
long row around the whole length of the clerestory. 
It will be worth the few additional kilometres to the 
automobilist, although hardly demanding the break- 
ing of a railway journey. 



BESIDES its wondrous cathedral, Chartres has an- 
other though a more modest sanctuary which also 
possesses its original glazing almost intact. This is 
the church of St. Pierre, a unique example of the 
glazier's attempt to meet the objection of light ob- 
struction charged against the thirteenth century mo- 
saic method. His treatment of the clerestory lights is 
of peculiar interest. There are no transepts. Around 
the clerestory each window is divided perpendicular- 
ly in half, one side being glazed in colour and the 
other in soft grisaille. The only difference in the 
nave clerestory is that there each window is divided 
perpendicularly into three instead of two, the mid- 
dle division in each case containing colour work and 
the two outside ones, grisaille. This method of 
glazing, plus the fact that the triforium is pierced, 
produces the desired amount of illumination within, 
but one can hardly say that it is produced in an al- 
together satisfactory manner. It is inevitable that 
this sandwiching of strips of colour between others 
of grisaille should reduce the value of the tints 
and dull their glow. The effect is very strange 
it is as if tall shutters of dark hue had been pre- 


pared for grisaille windows, but that these shutters 
had only been put up on one side of each. Whether 
one admires it or not, the method is novel, and worth 
examining. The new demand for more light has 
been met, but we have not yet reached the perfection 
of church illumination. For this we must wait until 
the fully elaborated canopy panels of the fifteenth 
century, for in those the glazier hit upon just the 
right proportion of colour and translucency by means 
of convincingly complete designs containing no jar- 
ring contrasts. It is well if one defers this inspec- 
tion of St. Pierre, and does not go to it straight from 
the sombre glories of the cathedral. Such an imme- 
diate comparison will render it difficult to realise 
what an agreeable experience the smaller edifice af- 
fords for the student of glass (see page 67). 

Do not fail to go into the Lady Chapel to see the 
delightful set of twelve enamels representing the 
Apostles, by many considered the chef d'oeuvre of 
the master of that craft, Leonard Limousin. They 
are remarkable not only for their delicious combi- 
nation of tones and shades, but also for their un- 
usually large size (two feet high by one foot broad). 
One is not surprised at the great care everywhere ap- 
parent in their workmanship when one learns that 
they were ordered by Francis I, who, however, did 
not live to see them finished. His son, Henry II, 
presented them to Diane de Poitiers for her Chateau 



Before leaving St. Pierre, observe how excellent- 
ly the architect adjusted the relative heights of the 
bays, triforium and clerestory; so graceful is the re- 
sult that we depart with the impression of an edifice 
of unusually agreeable proportions. 



FAB off in the western corner of France dwells 
that strange race, the Bretons. Leave behind you 
Paris, the standard-bearer of things modern, and set 
out for distant Quimper, the westernmost outpost 
of French glass. You will find yourself in the 
midst of a curious folk whose origin is unknown, in 
a bleak country where over a million people speak an 
uncouth Celtic tongue utterly unlike French; where 
customs, handed down from father to son, persist for 
centuries ; where modern costume is ignored and the 
peasant glories in his bright blue and gold jacket 
adorned with glittering buttons. You have even 
passed beyond the fabled forest of Broceliande, where 
Vivien held the great Merlin by her magic spell. 

Quimper must be visited for its own sake because 
there are no neighbouring glass towns. Long as is the 
journey, it is safe to say that you will be repaid for 
its discomforts. Arrive, if you can, on a Sunday. 
The roomy interior of the cathedral is quite as at- 
tractive as the elaborate Gothic detail outside has 
promised. Here during service, perhaps more than 
anywhere else in France, will the middle ages seem 


to you still to be lingering on. No stiff rows of pews 
obtrude their modern convenience upon your notice. 
You will find the great church filled with group upon 
group of Breton men and women sitting on rude rush- 
bottomed chairs, the men in their gay attire and the 
women wearing quaint white caps which vary slight- 
ly in each little village or commune. All this serves 
to take us back into feudal times; we sink into a 
seat and observe the intense interest with which our 
neighbours are following the ringing exhortations of 
the priest, couched in homely phrases, quite like the 
discourse which his predecessors in the fifteenth cen- 
tury preached from the same pulpit to a very similar 
audience. Our mood becomes so medieval as to 
almost make the ancient stained glass seem contem- 
porary. It is a pleasant thought that the series of 
canopy windows made for the choir clerestory in 1417 
by Jamin Sohier should have been continued and 
carried along the clerestory of the nave and tran- 
septs by his son, also named Jamin Sohier, towards 
the end of the same century. One of these later one* 
near the west front bears the date 1496. Some of 
those in the nave were sadly injured by the stress of 
time, and a few altogether destroyed ; but they have 
been repaired and replaced most successfully, pious 
care having been taken to restore them as nearly n* 
possible to their original condition. This was done 
during the years 1867 to 1874 by M. Lu<?on at the 
expense of the State. The nave windows of the 



younger Solder are much more brilliant, both in rich- 
ness and in variety of colours, than the earlier choir 
windows of his father. The gradual development of 
the verre double (or double sheets of glass) placed 
a greater variety of tints at the disposal of the ar- 
tist, and he eagerly took advantage of his enriched 
palette. By comparing the choir panels with the 
later ones of the nave, we have here an excellent op- 
portunity to study the development of the canopy 
window. We cannot help but feel that although the 
earlier ones lack the brilliancy and glow which char- 
acterise those constructed later, this lack is more 
than balanced by the delicious softness of the light 
which they transmit. It is interesting to observe how 
many of them set forth the legend of St. Christo- 
pher. Do not fail to notice the skillful contrast of a 
strong yellow with a rich green of which the east 
windows of the north transept provide several ex- 
cellent examples. 

There is a striking peculiarity in the ground plan 
of this church. The choir is not upon the same axis 
as the nave, but inclines at quite an angle to the 
north. This peculiarity also exists in one or two 
other French churches, and tile local authorities al- 
ways delight to tell you that it is a form of Gothic 
symbolism intended to represent the drooping to one 
side of the Saviour's head on the Cross. When the 
true explanation is discovered, it generally proves to 
be of a more practical nature. The same slant to 



the north is observable in the choir of Saint Jean, at 
Troyes ; there it was caused by the fact that the street 
line on the south side of the choir had to be pushed 
northward after the great fire of 1524. At Quim- 
per the explanation is even more interesting. In 
1239 Bishop Eaynaud wished to add to his cathe- 
dral the chapel of Notre Dame (founded in 1028 by 
the Count of Cornoucilles) which stood a little to the 
east and was across a small street. He extended his 
choir so as to take in the chapel ; but as ii, lay a little 
to the north of the true easterly line, h<5 had to slant 
his choir to effect his purpose. This explanation may 
not be poetically symbolical, but it is historically ac- 




WE have now reached the perfected period of 
stained glass, by some called the Renaissance, and 
by others the Cinque-cento. The latter affords a 
graceful recognition of Italian inspiration in the re- 
vival of French art at the beginning of the sixteenth 
century. By this time the reader will have appre- 
ciated the truth of the statement in our introduction 
that stained glass saves us the trouble of dividing it 
into periods, because it falls of itself into divisions 
whose boundaries, oddly enough, coincide approxi- 
mately with those of the centuries. This was hereto- 
fore illustrated when the canopy window appeared 
upon the scene and caused the abrupt change from 
the aombre glittering tones of the thirteenth century 
to the light-admitting silvery-grey glass of the four- 
teenth. Now we are about to see how another change 
came at the end of the fifteenth century, when the 
Renaissance sprang full-grown, not Minerva-like 
from the brows of Jove, but from those of Mars, the 
God of War, for it was the Italian wars of Louis 
XII and Francis I that brought about this sudden 
regeneration of all branches of French art. What 



the French soldiers saw in Italy they remembered 
and told at home, and, moreover, many of their 
trophies bore witness to the wonderful development 
then reached by Italian art. The fact that after sev- 
eial centuries French territory was at last relieved 
from distress of war naturally resulted in a sudden 
interest in building of all sorts. Because of this, 
architecture was among the first of the arts to be af- 
fected by the new Italian taste. We have before 
noticed the inter-relation of the needs and styles of 
the architect with those of the glass artist, and there- 
fore we are not surprised to find oiir windows testi- 
fying that the latter quickly perceived Gothic 
architecture was being superseded by the classic 
style. During the last two centuries he had grown 
to appreciate more and more the light-admitting ad- 
vantages of the canopy window, but now he changes 
the simulated architecture from Gothic to Renais- 
sance. In his designs we notice an even more im- 
portant change, which results from the fact that ho 
now enjoys a good working knowledge of the la\v,s 
of perspective and hastens to avail himself of it in 
order to lend greater depth to his picture. Indeed, 
in some instances, he carried the use of perspective 
almost to an abuse. His predecessors in the twelfth 
and thirteenth centuries knew nothing of these rules, 
which, indeed, were then unknown in every art. On 
our way down through the fourteenth and fifteenth 
centuries, because most of the windows arc either 



canopy, or grisaille surcharged with figures, we are 
by their very nature denied an opportunity to ob- 
serve the same gradual development of perspective 
which was contemporaneously taking place in paint- 
ing. The result is that when in the sixteenth cen- 
tury the glass artist decided to branch out from the 
conventional canopy style and indulge his taste in 
the more ambitious effort of the picture window, the 
sudden change from no perspective to an abundance 
is all the more noticeable. During the fourteenth 
and fifteenth centuries the only hint obtainable of 
an increasing interest in perspective was when we 
noticed that fifteenth century canopies were more 
elaborate than those of the fourteenth, not only be- 
cause they had much more intricate pinnacles, but 
also by reason of the curtains hanging in the back 
of the niches, and othor details showing attempts 
to gain depth in the picture. In his large picture 
windows the sixteenth century artist also has morn 
chance to show us how greatly the discovery of 
enamelling on glass has enriched his palette. Dur- 
ing the two preceding centuries his development of 
verre double (or glass in double layers) has been 
yielding a constantly increasing variety of hues in 
the costumes of his personages, backgrounds, etc. ; 
but now he adds his brilliant enamels and fairly 
riots in colour. 

We shall often have occasion to deplore that the 
glazier of the Renaissance never truly grasped the 



full artistic possibilities of the black outlines ready to 
his hand in the leads, and that he failed to realise, 
as did his predecessors, that the more the drawing 
was executed by the leads the more attractive and 
convincing the resulting picture would be. Towards 
the end of this epoch this disregard for their use- 
fulness in the design was often carried to such an 
extreme that one concludes the artist must have re- 
garded them as of no service except to hold the ^lass 
in position. Some of the men who indulged most 
in enamel painting became so engrossed in this form 
of decorating glass as to consider the leads an in- 
trusion, and as tending to reduce the size of the 
sheets, which they preferred should bo of large size 
in order to facilitate the painting thereon of their 

To recapitiilate, the most noticeable features of 
the now regime are then 

(a) Renaissance architecture depicted instead of 

(&) Larger scenes. 

(c) Use of perspective. 

(df) Greatly increased diversity of colour. 

(e) Use of enamel painting. 

(f) Increasing carelessness in use of leads. 
Not only does Eenaissance architecture supersede 

the older Gothic on our windows, but it very natural- 
ly brings with it certain characteristics of the new 
architect. For example, because he generally placed 



rifnte^tttre deputed HOW entirety Kent twetf tie 
afave, iwuh \trttplijficdi lend art t\t more rootr f 
. X* line*, now war the ^tt-titre^ instead ttj only Drnnvtittr greatly perfected , ttafe the ?,*.<,eUeni 
tfiifig, the "ifoftfou Tottyne\^ etc Kneeling donors are not 
to** trtrgi fatt intrude it flow the sit&fe<.t* (wSV<'/rt^" -?,V7> 


the date conspicuously upon his edifice, so in Renais- 
sance glass we find the glazier introducing the date 
upon some panel of the simulated architecture. Be- 
fore this time, windows were seldom dated; now 
this custom soon became firmly established and vari- 
ous methods for it were devised. In the parish 
church at Les Iffs, in Brittany, the west panel of the 
small chapel on the south side of the choir bears its 
date upon a gold coin held by one of the figures. 
The writer remembers this well, because, finding no 
date, it struck him that it inight be on the coin. He 
piled three chairs, one on top of the other, climbed 
up, and there it was. Immediately after the dis- 
covery, the chairs fell clown! 

Notwithstanding the richness which the artist's 
palette has attained, we occasionally meet an in- 
dication that he has not forgotten the cool silvery- 
grey formerly yielded by the canopy window. He 
now sought to obtain the same result in. another 
fashion by occasionally restricting the colour of a 
picture window to various shades of grey (or very 
light brown), relieved by flesh tints where needed, 
and enlivened by touches of yellow stain. We some- 
times find a church glazed throughout in this stylo, 
as, for example, St. Pantaloon at Troyes. It was, 
however, chiefly used iu smaller edifices and for 
domestic or civil purposes. This particular mani- 
festation of sixteenth century style outlived most of 
its contemporaries and is found as late as the end 



of the next century. By this last observation we arc 
naturally led to comment upon the almost complete 
collapse of the cult of stained glass that came at the 
end of this century. People seemed to no longer 
care for it, although it had for more than four hun- 
dred years been so highly esteemed. We read of 
many instances of artists who had no orders for work 
and therefore had to turn their talents into other 
channels. That master of so many arts, Bernard 
Palissy, writing at the end of the century, tells us 
that so completely had the sale of glass fallen into 
disrepute that it was then hawked about from village 
to village by those who sold old clothes and old iron, 
and that although the art was a noble one, many of 
its practitioners found it difficult to get enough to 
live upon. For this passing of interest there huvo 
been many reasons advanced, but perhaps the most 
convincing is that of surfeit. Certain it is that an 
Enormous quantity of stained glass was produced 
during the sixteenth century, much of which has 
survived. Of course, in some quarters the cult lasted 
longer than in others, but then it is generally trace- 
able to the existence there of a peculiarly gifted 
group of glass artists. We shall find this true at 
Troycs, where the skill and fame of Linard Gonthier 
and his school produced such a demand for their 
work as to cause the art in that locality to survive 
far into the seventeenth century. 
While it is true that during the sixteenth cen- 


tury glass reached its highest perfection, it is 
but natural that on the way up it should have 
outgrown many of the indications of craft tradi- 
tion which we have from time to time no- 
ticed. The perfected picture no longer needed cer- 
tain conventional signs to tell its story. Perspec- 
tive and improved drawing obviated the need of 
them. There are, however, several instances which 
show that even the sixteenth century artist felt the 
charm of cpaintness, though to a lessor degree than 
his predecessors. For example, a window in Caudc- 
bec Cathedral (the Passage of the Red Sea by the 
Israelites) lakes pains to identify the sea by having 
the waves glared in red ! Though he had discarded 
most of the conventions, ho retained and much beau- 
tified a few of them. For example, in Tree of Jesse 
windows, he far outstripped the older schools in 
grace and elaboration of treatment As an indica- 
tion of the interest felt in allegory by the later men 
we must invite attention to the so-called "Wine 
Press" window. Hero we have the same branching 
vine found in the Tree of Jesse, but in this case it 
spring's from the wounded Christ, who is being 
bruised in the press (or sometimes from His pressed- 
out blood), and spreads out over the panes, bearing 
as its blossoms 'saints, apostles or historical person- 
ages. In a few instances it rises from the, wine 
pressed by Christ from the grapes. Windows of this 
type are to be seen at Conches, at Troyes and many 


other places, but nowhere is the idea so elaborated 
as at St. Etienne-du-Mont in Paris. Sometimes the 
heads displayed on the vines indicate another tend- 
ency of this century, which can be particularly 
noted in the last cited window (by Pinaigrier) 
and in Engrand Le Prince's Tree of Jesse at St. 
Etienne (Beauvais). In these two the heads prove 
to be accurate portraits of contemporary royalties 
and church dignitaries, a fashion then much affected 
and highly esteemed. Another evidence of this same 
tendency to add personal touches is shown in the 
greatly increased use of armorial bearings, not only 
serving as the sole decorations of a panel, but also 
appearing upon picture subjects. These coats of 
arms are not only agreeable in effect, but also by 
their heraldry are very useful in fixing dates. Many 
of these armorial bearings were, however, destroyed 
after the edict of 1792, forbidding their use. Most 
sixteenth century windows boar the donor's figure, 
nor shall we find excessive modesty shown by the 
man who paid the price. In this connection it is 
interesting to note that although stained glass has al- 
ways been very expensive, strangely enough the ex- 
pense has remained practically constant throughout 
all its history, providing, of course, one takes into 
consideration the varying purchasing power of 
money. In fact, the cost thus corrected varies so 
little from epoch to epoch as to be positively sur- 
prising. When we consider how costly was a gift 


of this sort, perhaps it is not extraordinary that, 
during the sixteenth century, we generally find 
upon it the givers' portraits ; the wonder is that the 
custom was not more widely spread before. Unfor- 
tunately, the donor was now more aggressive than his 
predecessors, for often the figure is not only too 
1 large, but actually intrudes upon the subject of the 
window. Frequently not content to appear alone, 
he had the portraits of several of his family added 
as well. 

Before we make our selection of towns to be vis- 
ited, let us look about us in Paris, for it has not a 
little glass to show us. 



BEFORE starting on our thirteenth century tours, 
Paris supplied us with very useful results from our 
comparison of the glass in the Ste. Ohapelle with 
that of the north rose at Notre Dame. Wot so sat- 
isfactory was our study of the fifteenth century 
canopy windows at St. Severin in that city. We 
shall, however, find excellent sixteenth century glass 
in several of the Paris churches, and will thus be 
afforded an opportunity to prepare for our excursions 
by obtaining in advance some idea of the style of 
that period, and shall also find some examples by 
its best artists. Let us begin at St. Germain 1'Auxer- 
rois, whose charmingly light tower and graceful 
exterior seem to give the lie to the sinister fact that 
from this very belfry rang out the signal for the 
massacre of St. Bartholomew. The west wall of the 
north transept provides a reason for here beginning 
our study of sixteenth century glass, because there, 
side by side, are two very similar windows, harmonis- 
ing agreeably one with the other, and yet the archi- 
tecture of the canopies of one is fifteenth century 
Gothic, and of the other, Renaissance. This very 


conveniently illustrates for us one of the marked 
changes which came over our glass* If the canopies 
were not enough to date them, other details are not 
lacking to perform that service. The earlier win- 
dow has all the features of the distant landscape put 
in with the leads, while in the later one they are deli- 
cately painted on greyish blue; especially note this 
in the well scene. The other windows in this tran- 
sept are also attractive and the warmth of some of 
the reds in the bed draperies of the earlier one of 
the pair just mentioned should be noticed. The ad- 
justing of the figures to their panes in the transept 
rose windows is adroitly handled, particularly some 
of the kneeling angels in the south one. In the west 
wall of the south transept, the problem of placing a 
central figure when the architect provided only four, 
instead of five lancets, is gracefully overcome. 

At St. Gervais we have one of the few opportuni- 
ties to compare two of the greatest artists produced 
by the new school Robert Pinaigrier and Jean 
Cousin but that is about all that can be said for 
this ugly church, where architecture, white windows 
and modern glass combine to drive away the student. 
The best window is by Pinaigrier, the Judgment of 
Solomon (second on the right in the choir chapels) ; 
it is dated 1531, and although considered by many 
his masterpiece, seems to us to have too much marble 
pavement, etc., for its personages; and further, the 
little scenes in the tracery lights contrast disagreeably 



not only with the picture below, but also with its 
minarets and their sky background which jut up into 
the space above. We must, however, note how the 
accurate perspective contributed by the lines of the 
pavement and the distant architecture facilitates the 
correct stationing of the figures without confusing 
them as to position or foreshortening. His, also, are 
the twelve panels in the Lady Chapel, giving scenes 
from the life of the Virgin Mary: here the compo- 
sition is delightful. We may remark in passing 
that at least one of them displays verses which by 
reason of their quaint expressions are less suited to 
our times than to the more unrestrained speech of 
those earlier days. Jean Cousin's window, the 
Martyrdom of St. Lawrence (1551), is the first on 
the right in the choir, and though good in technique, 
is not attractive. We should reserve judgment upon 
his work until after we have visited Vincennes. 
Across the river and at the top of the hill crowned 
by the Pantheon is to be found an edifice that looks 
more like an architectural freak than a church St. 
Etienne-du-Mont. It seems to realise its own ugli- 
ness and tries to conceal itself behind the Pantheon. 
Once we enter its portal we find a vast improvement 
over the distressing exterior of this confection of 
stone. There are plenty of spacious windows and a 
general airy effect. Swung high in the air across 
the front of the choir is a graceful stone jube arch, 
seemingly fastened to the columns at each end by 


double loops of delicate spiral stairways. The choir 
is so lightly constructed, and with so few obstructing 
columns, that the whole of the ambulatory space be- 
comes a part of it. This arrangement enables us to 
enjoy the glazing of the ambulatory and the choir 
chapels from all parts of the building. A little 
door marked "Sacristie" leads off from the ambula- 
tory through a corridor to the Chapel of the Cate- 
chism. Along the west wall of this chapel are ranged 
a series of twelve panels by Pinaigrier, and be- 
cause they are on the level of the observers eye, he 
is afforded every facility for examining what could 
be accomplished by a great artist in enamelling 
colour on glass. In fact, there is no place in France 
where this can be more conveniently studied. Al- 
though all twelve are fine, that devoted to the allegory 
of the wine press is easily the best. Oddly enough, 
it was the gift of a rich wine merchant. In it are to 
be found faithful portraits of Pope Paul II, Em- 
peror Charles V, Francis I, and Henry VIII of 
England, as well as sundry cardinals and archbish- 
ops, all in rich ceremonial costume. Needless to 
say, those individuals have nothing to do with the 
subject of the window, but the opportunity to display 
portraits of them was too good for the artist to 
waste. This frequently appears on glass of the pe- 
riod and sometimes the result verges on the ludi- 

After visiting these stately temples, the quiet 


church of St. Merri appears even more modest and 
retiring than its obscure site just off the busy quar- 
ter about the Hotel De Ville really renders it. In 
fact, so well is it hidden that we would have missed 
it had we not been seeking very carefully. The win- 
dows here are more interesting than beautiful and 
their effectiveness has been impaired in several ways. 
We read that during the eighteenth century those in 
charge of the church, after careful deliberation, re- 
placed a great deal of the coloured by white glass, 
especially in the nave, where they removed the two 
central lancets of each group of four, leaving only 
the upper half of the two outer ones. Of course, the 
result was not only disastrous to the window's gen- 
eral effect, but entirely extinguishes any warmth 
of tone in such glass as remains. We cannot but de- 
plore the absence of the abstracted panes, for the re- 
mains in the side lancets and tracery lights evidence 
such skill, as well in combination of tones as in 
drawing (more particularly in the handling of per- 
spective), that one can readily imagine what harm 
has been done. Even the few scenes that are left 
are well worth inspection, and are as interesting as 
any of this epoch in Paris. Notice in the third win- 
dow on the right, the way in which the landscape 
is carried back until it ends in a little red-topped 
tower, from which peer out two heads. Fortunately, 
these deliberate and painstaking vandals spared the 
glass in the three westerly windows on each side of 



the choir, and also in the eastern walls of the tran- 
septs. The panels on the left, showing the history of 
Joseph, are better than their neighbours across the 

Of the sixteenth century glass to be seen in Paris, 
this much can be said : it varies markedly, illustrates 
most of the types of that time, and is therefore very 
useful in preparing us for the tours we are about to 



WE shall have to approach the subject of viewing 
sixteenth century glass in a very different spirit from 
that in which we undertook the tours of the pre- 
ceding centuries. We can no longer set up any claim 
to thoroughness. If our pilgrim visited all the places 
recommended in our thirteenth century excursions, 
as well as those for the fourteenth and fifteenth cen- 
turies, he can rest with the comfortable assurance 
that he has seen about all of the really good glass of 
those periods. Now we have a different problem. 
There has survived a great deal more glass from the 
sixteenth century than from all the preceding ones 
combined. He cannot hope to see it all, and we 
will have to limit ourselves to sketching out for him 
three tours covering the best supplementing these 
by several detached cities, so that if the glass hunter 
happens in their neighbourhood he will not overlook 
them. He will find, however, some compensations 
for ihe bewilderment caused by the great quantity of 
sixteenth century glass, the chief of which is that 
either Rouen or Troyes provides in its many churches 
a complete exposition of that period's style. If the 
pilgrim's time is limited, he can accomplish more 
during a short stay in those two cities than he could 



upon any tour which might be outlined. Two other 
compensations provided by this abundance of ma- 
terial are first, that there is a great deal of good 
glass to be seen in Paris, and furthermore, the auto- 
mobilist especially will delight to learn that there 
are a half-dozen points in its immediate neighbour- 
hood which offer an excellent excuse for a half-day's 
outing. For the leisurely traveller who has both 
time and inclination, we will arrange three tours; 
but he must understand that although they will pro- 
vide him with a sight of the best sixteenth century 
glass, there will still be left a number of towns 
worth visiting. 

Each of these trips will begin in Paris. On Tour 
(a) we first stop at Vincennes, just outside the forti- 
fications, then on to Sens, to Troyes, to Chalons-sur- 
Marne and back to Paris. Tour (&) takes us by 
way of Versailles to Montfort I'Amaury; then to 
that perfect shrine of Eenaissance glass, Conches; 
next to Pont-Audemer ; then across the Seine by boat 
to Oaudebec, and from there upstream, by the in- 
teresting old Abbey of St. Wandrille and the stately 
Jumieges to Rouen. From Rouen we run out to 
Grand Andely, Elbeuf or Pont de TArche before 
we push up the river Seine to Paris. Tour (c) will 
particularly recommend itself to the automobilist, 
and most of the points are quite near Paris. We go 
out through St. Denis to the town of Montmorency, 
then through the wood of Montmorency to Eeouen, 



and next a little further on to Chantilly. From there 
our route lies across to Beauvais ; and back to Paris. 
As stated before, several of the towns comprised in 
these three tours are so close to Paris as to enable a 
glass lover with a half -day on his hands to pleasantly 
employ it in a short excursion by train or automo- 
bile. Of course, if he travels by train he can hardly 
hope in half a clay to see more than one of these. 
If, however, he is an automobilist and therefore un- 
trammelled by timetables, he can combine several. 
For example, a glance at the map will reveal that 
Ecouen, Montmorency and Chantilly are so close to- 
gether that an automobilist can fit them into one 
day. A word of warning is not out of place for one 
about to visit these nearby towns. He must be care- 
ful to ascertain from his Baedeker or from the pub- 
lic prints, upon which days they are open to the 
public. Montfort 1'Amaury and Ecouen can be seen 
any day; Vincennes and Chantilly, Thursdays and 
Sundays, etc., but these statistics had better be veri- 
fied in the manner suggested because the regulations 
are changed from time to time. There are three very 
important glass shrines which are, however, so lo- 
cated as to make it impossible to combine them into 
a tour. These are the Cathedral of Auch (down in 
the southwest near Toulouse), the chapel of the 
chateau of Champigny-sur-Veude in Touraine, and 
the famous church of Brou at Bourg in Savoy. The 
pilgrim should make every effort to se them, 



Champigny-sur Veude 



(a) VmcenmS) Setts, Troyes, Chalons 

(b) MontfortTAmaitry^ Conches, Pont-Audewer, Caudebec, Rouen> (Grana 
Andtly, E&euf, Pont de PArche] 

(c) MontMorency, Ecmten^ ChaMly (St Quentin}, Be&iwais. 
Also separate mstts to Boitrg, Attch and Uiamptgny-sur-Veitde, 

(For table of distances, seepage 295 } 


VESTCENNES lies so close to Paris that it can be 
reached by an electric car which starts from the 
Louvre. Its sternly forbidding fortress of the most 
approved feudal type, and the delightful park, have 
been the scene of many an interesting episode in 
Trench history. In the old forest which was the 
predecessor of the modern park, good Louis IX was 
wont to seat himself beneath an oak and measure 
out to all comers that even-handed justice which sup- 
plied one of the reasons for his canonisation. Often, 
on our travels, we have noted how enthusiastically he 
espoused the cause of stained glass, and, therefore, 
we of the Brotherhood of Glass Lovers should feel a 
sympathetic glow of interest whenever we happen 
upon any scene hallowed by his personality. As for 
the castle, perhaps the best proof of its great strength 
is its sinister record of having served during many 
reigns as a dungeon for prisoners of State. Many 
are the great names on its roster of prisoners, nor 
shall we wonder it was "chosen for that purpose after 
climbing to the top of its donjon tower and remark- 
ing the vast thickness of its walls surrounded by the 



deep, yawning moat that isolates it from the smil- 
ing countryside. It is with a feeling of relief that 
we turn from the contemplation of such a subject 
to the delight which awaits us in the graceful Gothic 
chapel with its fine vaultings, set off by the superb 
set of windows from the hand of that great master, 
Jean Cousin. Poor windows, they have suffered 
many vicissitudes since their completion in 1558 ; 
it was not enough that they should be subjected to 
the ordinary hazards of time they were actually 
taken out of their settings and moved away ! After 
an interval they turned up in 1816 in the collection 
of Lenoir. Later they were restored to their original 
embrasures, but some of the heads and limbs having 
been lost, a bungling repairer replaced them by frag- 
ments from other panels. Fortunately for us, the 
last restoration in 1878 has corrected this and they 
are now in condition to show us what their artist in- 
tended to set forth. Notwithstanding the glaring 
light from the uncoloured windows to the west, these 
stained glass pictures arc so delightful in tone and 
drawing as to give us a very high opinion of Jean 
Cousin. It was but natural that he should, in ac- 
cordance with the custom of his time, seize this op- 
portunity to recommend himself to royal favour, 
and, therefore, we must not criticise him for putting 
Henry II attired as a Knight of St. Michael in one 
of the eastern windows. We may, however, very 
properly object to the presence of the royal mistress, 



Diane de Poitiers, among the Holy Martyrs ! Henry 
II must have lacked a keen sense of humour, or the 
artist might have run some risks in so placing the 
fair Diane. The subjects of these windows are 
taken from the stories of the Apocalypse and allow 
the artist wide scope for his fancy, of which he 
avails himself to the fullest extent. He also indulges 
in several daring combinations of colour, as for ex- 
ample, in depicting the flames in the panel to the 
right of the central one, where he used lilac, yellow, 
brown and red, and each colour in several shades. 
Just below, in his shipwreck picture, he again rep- 
resents the flames in the same bold way. Then, too, 
there is a distinctly bluish tone to his enframing 
stone canopies; all this sounds very raw and harsh, 
but the general effect is nevertheless excellent. This 
was the official chapel of the Order of the Saint 
Esprit, so we are not surprised to find upon some 
of the windows knights of that order in full re- 
galia. Vincennes is perhaps the best place to study 
Jean Cousin ; certainly far better than his birthplace, 
Sens, which we next visit. There the cathedral con- 
tains but two examples of his skill, but they are 
veritable masterpieces. 



EvE]sr the most enthusiastic admirer of Sens could 
not bring himself to describe that city, or the sur- 
rounding country, as picturesque. The latter is 
monotonously flat, relieved only by occasional chalk 
ridges. The town straggles away from the river 
Tonne with little to remind us of its former glories 
except the cathedral and its immediate neighbour- 
hood. As we cross the bridge near the railway sta- 
tion we will remark a very incongruous service which 
practical science has exacted from a relic of the past. 
Rising from the parapet at the highest point of the 
bridge is a crucifix up the back of which runs a wire 
ending over the head of Christ in an incandescent 
electric light ! When we passed through Sens on our 
earlier trip (see page 77) we took occasion to relate 
the fateful 'coincidence which took place in the 
twelfth century when representatives from all parts 
of Christian Europe came there to visit the exiled 
Pope just in time to see William of Sens completing, 
in the cathedral, the first great step in Gothic. This 
coincidence not only caused the rapid spread of the 
new style of architecture to every part of the Chris- 


tian world represented by these visiting delegates, 
but also explains why Thomas a Becket, then sojourn- 
ing in Sens, selected this architect to rebuild Canter- 
bury Cathedral in far-off England. Now we come 
to a sixteenth century tale which serves to show that 
the people of the Middle Ages were likewise keenly 
interested in art and that an artist's fame travelled 
perhaps even more widely, all things considered, than 
it does to-day. The beautifully light and graceful 
transepts at Sens were built by Martin Cambiche, 
who was also the architect of Beauvais Cathedral 
and likewise drew the plans for the west front of 
St. Pierre at Troyes. 

First let us look at the cathedral's exterior. When 
viewing the west front we are struck by the appear- 
ance of unusually great breadth, due partly to the 
construction of the cathedral itself and partly to 
the placing of the Officialite (a thirteenth century 
building) which has its greatest length extending to 
the south level with the cathedral's west front. Note 
Ihe device of the Officialite's architect to increase the 
seeming length of his front by gradually diminish- 
ing the distances between his buttresses. Within this 
fine hall St. Louis (Louis IX) was betrothed. This 
ponderous appearance of breadth resulting from the 
juxtaposition of these two buildings might have pro- 
duced too massive an effect if it were not for the al- 
most coquettish fashion in which the tower rises up 
at the cathedral's southwest corner, giving a decided 



uplift and point to the entire f agade. Although the 
cathedral has far fewer windows than we shall see 
at Troyes (because its triforium is not pierced), the 
lighting here is almost garish, owing to the fact that 
the clerestory embrasures are glazed only in grisaille. 
In the charming transepts, however, we obtain what 
is perhaps the ideal lighting sought for by the glass 
artist of the sixteenth century. The windows are 
very numerous and of such general excellence as 
to render these the best glared transepts in France. 
They have not only unusually ample window space 
in their sides, but have also large low-reaching panels 
below the big rose windows which, as usual, decorate 
the upper portion of the end walls. So generous was 
this architect in the number and size of wall aper- 
tures as to prove how greatly he esteemed the as- 
sistance of the glazier. The records show that 
those in charge of the building made most intelli- 
gent use of the opportunity provided by the unusual 
amount of window space. They sent far and wide 
for the best artists. We read that in 1500 they sum- 
moned from Troyes three master glass painters, 
Lyenin-Varin, JeanVerrat and Balthazar Godon,and 
turned a large part of the work over to them. These 
men finished their task in three years, and the result 
amply justifies their selection. The rose windows 
are especially pleasing, that to the south showing the 
Last Judgment with many repetitions of the Angel 
Gabriel, and that to the north a most charming 


TJu Rose is wrw greatly elaborated, i& hues inorf flowing^ and its position 
in tfa wall beautified by the graceful adjustment of the laweti b 


throng of angels playing upon various musical in- 
struments, the interweaving of the glass tones being 
as harmonious as befits this heavenly choir. The best 
known window in this part of the church is a very 
brilliant Tree of Jesse with a red background bearing 
on one of its branches the celebrated Grey Jackass 
(a familiar figure in the old "Fete des Fous") : it 
is at the north end of the east wall of the south tran- 
sept. Of the beauty of these transepts, as well as of 
the way in which their architecture and glass prove 
mutually helpful, too much cannot be said. The 
most famous windows in the church are two by Jean. 
Cousin, who, although born in this city in 1501, is 
only represented in his home cathedral by these ex- 
amples. His glorious St. Eutropius is in the third 
chapel on the right of the nave, but even finer still is 
the Tiburtine Sibyl in the Notre Dame de Lorette 
chapel on the right side of the choir ambulatory. It 
is only fair to this second window to say that it was 
somewhat damaged during the siege of 1814. After 
inspecting these two products of his genius, it is easy 
to understand why Jean Cousin enjoyed so wide a 
fame. We have already referred to the splendid 
relics of the twelfth century which are found on the 
other side of the choir ambulatory. The result of this 
very convenient opportunity to compare the best work 
of the twelfth and the sixteenth centuries is that 
we are sure to be startled by the difference not only 
in results, but also in methods. 



TO-DAY the flat country of the ancient province of 
Champagne, broken only by occasional ridges of the 
chalk which underlie the surface to the great ad- 
vantage of its famous grapes, affords but little of 
interest to the traveller by automobile, and has only 
its level going to recommend it to the bicyclist. There 
is not enough traffic on its roads to enliven the 
monotony of the journey. TTow different must it 
have been when these same highways teemed with 
interesting groups from every rank of society, all 
crowding to the famous fair of Troyes, which during 
the Middle Ages was the bourne of so many tra- 
ders, knights and other seekers of adventure from 
all parts of Christendom. In those days no one 
would have had leisure to notice the monotony of 
the scenery, so 'engrossed would he have been in 
those passing crowds made up of every nationality 
of Europe, all repairing to this great mart of trade. 
During those halcyon days of commercial distinc- 
tion there must have been laid broad foundations o 
cosmopolitan tastes, and a reflection upon those times 
makes it easier to understand why so many artists 



should later have been born citizens of that stout 
burgh. This also explains why so large a number 
of Flemish and Italian artists resorted hither, leav- 
ing marked traces of their influence. This pros- 
perity was temporarily checked by the edict of Louis 
X forbidding the Flemish to trade at its fairs, and 
the absence of these lowlanders was soon followed by 
that of the Italians. From this cause, combined with 
others, the fairs lost their importance, and the Hun- 
dred Years War coming soon after, put the finishing 
touches to the city's decadence. The damaging and 
dreary years of the English occupation were, how- 
ever, enlivened by the episode of the marriage of 
Henry V of England to Catherine of France, at- 
tended by all the pomp and pageantry that would 
naturally be attracted thither by so notable an event. 
Troyes did not, however, recover her old commercial 
prestige until just before the beginning of the six- 
teenth century. Then she took such a bound for- 
ward as, through the new wealth of her citizens, to 
make possible that encouragement of art which de- 
veloped the unrivalled school of glass painters soon 
to make her famous far and near. In fact, so wide- 
ly was their fame spread and so firmly were they 
established, that their school persisted far into the 
seventeenth century, the vigour of their art long 
outliving that of most of the other French glass cen- 
tres. There is no place in France in which one can 
better see examples of the various ramifications of 



the sixteenth century style in glass. We have here 
not only the cathedral, but church after church full 
of the work of the best masters. We shall see not 
only the picture window in lively colour, but also 
that in the subdued style of grey and yellow stain, 
to which we have alluded before. Furthermore, in 
the Library there is a series of historical panels 
which is not excelled anywhere, the secular topics of 
the scenes giving an excellent opportunity to show 
costumes and manners of the times. Nor must one 
confine oneself within the exact limits of the six- 
teenth century, because we have noted that here 
the style of that century extended practically un- 
changed far into the next. We shall begin when the 
style begins and we shall follow it as long as its 
healthy life continues. Of the numerous churches 
in Troyes, those which chiefly interest the glass 
student are the Cathedral, St. Urbain, St. Jean, St. 
Nizier, La Madeleine, St. Pantaleon, St. Nicolas, 
and St. Martin-es-Vignes. Besides these churches, 
there is also the Library to be visited for its series 
of windows devoted to civic subjects. For a descrip- 
tion of that Gothic eggshell, St. Urbain, turn back 
to page 82, where will also be found an account of 
the splendid thirteenth century glass that makes the 
choir of the Cathedral so glorious. 

Let us begin our stroll about the town by a visit 
to St. Jean. It would be difficult for a church to 
more completely preserve its mediaeval appearance 



than this one. Besides, the way in which it is tucked 
in between two crooked, narrow old streets conforms 
to the most approved rules of stage setting. Its 
quaint, irregular exterior makes it appear a pictur- 
esque medley of three or four churches of varying 
size, while its ancient belfry perched on one side like 
a feather in a cap lends the ensemble an almost 
jaunty air. The altar before which Louis II was 
crowned and Henry V of England married, has been 
removed to the east and placed in the more modern 
Lady Chapel. We get an interesting hint of the 
great value attached to stained glass when we learn 
that the original of a window on the right side of the 
nave clerestory (showing the coronation of Louis 
II) was demanded as part of the ransom of Francis 
I when he was captured at the Battle of Pavia. This 
original window is said to be somewhere in Spain. 
The axis of the choir slants quite noticeably from 
that of the nave, and the priests say that this slant 
is intended to symbolise the inclination of the head 
of Christ on the Cross after His death. We notice 
the same difference in axis, as well as the same tra- 
dition, at Quimper, but we there learned that the 
true explanation was not so poetic. Here also we 
are obliged to reject the quaint legend of the priests ; 
the municipal improvements after the great fire 
which ravaged the city in 1524, necessitated the rec- 
tification of the street line, and the north side of the 
choir had to be slanted to conform thereto. The glass 



is in many ways of interest, but has been a good deal 
mutilated. That in the nave has suffered most, but 
fortunately much of its beauty remains. Notice the 
admirable Judgment of Solomon on the south side. 
In the choir and in its chapels we shall get a real 
taste of the Troyes glass school, some of the windows 
being excellent, especially that of the brothers Gon- 
thier, showing the Marriage Eeast at Cana, theManna 
in the Desert, etc. In many of the churches in this 
city we shall observe paintings hung upon the walls, 
and two of those which decorate this sanctuary will 
serve to remind us that Pierre Mignard, the great 
painter of Louis XIV, was born here. 

Another ancient church, and one much richer in 
glass, is St. Nizier. Its original glazing had re- 
mained practically intact until in August, 1901, when 
a most unusual calamity overcame some of it. An 
anarchist exploded a bomb in a chapel on the north 
of the choir. We have observed what our poor friend 
has had to endure in many places, but to be shat- 
tered by an anarchistic explosion seems a most in- 
congruous fate. It is, however, a pleasant surprise 
to find how little damage was done by this act of 
vandalism. The finest window is undoubtedly that 
which adorns the south transept and shows Religion 
overcoming Heresy. The central one in the choir 
(the Virgin Mary and the Apostles receiving the 
Holy Ghost) is by the celebrated Macadre of Troyes, 
but the writer finds its effect injured by the fact 



that the artist (probably to indicate that the side 
panels are to be considered in conjunction with the 
central one) allows the hands of certain figures at 
the side to extend over upon the central panel. This 
century surely went far enough in its disregard for 
the delimiting duties of the leads, but when we find 
an artist so careless of the properties of his materials 
as to put a hand over on the other side of a stone mul- 
lion, it would seem that the limit had been exceeded. 
The most ancient of all the Troyes churches is 
La Madeleine. It contains a marvellous jube arch 
swung in air between the two western columns of 
the choir. Although of stone, the workmanship is 
so delicate and lace-like that we are not surprised 
that the epitaph of its builder buried below used to 
read that he calmly awaited the Judgment Day with 
no fear of the stone arch falling upon him. The 
glass around the choir is excellent, but we must go 
to the Lady Chapel to see the best. On the right is a 
Tree of Jesse, remarkable for the number of figures 
it contains. The east window is the gift of the 
Jewellers' Guild, which fact is carefully set forth 
thereon. To the left is a fine example of glass- 
making, but in addition to that, because of the treat- 
ment of its subject, it is as interesting as one will 
often find. Beginning at the lower left-hand corner 
and reading to the right, are a series of scenes de- 
picting the 'creation of the world, Garden of Eden, 
etc. The imagination of the artist set forth the 



creation of the world in a manner surprisingly close 
to the latest theories of modern science. He starts 
with a round glowing ball of matter which, by means 
of rotation upon its axis, develops in the succeeding 
pictures, first, a more symmetrical shape, and then 
the appearance of land, formation of continents, etc., 
etc. On the left of each of these scenes stands the 
figure of Jehovah, in a costume resembling that of a 
high priest. There is hardly a window in France 
that tells as much or is more interesting in the tell- 
ing than this one. 

'Now we come to a style that is better shown here 
than anywhere else the picture window composed 
of grey and occasionally some flesh tints, with 
touches of yellow stain to relieve it. Two churches 
are entirely glazed in this manner St. Pantaleon 
and St. Nicolas. The latter, it is true, has one or 
two of its upper windows in colour, but the general 
effect is that of a church glazed in grey and stain. 
Of course, these two interiors, because of this glaz- 
ing, are very brilliantly lighted, and in the opinion 
of the writer, much too brilliantly. This method 
proved very felicitous when devoted to domestic pur- 
poses (as found towards the end of this century and 
during the early part of the next), but for a religious 
edifice, although interesting, it is doubtful if it is 
beautiful or suitable. There are some unusual archi- 
tectural features to be found in both these churches. 
St. Nicolas has a very graceful stone gallery ex- 


Read from left fo right y beginning with lowest tier Earth 
evolved from chaos* shoivn 6y gl&zvtng yeltoiu ball ret'ofa'trig on 
tU axis, btrth of Jve> etc Tracery L,zgftt& above are becoming 
simpler zn fortn as elaborate Oothic gives ?vay to Renaissance 


tending across the western end approached by a grad- 
ually bending staircase, the supports of which are of 
admirable design. St. Pantaleon can hardly be said 
to be attractive. The interior is too high and too 
glaringly lighted, but it affords the best opportunity 
to study this grey and stain style. Notice that freely 
as is the yellow stain used to enliven the monotony 
of the greys, it does not succeed in producing the 
charming silvery tone yielded by the canopy win- 
dow of the two preceding centuries. Here and there 
one observes an attempt to modify the ultra-yellow- 
ish grey tone by introducing blues into the borders. 
The falseness of style everywhere noticeable reaches 
its climax in a gallery on the left near the entrance, 
containing two stone figures which appear to be look- 
ing down from it. Do not fail to visit St. Pantaleon 
in order to study its unusual glazing, but do so out 
of curiosity and not expecting beauty, or you will 
be disappointed. Its lack of charm will, however, 
prove useful if you go straight on from here to the 
Cathedral, for by contrast it will intensify your ap- 
preciation of the sympathetic assistance which the 
wealth of colour there lends to the splendid archi- 
tectural effect of the interior. We have already taken 
our reader to inspect the thirteenth century glass 
around the choir, but now we will have him stop in 
the nave to see the work which the sixteenth century 
produced. One immediately notices the particular- 
ly clear fresh colouring of the glass, and this, com- 


bined with its great quantity (for the pierced tri- 
forium permits an additional row of windows be- 
sides the clerestory above and the aisles below) , pro- 
duces an impression which is so unique, and so dis- 
tinctive, that it always lingers in the memory. The 
rather unpleasant contrast noticed at Bourges be- 
tween the depth and the warmth of the thirteenth 
century and the lighter tones of the later glass is for- 
tunately absent from Troyes. The reason for this 
is the unusually rich colour of the later windows. 
From so many excellent ones it is difficult to select 
a few to mention, but we particularly commend the 
fourth on the right (a Tree of Jesse) and the one 
in the fourth chapel on the left, Linard Gonthier's 
famous Wine Press, The Tree of Jesse is not only 
a beautiful example of its type, but is rather out of 
the ordinary because it has a red instead of a blue 
background. TTpon this window, as well as on most 
of the others, are to be seen the donors, their coats-of- 
arms, and other interesting sixteenth century fea- 
tures. Gonthier's Wine Press is so well known as 
hardly to call for a word of description. Christ is 
stretched out in the press, His blood running into a 
chalice, while from His breast springs a vine spread- 
ing over the window, bearing as its blossoms the 
twelve Apostles. Although this window is dated 
1 625, it is in the best style of the sixteenth century 
and shows no tendency towards decadence in either 
drawing or colouring. Before leaving the interior, 


notice an odd architectural device in the north rose. 
This window is of the wheel type and has a support- 
ing column running up through it as far as its mid- 
dle, suggesting a gigantic pinwheel. There is a sim- 
ilar supporting column in the north rose at Tours, 
but there it runs straight up through the window to 
the top, and unfortunately is too heavily and solidly 

Nearly all mediaeval glass was adorned with re- 
ligious subjects, and therefore we have an un- 
usual treat when we visit the large hall of the Li- 
brary and examine the thirty-two panels that fill its 
eight large windows. They are from the hand of 
Linard Gonthier, and the scenes are commemorative 
of the visit to Troyes of Henry IV in 1595. Very 
charming, indeed, are these pictures of the life and 
pageants of the time. There are many familiar little 
touches, such as a small boy being pushed off into 
the water by the crowd, etc. Some of the panels are 
also rich in armorial bearings. 

We have purposely delayed until the last any 
reference to St. Martin-es-Vignes because it was en- 
tirely glazed at the time when the Troyes sixteenth 
century school, although still worthy of its traditions, 
was about reaching its end. This glass is uniformly 
good and provides a most pleasing interior, obviously 
relying for its effect upon the glazing. The dating is 
that of the earlier years of the seventeenth century. 
If we examine the windows too closely we easily find 



indications of a decadence of style. For instance, 
the second on the left gives so much importance to 
the kneeling donors that, although we cannot deny 
the excellence of the work, we must strongly criticise 
the taste which made them so prominent a feature. 
Regarded as a whole, however, the result in this 
church is so excellent that it clearly proves what we 
have before stated, viz. : the virility and strength of 
the glassmaker's art at Troyes outlasted that of most 
of the contemporary French schools. 



BEFORE paying our second visit here to examine 
the sixteenth century windows, let us turn back to 
page 87 and refresh our memory by glancing through 
the account of our thirteenth century trip to this 
city. We shall thus be reminded of the modestly 
retiring beauty of its small parks, as well as of its 
cathedral and two fine churches. Every style of six- 
teenth century glass is to be found in Chalons, but 
for all that it would hardly be selected as one of the 
best places in which to compare them. The small 
church of St. Alpin has in its nave a series of ex- 
cellent windows of yellow stain and grey such as 
we noticed in St. Pantaleon and St. Nicolas at 
Troyes. In those two churches the relatively great 
window space exposes the weakness of this style by 
demonstrating that in large interiors it makes the 
light glaring. By contrast, in St. Alpin, where the 
nave ceiling is low and the window apertures small, 
this method of glazing, by admitting a great deal of 
light, produces a very happy effect. In this St. Alpin 
glass there are marked traces of Italian taste, more 
so than in that at Troyes, though the latter is com- 



monly credited with being the most noticeably af- 
fected by foreign influence. The first one on the 
right, showing St. Alpin before Attila, is delightful, 
every advantage having been taken of the softness 
of tone which is the chief merit of this particular 
treatment. Some of the others are also good, but the 
one just mentioned is the best. Around the choir are 
interesting coloured panels, but so broken up into 
small scenes as to be rendered ineffective. The hand- 
some church of Notre Dame does not, in its win- 
dows, fulfill the promise of its architecture. A great 
deal of the glass is new, and much of the old is muti- 
lated, but in the lower row on the left side of the 
nave there are several brilliant examples of what the 
sixteenth century Champagne school could accom- 
plish in the picture window. Especially vigor- 
ous and striking is the first on the left, showing St. 
James encouraging the Spaniards to defeat the 
Moors. It is as good a battle picture in glass as one 
will find. In the fifth on the left (a Crucifixion 
scene) we note a trick often observed in this prov- 
ince, for the little golden stars are separately leaded 
into the blue sky. Passing on to the Cathedral, dis- 
appointment awaits us. On our former visit we 
found it so fruitful and interesting in thirteenth cen- 
tury glass that we had a right to expect more than 
is yielded by the inspection of the row of sixteenth 
century windows which extend along the lower right 
side of the nave. The canopies in the sixth one be- 


tray that it is fifteenth century, but all the others 
are later. The first on the right is the most interest- 
ing of this series, although it is the poorest in execu- 
tion. On eleven of its compartments are represented 
scenes from the Creation, Garden of Eden, etc., 
wherein certain quaint conceits are noticeable. Un- 
fortunately its many nudes are very poorly drawn 
and the glass used is mediocre in quality. We can 
here clearly see that, although the artist of this period 
was saved a great deal of lead work by his large pieces 
of glass, their use required him to select sheets of 
evener tone and better quality than in the days when 
his pieces were much smaller. 



AN agreeable route from Paris to Conches, etc., 
is by way of Mont-fort FAmaury, which lies beyond 
Versailles, just off the main road to Dreux, and 
45 kilometres distant from Paris. If the pilgrim is 
travelling by train or if he wishes to go straight from 
Paris to Conches, he should then postpone until an- 
other occasion his visit to Montfort FAmaury, and 
will thus keep in store for himself a very pleasant 
half-day automobile excursion. The object of the 
visit proves to be a small church which has preserved 
its sixteenth century glazing practically intact. 
ISTothing could be more simple than its ground plan, 
for there are no transepts, no chapels, simply one 
long building rounded at the east end, whose shape 
suggests that of a man's thumb. While we must not 
expect to find so splendid a glass series as at Conches, 
neither must we fail to appreciate that here is a 
church with thirty-three windows, all of the sixteenth 
century, and in excellent state of preservation. As 
we enter by the small south portal the effect that 
meets our eye is most agreeable. Closer inspection 
of the windows unfortunately reveals that they vary 



markedly in quality and are evidently the work of 
different artists. It cannot be denied that many of 
them are commonplace, although none is really 
poor. Their dating helps to explain this mediocrity, 
for they were constructed towards the end of the 
sixteenth century, at a time when our art was hur- 
rying into decadence. The few earlier ones, and espe- 
cially that dated 1544, are the best. The latter is 
the eighth on the left and depicts Jesus being shown 
to the people. Another, the third on the left, tells 
the story of Joseph, and is an obvious example of the 
Italian influence so prevalent during that epoch. The 
scene in which he is escaping from Potiphar's wife 
is almost an exact copy from Raphael. We must not 
fail to remark the third from the eastern end, in 
which the Holy Ghost is descending upon the as- 
sembled disciples in the form of a shower of golden 
tongues. The grouping of the figures, the play of 
the colours, and the richness lent by these touches 
of gold, all combine to make a brilliant picture. The 
second to the right of this contains the Falling of 
Manna in the Wilderness, but as the tones used here 
are much lower, and the manna is depicted as a rain 
of white spots, the window, as a whole, is much 
quieter than the one just described. In the church 
at Montfort PAmaury an instructive light is thrown 
upon the obtrusive appearance of donors so fre- 
quently found during the sixteenth century. We 
know that the figures are often so large as to be 



positively obnoxious, but it is here demonstrated be- 
yond doubt that the artist worked very much more 
carefully upon these portraits than upon the rest of 
his window. There are few places where this can 
be more conveniently studied, and for this reason our 
visit has been a useful one, even though the glass be 
of a class a little below the best. 



THERE are four modest shrines to which every 
glass lover should contrive to repair, no matter what 
may be the difficulties in the way nor how much time 
it may take. Of these four, one at Fairford (near 
Oxford) is in England, while the other three are 
in France, and are the Ste. Chapelle in Paris, the 
village church at Eymoutiers and Ste. Foy at Conches. 
In each we find the church completely glazed 
in one period and, furthermore, with the best glass 
then procurable. The scene that to-day meets our 
eye in each of these small sanctuaries is practically 
the same that rewarded the artist the day he com- 
pleted his work. We have frequently had occasion 
on our tours to notice how much certain glass would 
have been improved if contrasting windows could 
but be removed from the edifice, or the edifice itself 
in some way changed. There will be no need for 
any such mental correction of the picture when we 
visit Conches. Here, after you have closed the door 
on the twentieth century life outside, you feel that 
you have turned back the finger of time and are liv- 
ing in the days of that eloquent beauty which speaks 
out to you from its windows. Perhaps nowhere else 
will you get the wonderful accord of tone with tone 



and hue with hue that makes the colour at Conches 
so radiantly lovely. We find ourselves in a very sim- 
ple church about twice as long as broad, the only de- 
parture from its rectangular plan being a small five- 
sided chapel which projects from its eastern end. 
There is nothing to aid the glass in its service of 
making splendid the interior. In fact, one might add 
that there is nothing which dares insult it by an 
offer of so obviously unnecessary assistance. Practi- 
cally all the windows are of the sixteenth century, and 
they are so fine that it seems unfair to call particular 
attention to the elaborate set designed by Aldegrevers, 
a pupil of Albrecht Diirer. These fill the seven tall 
windows of two lancets each, which light the eastern 
chapel and are dated 1520. Of the forty-two sub- 
jects upon these windows, those in the upper range 
show scenes from the life of Christ and those in the 
lower from that of Ste. Sophia. It is unfair to 
describe them; they should be seen. At this point 
we may comment that although it is occasionally 
possible to convey some idea of an individual panel 
by technical description, it is useless to attempt, by 
means of words, to give a reader a just conception of 
such an interior as the glass produces at Conches. 
Beside these by Aldegrevers there are eighteen others 
whose dates, running from 1540 to 1553, show them 
to be of slightly later construction. In the fourth 
on the right the allegorical subject contains an un- 
usual detail. A group of figures represent the 



Liberal Arts, and among them, Music: upon her 
insignia appears a musical phrase expressed in proper 
notation. This representation of written music upon 
glass is extremely rare. We shall see another of the 
very infrequent instances when we visit Caudebec. 
Among the finest windows is the fifth on the right, 
which represents the allegory of the Wine Press. 
Here the subject is not treated in the usual gruesome 
fashion. It is not the blood of Christ which serves 
as the wine but, instead, the juice of grapes which 
He is crushing in the press. Throughout all these 
windows the distant landscapes are depicted in much 
more convincing colouring than is usually found at 
this time. This seems due to the fact that the light 
blue glass used for that purpose is left clear of all paint 
except that needed for delineation. Elsewhere these 
blue backgrounds often have so much paint upon 
them as to be rendered partly opaque and therefore 
incapable of simulating the depth necessary for great 
distances. In strength as well as in judicious com- 
bination of a surprisingly wide range of colours, 
their century can show few examples to rival these. 
Not only is their value enhanced by the simplicity 
of the interior which they decorate, and which, there- 
fore, has nothing to distract our attention from their 
beauty, but this very beauty is made all the more im- 
pressive by the sharp contrast provided by the dull- 
ness of the little town outside and the plain exterior 
of the church which it so glorifies. 



THE church of St. Ouen at Pont-Audemer will 
always have for the writer that peculiar charm of 
almost proprietary right which the discoverer is sure 
to feel in something upon which he has happened un- 
expectedly. On his way through the town he saw 
the church, and having noticed from the outside that 
the windows contained stained glass, he stopped and 
went in, undeterred by the positively dishevelled look 
of the unfinished and dismantled west front. A 
delightful surprise awaited him. Around the walls 
of the nave, the space usually occupied by the tri- 
forium gallery here becomes a broad frieze so ex- 
quisitely carved in Gothic patterns as seemingly to 
drape the walls with lace. In fact, you hardly 
notice the unfinished condition of the upper part of 
the church, so engrossed are you in this very unusual 
feature, one of which any cathedral in Prance might 
be proud. And in the embrasures below, what a 
gallery of harmonious glass! Not only are the in- 
dividual windows excellent, but they harmonise so 
well as to make one feel that each artist must have 
been at the greatest pains to make his work con- 


tribute to and not interfere with the general scheme. 
It is for the glass hunter a treasure trove to find a 
church which has preserved a complete glazing of 
one period, but to have the windows all good, and 
better still, in such charming accord with each other, 
makes the occasion of his visit to Pont-Audemer a 
red-letter day. The ground plan of the church is 
somewhat broken up, btft even that seems but to 
add to the charm of the interior. The first win- 
dow to the left in what might be called the choir am- 
bulatory is not only the best but by far the most in- 
teresting. Without any definite division of its sur- 
face into panels, the whole picture seems to grace- 
fully resolve itself into four contrasting scenes from 
the Old and the New Testament, entitled "Devant la 
Loy," "Soubz la Loy," "Devant la Grace," "Soubz ' 
la Grace." The effect of clouds in the sky is very 
elaborately worked out, while here and there between 
them peep forth the head and wings of little 
cherubs it is really very engaging. Possibly the 
over-captious visitor may consider the combination 
of small heads and surrounding clouds somewhat 
reminiscent of the buttons holding down upholstery, 
but such a carping critic should be packed off about 
his ill-tempered business ! In a window on the right 
side of the nave the donors are ranged along a little 
gallery in the lowest panel. This method has in its 
favour that it does not present them as intruders on 
the picture, so often the case in this century. We 



carry away with us a charming impression of the 
service rendered by the glass in toning the light for 
the graceful stone carvings on the nave walls. The 
effect is unique. 

On the outskirts of the town there is a small 
church, St. Germain, whose east window is an agree- 
able example of fifteenth century canopy work. 



OUE way from Pont-Audemer lies for some little 
distance through the large Foret de Brotonne, one of 
those tidy symmetrical woods produced by the ex- 
cellent system of French forestry. Its excellence, 
however, is largely practical, for all the charm of 
the "forest primeval" is pruned away. On reaching 
the banks of the Seine we find ourselves in full view 
of the pretty town of Caudebec, its graceful cathe- 
dral spire beckoning us across the water. It is Just 
at this point in the river that there occurs the Mas- 
caret, the local name given to a swift-rushing wave 
produced by the conflict between the incoming tide 
and the outgoing current of the river ; it takes place 
only at stated intervals and is then viewed by numer- 
ous tourists. Assuming that we have arrived at a 
time when the Mascaret is not interfering with navi- 
gation, we embark upon a flat, open ferry-boat and 
soon reach the bank on the other side and are off 
to the cathedral. Few French churches have their 
Gothic architecture lightened and beautified by more 
infinite detail of carving than this at Caudebec, 
while over all rises an airy spire encircled at three 
different heights by a stone crown a form of deco- 
ration very unusual and quite lovely. Above the 



west portal is a gallery that attracts our notice be- 
cause its open-work stone railing is composed of 
Gothic letters. Once inside the church, we realise 
that the windows are well worth a visit, particularly 
to one seeking quaint details in glass, for there are 
many such here. We have already referred in our 
introduction to the first window on the right, the 
Israelites crossing the Red Sea. In order to render 
the scene as descriptive and realistic as possible, red 
glass is used to make the sea, thus removing any 
possible doubt in the observer's mind as to the iden- 
tity of that body of water. Almost opposite (the 
second on the left) is a Tree of Jesse, upon which the 
'descendants appear at full length instead of as the 
usual busts. Much golden brown is used, not only 
in the intricate convolutions of the vine, but also 
in the costumes and in the stone terrace supporting 
the pavilion below which Jesse is seated. Above the 
small north portal is a pleasing canopy window of 
the fifteenth century whose unusual feature is that 
the bottom of it is curved to fit the arched top of the 
door. Because of this unusual base, the customary 
pedestals at the foot could not be used, but the ir- 
regularly shaped space is tastefully filled with deco- 
rations of yellow stain, surcharged with shields whose 
heraldry catches the eye of the American traveller, 
because they bear stars on a blue field, as well as 
red and white stripes. Fifteenth century canopies 
also fill the first window to the east of this portal 


and the three to the west, one being dated 1442, and 
all containing four lancets. A couple of windows 
across the church are also of this type, while the 
whole of the side-lights of the clerestory contain con- 
temporary light-admitting panels, whose colour is 
restricted to a few round bosses bearing golden rays, 
and to the broad golden borders which here are car- 
ried up into and almost fill the tracery panes above. 
Another very unusual feature (and one which we 
have just noticed at Conches) is the presence of two 
pieces of music written out in the form called "full 
chant" and borne by angels. 

If one can spare the time, Villequier, four kilo- 
metres down the Seine, should be visited. The small 
church there has seven excellent sixteenth century 
windows, one of which, that in the centre on the 
north side, is really famous. The lower half of its 
three lancets each contains a figure on a white back- 
ground bearing an etched damasked pattern, bor- 
dered richly in gold. Across the entire upper half 
is spread out a spirited naval battle in which four 
ships are engaged. The armoured knights are de- 
picted with great vigour, while excellent use is made 
of the artistic possibilities provided by three great 
pennants, two of red with white crosses, and one of 
yellow bearing a black eagle. 

The route from Caudebec to Rouen is charming, 
thanks to the ever-changing views provided by the 
windings of the Seine. If we please, we may stop 



on the way to view the Abbey of St. Wandrille (re- 
cently purchased by Maeterlinck) and also the loftily 
impressive ruins of the Abbey of Jumieges. Jumie- 
ges, in the midst of its beautiful park, is most pic- 
turesquely situated within one of those very pro- 
nounced loops so common in the lower Seine, which 
seem to signify the unwillingness of its waters to 
depart from this delightful corner of France. 



UPON approaching Rouen one is sure to be struck 
by the insolent daring of its situation. Lying on a 
sloping plain beside the river, it seems to disdain 
the well-nigh impregnable site afforded by the steep 
cliffs which rise just to the northeast. The history 
of the city bears out the audacity of its location. 
Through all the centuries its inhabitants concerned 
themselves so continuously in conquering other peo- 
ples that little time was left in which to consider the 
security of their own homes. The Norman boasted 
that his strongest defence was a vigorous offence, 
and he made good his boast. The town of William 
the Conqueror seems always to have been imbued by 
the spirit which gave him his name, and the triumphs 
of the Normans in England, and later in Italy, are 
but natural expressions of that virility of race which 
endures to the present day. Upon the arms of the 
city there appears a lamb with one of its forefeet 
lifted. Upon this is based the old Norman saying, 
"L'agneau de la ville a tou jours la patte levee," a 
homely comment upon the restless spirit of its citi- 
zens and their disposition to be always up and doing. 


Perhaps tie most characteristic feature of Eouen 
when viewed from a distance is the great number 
of its spires that shoot up above the housetops, earn- 
ing for it the sobriquet of the City of Churches. 
This very attractive detail is all the more striking 
because so rarely seen in French towns, and is par- 
ticularly reminiscent to one freshly arrived from 
England, a country whose church towers are such a 
charming feature of the landscape. Full of signifi- 
cant history is this Eouen a history branded for all 
time by the cowardly fire that ended the tortures of 
Joan of Arc, that strangely potent and beautiful 
spirit. Fortunately, no trace remains of that das- 
tardly deed. Turning to a less sinister page in the 
city's history, we see on one side of the market- 
place, a small pagoda-like structure called the old 
tower of the Fierte. Here, on Ascension Day in 
every year, was freed a prisoner selected by the peo- 
ple, and that this privilege was jealously retained 
by ther v is proved by the existence of a complete list 
of the prisoners so freed from 1210 to 1790. Nor do 
the records stop there: they also narrate many a 
fierce encounter resulting from the determination of 
the burghers to preserve this right. Most of the 
quaint features of the town have been modernised 
away so thriving a commerce as here flourishes 
could not long tolerate the old narrow crooked streets. 
Where old features remain they are so obviously pro- 
tected as to look almost theatrical. Of this the two 



best examples are the clockbearing archway over the 
street which bears its name (Grosse Horloge), and 
the ancient carved wood housef ront transported from 
its original site, affixed to another dwelling and 
dubbed the House of Diane de Poitiers. 

Placed just at the point where ships coming in 
from the sea must transfer their freight to the smaller 
vessels that go up the Seine, Rouen is so intent upon 
her commerce, that all the principal hotels are strung 
along the quays on the riverfront, a very unusual ar- 
rangement in a French town. When we visited the 
church of St. Ouen to see its fifteenth century glass, 
we mentioned the esteem in which the Rouen glass- 
makers were held at that time both at home and 
abroad. From what we are now about to see we 
can judge for ourselves how much truer it must have 
been in the sixteenth century. The number of splen- 
didly glazed churches which have been preserved for 
our inspection almost consoles us for the long list of 
others swept away by the ruthless vandalism of the 
Revolution, and, to a less extent, by the peaceful hand 
of time or the mailed fist of war. The principal ones 
we should visit (beside St. Ouen already described) 
are St. Maclou, St. Vincent, St. Patrice, St. 
Godard, St. Romain and the Cathedral of Notre 
Dame. Perhaps the least interesting sixteenth cen- 
tury glass is in that gem of Gothic architecture, St. 
Maclou, whose florid faade has its bizarre charm 
accentuated by the graceful bowing outwards of the 



west front. The glass that attracts us most is in 
the transept rose windows, the lancets below them 
and in the very brilliant western rose. All these 
roses are dwarfed by the excessive size of the pen- 
dent lancets: it is all the more unfortunate, because 
considered separately the roses as well as the lancets 
are excellent. The earlier windows in the choir 
chapels have been described in our former visit (see 
page 144:). In the south transept a well-composed 
Crucifixion scene is carried across all the lancets. 
The north transept contains a Tree of Jesse on a blue 
background, and oddly enough, the tree has white 
branches. In leaving St. Maclou, notice the dainty 
spiral staircase that winds up at the south side of the 
door; it seems almost too delicate to be made of 

St. Vincent has its entire lower part lighted by 
large embrasures completely glazed with glass of this 
period, producing a singularly brilliant and lumi- 
nous effect all about us. The columns which separate 
the ambulatory from the choir are so slender that 
they do not materially interfere with our view, and 
thus the whole interior is exposed at once, an en- 
closure of glorious colour. In fact, it is not too much 
to say of this church and, to a less extent, of the 
two which we shall next visit, that they are bowers 
of iridescent glowing light. There are two Trees 
of Jesse at St. Vincent, one over the north portal, 
and another at the east end of the south aisle, but 



inspection of the latter reveals that the genealogical 
tree rises not from Jesse but from St. Anne! In 
the true Jesse tree over the northern door the branches 
are white, a peculiarity just noticed at St. Maclou. 

St. Patrice differs from St. Vincent in that, in- 
stead of seeming to stand in the midst of a circle of 
luminous colour, our attention is rather directed 
towards the splendid bow-window at the east with its 
Crucifixion scene, to which all the rest of the glass 
seems decorously subordinated. Although glazed a lit- 
tle later than St. Vincent, it yields the same splen- 
didly luminous effect, the natural result of a series of 
panels all of this period. The chief boast of this 
church is the Triumph of the Law of Grace by Jean 
Cousin in the Lady Chapel. Nor is his the only great 
name that we shall find frequently upon the glass of 
Rouen. One window much admired for its felicitous 
combination of theoretically uncongenial colours is 
that which sets forth the legend of St. Hubert. Its 
greens, reds, yellows and blues must be seen before 
one can believe that it is possible to agreeably unite 

Our next church is St. Godard, whose ancient 
glories have been so restored and replaced by modern 
trash that we find it hard to believe that, when it 
possessed its original glass, no church in all Nor- 
mandy could vie with it. To-day it is far less at- 
tractive than St. Vincent and St. Patrice, the latter 
of which, by the way, now contains several of the 



original windows of St. Godard. The second in the 
chapel named after St. Romain, depicting scenes 
from his life, is one of the few in the church which 
is not either restored or renewed. It is so good 
in every way that one is surprised the other windows 
do not seem more out of place by contrast. We sigh 
for the days when there was justified the phrase 
used by the Norman peasant in describing good wine, 
"As red as the windows of St. Godard." 

Near the railway station is St. Romain, which, 
though less ancient than those which we have just 
visited, is the fortunate possessor of glass brought 
from several of the churches swept away by the Revo- 
lution. Particularly notice the spirited scene of St. 
Romain slaying the Gargouille, the fabled dragon of 
early Rouen. On the left, in what seems to be a 
transept, is a pretty window at the bottom of which 
appear such a sensibly modest row of small kneel- 
ing donors that we could wish that all sixteenth cen- 
tury glaziers might have seen them, and had been 
thereby restrained from their customary exaggera- 
tion in this particular. Unfortunately, the ancient 
panels were not large enough to fill the embrasures 
here provided, so this extra space was filled by wide 
borders of light modern glass. The result is that 
these borders admit such a flood of light as to drown 
the beauties of the older panels. 

Now we have arrived at the Cathedral Before we 
enter, let us feast our eyes upon the delicate Gothic 


detail which softens and decorates its sturdy west 
front. At the southwest corner rises the Tour du 
Beurre, built (as was the same named tower at 
Bourges) from the moneys received out of the sale of 
indulgences to eat butter during Lent. The modern 
iron spire is so well designed as to seem hardly out 
of place among its older sisters. We should enter 
by the north portal. Just outside it is an enclosure 
formerly devoted to exhibiting the wares of book- 
sellers, which is shut off from the street by a light 
Gothic screen. Viewed through it the wonderful 
carvings on the north portal become doubly effective. 
The interior of the cathedral is as full of interest 
as the best style of Gothic can make it. On the 
right is a very attractive zigzag stairway which 
leads up to the library. In the Lady Chapel are 
two especially fine tombs, one of the Due de Breze, 
husband of the famous Diane de Poitiers, and the 
other of Louis XII's great Minister, Cardinal d'Am- 
boise. The fourteenth century glass of this chapel 
has already been described (see page 144). The 130 
windows which light the cathedral's interior are 
mostly glazed in colour, but they are the product of 
various centuries and are of varying excellence. We 
find here but eight thirteenth century medallion win- 
dows, but they are delightful. Two of them are in 
the nave, the third and fourth on the left. The others 
are in the choir ambulatory and are so placed as to 
be singularly effective. If one stands in either the 



original windows of St. Godard. The second in the 
chapel named after St. Romain, depicting scenes 
from his life, is one of the few in the church which 
is not either restored or renewed. It is so good 
in every way that one is surprised the other windows 
do not seem more out of place by contrast. We sigh 
for the days when there was justified the phrase 
used by the ]STorman peasant in describing good wine, 
"As red as the windows of St. Godard." 

Near the railway station is St. Roinain, which, 
though less ancient than those which we have just 
visited, is the fortunate possessor of glass brought 
from several of the churches swept away by the Revo- 
lution. Particularly notice the spirited scene of St. 
Roinain slaying the Gargouille, the fabled dragon of 
early Rouen. On the left, in what seems to be a 
transept, is a pretty window at the bottom of which 
appear such a sensibly modest row of small kneel- 
ing donors that we could wish that all sixteenth cen- 
tury glaziers might have seen them, and had been 
thereby restrained from their customary exaggera- 
tion in this particular. Unfortunately, the ancient 
panels were not large enough to fill the embrasures 
here provided, so this extra space was filled by wide 
borders of light modern glass. The result is that 
these borders admit such a flood of light as to drown 
the beauties of the older panels. 

Now we have arrived at the Cathedral. Before we 
enter, let us feast our eyes upon the delicate Gothic 



detail which softens and decorates its sturdy west 
front. At the southwest corner rises the Tour du 
Beurre, built (as was the same named tower at 
Bourges) from the moneys received out of the sale of 
indulgences to eat butter during Lent. The modern 
iron spire is so well designed as to seem hardly out 
of place among its older sisters. We should enter 
by the north portal Just outside it is an enclosure 
formerly devoted to exhibiting the wares of book- 
sellers, which is shut off from the street by a light 
Gothic screen. Viewed through it the wonderful 
carvings on the north portal become doubly effective. 
The interior of the cathedral is as full of interest 
as the best style of Gothic can make it. On the 
right is a very attractive zigzag stairway which 
leads up to the library. Tn the Lady Chapel are 
two especially fine tombs, one of the Due de Breze, 
husband of the famous Diane de Poitiers, and the 
other of Louis XIFs great Minister, Cardinal d'Am- 
boise. The fourteenth century glass of this chapel 
has already been described (see page 144). The 130 
windows which light the cathedral's interior are 
mostly glazed in colour, but they are the product of 
various centuries and are of varying excellence. We 
find here but eight thirteenth century medallion win- 
dows, but they are delightful. Two of them are in 
the nave, the third and fourth on the left. The others 
are in the choir ambulatory and are so placed as to 
be singularly effective. If one stands in either the 



north or the south aisle of the nave and looks directly 
east, the only glass which meets his eye is that of 
windows brilliant with these early medallions, far 
off at the other end of the great cathedral. Just at 
this time the western rose window chiefly concerns us 
because it is of the sixteenth century. Its concen- 
tric circles of white angels, red seraphim, green 
palm branches, etc., provide a strong contrast be- 
tween the reds and yellows (filling the centre third 
of it) and the dark greens and dark blues of the 
outer two-thirds. In the southeasterly corner of the 
south transept, the window on the cast, as well as that 
on the south, are worthy of our attention. The lat- 
ter is by Jean Cousin, and its six panels show six 
virtues, each entitled in Latin. Those of us who are 
subject to fits of depression should especially observe 
"Fortitudo," for there the bishop has slain the Blue 
Devil, and is pursuing its lilac and its green broth- 

Although St. Ouen has already been visited for its 
magnificently complete fourteenth century glazing 
(see page 144), the rose windows of its transepts are 
such noteworthy examples of the Eenaissance that 
we must not omit a comment upon them at this 
point. That in the north transept has its diverging 
figures arranged like herrings in a barrel, but while 
those at the sides and around the lower part are light 
in tone, those in the upper part are red seraphim and 
blue cherubim: this is very unusual. The south 


rose is peopled by a multitude of small personages, 
each occupying a pane by itself. Careful examina- 
tion reveals that we have here a Tree of Jesse. He 
is in the middle, but it is only with some difficulty 
that we distinguish the branches of the vine radiat- 
ing from him. 

JBef ore leaving Rouen the traveller should see the 
interesting carvings on the House of Bourgetheroulde, 
depicting the Field of the Cloth of Gold, nor will he 
fail to admire the magnificent apartments which 
Norman love of equity constructed for it in the 
Palais de Justice. 

Besides the towns already visited, there are three 
others near Rouen which contain interesting glass, 
Grand-Andely, Elbeuf and Pont de 1'Arche, distant, 
respectively, 33, 20 and 18 kilometres from Rouen. 
They are worth a visit if one can spare the time, but 
we risk an anti-climax in recommending our travel- 
ler to see them after the glories of the Norman 
capital. The nearness of these towns and also of 
Pont-Audemer (48 kilometres), Caudebec (35 kilo- 
metres), and Conches (51 kilometres), suggests a 
way in which one can change the whole itinerary 
just outlined. This can be done by using Rouen as 
a centre from which to run out and back, and thus 
visit all this group of six without cutting oneself 
off from one's base. To one at all encumbered with 
luggage, this suggestion will probably appeal. 



OF the trio just mentioned, Grand-Andely is much 
the most interesting, in fact it deserves greater re- 
nown for its glass than it at present enjoys. Unfor- 
tunately only one side of the church retains its origi- 
nal glazing, but we find ample compensation for this, 
because the entire southern half is filled with bril- 
liant sixteenth century subjects, not only along the 
chapels below, but also in the clerestory. After a 
delightful hour spent here one readily credits the 
tale that a youth of the neighbourhood, by constant- 
ly contemplating their glories, so developed his love 
of colour that he determined to devote his life to 
painting. This youth was Nicolas Poussin. The 
great width of the embrasures, as well as their num- 
ber (six in the nave and four in the choir, on each 
side, both above and below), provide ample scope 
for the display of the glazier's skill. Among so 
many of such excellence it is difficult to select which 
to praise the most, but the third on the right in the 
nave clerestory (dated 1560), because of Abraham's 
gorgeous yellow robe, as well as the blue canopy with 
red draperies above the aged Isaac, will linger long- 



est in the writer's memory. Even when viewed on a 
dull, grey day, one cannot escape from the impres- 
sion that a bright sun is shining outside, because of 
the brilliancy of this window's hues. It is one of 
the few examples of this epoch to possess that pe- 
culiarity, which, by the way, is so common among 
the mosaic type of the thirteenth century. This 
tendency towards the ornate, everywhere apparent 
throughout this series, finds its ultimate expression 
in the sixth nave chapel on the right, where the stone- 
work of the Renaissance canopies is heavily overlaid 
with golden designs. The choir's four southerly clere- 
story windows each contains a large figure under a 
canopy of the time, the treatment varying in each 
case. Below, in the south wall of the choir, the tracery 
lights of the two easternmost windows are filled with 
diminutive angels, eleven praying or playing musical 
^instruments in one of them, and in the other, nine, 
each carrying a symbol of the Passion. The way in 
which each angel is adjusted to the small pane it oc- 
cupies is very graceful. 

The apse end is square, in the English fashion. 
Its great east window contains good fourteenth cen- 
tury canopy work, in bands across a grisaille field. 
The subsequent addition of a Lady Chapel to the 
east has injured the effect of this glass, not only by 
an entrance being cut through it below, but also be- 
cause the second tier of canopies is entirely shut off 
from the light by the wall of this later chapel built 



against it outside. There is thus left only the third, 
or upper tier, for our inspection. If the northern 
side of this church were as fortunate as the south- 
ern in the possession of its original glazing, this 
would lank among the best French glass shrines, 
which is high praise. 



ELBETJF Las two churches worthy of our attention, 
St. Etienne and St. Jean, but the former is very 
much the better. In St. Jean the first four windows 
on the right, three of those opposite them, and the 
first on each side in the Lady Chapel are all of the 
sixteenth century. There is, however, so much res- 
toration as to greatly diminish our interest, except 
in the Lady Chapel. There the one to the right 
displays scenes from the life of the Virgin, with a 
label below each. The lower right-hand panel, in 
which appear Joseph and Mary, carries realism to 
an extraordinary point, while its label prevents any 
misunderstanding of its meaning. 

However unsatisfactory St. Jean may prove, we 
shall be consoled when we enter St. Etienne. There 
the whole effect leads up to and culminates in the 
splendid bay that, with its three lofty windows, each 
containing three lancets in double tiers, forms the 
eastern end of the choir. There are no transepts, the 
nave joining directly on to the choir. Although the 
nave glass is all modern, it does not affront the glories 
of its older neighbours in the choir, which is, un- 



fortunately, so often the case elsewhere. One is 
tempted to confine one's comments to the splendid 
easterly screen of colour, but that would be discrim- 
inating unjustly. The famous legend of St. Hubert, 
dated 1500 (the second from the east in the souther- 
ly choir aisle), has been too much restored, but this is 
the only one that can be thus reproached. In the 
cast end of this aisle we find at the bottom of a win- 
dow two panels with tapestry-makers at work, show- 
ing that it was the gift of that guild. Across, in the 
north aisle, the easternmost window in the north 
wall is a Tree of Jesse, dated 1523. Jesse is seated 
beneath a pavilion; from the tent pole sprouts a 
vine, out of whose blossoms arise the usual half- 
length figures. In the topmost pane of the traceries, 
the Virgin is seen emerging from a great lily. 



PONT BE I/AKCHE, approached from Rouen, is 
most picturesque. It lies snuggled down by the river, 
its bridge flung invitingly towards you across the 
Seine, while behind it the forest comes down the 
steep slope almost to the town. The church, perched 
high upon a corner of the old fortifications, seems 
to be keeping watch over the homes of its parishion- 
ers. Its elaborately carved exterior gives rise to ex- 
pectations that are not realised, for within we find 
but little glass to arrest our attention, although what 
there is dates from the sixteenth century. At the 
eastern end of the north wall there is a Tree of 
Jesse, but it is clumsily imagined and coarsely 
drawn. The flowers upon the vine are too large, and 
from them protude great half-length figures, so much 
out of balance with the rest of the design as to render 
the ensemble lumbering and ungraceful. The reason 
for our visit is provided by the second window east 
from the south portal. The upper part shows Christ 
walking on the sea. Below, reaching across the en- 
tire window, is a scene full of the liveliest local in- 
terest. A boat is being drawn under an arch of the 



bridge over the Seine, and pulling upon the two long 
tow-ropes are groups of the townspeople, fifteen of 
them and two teams of horses tugging at one rope, 
and eighteen and one team at the other. These 
groups are carefully painted in enamel. A second 
vessel is being similarly assisted under another arch 
of the bridge, the tow-rope in this instance being 
made fast to a rowboat. The details of the bridge, 
of the fortified island in the right foreground, and 
of the enamelled figures of the citizens, are all most 
engaging. In the matter of correct perspective, the 
artist relies heavily upon the indulgence of the spec- 
tator, but otherwise the panel is agreeable, full of 
quaint interest, and absolutely unique. 



THE tour which we now propose will prove par- 
ticularly attractive to the automobilist or bicyclist, 
although we do not by that statement desire to dis- 
courage the traveller by train. He will find the 
same glass and the same towns, but he will miss the 
opportunity to enjoy, en route, the forests of Mont- 
morency and Chantilly which during the summer are 
so alluring. During the first part of the journey we 
will see glass designed for moderate sized interiors 
and, therefore, adapted for close inspection. On 
these windows will be found many careful portraits 
of the donors, some of which in their perfection of 
treatment have never been surpassed. It would be 
unfortunate if this itinerary for any reason should 
be omitted, because without it our study of sixteenth 
century glass would not be comprehensively com- 
plete. We leave Paris by the road going north 
through St. Denis: our pilgrim will hardly, upon 
this occasion, stop to visit the Abbey Church, because 
nearly all of its glass is modern and glaringly poor. 
What there is of old glass is twelfth century and 
either fragmentary or much restored and repaired. 



The celebrated window showing the devout figure of 
its donor, Abbot Suger, excites our reverence, hardly 
our admiration. Its chief interest lies in the fact 
that there has come down to us the good abbot's own 
account of this among other windows which he pre- 
sented. The tombs of the French kings are, of 
course, most impressive, and provide one of the 
great sights of Prance to one interested however 
slightly in its history, but to-day we arc in pursuit 
of stained glass, so the Abbey of St. Denis must 
wait until another occasion. The road straight on 
to the north leads to Ecouen, but that visit must 
be deferred a little, so just outside of St. Denis we 
turn sharply to the left and after eight kilometres ar- 
rive at Montmorency, delightfully perched upon a 
hill with orchards on every side. From the little 
platform just outside the west front we get a fine 
view o the forest of the same name which, fortu- 
nately for American eyes, has not been so pruned 
as to no longer resemble a forest. From Montmo- 
rency we take the right hand to Ecouen there to re- 
join the straight road running north out of St. Denis. 
We follow this road to Ohantilly, where the Mont- 
morency glass ends, then turn northwest to Beauvais, 
and after enjoying its splendid cathedral, return to 
Paris. At this point let us remark that although 
automobiles and trains undoubtedly add to the com- 
fort of the traveller, it would be better for xis on this 
particular trip if we could substitute for them a 


mediaeval belief in magic. Then our first move 
would certainly be to seize a fairy wand and sum- 
mon as our guide that glorious warrior, courtier and 
patron of the arts, the great constable, Anne de 
Montmorency. Nothing could be more incongruous 
than the selection for him of a woman's name, even 
though borrowed from the Queen of Louis XII. The 
reason for summoning him is most obvious: it was 
he who built the castles of Ecouen and Chantilly, 
while the church at Montmorency, though founded 
by his father, William, was completed by the son. 
Who, then, could better tell us their stories or more 
delightfully revive by familiar anecdote the origi- 
nals of their glass portraits? Even after our con- 
juring had secured for us his company, we might 
find ourselves in trouble, unless we were willing to 
discard our automobile or train for a stout horse. 
The arts by which we secured his presence in the 
flesh might seem to him quite natural, for magic 
was much more respected in his time than in these 
more practical days, but it is greatly to be feared 
that the puffing engine would overcome that stern 
courage, tested in many a stricken field, and that it 
would take the utmost vigilance on our part to pre- 
vent him from bolting back into the sixteenth cen- 
tury. After accompanying him to Montmorency and 
Ecouen, and after wandering together through the 
forest, park and chateau of Chantilly? we shall bid 



him farewell, but we must not be surprised if lie 
stoutly objects to our turning off towards Beauvais, 
demanding that, having recalled him from the spirit 
world, we hear his story out, and to that end push 
on to St. Quentin. The lusty old warrior would be 
quite right, for the chronicle of his career would be 
incomplete if it omitted the delaying and glorious 
defeat he there received while commanding the 
Trench forces, thereby providing time for Henry 
II to rally the remaining strength of France and 
save Paris from the victorious Philip II of Spain. 
The result of that battle proved highly satisfactory 
to both victor and vanquished, for while its delay 
saved Paris, on the other hand Philip's victory so 
elated him that in memory thereof he erected the 
famous palace of the Escorial near Madrid. Though 
most of us will conclude to refuse the Constable's 
request, some few of our company may desert us 
and follow him to St. Quentin. Once there, they 
must not fail to view the two splendid sixteenth cen- 
tury windows in the second northern transept of the 
church already visited on our thirteenth century 
tour. They are each two and a half metres wide by 
nine and a quarter high. One is dedicated to Ste* 
Barbe and is dated 1533, and the other, dated 
1541, to 'Ste. Catherine, each displaying elaborately 
gruesome episodes depicting the martyrdom of the 
heroine. The latter one shows God the Father at the 



top receiving the saint, who is borne upward by fly- 
ing angels. In the lowest panel we remark Cather- 
ine's headless body sitting bolt upright, while nearby 
on the floor lies her severed head intently regarding 
it (see page 107). 


Up a steep road that has more turns and branches 
than a grape-vine, and suddenly we come out on a 
little platform before the west front of the diminu- 
tive church of St. Martin. Off to the west and 
around on each side there unfolds a panorama of 
smiling valleys and green hillocks in most enticing 

As one enters the western portal, he first observes 
that the three westerly windows on each side are 
modern, and of these there can be no higher praise 
than that they harmonise admirably with their four- 
teen ancient neighbours to the east of them. These 
fourteen are chiefly interesting because of the deli- 
cacy of their composition, which is really delicious. 

Perhaps the chief interest here is the gallery of 
family portraits afforded by the donor's figures upon 
the panes. Among the many admirably drawn faces 
of distinguished scions of the House of Mont- 
moreney, the best is that of the founder of this 
church, William, the father of our friend the great 
Constable, which is behind the altar, to the left It 
is evidently the work of a great artist. The fourth 



Here the donors are frankly ike important feature So proud uere the 
Constable and his wife (Madeleine de Savote) of their five sons and seven 
aatighters thai we find four pair* ofwmdt'wsport+aywg them 


on the right and the fourth on the left (and, there- 
fore, opposite each other) are two windows contain- 
ing one, Anne de Montmorency, and the other, his 
wife, Madeleine de Savoie, each attended by their 
children. These two were made about 1563, while 
those to the east of them range from 1523 to 1533. 
The Constable is supported by his five sons and his 
wife by her seven daughters. She is looking toward 
the altar, but he is looking across at her. Each of 
these domestic groups occupies nearly half of the 
entire embrasures, but it does so in such a frank man- 
ner as to entirely avoid the appearance of intrusion, 
so generally the result of portraits like these. As we 
walk around the church we are amazed that so fragile 
a medium as glass should have preserved through all 
the centuries these portraits in more perfect condi- 
tion than many which were consigned to canvas or 
marble. In fact, one wonders why this was not more 
often done, and at the same time wishes it had been 
effected as frankly as in these two just described, 
and not by the intrusion of donors upon a window de- 
voted to another subject. It is impossible to repress 
a smile upon noticing that the Crucifixion scene 
which bears the portrait of its donor, Guy de Laval, 
shows him kneeling in the central panel, while the 
crucifix is in a side one ! Lest these comments may 
have seemed severely intended, let us point out a 
few of the many lovely features. For instance, the 
second window from the east in the north wall has 



in its central panel the Virgin holding the Infant 
Jesus, who reaches out His baby hand to receive a 
dove. The greensward below is picked out with 
bright flowers and peopled by small animals, quite as 
one sees them on the early tapestries. Nothing could 
be more charming. The tracery lights are excellent- 
ly treated throughout, sometimes in a most unusual 
manner. Above the window just described, we find 
on a lilac field thirteen golden coins, each bearing a 
different head. This comment upon the higher panes 
leads us to speak of a most delicate group of four 
panels perched up above the north portal. Across 
them extends what appears to be a long cloister hav- 
ing a rich damasked curtain fastened shoulder-high 
from column to column, above which is afforded a 
distant prospect of gardens, etc., while in each of 
the panels there stands a female saint. But little 
height is needed for this picture, so the traceries 
above come down low, and are filled by a throng of 
blue eaglets on a golden ground, the heraldic in- 
signia of the Montmorencys. Before the Battle of 
Bouvines the shield of this house bore but foitr 
eaglets, but on that day Mathieu de Montmorency 
captured twelve of the enemy's standards with his 
own hand. In recognition of these deeds of prowess 
King Philip Augustus added twelve more eaglets to 
his arms, one for each captured standard, thus rais- 
ing the total to sixteen. These arms we shall see 
often repeated in the windows at Montmorency, 


Ecouen and Chantilly. A visit to this little church 
is a delightful experience and fills us with eager ex- 
pectation of what its founder's son, the great Con- 
stable, can show us in his two castles of Ecouen and 
Chantilly. We are tempted to stray off into the 
charming forest which stretches away more than five 
miles to the northwest and to revel in the natural 
beauty of its chestnut trees, but the Constable awaits 
us, so off we must be to Ecouen. 



ECOTTEN is generally visited because of its fine 
chateau, built on the crest of a hill and entirely sur- 
rounded by a delightful wood except on the side 
where from a flowered terrace there is disclosed a 
far-reaching view out over a smiling country. But 
it is not the chateau which lures us hither, but 
the parish church down in the town that nestles 
at the foot of the castle walls. The chateau has lost 
its old glass, the two panels from its chapol show- 
ing the children of Anne de Montmorency being now 
in the chapel at Chantilly, which place also rejoices 
in the possession of the famous series of forty-four 
scenes from the adventures of Cupid and Psyche, 
which originally decorated the now destroyed Salle 
des Gardes at Ecouen. Eor us, therefore, the chateau 
has lost most of its charm ; if you wish to inspect it 
you must obtain a carte d'entree from the Ohan- 
cellerie de la Legion d'Honneur in Paris, for it is 
now a school for daughters of members of that order, 
and is not open to the public. For those of us who 
have come here to see the parish church there will 
be no bother about permits, for none is needed. This 



church not only contains excellent Renaissance win- 
dows, but upon them we shall find a fine array of 
Montmorency portraits as well. The upper panels 
of the lofty lancets that flank the high altar are 
filled with scriptural scenes, but below they con- 
tain, that to the left, Anne de Montmorency with his 
five sons, and that to the right, his wife attended 
by five daughters. Although we have here the same 
family portraits as those seen in Montmorency 
Church, this pair is much older (1544-5), and not 
only shows the children as much younger than at 
Montmorency (15G3), but also has but five daughters 
instead of the seven seen on the later glass. Nor are 
these the only similar pairs of these windows. The 
Constable was so proud of his children and of their 
number that he seemed to never tire of having them 
portrayed on glass. We have just referred to a 
third pair (dated 1544) made for the chapel of 
Ecouen chateau, but now at Ghantilly, and there is 
still a fourth pair in the nearby church of Mesnil- 
Aubry which are the latest of all, for the Con- 
stable is there shown with a snow-white beard. At 
Ecouen we observe that the parents occupy each 
a separate panel from the children, but at Chan- 
tilly the parent panels are both missing. The 
remaining three windows on the south side of the 
choir bear as donors still other Montmorencys, but 
the work is later and not nearly so good. The high 
altar concealed the lower half of the central eastern 



windows, so they did the next most sensi- 
ble thing to lowering the altar back they trans- 
ferred to a little northern chapel the panels it ob- 
scured. The whole northerly side of the chcxir opens 
out into a chapel whose northern and eastern ends 
are lighted by three large embrasures filled with ex- 
cellent Renaissance glazing, depicting scenes from 
the life of the Virgin. Especially fine is the second 
from the east, showing in the lower half, the death 
of the Virgin, while above are clouds peopled with 
angels, all leading up to the Father in the top pane 
of the tracery. Tho traceries of the three eastern- 
most choir embrasures are filled with blue eaglets on 
a golden ground, iLe insignia of the Montmorencys. 
This same treatment of the traceries may also be re- 
marked in the chapel of the chateau; in fact, they 
are air that remains there of the original glazing. 
We have already admired this same form of decora- 
tion over the north portal at the Montmorency 

It seems a pity that the Ecouen glass now at Chan- 
filly could not be restored to the embrasures for 
which it was made; it obviously does not belong 
where it is now found, and, besides, it loses there the 
historic significance which it would enjoy in its old 
home at the chateau of Ecouen. 



AT one time or another during our glass pilgrim- 
ages we have happened upon examples of other me- 
diaeval arts and crafts which all combine to make 
France so absorbingly interesting. It, has been, re- 
served for our visit to Chantilly to show us one of 
the formal gardens of Old France in which nature 
has been made to yield to the whim and fancy of the 
landscape artist. Most travellers have seen the 
famous gardens of Versailles and have heard that 
they were designed and arranged by Le Notre, but 
those at Chantilly were designed by this same master 
before he was called by the King to do his greatest 
work at Versailles. There are many who prefer his 
earl'er effort, and we must be grateful to our glass 
for having brought us to this delightful spot. The 
forest of Chantilly, which covers over six thousand 
acres, forms an excellent foil for the formal stateli- 
ness of the gardens. One is not allowed to visit the 
chateau except on Thursdays and Sundays and not 
then if it happens to be a day when there is racing at 
the Chantilly track. This regulation is to prevent 
race crowds from overrunning the chateau and 



grounds. The beautiful building with its priceless 
collections was the private property of the Due 
d'Aumale and was by him presented to the Institut 
de France. In a long low gallery especially con- 
structed for them, and which receives all its light 
through them, is a much travelled and widely dis- 
cussed series of forty-four panels narrating episodes 
from the adventures of Cupid and Psyche. They are 
of the yellow stain and grey type which we have 
noticed at Troyes and Chalons, but here the work- 
manship is far superior. Note that the grey is in 
places almost brown, and that the yellow is used but 
sparingly. The high state of perfection to which the 
design and drawing are carried, combined with the 
fart that their subjects are non-religious, make them 
delightfully unique. It is easy to observe the strong 
influence of Italian art, not only in their general 
style but also in the very liberal borrowing of de- 
signs from well-known Italian paintings. Until re- 
cently they were attributed to that versatile master 
of many arts, Bernard Palissy, but that has been 
definitely disproved. They are now generally ac- 
knowledged to be the work of Cocxyen, a Flemish 
student of \ r an Orley (who made the windows of 
Ste. Gudule in Brussels), and the Italian influence 
is explained by the fact that he studied in Borne. 
These panels are dated 1542-4 and were originally 
made for the windows of the Salle des Gardes at the 
Chateau of Ecouen upon the order of Constable Anne 


de Ifontmorency. The Kevolution dislodged them 
and they found their way into a museum arranged 
by Lenoir. This collection was dispersed in 1818. 
It is narrated that the Prince de Conde, when visit- 
ing the museum, admired this set of glass. Hearing 
someone remark that they had formerly adorned a 
castle belonging to his family (meaning Ecouen), 
he had them bundled up and packed off to his 
chateau at Chantilly, where they have since re- 
mained. This picturesque tale serves to show that 
stained glass panels were not then regarded as neces- 
sarily stationary. We have seen several other in- 
stances of this lack of respect for their stout iron 
bars. They were beautiful and valuable, and there- 
fore, when the occasion arose, they were removed! 
Excellent as is the work upon these panels and grace- 
ful as are the figures, we cannot but notice that our 
art is taking rapid strides towards its decadence. 
They are no longer windows where the full value of 
colour and leading are appreciated and used. In this 
set they are careful colourless paintings on glass in 
which the artistic value of the leads is so disregarded 
that they no longer provide or even assist the draw- 
ing they only mar it as they run across the panes 
wherever their supporting strength is necessary. We 
have arrived at a time when the windows are becom- 
ing painted pictures done in the manner of paint- 
ings on canvas. The artist no longer remembers that 
stained glass is a separate art and that he has cer- 


tain advantages in technique over the oil painter, 
just as the latter has over him. 

The small ante-chapel has on each side a tall win- 
dow. In the middle of each is set a large panel of 
sixteenth century glass, the one on the right show- 
ing five Montmorency daughters kneeling in a row, 
attended by Ste. Agathe, and the one on the left 
their five brothers, also kneeling, and similarly at- 
tended by St. John. The remainder of the em- 
brasure is, in each case, filled with modern glass 
done in the "Renaissance manner and intended to 
harmonise with the older panel in its midst. The 
artist devoted more care to the faces of the boys than 
to those of their sisters, for although the latter are 
monotonously alike in drawing and posture, the for- 
mer differ markedly. The face of the smallest boy 
is most diverting. His hands are ela&pec! in prayer, 
but unlike his more devout brothers and sisters, his 
eyes are not turned toward the altar, but he is gaz- 
ing out into the chapel with childish curiosity. In 
these two panels the leads are not so cumbrously in- 
trusive, but there is a lesson which every glass artist 
should learn from an inspection of the carefully 
painted windows at Ecouen, Montmorency and Ohan- 
tilly* lie cannot fail to notice how the misuse of the 
leads has been accentuated by the careful painting, 
and he should carry away with him a firm convic- 
tion that the more delicate the design the less it can 
afford to quarrel with the leading. 


THE average tourist looks forwards with keen in- 
terest to his first visit to Beauvais. He has, of 
course, heard of the ancient glories of its tapestry, 
which industry is still kept up by the French Gov- 
ernment. ITe has also read that the perfect French 
cathedral would be composed of the choir of Beau- 
vais, the nave of Amiens, the west front of Eheims 
and the towers of Chartres : so of the choir of Beau- 
vais he expects great things. Nor will he be disap- 
pointed, especially if he first views it from tho 
Amiens road. This approach reveals tho town to 
him in the most picturesque way imaginable. Ou 
reaching the brow of a short hill ho becomes sudden- 
ly aware of Beauvais, lying below him in the valley 
beside a lazy river. One could more properly say that 
he first saw not the town, but the amazing uplift of 
the cathedral, and next the town about it. The great 
height of this edifice is accentuated by the fact that 
only the choir and the transepts are now standing. 
Long ago the nave succumbed to the great strain 
which its unnatural height put upon the materials 
of which it was constructed, and collapsed. The 



architect's vaulting ambition o'erleapt itself. In 
fact it is only by means of constant shoring and re- 
pairing that this choir, the loftiest in France, is pre- 
served in a safe and solid condition. When the pil- 
grim descends into the town he comes upon many 
interesting timber-framed houses, some of them with 
second stories projecting over the arcaded footway 
below and exhibiting quaintly attractive carvings on 
their heavy beams. We find an intelligent attempt 
to preserve the best traditions of the older Beauvais 
tapestry in the modern factory. Just as formerly, 
it bears floral designs and very rarely personages, 
being of the sort called f T)asse lice," and woven on a 
horizontal frame, thereby differing from the "haute 
lice" of the Gobelins factory, where the frames are 
perpendicular. Not only in the Cathedral, but also 
in the church of St. Etienne, do wo find excellent 
glass of the sixteenth century. The lai.ter's fine Gothic 
choir, adorned with graceful flying buttresses, pro- 
vides a strong contrast to its sturdier Romanesque 
nave. The glass is only to be found around the choir, 
and is well deserving of its high repute. One should 
notice the tone of the blues, especially in the back- 
ground of the church's finest window, a Tree of Jesse, 
the first on the left from the Lady Chapel. It is 
the work of Engrand le Prince, and is one of the 
best known examples of the irrelevant use of por- 
traits of high dignitaries. Their half-length figures 
appear as blossoms on the vine. Among the four- 


Popular subject in stained gla^s t the vine springing from the fans ofjeste 
generally bears his desiend&iits as blossoms, and culminates above in a. great 
h?y from which emerge ike Virgin and Child Here occurs an interesting 
ibth century variation among the descendants of Jesse appear contemporary 
portraits^ Francis /, flenry //, efc 


teen, almost all contemporary likenesses, the most 
recognisable are Francis I and Henry II. At the 
back of the choir clerestory there is a fine window, 
blue with golden rays of the stm spreading out over 
it. The legend of St. Hubert is very agreeably set 
out just to the east of the small south portal, the 
green used therein being seldom surpassed. 

It is difficult to express in words the effect of 
extreme loftiness which strikes one as he enters the 
south door of the Cathedral. It seems almost impos- 
sible to shake off .this impression ; in fact, one is con- 
stantly being surprised that he does not grow accus- 
tomed to the great sweep of the upward lines. In the 
two great rose windows which decorate the transept 
ends, and in the double row of lancets below each, 
there is excellent glass of this period. The northern 
rose shows the golden rays of the sun spreading out 
over a blue background, reminding us of its prototype 
at St. Etienne. Below, the ten figures of women are 
attributed to Le Pot The southern rose contains the 
history of the Creation with such interesting detail 
as to well repay the trouble to decipher it caused by 
its great height above us. Below are two handsome 
rows of lancets dated 1551, the upper containing 
prophets, and the lower, saints. The western wall, 
rising abruptly at the point where the nave should 
commence, has in its north and south corners two 
chapels. Each of these chapels has large sixteenth 
century windows, the northerly one in the west wall, 



the Descent from the Cross, being very fine ; in fact, 
it is by some considered the best in the cathedral. 
The choir also has fine Eenaissance glass, although 
in several of the choir chapels (especially in the Lady 
Chapel) and around the clerestory at the east end, 
there are some very interesting thirteenth century 
windows, one, in particular, a Tree of Jesse, ren- 
dered attractive by the halo of flying birds about the 
head of the Saviour. So tall are the clerestory em- 
brasures that generally only the middle portion of 
them contains personages, the upper and lower parts 
being filled with grisaille. Most of these upper em- 
brasures were glazed in the fourteenth century, and 
show to a marked degree the revulsion from the 
sombre mosaic, and the demand for greater illu- 
mination. All this glass would be much more 
effective if nearer the eye of the observer, the great 
height at which it is placed not only spoiling the 
perspective, bnt resulting in a jumble of colours. 
The City Hall contains the flag which the gallant 
townswoinan, Jeanne Hachette, captured with her 
own hands upon the occasion of the attack on the 
city made by Charles the Bold and his army. Al- 
though this gallant deed was performed in 1472, it 
has never been forgotten by the people of Beauvais, 
and its anniversary is reverently commemorated upon 
the 29th of every June. 



IN addition to the glass seen during these three 
trips, there are three isolated churches whose win- 
dows are so interesting as well as important that one 
should not be contented to conclude his sixteenth 
century studies without visiting them. Not only is 
each one of them distant from other contemporary 
glass, but it would seem as though the Imp of the had taken a hand in placing them as far 
away from each other as possible. Bourg is down 
south in Savoy ; Auch is near Toulouse in the south- 
west; and Ohampigny-sur-Veude is off in the west- 
ern part of Touraine, near the lower reaches of the 
river Loire. Each of these three not only was com- 
pletely glazed during this epoch, but has also re- 
tained its glass in good condition. In each case the 
special interest which causes our visit is quite peculiar 
and very different from that which attracts us to 
the others. When we concluded our trips of the 
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we were confronted 
with the advisability of a separate journey to Quim- 
per, and in like manner we should now decide to 
visit Bourg, Auch and Champigny-sur-Veude. It 



must be confessed that it is inconvenient, but it will 
prove well worth while. 

First in importance is the church of Brou 
at Bourg. Although Savoy now forms part of 
Trance, we shall, upon this excursion, find proof 
that it was not always French, and shall further- 
more encounter much interesting history wrapped 
up in the tale of the building and glazing of 
the church of Brou. Up in the north, at St. 
Quentin, we found the high-water mark (on French 
soil) of that splendid empire which the Span- 
iard, Charles V, agglomerated under his banner and 
which he resigned to his son, Philip II, the victor of 
the Battle of St. Quentin. So vast and important 
was his empire that he lacked only France to have 
all the continent of Europe beneath his sway. ,It was 
the aunt of this Emperor Charles V, Marguerite 
d'Autriche, who built the exquisite church of Brou 
in memory of her husband, Philibert le Beau, Duke 
of Savoy, killed in a hunting accident. After this 
glance at history, it is not difficult to understand why 
Marguerite sent to Flanders for her architect and 
for her glass designers, for as Flanders was part of 
her nephew's empire, none was more fully advised 
than she of the high reputation then enjoyed by the 
artists of the Low Countries. Apropos of the way 
in which her husband Philibert died, it is related 
that when his father had been at the point of death 
from a similar hunting accident, Philibert's mother, 



Marguerite de Bourbon, had vowed to erect a chapel 
to St. Hubert, patron saint of huntsmen, if he re- 
covered. Her failure to comply with this vow was 
by many firmly believed to be the reason why her son 
Philibert was killed upon the hunting field, and that 
his untimely end was a solemn warning that a vow 
to St. Hubert must be strictly kept. In any event, 
St. Hubert must have been fully satisfied with the 
manner in which the oath was finally carried out, 
for the chapel so built has remained to amaze and de- 
light many generations. The wonderful marble 
tombs, the graceful rood screen, the splendid glass, 
all go to prove that there was here lavished every- 
thing that wealth, power and intelligence could com- 

It is bewildering to decide with which of the 
eighteen windows we shall begin our inspection. Be- 
cause of our interest in the foundress and her hus- 
band, let us commence with that in the choir, which 
is at the left of the most easterly window. Upon 
this one and its neighbour to the left we shall see 
spread out much concerning the life, family and 
habits of Philibert. The first window shows the 
Duke himself attended by his patron saint, St. Phili- 
bert, while in the background there looms up his fa- 
vourite ducal palace of Pont d'Ain, where he lived 
and died. As indicating the importance of his duchy 
there are arranged above him thirteen shields dis- 
playing the arms of provinces at one time part of 
' 287 


Savoy. The next window to the left bears a splendid 
array of thirty-five shields whose heraldry serves to 
complete our information about Duke Philibert by 
showing the individuals composing his family tree. 
Those on the right are of the paternal line of Savoy, 
and on the left we follow his mother's line (the 
House of Bourbon) as far up as Louis IX, whose 
arms appear at the very top of the embrasure. It is 
most fitting that the arms of our old friend, the royal 
patron of stained glass, should preside over the most 
brilliant window in this famously glazed sanctuary. 
It is to be noticed that this church is very rich in 
heraldic blazons ; in fact, upon five of its windows we 
find seventy-one shields. The Ohapelle des Sept 
Joies contains a gorgeous work, the Crowning of the 
Virgin, in which every effort of the glassmaker's 
skill seems to have been exerted. Above the princi- 
pal subject runs a panel-like frieze showing in alle- 
gory the Triumph of Christ. This frieze is done in 
grey and yellow stain. The whole window would 
leave nothing to be desired in either technique or 
colour if it were not made the victim of an exag- 
gerated outbreak of the curse of donors' figures. The 
foundress and her husband are not only allowed to 
intrude upon the drawing of the general subject, but 
each of them is actually larger than the figure of the 
Virgin. The records show that this church (begun 
in 1511) had all its glass installed at the time of 
its completion in 1536, thus showing that the win- 



dows were made during the most vigorous part of 
the century, a fact thoroughly borne out by internal 
evidence. We may consider ourselves fortunate that 
the use of this glorious building for a store-house 
during the Revolution damaged the glass so little. 
In this connection it is surprising to read that its 
beauty was so much appreciated that the people voted 
to preserve it as a public monument, thus staying the 
hand of the ever-ready vandalism which then raged 
through so many French churches. 

A sketch of Bourg would not be complete with- 
out a reference to the noble poem of Matthew Arnold. 
The following lines are particularly appropriate to 
the moving cause for our visit to this lovely shrine : 

So sleep, forever sleep, marble Pair 1 
Or, if ye wake, let it be then, when fair 
On the carved western front a flood of light 
Streams from the setting snn, and colours bright 
Prophets, transfigured Saints, and Martyrs brave, 
In the vast western window of the nave ; 
And on the pavement round the tomb there glints 
A chequer-work of glowing sapphire-tints, 
And amethyst, and ruby then unclose 
Your eyelids on the stone where ye repose, 
And looking down on the warm rosy tints, 
Which chequer, at your feet, the illumined flints, 
Say : "What is this? We are in bliss forgiven 
Behold the pavement of the courts of Heaven!" 



SEVENTY-SEVEN kilometres west of Toulouse there 
lies the interesting city of Auch, built upon a hill- 
side rising sharply from the river Gers. Here one 
will happen upon many an ancient architectural bit 
which will take him back to the days when Henry of 
Navarre here entertained, much against her will, his 
mother-in-law, Catherine de Medieis, in this south- 
western corner of France, far off from her beloved 
Paris. The very remoteness has preserved many of 
its old-world features, and this ancient flavour, com- 
bined with the picturesque position above the river, 
renders it distinctly a town to be visited. But some- 
thing more than the general mediseval air of Auch 
is the cause for our long jaunt hither. This reason 
we shall find in the eighteen windows that adorn the 
choir ambulatory of the cathedral of Ste. Marie. An 
inscription in the Gascon dialect on the final one of 
the series tells us that they are by the hand of Arnaud 
Desmoles and that they were finished June 25, 1513. 
We have here the work of a Frenchman, a Gascon 
at that, and there is no trace of Italian, German or any 
other foreign influence; it is the true flower of the 



country's genius growing on its native soil. Perhaps 
the drawing and the colouring are not quite so good 
as we may see elsewhere, but it is purely French. 
Any imperfection of detail is hardly noticed, be- 
cause we are instantly struck by the ensemble of 
eighteen windows made for the building which they 
decorate, as well as for each other, and all by the 
same artist. His scheme of subjects, showing the 
agreement between the teachings of the Old and those 
of the New Testament, is fully carried through to 
its completion. The colours show strength and yet 
are not too robust. The proportions, too, are very 
satisfactory, each window being about three times as 
high as it is broad. Their stories begin with the 
creation of the world and carry us on, step by step, 
until they conclude with the appearance of Christ 
to His disciples. The central part of each embrasure 
is filled by a large personage, with sundry smaller 
figures above, and groups below. It is but natural 
that so complete a series as this should have always 
enjoyed a wide reputation. Although we may feel, 
after examining them, that they do not reach the 
standard of perfection attained by some of their con- 
temporaries elsewhere, still they cannot fail to please 
us. The charm lent by their logical completeness 
causes us to prefer them to others where the per- 
fection of drawing and style in the individual win- 
dow is partly offset by lack of harmony with others 
near it, 



mention of Touraine generally calls up be- 
fore us the picture of a smiling country through 
which rolls the lazy Loire hemmed in by its sandy 
banks, with every now and again the vision of a 
charming chateau, type of the best mediaeval archi- 
tecture. To the glass lover, however, the chief and 
almost the only attraction of the province is the 
cathedral at Tours (see page 51). We say "almost/' 
because although not generally known and but sel- 
dom visited by the tourist, Touraine has another 
glass shrine lying within a few kilometres of the 
Chateau de Ohinon. The chapel in which we find 
this glass was formerly part of the Chateau of Cham- 
pigny-sur-Veude, but the chapel alone remains. Be- 
fore we enter, the writer wishes to deliver himself 
of a partial explanation or apology, and he does so 
for the following reason : he has all along inveighed 
bitterly against the curse of donors' figures upon 
windows, but on this occasion he must frankly admit 
that he is guilty of taking you to see glass of which 
a most interesting feature is these very representa- 
tions of the donors. In fact the chapel has a peculiar 




containing kneeling donors not \/ttr:t'tt 
ture of a fjih < entury event {See 


value because it contains thirty-six portraits of the 
Bourbon-Montpensier family. They are to be found 
along the lowest panels, each one kneeling before a 
prie-dieu. The chapel is admirably lighted, partly 
due to the destruction of the old chateau, but chiefly 
to the eleven large windows, each seven by three and 
a half metres. The same scheme of decoration pre- 
vails throughout. Lowest down we find the kneel- 
ing donors ; above them and occupying far more space 
are historical episodes from the life of Louis IX, of 
peculiar interest to us, his humble followers in the 
love of stained glass. Among the most interesting of 
these glass pictures may be cited one showing a bat- 
tle with the Saracens in the Holy Land, several por- 
traying ships filled with armoured knights, and par- 
ticularly the episode of St. Louis dedicating the Ste. 
Ohapelle at Paris. Above these in the roomy oval tra- 
ceries are scenes from the Passion. Highest of all are 
small panes containing either a capital L with a crown 
slipped down around it, or a bird's wing similarly 
encircled by a crown, referring respectively to King 
Louis and the Bourbons. The only variation from 
the regularity of this general scheme is the east win- 
dow, which shows the creation of the world and has 
below it Christ between the two thieves. The fact 
that this chapel is to-day completely glazed in its 
original glass and that there is a thorough coherence 
of style throughout, would alone serve to repay us 
for the long trip from Paris; but when we add th 



fact that this is a Bourbon portrait gallery, an his- 
torical interest is at once added to its other attrac- 
tions. These arguments in its favour will keep us 
from observing too keenly how much the crudeness 
of some of the colours accentuates the dullness of 
others. It would be better if the greens could be 
softened and the greys enlivened. Lest we may seem 
by thus criticising the glass to wish to disparage 
it, we make haste to urge our reader to visit Cham- 
pigny. He will find ample compensation for its 
isolation from other glass of its century by the many 
chateaux which make a trip through Touraine so 




Paris 227 Bourges 190 Poitiers 103 Tours 
107 Angers 87 Le Mans 124 Chartres 
88 Paris. " 

Paris 168 Auxerre 59 Sens 63 Troyes 79 
Chalons 41 Rheims 1 45 Paris. 

Paris 95 Soissons 35 Laon 46 St. Quentin 
75 Amiens 131 Paris. 


Paris 94 Evreux 51 Rouen 133 Paris. 

Paris 227 Bourges 97 Moulins 82 Riom 
14 Clermont-Ferrand 148 Eymoutiers 50 
Limoges 120 Poitiers 124 Angers 87 JLe 
Mans 49 Alen^on. 21 Sees 64 Verneuil 
54 CJwtos 88 Paris. 

Paris 5 5 5 Quimper . 




Paris 5 Vincennes 107 Sens 63 Troyes 
79 Chalons 160 Paris. 

Paris 45 Montf ort P Amaury 72 Conches 5 6 
Pont-Audemer 32 Oaudebec 34 Rouen 
133 Paris. (Rouen 33 Grand-Andely, Rouen 
20 Elbeuf, Rouen 18 Pont de TArche,) 

Paris 18 'Montmorency 8 Ecouen 27 Chan- 
tilly 50 Beauvais 78 Edris. 

Paris 466 Bourg. 

Paris 701 Auch. 

Paris 279 Champigny-sur-Veude. 




192 . . Alengon 1 6 th Century 

131 . Amiens 13th " 

302 Angers 18th 

802 Angers . ... 15th " 

701 Auch . .. 16th 

168 . ... Auxerre 18th " 

78 Beauvais 16th " 

466 Bourg 16th 

327 . . .I&Biges 18th 

227. .. Bouxgfig 15th " . 

161 .. .. Caudebec 16th 

160 Chalons 13th " 

160 Chalons 16th " 

279 Champigny-sur-Yende 16th " 

86 Ohantilly 16th 

13th " . 

Charges 14th " . 

888 Clermont-Perrand 15th " 

117 Conches 16th 

18 Ecouen 16th 

124 Elbenf 16th " 

94 Evreux 14th " 

410 Eymontiers . . . . 15th '* . 

99 Grand-Andely .. ..16th " 

129 Laon 13th " 

398 lamoges 14th 

214 IVEaaMLe) 18th " . 

214 .,.. JVEaHa(Le) ...15th " , 





45 Montfort TAmaTiry. . 16th Century 286 

18 ....Montmorency 16th " 270 

289 Moulins 15th " 155 

97 ETonancourt 15th " 187 

384. ...Poitiers 18th 47 

334 ....Poitiers 14th " 172 

167 . ...Pont-Audemer . . 16th " 242 

114 .. Pont de P Arche ...16th " .... 263 

555 .. Qnimper 15th " .... 191 

145 ... 5beiW 18th " . . . .93 

868 ... Biom l5tE ' 157 

188 .. Rouen 14th " 144 

138 . ...Rouen 16th " 249 

176 ....St. Quentin 13th " 107 

180 Sees 14th " 180 

112 ...Sens 13th " 77 

113 . ...Sens 16th " 218 

95 . ...Soissons 13th " 99 

233 .. Tours 13th " 51 

156 . . .Troyes 18th " 82 

156 Troyes 16th " 222 

118 Verneml 15th "... 185 

5 Vinoennes 16th " 215