Chapter IV: Part 4

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 taste 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 century.

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

FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURY PILGRIMAGES

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

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

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

(_a_) _Evreux, Rouen._ (_b_) _Bourges, Moulins, Riom, Clermont-Ferrand, Eymoutiers, Limoges, Poitiers, Angers, Le Mans_, (_Alencon_), _Sees, Verneuil, Chartres._ _Also separate visit to Quimper._

(_For table of distances, see page 295._)]

EVREUX

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

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

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

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

ROUEN

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

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

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

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

An occasional fifteenth century panel is to be met with elsewhere in Rouen (_i.e._, the westernmost in the north wall at St. Vincent), but they are neither sufficiently numerous nor noteworthy to be cited here. We shall carry away as our chief souvenirs of this preliminary visit to Rouen, memories of the complete glazing of St. Ouen, the varied exhibition of contemporary transitional types found at the Cathedral, and St. Maclou's delicately tinted half-circle of eastern chapels.

BOURGES

When we visited the Cathedral of Bourges to inspect the glass of the thirteenth century (see page 42) we referred to that of the fifteenth which fills the windows 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. Perhaps 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 constructed at a later period than the rest of the cathedral, 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 mullions. 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 windows consist of four lancets. We note here the custom 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 personages 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 Coeur, the merchant prince of Bourges, who became treasurer of France under Charles VII. It is as beautiful 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 beneath 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 Coeur employed upon this window the best glass artist to be found, just as he must have engaged the most skillful architects and builders for his palace, to the glories of which we alluded in our thirteenth century pilgrimage. This window and that dwelling stamp him as one of the most intelligently appreciative 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 embrasures at the eastern end of this lower church or crypt have been placed a set of fifteenth century windows 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 way, but under the two outer canopies the figures are partly concealed behind simulated architectural columns. This unique arrangement serves to render the glass architecture all the more convincing. It would have been well if other towns had followed the example set by Bourges in thus preserving in some store-house like a cathedral the glass of other edifices which had to be destroyed.

If we travel by automobile from Bourges to Clermont-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 Besancon), it need not detain him, because it has no old glass. If he decides 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.

MOULINS

If our pilgrim in going south from Bourges to Clermont-Ferrand passed through Nevers, 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 attributed to Ghirlandajo, but now conceded to have been the work of an unknown Moulins painter who, for want of more particular information, is called the Master of Moulins. Around the choir ambulatory there are a few canopy windows of the fifteenth century. Most 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 Renaissance and so far removed from Gothic.

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

RIOM

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 startling a difference as is effected by the 14 kilometres separating Riom 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 industries, a railway centre, in short, a distinctly twentieth century community. Geographically those few kilometres are only a step, but 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 feature which attracts us most in Riom is the Ste. Chapelle, which now serves as the chapel for the Palais de Justice, through which we must pass to reach it. The practical hand of the altering architect 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 remarkable example of the highly-developed canopy type of the middle of the fifteenth century. Upon these are displayed a great company of richly attired 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 writing. These scrolls form a most effective and agreeable 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 transept at Carcassone. The four central panels at the bottom contain the donors, always an attractive detail if only they are modest in size and placing. We 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 brought 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 distance to readjust the perspective, and therefore a dull day, by softening the light, greatly increases their charm.

CLERMONT-FERRAND

The 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-Dome, 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 commerce 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-Dome, whose knob-like crest towers proudly above its surrounding and supporting heights. There are but few views like this in France, for it is rare to find so bold a range of hills rising so sharply from so wide a plain.

After descending the many steps which take us back into the 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 cathedral 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 partly because of its distance from Paris, and partly because, if that distance had been overcome, there are no other towns in its vicinity noteworthy for their thirteenth century glass. Now that we are considering the glass of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, distance from Paris no longer proves an argument against this visit, because that period cannot be seen unless one is willing to go far afield. Besides, 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 accordance 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 richness 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). Perhaps 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 medallions of the clerestory, although seemingly distinct, really combine to form the Last Supper. We should not fail to notice at Clermont-Ferrand how very harmoniously 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 fact, there are but few places where glass epochs are combined in such an attractively unobtrusive manner.

EYMOUTIERS

When from the top of Clermont-Ferrand Cathedral we viewed the mountains of the Puy-de-Dome 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 Eymoutiers 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 windings 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 Eymoutiers 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 fountain 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 pleasantly revert. He need not look about for a cathedral 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. Chapelle in Paris we have observed that the deeply-hued medallion windows of the thirteenth century were not suited to a small interior--that their materials and construction required 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, we 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 splendid 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 century 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 fifteenth 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 accentuating this enrichment of the artist'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 in 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 revealing several quaint manifestations of the strict adherence to tradition for which the mediaeval glass artists are noted. Contemporary conventions demanded that St. Christopher have a tessellated pavement as the floor of his canopy, but the legend requires 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 halfmoon-shaped cloud, neatly balanced on the conventional pavement. Though these little touches make us moderns smile, they were doubtless at the time approved as showing 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 days.

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 dwelling-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.

LIMOGES

After a charming ride of fifty kilometres from Eymoutiers, we arrive at Limoges, sloping picturesquely up from the banks of the winding river Vienne. We elsewhere set out our reasons for believing that the Byzantine influence upon the beginnings of French art was first and most potently exercised at Limoges, the cradle of French enamel. After remaining dormant for centuries, the enameller'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 conscientious pilgrims, must not fail to inspect. Now for the cathedral! Architecturally it is very satisfactory. 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. Unfortunately, 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 consist 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 cannot 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 coloured borders. In one the light field is arranged in quarries (diamond-shaped spaces), each quarry having its own little border of colour; this is very unusual. 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 conventional designs in red and blue, but no figures. We find the same objection to the placing of this window and to its construction that we did to the rose windows 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 automobile or bicycle, that the road along the Vienne, following the picturesque windings of that charming river, is one of the most delightful in all France.

POITIERS