The upper portion of the west end is filled by the great rose window, which, as we have noticed, is so beautiful a feature of the façade. The tops of the pipes of the great organ hide the lower part of it from our view inside. The lovely painted glass, which is ancient, has representations of the Virgin and Child surrounded by prophets. Amongst other features are the signs of the Zodiac, the labours of the months, and the Virtues in triumph with lances in their hands. The gallery on which the organ is now placed was possibly used for the performance of miracle plays. As it is at a relatively great height from the pavement, this is at least doubtful. The Organ is a fine instrument of wonderful power. It was practically rebuilt by Thierry Lesclope in 1730, and enlarged by Cliquot in 1785. In recent years it has been immensely improved by M. Cavaillé-Coll, who gave it 5266 pipes and 80 stops. It plays a great part in the splendid musical services for which the Cathedral is famous.
Exterior.
Interior.
ELEVATIONS OF THE NAVE.
(From Viollet-le-Duc.)
The Nave is almost devoid of monuments; nothing breaks up the vast lines of the architecture. The most important tomb is that of Jean Etienne Yver, Canon of Paris and Rouen, who died in February 1467. It has escaped serious mutilation, and is a realistic performance in the style prevailing in France at the end of the fifteenth century. On the base is a gruesome representation of the body of the Canon being given over to the worms. Above this, two saints are helping him to rise from the coffin, and directing his attention towards Heaven. The whole thing is repulsive, but it is interesting as a curiosity. Many historic memorials perished during the Revolution, but some were removed to Versailles and still exist there. They include the tombs of Jean Jouvenel des Ursins (d. 1431) and his wife Michelle de Vitry; the Maréchal Albert de Gondi, Duc de Retz (d. 1602); and his brother Pierre de Gondi, Bishop of Paris (d. 1616). Two monuments have disappeared from the nave which were highly esteemed in their day. Writing of Notre Dame in his Crudities in 1611, Thomas Coryat says: “I could see no notable matter in the cathedral church, saving the statue of Saint Christopher on the right hand at the coming in of the great gate, which is indeed very exquisitely done, all the rest being but ordinary.” The statue so delighted the old traveller that he had eyes for nothing else, for the architecture of Notre Dame is anything but ordinary. The Chapter of the Cathedral did not share his view, for they deliberately destroyed it in 1786. It was presented to the church in 1413 by Antoine des Essarts, whose tomb with his effigy in armour stood near it. Its destruction is remarkable, for colossal things were very much to the taste of those who lived at the end of the seventeenth century. The Revolution is responsible for the destruction of a famous equestrian statue which stood in the nave until 1792. It is generally considered to have been that of Philippe le Bel, clothed in the armour in which he won his victory over the Flemings at Mons-en-Pucelle in 1304. The identity of the statue has, however, been the subject of controversy. Viollet-le-Duc tells us that it represented, not Philippe le Bel, but Philippe VI. (of Valois), who defeated the Flemings at Cassel in 1328. On his return to Paris he rode into the cathedral on horseback in state, and vowed his harness to the Virgin. The Chapter disagree with Viollet-le-Duc, who is, however, supported in his contention by the Benedictine Père Montfaucon, by the writers who continued the chronicle of William of Nangis, and some others. The monument stood close to the last pillar on the right side of the nave. The Pulpit is a modern work, after the design of Viollet-le-Duc. It is of oak, and its decorations include statues of six of the apostles and of angelic figures. Suspended from the vaulting are eight imposing candelabra in bronze-gilt.
The Chapels of the Nave contain singularly few features of historic interest, nor amongst the furniture of their altars are there many recent works of art of outstanding merit. They introduce us, however, to the vast scheme of mural painting which has been carried out from the designs and partly under the direction of Viollet-le-Duc. There can be no doubt that some scheme of polychromatic decoration was legitimate: almost every ancient church in France has indisputable evidence of its employment in the middle ages. The problem which faced Viollet-le-Duc was one of extreme difficulty. The area to be covered was enormous: the variations of light were excessive. Some parts were luminous, even radiant; others were hidden in almost continuous gloom. The schemes of colour had to be adapted to these varying conditions. The use of mosaic was considered and discarded. The expense would have been gigantic, and the material was considered, perhaps rightly, to be inappropriate to the style of architecture. Wall pictures, as such, were regarded as destructive to the ensemble, fatiguing to the eyes and mind, and productive of a certain patchy effect. A series of symbolical patterns of a rigidly conventional type, in which human figures are very sparingly used, was devised. It may be admitted at once that the learning and ingenuity displayed in the design of the scheme were such as might be expected from the most erudite and accomplished French architectural scholar of our time. The minute consideration which Viollet-le-Duc devoted to the subject may be judged from the following passage: “D’abord, la cathédrale de Paris, comme on sait, est orientée de telle façon que tout un côté du monument se présente vers le midi et l’autre vers le nord. Un de ces côtés reçoit donc une lumière plus vive et plus colorée que l’autre. Il a paru qu’il était nécessaire de profiter de cette disposition pour établir l’harmonie générale. Au lieu de combattre l’effet de cette orientation, on a cru devoir l’appuyer. Ainsi, en premier lieu, toutes les fenêtres des chapelles tournées vers le sud sont garnies de grisailles à tons nacrés et froids. De là il resulte qu’en entrant dans le monument on voit un côté de lumière, un côté d’ombre, un côté chaud et brillant et un côté froid. Il en résulte instinctivement pour l’œil un effet général tranquille. Rien n’est plus fatigant pour les yeux qu’un intérieur éclairé par les jours contraires de qualités semblables comme intensité de lumière, valeur de tons et coloration. La peinture des chapelles devait concorder naturellement avec le système de répartition de la lumière. Suivant une règle générale, la tonalité des peintures du côté nord est plus froide que celle du côté du midi. Cependant, comme il faut conserver l’unité, de distance en distance, du côté sud, des tons gris, des tons verts, froids, rappellent l’harmonie générale du côté nord, et, du côté septentrional, des tons chauds rappellent l’harmonie générale du côté méridional.”[11]
[11] “Peintures Murales des Chapelles de Notre-Dame de Paris.” Paris: A. Morel. See the preface by Viollet-le-Duc for further details of his principles of decoration.
In spite of all these elaborate precautions, in spite of so much patience and learning, the result as a whole seems to me unsatisfactory. One wearies of the ingenious geometrical curves, the crosses, the squares, the lozenges, the coloured stars, the excessively and laboriously conventionalised foliage, and the rest. The whole strikes one as dead and mechanical, as mere covering of stone for the sake of doing so. And the colour, though by no means aggressive, is unsatisfying. The experiment was heroic, and the result might certainly have been very much worse, but the stone-work would have been better untouched.