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 provide an opportunity of testing our ability to judge glass. At first sight we are convinced that they are of true thirteenth century mosaic work, and might continue 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 repaired and restored in 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 touchstone 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 on 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.
LAON
Those proceeding upon this pilgrimage by automobile or bicycle, will find a treat awaiting them between Soissons and Laon. The road lies through Coucy-le-Château, the impressive and well-preserved ruin of a massive mediæval 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 cathedral 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 interesting 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 memory 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 understood and practised in the thirteenth century. One’s memory of this rose is blue with hints of green, while of the eastern series it is reddish purple. The centre 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 medallions, 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 modern glass, it would cause a decided improvement. At St. Quentin, we are more than reconciled to the presence 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 so 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 unusual; 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.
13th CENTURY ROSE AND LANCETS, LAON.
Medallions are admirably suited to rounded apertures in Rose, and assist in producing effect of huge blossom; later the lines radiated more from the centre and tended toward a wheel effect.
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.