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. Radegonde 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 manifestation of the effect produced by the new demand for more light, which is the most marked feature of the taste in glass of the fourteenth century. The windows which we are now seeking are the four in the north wall between 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 design is that of a number of circles, each circle impinging 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 coloured conventional border. At Bourges the beauties of the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries can be seen at the same time, and each enjoyed, although for different reasons. Here at St. Radegonde, however, the charming thirteenth century rose window above the north portal enjoys an easy victory over the glaring contrasts of its fourteenth century neighbours. 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 object of much veneration. These facts must be taken into consideration, because a church to which crowds of votaries for centuries resorted would surely contain no glass inappropriate to the wealth and high standing of these pilgrims. In fact, a certain hallmark is thus given its windows, which enables us by means of it to judge of the taste of the time.
ANGERS
There 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 medallion windows of the thirteenth century. Now 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 enclosing 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 English 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 support this great weight of glass are so noticeable to the observer that they seem to isolate the panels containing the figures and thus hurt the frame effect of the canopy. Perhaps the pilgrim will find this comment is hypercritical, for the windows are undoubtedly very effective. They were given by Bishop Jean-Michel about 1440.
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 André Robin, when called in 1452 to reglaze the rose windows of the transepts. The stone traceries had been constructed in the thirteenth century, and though it is difficult to adapt later glass to earlier framework, the result here has been very successful, much more so than, for example, 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 representing them. Above are little scenes illustrating the occupations 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 Apocalypse tapestries which hang around the interior. 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 contrasts are good and the architecture in the canopy framing very convincing, both in size and adjustment.
LE MANS
During the course of our former visit to Le Mans Cathedral (see page [60]) we remarked that the transepts were glazed in the fifteenth century. The glass is good and the north rose is particularly well worth seeing. 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 transept 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 between 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 window, 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 counteract the effect by placing beneath it a row of lancets to bring down the whole group. At Le Mans the adjustment in the wall is perfect. Further, the lower range of windows is treated with the respect it deserves, for not only is the rose beautifully glazed, but the lancets have also received the artist’s careful attention: 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 perpendicularly by mullions. The subject, The Crowning of the Virgin, is admirably treated, and nothing could be more delightful than the numerous angels singing and playing upon various musical instruments. For the honour of the fifteenth century glazier it is well that we should see this splendid effect, because we might otherwise conclude that, notwithstanding his brilliant success in producing canopy panels, he never grasped the full possibilities of the rose window.