ECOUEN

Ecouen is generally visited because of its fine château, built on the crest of a hill and entirely surrounded 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 château which lures us hither, but the parish church down in the town that nestles at the foot of the castle walls. The château has lost its old glass, the two panels from its chapel showing 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. For us, therefore, the château has lost most of its charm; if you wish to inspect it you must obtain a carte d’entrée from the Chancellerie 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 windows, 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 contain, 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 (1563), 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 château, but now at Chantilly, and there is still a fourth pair in the nearby church of Mesnil-Aubry which are the latest of all, for the Constable 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 Chantilly 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 sensible thing to lowering the altar back—they transferred to a little northern chapel the panels it obscured. The whole northerly side of the choir opens out into a chapel whose northern and eastern ends are lighted by three large embrasures filled with excellent 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. The traceries of the three easternmost choir embrasures are filled with blue eaglets on a golden ground, the insignia of the Montmorencys. This same treatment of the traceries may also be remarked in the chapel of the château; in fact, they are all that remains there of the original glazing. We have already admired this same form of decoration over the north portal at the Montmorency Church.

It seems a pity that the Ecouen glass now at Chantilly 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 château of Ecouen.


CHANTILLY

At one time or another during our glass pilgrimages we have happened upon examples of other mediæval arts and crafts which all combine to make France so absorbingly interesting. It has been reserved 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 earlier 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 stateliness of the gardens. One is not allowed to visit the château 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 château and grounds. The beautiful building with its priceless collections was the private property of the Duc d’Aumale and was by him presented to the Institut de France. In a long low gallery especially constructed for them, and which receives all its light through them, is a much travelled and widely discussed 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 workmanship 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 fact 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 designs from well-known Italian paintings. Until recently they were attributed to that versatile master of many arts, Bernard Palissy, but that has been definitely disproved. They are now generally acknowledged to be the work of Cocxyen, a Flemish student of Van Orley (who made the windows of Ste. Gudule in Brussels), and the Italian influence is explained by the fact that he studied in Rome. These panels are dated 1542-4 and were originally made for the windows of the Salle des Gardes at the Château of Ecouen upon the order of Constable Anne de Montmorency. The Revolution 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 Condé, when visiting 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 château at Chantilly, where they have since remained. This picturesque tale serves to show that stained glass panels were not then regarded as necessarily stationary. We have seen several other instances of this lack of respect for their stout iron bars. They were beautiful and valuable, and therefore, when the occasion arose, they were removed! Excellent as is the work upon these panels and graceful 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 drawing—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 becoming painted pictures done in the manner of paintings on canvas. The artist no longer remembers that stained glass is a separate art and that he has certain advantages in technique over the oil painter, just as the latter has over him.

The small ante-chapel has on each side a tall window. In the middle of each is set a large panel of sixteenth century glass, the one on the right showing five Montmorency daughters kneeling in a row, attended by Ste. Agathe, and the one on the left their five brothers, also kneeling, and similarly attended by St. John. The remainder of the embrasure 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 former differ markedly. The face of the smallest boy is most diverting. His hands are clasped in prayer, but unlike his more devout brothers and sisters, his eyes are not turned toward the altar, but he is gazing out into the chapel with childish curiosity. In these two panels the leads are not so cumbrously intrusive, but there is a lesson which every glass artist should learn from an inspection of the carefully painted windows at Ecouen, Montmorency and Chantilly. He 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 conviction that the more delicate the design the less it can afford to quarrel with the leading.