The wonders of the world

by John Loraine Abbott

STRASBURG CATHEDRAL.

The artist who designed this admirable masterpiece of airy open-work, was Erwin, of Steinbach: his plans are still preserved in the town. He died in 1318, when the work was only half finished: it was continued by his son, and afterward by his daughter Sabina. The tower, begun 1277, was not completed till 1439, long after their deaths, and four hundred and twenty-four years after the church was commenced. It was then finished by John Hültz, of Cologne, who was summoned to Strasburg for this end. Had the original design been carried into execution, both the towers would have been raised to the same hight. A doorway, in the south side of the truncated tower, leads to the summit of the spire. On the platform, about two-thirds of the way up, is a telegraph, and a station for the watchmen, who are set to look out for fires. One of them will accompany those who wish to mount the upper spire, and will unlock the iron gate which closes the passage. There is no difficulty or danger in the ascent, to a person of ordinary nerve or steadiness of head; but the stone-work of the steeple is so completely open, and the pillars which support it are so wide apart, and cut so thin, that they more nearly resemble a collection of bars of iron or wood; so that at such a hight one might almost fancy one’s self in a cage, high up, over the city, rather than in the steeple of a church that has stood firm for ages.

The cathedral, as already said, was intended to have two towers, like those of the cathedrals of York and Westminster, in England; but as the expense is enormous, it is probable that the existing tower will remain solitary. This deficiency gives the building a disfigured appearance, especially as the unfinished tower, which is square, rises but half-way. Externally, Strasburg cathedral is distinguished by a light and airy gracefulness, both of structure and material; the sandstone is cut and carved into a thousand forms, some of them, especially in the finished tower, extremely delicate and beautiful. Even the statues and images, which are very numerous, are chiseled out of sandstone, which has an agreeable color of reddish gray. There is not an image of marble upon the whole building. The number of images that cluster around the portal and adhere to its walls is very great: they form a host of little beings, in addition to the statues of full size. Indeed, the profusion of these decorations appears to be extravagant both in point of taste and economy, and some are quite out of place. In a temple, a building devoted to religion, it is not easy to understand the propriety of mounting men on horseback high up in the towers; for such aerial equestrians are to be seen here, sentinel-like, in positions where saints and angels would seem more appropriate ornaments. In the interior of this cathedral there is a simple dignity and grandeur, a holy majesty that is almost overpowering. The magnificent rows of columns of gigantic dimensions and altitude, seen in long perspective, exceed in effect all we can well imagine. The extreme richness of the windows, filled on both sides with stained glass, commemorating, both historically and allegorically, the events of the Bible, and the characters and catastrophes of saints and martyrs, fills both the eye and the mind with delight; and when we turn from gazing to the right and the left along the extended line of lateral windows, and look upon the vast circle of gorgeous light which streams down from the great picture luminary at the end, (a circular window forty-eight feet in diameter, and presenting, in radiating lines, more than the colors of the rainbow,) we are ready to exclaim that Art has not fallen short of Nature in beauty, while she excels her in the permanency of her hues, which have not here been dimmed by the lapse of centuries; and if no violence is committed on this temple, they will be equally brilliant after a thousand years more shall have passed away.

There is in this cathedral a wonderful clock, which has been substituted for an older one that has been removed. The present clock was constructed by a man who is still living; it appears to be about fifty feet high, and more than half that width; it was mute for fifty years, but is now again a living chronometer. Among its many performances are the following. It tells the hours, half-hours and quarter-hours, and the bells which make the report of the flight of time, are struck by automaton figures. A youth strikes the quarter, a mature man the half-hour, and an old man, as the figure of Time, the full hour. This clock tells also the times and seasons of ecclesiastical events, as far as they are associated with astronomical phenomena, and it gives the phases of the moon and the equation of time. At noon, a cock, mounted on a pillar, crows thrice, when a procession of the apostles comes out, and passes in view of the Saviour: among them is Peter, who, shrinking from the eye of his Lord, shows, by his embarrassed demeanor, that he has heard the crowing of the cock, and has fully understood its meaning. Among the movements of its automatons, is that of a beautiful youth, who turns an hour-glass every fifteen minutes. There is also a celestial orrery, that shows the motions of the heavenly bodies with great accuracy and beauty.

CATHEDRAL OF COLOGNE.

The cathedral of Cologne is at once its ornament and its reproach. It was begun in 1248 by the elector Conrad, more than six hundred years ago, but it is not yet finished, although the present Prussian king is expending vast sums upon it. Since the city has passed under the Prussian dominion, and more especially since the accession of the present king, important aid has been obtained from the government. The unfinished towers are rising year by year; and if the annual supplies that have been granted are continued, another fifteen years may possibly see it completed. The estimated expense of finishing it is five million dollars. It is considered as a very fine specimen of the Gothic architecture. One tower, that on the front, is completed. This cathedral is exceedingly gorgeous in decorations, combining all the features that belong to that species of architecture. The choir is finished, and exceeds in splendid beauty almost everything of the kind which the traveler will meet with in Europe. It is very rich in stained glass, and this is true also of the body of the church. Much of the pictured glass is modern: it is set in the same window with the ancient, and is not inferior to it in splendor. The cathedral is paved with rude, common stones, doubtless intended to be temporary only, and to be in due time replaced by marble. It was originally intended that the towers of this cathedral should be five hundred feet high. The dimensions on the ground are four hundred feet by one hundred and eighty. The nave is supported by one hundred columns, of which the middle ones are forty feet in circumference.

CHURCH OF ST. MARK, AT VENICE.

This splendid old church has well been described as “a stupendous pile of oriental magnificence.” A thousand years do not cover the whole period of its existence. It is adorned with the columns and gems of the east, and no wonder, for every Venetian captain of a ship and every traveler of that nation was required to bring home something to adorn this temple: Greece and Constantinople, Palestine and all Europe, have contributed to its embellishment. It is totally unlike almost every other temple. It has round arches and regular domes, and from every part of them, there look down upon you, in permanent mosaic of gold and colored stones, and even precious gems, colossal images of the Saviour, of the virgin mother, of apostles and saints, and of multiform beings of religious allegory, so numerous and various, and so fresh, rich, and gorgeous, that you are quite bewildered, and involuntarily drop your eyes to the floor, where you are almost equally dazzled by the precious marbles, and jaspers, and serpentines, and verd-antique, and red porphyry, disposed in endless variety of most beautiful patterns, as if it had been the work of a magician artist. You read there also the instability of human glory in the worn and mutilated condition of parts of the pavement, and in the waving hollows and upward curves which prove that its foundations were laid in the sea. You again lift your eyes, and in the permanent mosaics (for no perishable frescoes or oil paintings are here) you read in large and distinct historical figures the early Bible history of our race, and the annals of the patriarchal families. Around the church, hang rich lamps of silver and gold. Huge candles and lights perpetually burning, symbolize the immortality of the soul. Passing out of the church, precious columns are on your right and on your left, columns of marble and porphyry brought from Constantinople, and Jerusalem, and St. Jean d’Acre. Lifting your eyes again to the roof, you there see domes, and dome upon dome; minarets and carvings in arabesque, and other rich forms of oriental architecture, with images and statues innumerable, standing as sentinels on all the cornices and angles, and in the niches.

THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN.

Passing on to the last of the church edifices to be described, we come to the cathedral of Milan. A good picture is necessary to give even a faint impression of the richness and harmonious proportions of this wonderful building; but it is possible, from description, to form a correct conception of its magnitude, and of its principal parts. Its length is four hundred and eighty-five feet; breadth, two hundred and fifty-two; breadth across the transepts, two hundred and eighty-seven feet; hight of the nave, one hundred and fifty-three feet. The hight from the pavement to the top of the crown of the Madonna, on the summit of the spire, is three hundred and fifty-five feet. This cathedral is one of the most stupendous piles ever erected; but it is not yet finished, although it has been almost five hundred years in building. Several duomos have been destroyed that once occupied this place. The first cathedral was destroyed by Attila in the fifth century; the second was burnt by accident in 1075; and the third was partially ruined by Frederic Barbarossa. A lofty bell-tower, demolished by him, crushed the duomo in its fall. The first stone of the present cathedral was laid in March, 1386, by G. G. Visconti.