Some interesting saints are carved on the north portal of Amiens, among others, St. Ulpha, a virgin who is chiefly renowned for having lived in a chalk cave near Amiens, where she was greatly annoyed by frogs. Undaunted, she prayed so lustily and industriously, that she finally succeeded in silencing them!
The thirteenth century revival in France was really a new birth; almost more than a Renaissance. It is a question among archæologists if France was not really more original and more brilliant than Italy in this respect. A glance at such figures as the Virgin from the Gilded Portal at Amiens, and another Virgin from the same cathedral, will show the change which came over the spirit of art in that one city during the thirteenth century. The figure on the right door of the western façade is a work of the early part of the century. She is grave and dignified in bearing, her hand extended in favour, while the Child gives the blessing in calm majesty. This figure has the spirit of a goddess receiving homage, and bestowing grace: it is conventional and monumental. The Virgin from the Gilded Portal is of a later generation. Her attention is given to the Child, and her aspect is human and spirited,—almost merry. It may be said to be less religious than the other statue, but it is filled with more modern grace and charm, and glorifies the idea of happy maternity: every angle and fold of the drapery is full of life and action without being over realistic. There is much in common between this pleasing statue and the Virgins of the Pisani in Italy.
Professor Moore considers the statue of the Virgin on the Portal of the Virgin at the west end of Notre Dame in Paris as about the best example of Gothic figure sculpture in France. He says further that the finest statues in portals of any age are those of the north porch at Paris. The Virgin here is marvellously fine also. It combines the dignity and monumental qualities of the first of the Virgins at Amiens, with the living buoyancy of the Virgin on the Gilded Portal. It is the clear result of a study of nature grafted on Byzantine traditions. It dates from 1250.
While sculpture was practised chiefly by monastic artists, it retained the archaic and traditional elements. When trained carvers from secular life began to take the chisel, the spirit of the world entered in. For a time this was a marked improvement: later the pendulum swung too far, and decadence set in.
A favourite device on carved tympana above portals was the Last Judgment. Michael with the scales, engaged in weighing souls, was the tall central figure, and the two depressed saucers of the scales help considerably in filling the triangular space usually left over a Gothic doorway. At Chartres, there is an example of this subject, in which Mortal Sin, typified by a devil and two toads, are being weighed against the soul of a departed hero. As is customary in such compositions, a little devil is seen pulling on the side of the scale in which he is most interested!
One of the most cheerful and delightful figures at Chartres is that of the very tall angel holding a sun dial, on the corner of the South tower. A certain optimistic inconsequence is his chief characteristic, as if he really believed that the hours bore more of happiness than of sorrow to the world.
There is no limit to the originality and the symbolic messages of the Gothic grotesques. Two whole books might be written upon this subject alone to do it justice; but a few notable instances of these charming little adornments to the stern structures of the Middle Ages must be noticed here. The little medallions at Amiens deserve some attention. They represent the Virtues and Vices, the Follies, and other ethical qualities. Some of them deal with Scriptural scenes. "Churlishness" is figured by a woman kicking over her cup-bearer. Apropos of her attitude, Ruskin observes that the final forms of French churlishness are to be discovered in the feminine gestures in the can-can. He adds: "See the favourite print shops in Paris." Times have certainly changed little!
One of these Amiens reliefs, signifying "Rebellion," is that of a man snapping his fingers at his bishop! Another known as "Atheism" is variously interpreted. A man is seen stepping out of his shoes at the church porch. Ruskin explains this as meaning that the infidel is shown in contradistinction to the faithful who is supposed to have "his feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace;" but Abbé Roze thinks it more likely that this figure represents an unfrocked monk abandoning the church.
One of these displays the beasts in Nineveh, and a little squat monkey, developing into a devil, is wittily characterized by Ruskin as reversing the Darwinian theory.
The statues above these little quatrefoils are over seven feet in height, differing slightly, and evidently portrait sculptures inspired by living models, adapted to their more austere use in this situation.