Although painting on glass was from that time carried on with considerable activity, in many cases it was still very far from being accomplished by the processes which were destined to make it one of the most remarkable productions of art. The application of the brush to vitrifiable colours was not generally adopted. In the examples of this period that remain to our days, we indeed find large cives cast in white glass, upon which characters were painted by the artist; but, as the colour was not designed to be incorporated with the glass by the action of fire, with a view to ensure the preservation of the painting, another transparent but thick cive was placed over the first and closely soldered to it.
While glass-painting was thus seeking to perfect its processes, mosaic work gradually declined. Only a very small number of mosaics of the tenth and eleventh centuries exist at the present day, and these, moreover, are very incorrect in design, and entirely wanting in taste and colour.
In the twelfth century all the arts began to revive. The fear of the end of the world, which had thrown mankind into a strange state of perturbation, was dissipated. The Christian faith everywhere stirred up the zeal of its disciples. Magnificent cathedrals with imposing arches sprang up in various places, and the art of the glass-maker came to the aid of architecture in order to diffuse over the interiors consecrated to worship the light, both prismatic and harmonious, which affords the calm, necessary for holy meditation. But though, in the painted windows of this period, we are forced to admire the ingenious combinatian of colours for the rose-work (rose-windows), the case is very different as regards the drawing and colouring of the designs. The figures are generally traced in rough, stiff lines on glass of a dull tint, which absorbs all the expression of the heads; the entire drapery of the costume is heavy; the figure is spoilt by the folds of
Fig. 231.—St. Timothy the Martyr, Coloured Glass of the end of the Eleventh Century, found in the Church of Neuwiller (Bas-Rhin) by M. Bœswillwald. (From the “History of Glass-Painting,” by M. Lasteyrie.)
its vestments as if it were enclosed in a long sheath. This is the general character of the examples of that period as they are known to us ([Fig. 231]).
The painted windows which Suger made to adorn the abbey-church of St. Denis, some of which exist in our days, date from the twelfth century. The abbot made inquiries in every country, and gathered together at a great expense the best artists he could find, in order to assist in this decoration. The Adoration of the Magi, the Annunciation, the History of Moses, and various allegories, are there represented in the chapel of the Virgin and those of St. Osman and St. Hilary. Among the principal pictures may be also observed a portrait of Suger himself at the feet of the Virgin. The borders surrounding the subjects may be considered as models of harmony and good arrangement of effect; but still the taste shown in the selection and combination of colours is carried to the highest point in the subjects themselves, the designs of which are very excellent.
In the Church of St. Maurice, at Angers, we find examples of a rather earlier date—perhaps the most ancient specimens of painted windows in France; these are the history of St. Catherine and that of the Virgin, which, in truth, are not equal in merit, as regards execution and taste, to the ancient windows of the Church of St. Denis.
We still have to mention some fragments contained in the Church of St. Serge, and the chapel of the Hospital, in the town of Angers; also a glass-window in the Abbey of Fontevrault; another in the Church of St. Peter, at Dreux, in which is represented Queen Anne of Brittany. We will, in conclusion, mention one of the windows of the choir in the Church of the Trinity, at Vendôme; it represents the Glorification of the Virgin, who bears on her forehead an aureola, the shape of which, called amandaire,[29] has furnished archæologists with a subject for long discussions; some being desirous of proving that this aureola, which does not appear to be depicted in the same way on any other painted window, tends to show that the works of the Poitevine glass-makers, to whom it is attributed, had been subject to the influence of the Byzantine school; others assert that the almond-shaped crown is a symbol exclusively reserved for the Virgin. Before we proceed to the examples handed down to us from the twelfth century, we must mention some remains of glass to be seen at Chartres, Mans, Sens, and Bourges ([Fig. 232]), &c. We may also add, as an incident not without interest, that a chapter of the order of the Cistercians, considering the great expense to which the acquisition of painted windows led, prohibited the use of them in churches under the rule of St. Bernard.
