It must not be forgotten that the great churches of the Middle Ages were, in a sense, the schools of the period. The people, not being able to read, were instructed through the medium of sermons and stage plays; they saw the histories of Saints, the story of the Gospel, and legendary and historical matter carved in wood or stone upon all sides of them, and they learnt their moralities by picture tales and clerical discourses. Art was literally the handmaid of Religion, and the great teacher; and being enriched by divers gifts, the churches became receptacles for all kinds of treasures. Guillaume Durand, in his Rational des Divins Offices, speaks of rare things, such as stuffed crocodiles, ostrich eggs, and skeletons of whales, besides gold and silver vessels, intagli, and cameii, as attractions for the people, on the principle that he who comes to see may stay to pray. Churches were, in fact, museums, and places in which to transact business; the naves constantly being thus used.
Notre-Dame has two towers at the west end, and a flèche over the intersection of the nave, choir and transepts. This is modern; and why? Because, in 1787, an architect was found who considered it well to "amputate" the old one. Listen to Victor Hugo: "Un architect de bon gout l'a amputé, et a cru qu'il suffisait de masquer la plaie avec ce large emplâtre de plomb, qui ressemble au couvercle d'une marmite"—doubtless that strange species of turret so common in London, familiarly termed a pepper-box.
The western façade, though not so rich as that of Reims, is nevertheless exceedingly beautiful. It is divided into three parts in its width, and into four stories in its elevation.
Here is what our old friend Dibden says of it in his time: "Of Notre-Dame, the West front, with its marygold windows, is striking both from its antiquity and richness. It is almost black from age" (would it were so now!)—"but the alto-relievos, and especially those above the doors, stand out in almost perfect condition. These ornaments are rather fine of their kind. There is, throughout the whole of this West front, a beautiful keeping, and the towers are here somewhat more endurable, and therefore somewhat in harmony. Over the North transept door, on the outside, is a figure of the Virgin—once holding the infant Jesus in her arms. Of the latter only the feet remain. The drapery of this figure is in perfectly good taste, a fine specimen of that excellent art which prevailed towards the end of the XIIIth century. Above is an alto-relievo subject of the Slaughter of the Innocents. The soldiers are in quilted armour. I entered the cathedral from the Western door, during service-time. A sight of the different clergymen engaged in the office filled me with melancholy, and made me predict sad things of what was probably to come to pass! These clergymen were old, feeble, wretchedly attired in their respective vestments, and walked and sung in a tremulous and faltering manner. The architectural effect of the interior is not very imposing, although the solid circular pillars of the nave, the double aisles round the choir, and the old basso-relievo representations of the Life of Christ upon the exterior walls of the choir, cannot fail to afford the antiquary very singular satisfaction. The choir appeared to be not unlike that of S. Denis." Notre-Dame should be visited by lovers of plain song. To hear forty men and boys chant Gregorian tones, with ad libitum accompaniments upon a small organ, is a treat not to be forgotten. And note, the small organ, for the large one at the end of the nave is only used for voluntaries; thundering accompaniments to the voices being unknown in Paris.
All the six doors of Notre-Dame bear distinctive names—the Porte du Jugement, the Porte de la Vierge, and the Porte Ste. Anne, at the west end; the Porte du Cloître, the Porte St. Marcel and the Porte Rouge, at the east end. Each of these is divided into two openings by a central pier, supporting a figure and surmounted by a tympanum; over which is a deep voussure, peopled with sculptures innumerable. Tradition formerly recorded a flight of thirteen steps rising to the west front; but the excavations made in 1847 proved this to have been a mistake. If steps existed anywhere, they were probably on the side of the episcopal palace near the southern tower and leading down to the river. At the same time there is no doubt that the church would gain in effect were it raised above the roadway as is the case at Amiens. At present it is even a little lower than the place, but allowing for the rising of the ground during seven centuries, it is quite possible that the cathedral originally had not the sunken appearance it has at present. In the niches upon the great buttress are tour figures; S. Denis and S. Étienne at the extremities, and two women crowned in the centre. These represent a very common conceit of the Middle Ages, the Church and the Synagogue, the one triumphant, the other defeated.
Above the portals is the gallery of the Kings of Judah, the ancestors of the Virgin, and perhaps typical of the sovereigns of France. The gallery of the Virgin is still higher, and upon it in the centre stands the queen of Heaven with attendant Angels, Adam and Eve being above the side doors. Higher still we come to the tower galleries presided over by delightful monsters of various zoological tribes. Nothing gives a visitor to Notre-Dame a better notion of the richness of its sculptures than mounting to this gallery, whence he obtains a full view of the roof and the towers, with their numerous pinnacles, crockets, finials, gargoyles and statues.
Unfortunately the great central portal was hopelessly wrecked by Soufflot in 1771 in order to increase its width for processions; it is one of the many examples which prove the fact that the "stupidity of man" has done more harm to old buildings than time or even disastrous riots and revolutions. In 1773 and 1787, so-called restorations, by architects who ought to have known better, still further mutilated the church.
