were placed in the centre. Probably from the first, the Church, in her use of the figure, spiritualized the meaning of the heathen story, as we know was her wont in other cases; and a labyrinth formed in mosaic on the floor of an ancient basilica at Orleansville, Algeria, shows [p 189] that presently the mythological symbols gave place entirely to obviously Christian ones. In this last-named instance, the centre is occupied by the words Sancta Ecclesia.
About the twelfth century these curious figures became very popular, and a considerable number dating from that period still exist. They have for the most part been constructed in parti-coloured marbles on some portion of the floor of the church. One was laid down in 1189 at S. Maria in Trastevere, in Rome; S. Vitale, Ravenna, contains another; and the parish church of S. Quentin has a third. Others formerly existed at Amiens Cathedral (made in 1288 and destroyed in 1825), at Rheims (made about 1240 and destroyed in 1779), and at Arras (destroyed at the Revolution). These are much larger than the examples before noticed; the two Italian examples are each about 11 feet across, but the French ones greatly exceed this. Those of S. Quentin and Arras were each over 34 feet in diameter, and the others were somewhat larger; Amiens possessed the largest, measuring 42 feet. France had another example of a similar kind at Chartres.
The Christian meaning which was read into [p 190] these complicated designs was more emphatically expressed in these twelfth-century instances. The centre is usually occupied by a cross, round which, in some cases, were arranged figures of bishops, angels, and others.
The introduction of these large labyrinths, together with the name which came at this time to be applied to them in France, namely, Chemins de Jerusalem, suggests the new use to which such arrangements now began to be put. It is well known that in some cases substitutes for the great pilgrimage to Jerusalem were allowed to be counted as of almost equal merit. Thus the Spaniards, so long as they had not expelled the infidel from their own territory, were forbidden to join the Crusades to the Holy Land; and were permitted to substitute a journey to the shrine of S. Jago, at Compostella, for one to the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. By an extension of the same principle, especially when the zeal of Christendom for pilgrimages began to cool, easy substitutes for the more exacting devotion were found in many ways. The introduction of the Stations of the Cross is ascribed to this cause, the devout following in imagination of the footsteps of the Saviour in His last sufferings, [p 191] being accounted equivalent to visiting the holy places; and somewhat similarly, the maze, or labyrinth, is said to have been pressed into the service of religion, the following out (probably upon the knees) of its long and tortuous path- way, being reckoned as a simple substitute for a longer pilgrimage.
From such a use as this, it was no great step to the employment of the maze as a means of penance in other cases. The whole of the intricate pathway was intended to remind the penitent of the difficulties which beset the Christian course; and the centre, which could only be reached by surmounting them, was often called heaven (Ciel). Nor could such a penance be deemed a light one. Though occupying so small a space of ground, the mazy path was so involved as to reach a considerable length, whence it was sometimes named the League (La lièue). The pathway at Chartres measures 668 feet; at Sens was a maze which required some 2,000 steps to gain the centre. An hour is said to have been often needed to accomplish the journey, due allowance being made for the prayers which had to be recited at certain fixed stations of it, or throughout its whole course.
[p 192]
At S. Omer are one or two examples of the labyrinth. One at the Church of Notre Dame has figures of towns, mountains, rivers, and wild beasts depicted along the pathway, to give, no doubt, greater realism to the pilgrimage. The existing drawing of another, which has been destroyed, is inscribed, “The way of the road to Jerusalem at one time marked on the floor of the Church of S. Bertin.” Many of these designs are not only ingenious, but beautiful. In the Chapterhouse at Bayeux is one enriched with heraldic figures; that at Chartres has its central circle relieved with six cusps, while an engrailed border encloses the whole work. A circular shape was apparently the most popular; the maze at S. Quentin, with some others, however, is octagonal. The pathway is usually marked by coloured marbles, sometimes the darker, sometimes the lighter shades in the design being used for the purpose; at Sens, lead has been employed to indicate it.
The Revolution, as we have seen, led to the destruction of several ecclesiastical labyrinths; some, however, became a source of annoyance to the worshippers, from children attempting to trace the true pathway during the time of [p 193] service, and they were removed in consequence. Labyrinths of this kind do not appear to have been introduced into England, the only instance known to the present writer being quite a modern one. This is in the church porch at Alkborough, in Lincolnshire, where, at the recent restoration, the design of a local maze (to be noticed further hereafter) was reproduced.
If England, however, has not imitated the continent in this respect, she has struck out a line no less interesting, which has remained almost exclusively her own; namely, in the mazes cut in the green turf of her meadows. Shakespeare has an allusion to these in the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” (Act iii., 3) where Titania says,
“The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green