Kitabı oku: «The Cathedrals and Churches of the Rhine», sayfa 10

The nave is undoubtedly very broad, but it has double aisles which satisfactorily accounts for this.

Professor Freeman draws a significant contrast between the outline of the cathedrals at Cologne and Amiens.

"Amiens has no outline," says he; meaning that there is a paucity of the picturesqueness of irregularity in its sky-line. "Only at Cologne," he continues, "is this outline seen in its perfect state, and Cologne is a French church on German soil, just as Westminster is a French church on English soil."

Indeed, among all the great cathedrals it is only at Cologne that we find a pair of western towers with any kind of dignity and proportion.

The west front of Cologne is pretty much all tower, with the nave rather rudely crowded between the two. These towers are in reality of such vast bulk that they outflank the nave considerably, as do their smaller counterparts at Wells, though here at Cologne the great transepts overflow the width even of these great towers of the façade.

There is a noble simplicity and yet a wealth of warmth and feeling in this church, which runs the whole gamut of Gothic, from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries. From this latter date, however, the style did not change, but was carried out with that devotion to the original plan which should have inspired the imitators of Gothic in our own time to have done better than they have.

The clerestoried choir of Cologne more nearly follows the French variety than does any other in Germany; indeed no other in Germany in any way approaches the dignity and harmony of those magnificent chevets which the French builders, for a hundred years before Cologne, had so proudly reared.

Metz in a way also reflects the same motive, though that cathedral in many other respects is French.

The apside is supported by twenty-eight flying buttresses, which again are an echo from France; this time of Beauvais; and certainly, if they do not excel the French type, they at least quite rival it in beauty and grace.

One enters through a magnificently planned vestibule and comes at once, not into darkness, but into a subdued and religious atmosphere which is quite in keeping with the spirit of devotion.

There are numerous monuments scattered about, and there are eight fifteenth-century tapestries from the Gobelins' factory.

The organ-case is unusually ornate and dates from 1572.

The pulpit is not perhaps so elaborate as one might expect from the general splendour surrounding it, but its sculpture is distinctly good.

In the choir, on the screens above the stalls, is a series of restored frescoes which came to light after a coating of whitewash had been removed. They were admirably restored by Steinle in the mid-nineteenth century and are very beautiful. The decorations depict scenes from the life of the Virgin and are also reproduced in part in the glass of the lady-chapel.

A modern altar, in the mediæval style, has replaced the seventeenth-century Renaissance work, which is manifestly for the better, judging from the old engravings that one sees of the former unlovely altar.

The glass throughout is hardly of the excellence that one might expect, but the effect is undeniably good. A portion of that in the Chapel of the Three Kings is a relic of the old Romanesque cathedral, while that of the north aisle of the nave dates from the time of Dürer.

That of the windows of the Chapel of the Three Kings has been called one of the most beautiful pages out of the book of the fifteenth-century glass-worker. The subject referred to is, of course, "The Adoration of the Magi."

The capitals of the columns of the nave and choir are superbly foliaged, and add much to the general sumptuous appearance of the interior.

Before the Chapel of the Three Kings are many tombs; the most remarkable being that which covered the remains of Marie de Medici, who died in exile at Cologne in 1642. One knows that after the death of the crafty Richelieu the body of the queen was transported to St. Denis, there to rest with others of the long line of kings and queens there buried, but the heart remained at Cologne, and, next to the relics of the Three Kings, it is the chief "sight" of interest to inquisitive tourists.

The casket in which repose the relics of the Three Magi is a masterwork of the goldsmith's art of the twelfth century. Incrusted on its surface were more than fifteen hundred precious jewels, although some have disappeared in the course of the ages. Among them is a topaz of monstrous size, which excites the admiration of all who set eyes upon it.

In 1794 the canons transported the casket to Arnsberg, to Prague, and to Frankfort, their financial difficulties of the time forcing them to sell the crowns with which the skulls were adorned. Since then other coronets have replaced the first, set with gems and stones brought from Bohemia.

On the 23d July, 1164, these relics were first deposited in the ancient cathedral, from which they were subsequently transferred to the new edifice amid much ceremony.

In their first resting-place they were guarded only by a simple iron grille up to the time when the archbishop Maximilian Henry constructed the ædicule which encloses them to-day.

On the pediment of this screen is sculptured an "Adoration of the Magi," by Michel Van der Voorst of Antwerp. There are also figures of St. Felix and St. Nabor, and two female figures bearing the arms of the Metropolitan Chapter.

On the frieze is the following inscription:

TRIBUS AB ORIENTE REGIBUS

DEVICTO IN AGNITIONE VERI NUMINIS

MUNDO

CAPITULUM METROPOL EREXIT

And above the great window, whose grille is opened on ceremonial occasions to allow the public a better view of the relics, is graven the following:

CORPORA SANCTORUM RECUBANT HIC

TERNA MAGORUM

EX HIS SUBLATUM NIHIL EST ALIBIVE

LOCATUM

Finally one reads the following single line placed between the columns at the right and left of the relics:

"Et apertis thesauris suis, obtulerunt munera."

Behind the reliquary which encloses the skulls is a bas-relief in marble representing the solemn journey by which the relics were first brought from Milan. A bas-relief in bronze, richly gilded, represents an "Adoration." It was the gift of Jacques de Croy, Duc de Cambrai, in 1516. The window above contains some fine glass of the thirteenth century.

Before the high altar are four great candelabra of reddish copper, cast at Liège in 1770.

The sculptured stalls of wood, which range themselves in a double row in the choir, are notable for the profusion of figures of men and animals which they show in their carving. They are perhaps not comparable with the stalls at Amiens and at Antwerp, nor with those in Ste. Cécile at Albi in France; but they merit, nevertheless, a very high rank for excellence, and are very extensive as to size and number.

To sum up, the cathedral at Cologne has had the good fortune to have been carried out in a pure and distinct German form of Gothic without the interpolation of any outré disfigurements. It is a sumptuous edifice, perhaps the grandest, in general effect, of any church in Europe, not even forgetting the splendid cathedrals at Reims, Amiens, or Chartres, all of which stand out from among their surroundings in much the same imposing manner as does Cologne.

One recognizes even to-day on the stones of Cologne's cathedral certain cryptogramic marks which are supposed to be merely the identifying marks of some particular stonemason's labour, and are not, as has been doubtfully advanced from time to time, of any other significance whatever.

XXVI
THE CHURCHES OF COLOGNE

The popular interest in Cologne, the ancient Colonia Agrippina of the Romans, and the romantic incidents connected with it, are so great that one might devote a large volume to the city, and then the half of its legend and history would not have been told.

Cologne is one of the most ancient cities of Germany. It takes its place beside Trèves and Mayence as one of the earliest seats of Christianity; but the actual date of the establishment of the church in Cologne is lost in obscurity.

There were undoubtedly persons professing the Christian faith in the colony in the third century, and toward the year 312 the Emperor Constantine, having embraced the faith himself, gave his protection to its adherents throughout his colonies.

The church of St. Peter at Cologne contains a painting presented to it by Rubens in memory of the fact that he was baptized before the altar of this church. Of this picture, a "Crucifixion of St. Peter," Sir Joshua Reynolds wrote:

"It was painted a little time before Rubens's death. The body and head of the saint are the only good parts in this picture, which, however, is finely coloured and well drawn; but the figure bends too suddenly from the thighs, which are ill drawn, or, rather, in a bad taste of drawing; as is likewise his arm, which has a short interrupted outline. The action of the malefactors has not that energy which he usually gave to his figures. Rubens, in his letters to Gildorp, expresses his own approbation of this picture, which he says was the best he ever painted; he likewise expresses his content and happiness in the subject, as being picturesque; this is likewise natural to such a mind as that of Rubens, who was perhaps too much looking about him for the picturesque, or something uncommon. A man with his head downwards is certainly a more extraordinary object than if the head were in its natural place. Many parts of this picture are so feebly drawn, and with so tame a pencil, that I cannot help suspecting that Rubens died before he had completed it, and that it was finished by some of his scholars."

St. Maria in Capitola, one of Cologne's famous churches, stands on the site of the ancient capital of the Romans. It is one of the most perfect examples extant of a triapsed church, though the three apses themselves are supposed to have been an afterthought added in the twelfth century, whereas the nave dates from the century before. The nave, too, has an interpolation or addition to its original form in that a Gothic roof was added some three hundred years after it had first been covered with a plain wooden ceiling.

The three apses unfold grandly, with the high altar in the most easterly or middle termination.

The general effect of the interior is decidedly high coloured, with much polychromatic decoration and painted glass. In the Hardenrath chapel are found the most striking of these mural decorations, which are interesting as illustrating a certain phase of art, if not for their supreme excellence.

St. Pantaleon's claims to be the most ancient church in the city, dating as far back as A. D. 980, when it was reared from the stones of the Roman bridge which before that time stretched across to Deutz. The chapel of the Minorites contains the tomb of Duns Scotus, and a horrible tale is told of his entombment alive, of his revival in his coffin, his struggle to escape, and his body being found afterward at the closed door of the sepulchre, with the hand eaten off by himself ere he died of hunger.

A peculiarity of Cologne's churches – for it is possessed by the Apostles' Church, St. Cunibert's, and St. Andrew's – is the western apse.

Such a member is not unique to Cologne, for it exists in the cathedral at Nevers, in France, and there are yet other examples in Germany; but its use is sufficiently uncommon to warrant speculation as to its purpose.

The Apostles' Church has this feature most highly developed. The edifice is a noble pile dating from early in the eleventh century, but reconstructed two centuries later, to which period it really belongs so far as its general characteristics are concerned.

Not all the church architecture of Cologne is Gothic; indeed the churches of the Apostles and St. Martin each show the Lombard influence to a marked degree. The three apses, and their round arches and galleries, are like a bit of Italy transported northward.

St. Maria in Capitola, founded by the wife of Pepin, has the same characteristics, while St. Martin has the outline of quite the ideal Romanesque church. Its great tower, which fills the square between the apses, is certainly one of the most beautiful to be seen on a long round of European travel. This tower must date from the latter years of the twelfth century, and yet, although of a period contemporary with the Gothic of Notre Dame de Paris, it is so thoroughly Romanesque that one wonders that, in Cologne at least, the style ever died out as it did when the great Gothic cathedral was conceived.

St. Andrews is another triapsed church, and is considered one of the best and most elaborately designed fabrics of the Romanesque type on the Rhine, particularly in respect to its central tower, the nave, and the west transept.

There has been much late Gothic rebuilding, but the chief characteristics of the earlier period distinctly predominated. The apses are polygonal, but it is thought that they may, in earlier times, have been semicircular like St. Martin's, St. Mary's, and the Apostles' Churches.

St. Gérêon's is an octagonal church similar to that of Charlemagne at Aix-la-Chapelle. Even more than the latter it has been altered, rebuilt, and added to, but the original outline is still readily traced in spite of the fact that its foundations may have come down from the fifth century. It is more difficult, however, to follow its evolution in detail than it is in the case of Charlemagne's shrine at Aix-la-Chapelle.

The style is distinctly Rhenish, though not alone in Germany do such round churches exist; one recalls the Templars' Church in London and the famous example at Ravenna in Italy.

The great decagon of St. Gérêon's is covered with a domed roof, also divided into ten sections by groins or ribs, which rise gracefully from the slender shafts at the angles, meeting at the apex in a boss.

The ancient collegiate buildings which formerly surrounded St. Gérêon's have disappeared, but there is yet an extensive structure of a more modern date which enfolds the central pile. The easterly apse is low and rectangular, while the façade of the west is flanked by two Romanesque unspired towers.

St. Gérêon's is one of the most curiously constructed churches of the middle ages. It was founded by the Empress Hélène in honour of the Théban martyrs, who, to the number of three hundred and ninety-five, died for their faith, with their captains, Gérêon and Gregory, toward the end of the third century, in the reign of the Emperor Diocletian.

One enters by a rectangular porch, where are disposed some fragments of Roman remains. The rotunda, or decagon, so reminiscent of Aix-la-Chapelle, dates from a period contemporary therewith, so far as its lower walls are concerned, but the upper portions are of the twelfth century, at least.

Below the arches are the chapels which surround the decagon in symmetrical fashion. Above is the organ and the adjoining choir walls. In the latter are walled up innumerable skulls of the companions of St. Gérêon, and in each of the chapels is a great sarcophagus, also containing the bones of the martyrs. Altogether the thought which arises is not a pleasant one, no matter how worthy the object of preserving such a vast quantity of human remains.

The high altar is quite isolated, and the pavement of the choir itself, which is aisleless, rises behind it to a height of a dozen or more steps, – a frequent occurrence in the Rhine churches.

The apse has an insertion of Gothic windows, but the eleventh-century Romanesque features are still prominent.

In the choir are a series of flamboyant Gothic stalls, above which are monumental tablets let into the wall.

At the entrance of the choir are two colossal statues of the martyred saints, then seven others, behind which, at the base of the apside, is another altar.

The tapestries which surround the choir are of the "haut-lisse" weaving, and represent the life history of Joseph.

Beneath the choir is a vast, antique crypt, which contains yet other sarcophagi filled, presumably, with human bones. The pavement is composed of fragments of antique mosaic.

The Jesuit church at Cologne is one of the few Renaissance examples on the Rhine. It is, however, most unchurchly, when judged by French standards.

Certainly this German example is highly beautiful both in design and execution; but it is not churchly, and its great cylindrical columns, strung together by a gallery, give the appearance of a foyer in an opera-house or of a modern railway-station, rather than that of a place of worship.

It is all nave; there are no transepts, and there is no choir properly speaking, but merely a chancel, not very deep and again very unchurchly, with two ugly lights on either side, and a sort of pagoda-like screen which is decidedly theatrical. The carving of the pulpit and the disposition of all the decoration is extremely bizarre, but undeniably excellent in execution.

Cologne is an archbishopric which has for suffragan sees, Trèves, Münster, and Paderborn.

The abbeys and churches which were erected in Cologne, when the archbishop first took up his residence there in the latter part of the eighth century, were numerous and exceedingly rich in endowment. So much was this so that Cologne was given the name of the "Holy City of the north."

The Jews of Cologne were a numerous body, but a decree of 1425 drove them all from the city. In 1618 a new decree likewise expelled the Protestants. Time regulated all this, but in those days Cologne clung proudly to the position which she had attained as a champion of the orthodox religion.

In all, there were two abbeys, two collegiate churches, the cathedral, forty-nine chapels, thirty-nine monasteries, two convents for women, and many commanderies of the Teutonic order and the Order of Malta.

Near Cologne is the fine old Cistercian abbey of Altenburg. It contains some very ancient coloured glass, perhaps the most beautiful of its era extant, for it is thought to date from between 1270 and 1300, when the art first attained any great excellence.

That which remains to-day shows foliage and diaper in great variety, with no figures whatever, this being a distinct tenet of the Cistercian builders, who, in the severity of their rule, frowned down all decorative effects that bordered upon the frivolous.

These windows at Altenburg, being the best examples of their kind, are the distinct artistic attraction of the great abbey, which is a dozen or more miles distant from Cologne.

The choir was commenced in 1255 and completed almost immediately; but the entire main fabric was not finished until well on in the century following.

XXVII
AIX-LA-CHAPELLE

As Rouen in Normandy was known as "the city of the Conqueror," so Aix-la-Chapelle became known, at a much earlier date, as "the city of Charlemagne."

Charlemagne was more than a conqueror; he was a statesman, with a boundless ambition. He founded the German Empire, and changed tribes of lawless barbarians into a civilized people. At Aix-la-Chapelle he received the embassies of the Caliph of Baghdad and of the Saxon Kings of England, and there he endeavoured to advance the enlightenment of his people by the founding of monasteries and by giving very material aid to the monks and priests.

Aix therefore became the scene of some of the most interesting episodes in the life and career of Charlemagne.

At the death of his consort, Frastrade, Charlemagne was inconsolable. Even when she had been dead for three weeks, the monarch would not hear her death spoken of. "She did but sleep," he said; and the Emperor clung to the chamber of his beloved, and would not abate his watchfulness "till Frastrade woke."

Meantime the affairs of the Empire were falling into confusion. Provinces were all but revolting, and foreign foes were mustering their forces. The Emperor's chief counsellor was the Archbishop of Reims. One night – though this is more legendary than historical – the archbishop was walking by himself when he came upon a shape in the moonlight which proclaimed itself as follows: "I am the good genius of Charlemagne. I came to teach you how to remove the shadow from his spirit. Dig, where I stand, a grave and let the festering body of Frastrade lie in it. But, mark you! Ere you move her body, search beneath her tongue and take out what you find there."

The archbishop hurried toward a grotesquely carved cottage door where lived a gravedigger.

 
"No silken sleeper so calm as they
Who seek a couch in the churchyard clay,"
 

sang a voice from within.

In half an hour the grave was begun, and in another half-hour the churchman was in the chamber of Frastrade, where the Emperor, exhausted by his vigil, slept kneeling at the bedside.

The archbishop approached, and, peering into the mouth of the corpse, saw beneath the tongue a glittering jewel.

With hasty fingers he seized the token, and, as he removed it, a loud wail startled the silence of the death-chamber and aroused the king. The spell was broken.

Throwing but a single glance at the corpse of his wife, Charlemagne left the chamber, and, even as he went, agreed to the archbishop's arrangements for her burial.

The grave so secretly made ready was unnecessary, however, for the body was borne to Mayence, where a tomb raised to the memory of Frastrade is still to be seen.

At the archbishop's desire Charlemagne once more took his seat in the Council of State, and once more the Empire was put in order.

The courtiers resented the advent of the churchman into the favour of the Emperor, who at length, when the court was sitting at Aix-la-Chapelle, determined to rid himself of the mystic jewel. Choosing a dark night, he sought a deep pool near the centre of a morass as being suitable for concealing the gem, which he had determined no man should ever see. Coming upon the spot, and holding the bauble in his hand above the waters, he dropped it and saw it sink, as though the pit were bottomless. But the brilliancy of the gem was inextinguishable.

Next morning the court was pleased to note that the archbishop's influence over the Emperor was quite gone.

As the Emperor was strolling about the city, he fell upon the pool which held the gem. There he would sit by the hour, gazing upon the still waters, near which he afterward built himself a home, known to-day, though in ruins, as the castle of Frankenberg.

A few years after the death of his wife, Charlemagne built La Chapelle, that great octagonal church which gives the city its French name. The tomb of Charlemagne is there, inscribed only Carolo Magno. He died at Aix-la-Chapelle in 814, and was buried with great pomp. Victor Hugo gives Aix-la-Chapelle as the place of his birth, which is manifestly an error.

Charlemagne's body was placed in the tomb in a sitting posture, and three centuries later was exhumed by Frederick Barbarossa that he might sit in the same place, and afterward the German Emperors used the seat as a sort of throne of state at their coronations.

The sword and sceptre and all that was mortal of the great Charlemagne are gone, but his memory still lives in an enduring monument in the cathedral.

The cathedral is wonderful for its antiquary and charming to all who come within its spell; furthermore it forms a shrine for hero-worshippers which should not be neglected.

At one of the entrances is a bronze wolf, placed there to keep in memory a monkish legend which passes current at Aix-la-Chapelle to this day.

It runs as follows:

"In former times the zealous and devout inhabitants of Aix-la-Chapelle determined to build a cathedral. For six months the clang of the hammer and axe resounded with wonderful activity, but alas! the money which had been supplied by pious Christians for this holy work became exhausted, the wages of the masons were suspended, and with them their desire to hew and hammer, for, after all, men were not so very religious in those days as to build a temple on credit.

"Thus it stood, half-finished, resembling a falling ruin. Moss, grass, and wild parsley flourished in the cracks of the walls, screech-owls already discovered convenient places for their nests, and amorous sparrows hopped lovingly about where holy priests should have been teaching lessons of chastity.

"The builders were confounded; they endeavoured to borrow here and there, but no rich man could be induced to advance so large a sum. The collection from house to house fell short. When the magistracy received this report, they were out of humour, and looked with desponding countenances toward the cathedral walls, as fathers look upon the remains of favourite children.

"At this moment a stranger of commanding figure and something of pride in his voice and bearing entered and exclaimed: 'Bon Dieu! they say that you are out of spirits. Hem! if nothing but money is wanting, you may console yourselves, gentlemen. I possess mines of gold and silver, and both can and will most willingly supply you with a ton of it.'

"The astounded Senators sat like a row of pillars, measuring the stranger from head to foot. The burgomaster first found his tongue. 'Who are you, noble lord,' said he, 'that thus, entirely unknown, speak of tons of gold as though they were sacks of beans? Tell us your name, your rank in this world, and whether you are sent from the regions above to assist us.'

"'I have not the honour to reside there,' replied the stranger, 'and, between ourselves, I beg most particularly to be no longer troubled with questions concerning who and what I am. Suffice it to say I have gold plentiful as summer hay!' Then, drawing forth a leathern pouch, he proceeded: 'This little purse contains the tenth of what I'll give. The rest shall soon be forthcoming. Now listen, my masters,' continued he, clinking the coin, 'all this trumpery is and shall remain yours if you promise to give me the first little soul that enters the door of the new temple when it is consecrated.'

"The astonished Senators now sprang from their seats as if they had been shot up by an earthquake, and then rushed pell-mell, and fell all of a lump into the farthest corner of the room, where they rolled and clung to each other like lambs frightened at flashes of lightning. Only one of the party, who had not entirely lost his wits, collected his remaining senses, and, drawing his head out of the heap, uttered boldly, 'Avaunt, thou wicked spirit!'

"But the stranger, who was no less a person than Master Urian, laughed at them. 'What's all this outcry about?' said he at length; 'is my offence so heinous that you are all become like children? It is I that may suffer from this business, not you. With my hundreds and thousands I have not far to run to buy a score of souls. From you I ask but one in exchange for all my money. What are you picking at straws for? One may plainly see you are a mere set of humbugs! For the good of the commonwealth (which high-sounding name is often borrowed for all sorts of purposes), many a prince would instantly conduct a whole army to be butchered, and you refuse one single man for that purpose! Fie! I am ashamed, O overwise counsellors, to hear you reason thus absurdly and citizen-like. What! do you think to deprive yourselves of the kernel of your people by granting my wish? Oh, no, there your wisdom is quite at fault, for, depend on it, hypocrites are always the earliest church-birds.'

"By degrees, as the cunning fiend thus spoke, the Senators took courage and whispered in each other's ear: 'What is the use of our resisting? The grim lion will only show his teeth once; if we don't assent, we shall infallibly be packed off ourselves. It is better, therefore, to quiet him directly.'

"Scarcely was this sanguinary contract concluded when a swarm of purses flew into the room through the doors and windows, and Urian, more civil than before, took leave without leaving any smell behind. He stopped, however, at the door, and called out with a grim leer: 'Count it over again, for fear that I may have cheated you.'

"The hellish gold was piously expended in finishing the cathedral, but, nevertheless, when the building shone forth in all its splendour, the whole town was filled with fear and alarm at the sight of it. The fact was that, although the Senators had promised by bond and oath not to trust the secret to anybody, one of them had prated to his wife, and she had made it a market-place tale, so that all declared they would never set foot within the temple. The terrified council now consulted the clergy, but the good priests all hung down their heads. At last a monk cried out: 'A thought strikes me. The wolf which has so long ravaged the neighbourhood of our town was this morning caught alive. This will be a well-merited punishment for the destroyer of our flocks; let him be cast to the devil in the fiery gulf. 'Tis possible the arch hell-hound may not relish this breakfast, yet nolens volens he must swallow it. You promised him certainly a soul, but whose was not decidedly specified.'

"The monk's plan was plausible, and the Senate determined to put the cunning trick into execution. At length the day of consecration arrived, and orders were given to bring the wolf to the principal entrance of the cathedral. So, just as the bells began to ring, the trap-door of the cage was pulled open, and the savage beast darted out into the nave of the empty church. Master Urian, from his lurking-place, beheld this consecration offering with the utmost fury. Burning with choler at being thus deceived, he raged like a tempest and then rushed forth, slamming the brass gate so violently after him that the rings split in two.

"This crack, which serves to commemorate the priest's victory over the tricks of the devil, is still exhibited to the gaping travellers who visit the cathedral."

So much for the legend. But the devil, disappointed at the turn of affairs in respect to the cathedral, had his revenge when Aix, fifty years or more ago, first became the centre of public gaming-tables, which only lately have been deserted by what is known as smart society for other resorts of a similar nature elsewhere.