It is difficult accurately to state why a sense of disappointment is so often felt on entering the Cathedral of Paris. The unsatisfactory impression given by Notre Dame is one experienced by visitors of all kinds. The architectural critic, who looks upon a Gothic church as the result of certain clearly defined principles of construction and decoration, must inevitably find in it much to admire. But while it satisfies the specialist, and possibly impresses those who have little pretence to technical information, it lacks the qualities of mystery and of surprise which distinguish some buildings less ancient and less stately. Thus we find one writer complaining that it is heavy, another that it is cold, and a third that it is relatively unpicturesque. Most of those who have recorded their dissatisfaction with the interior of Notre Dame have sought to explain the causes thereof. The splendid promise of the exterior, it is suggested, discounts the remarkable beauties of the inside. Some feel that the regularity, the coherence which distinguish the church, produce an ensemble at once ponderous and monotonous. Others complain of the lack of colour; while on the other hand not a few protest against the intrusion of recent polychromatic decorations. It is possible that the secret lies in certain structural idiosyncrasies. The church is extremely broad in comparison with its length. The bays are so few as to give to the interior an air of undue severity. Fergusson, in his history of architecture, condemns the vaulting ribs as ineffective. The marble pavement is regarded on all hands as a misfortune: nothing could be more tedious or inappropriate. It is, however, to be observed that as one becomes familiar with the interior its shortcomings are forgotten and the dignity of its proportions and details are apprehended more fairly. Dimensions.—The length of Notre Dame is 390 ft.; the width at the transepts, 144 ft.; the length of the nave, 225 ft.; and the width of the nave (without the aisles), 39 ft. The height of the vaulting is 102 ft. De Breul, in his ThÉÂtre des AntiquitÉs de Paris, mentions a copper tablet which formerly hung against one of the pillars of Notre Dame and gave the dimensions of the cathedral in the following verses:—

The curiosity of these lines excuses the inaccurate statements, comparatively trifling, conveyed in them. Notre Dame, unlike most mediÆval churches on the Continent, is almost painfully clean. The gaudy shrines which render some of the most splendid of Italian churches almost grotesque are absent from Notre Dame. The broom and the duster have been too freely used: all that is not appropriate has been too sedulously banished.

In the old floor, amongst a multitude of other interesting memorials of the dead, the tombstones of the following were to be found: Philippe (son of Louis VI. and Archdeacon of Paris), d. 1161; Prince Geoffrey of England, d. 1186; Queen Isabelle of Hainault, d. 1189; the dauphin, Louis (son of Charles VI.), d. 1415; Louise (mother of FranÇois I.), d. 1531; and Louis XIII. (his viscera only), 1643. Amongst the more famous ecclesiastics were the following: Eudes de Sully (1208); Etienne II. (1279); Cardinal Aymeric de Magnac (1348); Bishop Pierre d’Orgemont (1409); and Dumoulin, Patriarch of Antioch (1447). In addition there were three Archbishops of Paris who died during the seventeenth century, and Renaud, Archbishop of Sens (d. 1616). The substitution of squares of marble for the tombstones of these historic personages admits of absolutely no defence. Let us now consider the Roof. Mr. Charles Herbert Moore thus describes it in his Development and Character of Gothic Architecture:—

“Here is a vast nave (completed except the extreme west end by about the year 1196), so admirably roofed with stone that the work has lasted intact for seven hundred years, and will probably, if not wantonly injured, last for centuries to come. These vaults are sexpartite.... The diagonal ribs are round-arched, while the transverse and longitudinal ribs are pointed. The intermediate transverse ribs are, however, pointed but slightly; and to bring their crowns up to the level of the intersections of the diagonals they are considerably stilted. The crowns of the main transverse ribs are a little lower than those of the diagonals, and those of the longitudinals are lower still. The vaults have, therefore, a distinctly domical form. These various adjustments, by greater or less pointing, stilting, and even by the retention of the round arch where it will serve best, exhibit the flexibility of the Gothic system in an interesting and instructive manner.” Mr. Moore, after some further details, continues:—“In the vaults of Paris, as in all Gothic vaults, the shells consist of successive courses of masonry which are slightly arched from rib to rib over each triangular cell. The beds of these successive courses are not parallel, but are variously inclined according as the mason found necessary or convenient in developing the concave and winding surfaces engendered by the forms and positions of the ribs to which they had to be accommodated. These courses of masonry have here in Paris, as they have in most Gothic vaults, a considerable inclination near the springing from the longitudinal rib upward toward the diagonal, and they become gradually more level as they approach the crown of the vault, where they are more nearly parallel. But perfectly parallel they can hardly ever be, since each course forms a portion of a surface that is concaved in all directions.” Mr. Moore adds that in the earliest and finest Gothic vaultings this masonry is composed of small stones perfectly faced and closely jointed; and the vaulting of Paris, especially that of the choir, is a model of careful and finished workmanship.

The vaulting of the choir differs from that of the nave, but the difference is one rather of detail than of principle. We have already said much about the external buttress system by which this splendid roof is sustained. Internally this vaulting rises from slender shafts springing from the capitals of the great cylindrical columns constituting the main arcade of the ground story. The piers at Paris are ill adjusted to the vaults, a feature which has resulted in an immense amount of learned discussion. They were obviously intended for quadripartite vaulting. It seems probable that suddenly, for a reason which we are not now in a position to appreciate, the quadripartite form was abandoned in favour of the sexpartite form actually adopted. Students of this subject are advised to refer to pp. 114–15 of the second edition of Mr. Moore’s book, where the differences between the vaulting imposts of the nave and choir are discussed and delineated. They may profitably compare this with M. Viollet-le-Duc’s Construction (p. 164). M. Viollet-le-Duc, it may be added, suggests that the necessities of the sexpartite system were provided for by the monolithic shafts grouped round every other pier in the arcade dividing the aisles.

The somewhat heavy character of the great cylindrical piers which divide the nave from the aisles is largely redeemed by the beautiful carving with which the capitals are ornamented. The plants which the sculptors have conventionalised are those commonly found in the fields adjacent to Paris. These ornate capitals are genuinely Gothic in feeling, and have nothing in common with those which crown the piers of our Anglo-Norman (Romanesque) cathedrals. Again, the plinths of the columns are utterly unlike the simple and massive bases on which the round columns of our older churches most often rest. We have already alluded to the ill-adaptation of these piers and their capitals to the sexpartite form of vaulting employed. In the case of the most westerly piers of the main arcade an attempt seems to have been made—with no great success, as it appears to me—to minimise the illogical effect of the vaulting imposts. The result has been the emphasis of that very want of congruity which it was sought to remedy. It would be difficult to find a less satisfactory arrangement than that which obtains in the pier and capital delineated in our illustration, where four smaller cylinders are attached to the main one. Here, not merely is the pier itself rendered unwieldy by its satellites, but the capital loses all symmetry owing to the interposition of the small capitals which crown those satellites. It will be noticed that the arches of the main arcade are by no means uniform. Thus we have a wide arch adjacent to an extremely narrow one, while the builders of the period did not hesitate to make use of a round arch where they found that form more convenient. It is in some measure these peculiarities which have induced not a few authors to describe Notre Dame as a transitional church.

In no part of Notre Dame do we more perfectly appreciate the grandeur of the scale of the church than when we stand in the vast double aisles on either side of the nave. With every step we take the view changes. We hesitate to leave the spot upon which we stand lest we should lose its charm, and yet we feel that probably a vista even more beautiful awaits us a few paces beyond. The lines of vast piers seem as if they were consciously engaged in surprising us: now they come together and close the view suddenly, unexpectedly; then they open, revealing a richly furnished altar in, as it were, a colossal frame of masonry. Everywhere the lines of the building strike us as vast, massive, almost elemental, but everywhere there is an ordered, if a somewhat ponderous symmetry. It is strange that there ever was an age in which the innate dignity and majesty of these lines were not felt. Yet so barbarous did the architecture of Notre Dame appear to eighteenth-century eyes, that a desperate attempt was made to hide it. Vast pictures in gilt frames were placed from capital to capital of the main arcade on both sides. In this way the arches were completely hidden, and a square appearance (supposed to suggest the classical) was given to the lowest story. The openings of the triforium were spared, as anything placed in front of them would block the view of the crowds who used to fill the tribunes on state occasions. The nave, however, thus turned into a kind of picture gallery, was considered very satisfactory (see illustration, p. 11). Needless to say, no trace of the pictures now remains, and the great arches are free and open once more. The piers dividing the aisles are not all of the same construction. Round every other pier are grouped monolithic shafts, possessing delicately foliated capitals with moulded abaci. Two shafts, with a single abacus and plinth, alternate with a single shaft. In all there are twelve shafts round the pier. These piers, with their cluster of satellites, contrast finely with the simple cylinders with bold foliated capitals with which they alternate, and lend variety and interest to the arcades (see illustration, p. 23).

The vaulting of the aisles is quadripartite, the ribs being strongly marked and possessing carved bosses at the point of intersection. Beyond the outer aisles on each side is a series of chapels, which will be described presently. The accompanying illustrations give a good idea of the piers, capitals and vaulting of this part of the church.

The Triforium, to which there are four staircases, is of immense size, owing to the fact that it passes over the double aisles on both sides of the nave. Its designers no doubt contemplated its use as a gallery from which the grand ceremonies which took place in the church could be witnessed by large numbers of people. It is ceiled with stone—a feature common to most of the greater cathedrals of France—so that no wooden beams can be seen anywhere in the building. This obviously increases the massiveness of the whole, though a certain tendency to heaviness is perhaps emphasised. The masonry is everywhere very fine, and in the small details a high degree of wise as opposed to futile finish is maintained throughout. The galleries are excellently lighted. Above the nave-aisles low pointed arches enclose a foliated circle, the corners at the base being filled with small trefoils. In the choir the lights consist of rose or wheel windows, in the tracery of which there is great variety of pattern. The openings towards the church take their place admirably in the elevation, being in character with the main arcade beneath and the clerestory above. They are almost austerely simple, and possess none of the ornateness which characterises the triforiums of Westminster, Lincoln, and other English buildings of slightly later date. A large plain pointed arch encloses two and in some cases three pointed arches, which are separated from one another by delicate columns bearing foliated capitals with square abaci. They have small square bases. These columns are a hundred and four in number. A low openwork railing of iron fills in the front of the gallery. The triforium goes round the whole building: that portion which is at the end of the transepts, however, consists of a narrow passage which is not open to the church. The banners which were captured by French armies were exhibited from the triforium so long as war continued. On the conclusion of peace, they were taken down—a proceeding which might be followed in other countries with advantage. The part of the triforium in the choir differs only in detail from that in the nave. Over the triforium come the vast windows, altered in the thirteenth century, which comprise the Clerestory, of which more is said on page 72. The stained glass will be fully discussed hereafter.

The upper portion of the west end is filled by the great rose window, which, as we have noticed, is so beautiful a feature of the faÇade. The tops of the pipes of the great organ hide the lower part of it from our view inside. The lovely painted glass, which is ancient, has representations of the Virgin and Child surrounded by prophets. Amongst other features are the signs of the Zodiac, the labours of the months, and the Virtues in triumph with lances in their hands. The gallery on which the organ is now placed was possibly used for the performance of miracle plays. As it is at a relatively great height from the pavement, this is at least doubtful. The Organ is a fine instrument of wonderful power. It was practically rebuilt by Thierry Lesclope in 1730, and enlarged by Cliquot in 1785. In recent years it has been immensely improved by M. CavaillÉ-Coll, who gave it 5266 pipes and 80 stops. It plays a great part in the splendid musical services for which the Cathedral is famous.

The Nave is almost devoid of monuments; nothing breaks up the vast lines of the architecture. The most important tomb is that of Jean Etienne Yver, Canon of Paris and Rouen, who died in February 1467. It has escaped serious mutilation, and is a realistic performance in the style prevailing in France at the end of the fifteenth century. On the base is a gruesome representation of the body of the Canon being given over to the worms. Above this, two saints are helping him to rise from the coffin, and directing his attention towards Heaven. The whole thing is repulsive, but it is interesting as a curiosity. Many historic memorials perished during the Revolution, but some were removed to Versailles and still exist there. They include the tombs of Jean Jouvenel des Ursins (d. 1431) and his wife Michelle de Vitry; the MarÉchal Albert de Gondi, Duc de Retz (d. 1602); and his brother Pierre de Gondi, Bishop of Paris (d. 1616). Two monuments have disappeared from the nave which were highly esteemed in their day. Writing of Notre Dame in his Crudities in 1611, Thomas Coryat says: “I could see no notable matter in the cathedral church, saving the statue of Saint Christopher on the right hand at the coming in of the great gate, which is indeed very exquisitely done, all the rest being but ordinary.” The statue so delighted the old traveller that he had eyes for nothing else, for the architecture of Notre Dame is anything but ordinary. The Chapter of the Cathedral did not share his view, for they deliberately destroyed it in 1786. It was presented to the church in 1413 by Antoine des Essarts, whose tomb with his effigy in armour stood near it. Its destruction is remarkable, for colossal things were very much to the taste of those who lived at the end of the seventeenth century. The Revolution is responsible for the destruction of a famous equestrian statue which stood in the nave until 1792. It is generally considered to have been that of Philippe le Bel, clothed in the armour in which he won his victory over the Flemings at Mons-en-Pucelle in 1304. The identity of the statue has, however, been the subject of controversy. Viollet-le-Duc tells us that it represented, not Philippe le Bel, but Philippe VI. (of Valois), who defeated the Flemings at Cassel in 1328. On his return to Paris he rode into the cathedral on horseback in state, and vowed his harness to the Virgin. The Chapter disagree with Viollet-le-Duc, who is, however, supported in his contention by the Benedictine PÈre Montfaucon, by the writers who continued the chronicle of William of Nangis, and some others. The monument stood close to the last pillar on the right side of the nave. The Pulpit is a modern work, after the design of Viollet-le-Duc. It is of oak, and its decorations include statues of six of the apostles and of angelic figures. Suspended from the vaulting are eight imposing candelabra in bronze-gilt.

The Chapels of the Nave contain singularly few features of historic interest, nor amongst the furniture of their altars are there many recent works of art of outstanding merit. They introduce us, however, to the vast scheme of mural painting which has been carried out from the designs and partly under the direction of Viollet-le-Duc. There can be no doubt that some scheme of polychromatic decoration was legitimate: almost every ancient church in France has indisputable evidence of its employment in the middle ages. The problem which faced Viollet-le-Duc was one of extreme difficulty. The area to be covered was enormous: the variations of light were excessive. Some parts were luminous, even radiant; others were hidden in almost continuous gloom. The schemes of colour had to be adapted to these varying conditions. The use of mosaic was considered and discarded. The expense would have been gigantic, and the material was considered, perhaps rightly, to be inappropriate to the style of architecture. Wall pictures, as such, were regarded as destructive to the ensemble, fatiguing to the eyes and mind, and productive of a certain patchy effect. A series of symbolical patterns of a rigidly conventional type, in which human figures are very sparingly used, was devised. It may be admitted at once that the learning and ingenuity displayed in the design of the scheme were such as might be expected from the most erudite and accomplished French architectural scholar of our time. The minute consideration which Viollet-le-Duc devoted to the subject may be judged from the following passage: “D’abord, la cathÉdrale de Paris, comme on sait, est orientÉe de telle faÇon que tout un cÔtÉ du monument se prÉsente vers le midi et l’autre vers le nord. Un de ces cÔtÉs reÇoit donc une lumiÈre plus vive et plus colorÉe que l’autre. Il a paru qu’il Était nÉcessaire de profiter de cette disposition pour Établir l’harmonie gÉnÉrale. Au lieu de combattre l’effet de cette orientation, on a cru devoir l’appuyer. Ainsi, en premier lieu, toutes les fenÊtres des chapelles tournÉes vers le sud sont garnies de grisailles À tons nacrÉs et froids. De lÀ il resulte qu’en entrant dans le monument on voit un cÔtÉ de lumiÈre, un cÔtÉ d’ombre, un cÔtÉ chaud et brillant et un cÔtÉ froid. Il en rÉsulte instinctivement pour l’oeil un effet gÉnÉral tranquille. Rien n’est plus fatigant pour les yeux qu’un intÉrieur ÉclairÉ par les jours contraires de qualitÉs semblables comme intensitÉ de lumiÈre, valeur de tons et coloration. La peinture des chapelles devait concorder naturellement avec le systÈme de rÉpartition de la lumiÈre. Suivant une rÈgle gÉnÉrale, la tonalitÉ des peintures du cÔtÉ nord est plus froide que celle du cÔtÉ du midi. Cependant, comme il faut conserver l’unitÉ, de distance en distance, du cÔtÉ sud, des tons gris, des tons verts, froids, rappellent l’harmonie gÉnÉrale du cÔtÉ nord, et, du cÔtÉ septentrional, des tons chauds rappellent l’harmonie gÉnÉrale du cÔtÉ mÉridional.”[11]

In spite of all these elaborate precautions, in spite of so much patience and learning, the result as a whole seems to me unsatisfactory. One wearies of the ingenious geometrical curves, the crosses, the squares, the lozenges, the coloured stars, the excessively and laboriously conventionalised foliage, and the rest. The whole strikes one as dead and mechanical, as mere covering of stone for the sake of doing so. And the colour, though by no means aggressive, is unsatisfying. The experiment was heroic, and the result might certainly have been very much worse, but the stone-work would have been better untouched.

The Chapels on the north side of the nave (from west to east) are: 1. The Chapelle des Fonts Baptismaux. The bronze carving of the font is by Brachelet. 2. The Chapelle Saint-Charles. There are a statue in painted stone by M. de Chaume and a good piscina. The wall decorations are cold and sombre. 3. The Chapelle de la Sainte-Enfance. It contains a group representing Christ caressing a French and a Chinese child, by M. de Chaume. 4. The Chapelle Saint-Vincent-de-Paul. The decorations of this chapel are somewhat elaborate, and gilding is freely used. 5. The Chapelle de Saint-FranÇois-Xavier. There is a group representing the Saint baptising a Chinese. 6. Chapelle de Saint-Landry, with statue by De Chaume. 7. Chapelle de Sainte-Clotilde, with statue by the same artist.

The following are on the south side (west to east):

1. Chapelle des Ames du Purgatoire. Christ rescuing a soul from Purgatory. A statue by De Chaume in coloured stone. The colour scheme of the chapel is warm and brilliant. 2. Chapelle de Sainte-GeneviÈve. The decorations, which are somewhat profuse, were given by the “dames de l’Institut de l’oeuvre de Sainte GeneviÈve.” 3. Chapelle Saint-Joseph, with statue of Joseph with the Child Jesus in his arms. 4. Chapelle Saint-Pierre. Statue in wood of the saint by M. Corbon. The carved woodwork of the sixteenth century still remains, and includes panels with representations of the Twelve Apostles, St. Germain, and Sainte GeneviÈve. 5. Chapelle Saint-Anne. 6. Chapelle du SacrÉ-Coeur. Statue in coloured stone by M. de Chaume. 7. Chapelle de l’Annonciation. With a statue of the Virgin in wood by M. Corbon. Paintings by Perrodin, one of the best pupils of Flandrin, of David, St. Michel, Isaiah, St. Anne, St. Joseph, St. John, St. Luke, St. Augustine, St. Bernard, St. Dominic, and St. Bonaventure. Before we turn from the nave to the choir and transepts, let us say a few words as to the stained glass, which was once the glory of the church. There is probably no Gothic interior in France which has suffered more terribly from the destruction of its ancient windows than Notre Dame. The coldness and severity which the mural decorations of Viollet-le-Duc vainly strive to mitigate were perhaps not felt at all when the light from every window seemed to be transmitted in glowing and gleaming shafts of every conceivable colour and tone. Fortunately, the old glass still remains in the great rose windows. That over the west door has been described; the others will be noticed in the account of the transepts. The rest of the glass was deliberately destroyed, not by an infuriated mob, but by those in authority, in 1741.

The work of destruction was performed by Jean Leviel and his brother, who cheerfully substituted for the priceless material they removed great sheets of dull, monotonous grisaille, with borders ornamented with the fleur-de-lis. The introduction of grisaille has been quaintly described by Michelet as le protestantisme entrant dans la peinture. Its use at Notre Dame is nothing short of a disaster. Efforts have been made in some parts of the building to replace it with glass of a less sombre character, but these efforts so far have done little to lessen our regret for the calamity of 1741.