The Cathedrals and Churches of the Rhine

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.

There can be no question but that Charlemagne's church at Aix, while it is itself a rather vivid memory of Ravenna, is the prototype of much church-building elsewhere. The round churches of Germany followed in due course, while, in respect to some details, the cathedral has been claimed to be the forerunner of the true Gothic. At any rate, there is a reflection of its dome in that which terminates the centre of the cross of St. Fédêle at Como. The similarity goes to prove that Charlemagne's industry in church-building in Italy was as great as his desire of conquest.

The church at Aix-la-Chapelle was frankly designed as the tomb of Charlemagne, and that perhaps accounts for the combining of the rotunda of a ceremonial edifice with that of a basilica intended solely for worship. Part of it was undoubtedly the work of the Comacine builders whom Charlemagne brought from Italy, and part is nothing more than an importation or adaptation of classical and Byzantine adornments.

Charlemagne's architects studied geography and climate well when they erected this link between the Romanesque-Lombardic style of the south and the Gothic of the north.

That portion of the present cathedral at Aix-la-Chapelle which was built by Charlemagne is the octagonal projection toward the east. It forms a truly regal mausoleum, and for twelve hundred years has well stood the march of time.

It is supposed to have been the most magnificent church edifice of Charlemagne's era throughout all Europe, though it was seriously injured by an earthquake a few years after its completion.

Later it was plundered by the Normans, and it suffered disastrous fires in 1146, 1234, 1236, and 1656, having in consequence undergone many material changes.

Its external features have been considerably added to, but the prototype of the round and octagonal churches, subsequently erected in Germany, is here visible to-day in all its comparative novelty.

The granite and porphyry columns which support the arches giving upon the interior of the octagon were once taken and carried to Paris, but fortunately they were returned and again put into position.

The choir of the church, as it now is, was not begun until 1353, and was finished in the century following. It is pure Gothic of the most approved variety, whereas the octagon church is as pure Romanesque; and the two components do not blend or mingle in the least.

In the roof of the octagon is a remarkable specimen of modern wall and roof decoration, which might better have been omitted.

There is a cloister leading from the northwest chapel which has recently been restored. It is a delightful retreat, and has the "stations of the cross" displayed upon its inner wall.

There are numerous rare and valuable relics in the cathedral; the chief of which is the flagstone, which, bearing the simple words, Carolo Magno, is supposed to cover the actual burial-place of Charlemagne. Above this is a magnificent chandelier, reminiscent of another in the church at Hildesheim, the gift of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa.

Eight chapels surround the octagon, and in the Chapel of the Holy Cross is a magnificent altar-piece consisting of a crucifix carved in wood.

Most of the kings and queens who were crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle presented articles of value to the sacristy. The most magnificent of these is a sarcophagus in Parian marble representing the Rape of Proserpine.

The marble chair on which Charlemagne was found sitting in his tomb, and upon which the German emperors were crowned, is yet to be seen.

The relics in the cathedral are divided into two classes. In the first class are those which are the most sacred; in the second class are those of lesser importance. The latter are visible at all times; the former only once in seven years, when they are exposed for a fortnight.

The choir-stalls are set against the walls in a curious fashion, and there are chairs instead of the usual German benches for the congregation.

The appearance of this celebrated cathedral from the outside is most curious, since the erections and additions of later centuries have not been symmetrical.

There is a tall, modern spire which is not a beautiful addition, and the magnificent octagon has had a slate roof added, which likewise is a detraction.

St. Adelbert's was another ancient church of Aix-la-Chapelle, but it has given way to a modern edifice bearing the same name, though it is in good taste and most pleasing in its interior arrangement.

The Minoriten Kirche is a monkish foundation of the fourteenth or fifteenth century. Its nave and aisles all come under one canopy vault, and its aisleless choir is squared off abruptly with an enormous carved and painted altar-piece of no great excellence.

It is pleasant to recall here that the council of Aix-la-Chapelle made laws, which Charlemagne himself encouraged, referring to the treatment of pilgrims by the hospices which were so generally established throughout Charlemagne's realm in Carlovingian times.

To the ordinary fine for murder there was added sixty soldi more if the person killed were a pilgrim to or from a hospice. Any who denied food and shelter to a pilgrim was fined three soldi. These were the regulations put into effect through Charlemagne's dominions at the suggestion of Pepin II.

XXVIII

LIÈGE

The natural highway from Antwerp and Brussels to the Rhine lies through Liège and Aix-la-Chapelle, or Aachen, as the Germans call the latter.

Wordsworth, in his wonderful travel poem, wrote of the Meuse, which flows by Liège on its way to the Royal Ardennes, in a way which should induce many sated travellers to follow in his footsteps, and know something of the fascinating charm of this most fertile and perhaps the most picturesque of all the rivers of Europe.

"What lovelier home could gentle fancy choose?In this the stream, whose cities, heights and plains,War's favourite playground, are with crimson stainsFamiliar, as the morn with pearly dews.* * * * * * * * * *"How sweet the prospect of yon watery glade,With its gray locks clustering in pensive shade,That, shap'd like old monastic turrets, rise,From the smooth meadow ground serene and still."

As one journeys on to Liège, Roman influences have left many and visible remains.

Crossing the plain of Neervinden, one enters the province of the Liègeois, where the French were defeated by the Austrians in 1793, thus releasing Belgium from the Gallic yoke.

At Landen one recalls that it is the town of the inception of the family of Charlemagne which gave to France her second race of kings.

Liège has been called the Birmingham of Continental Europe. It might better be called one of the foremost industrial centres of the world, for such it is to-day.

It is beautifully placed in an amphitheatre-like valley, and its tall chimneys, its smoke, and its grind of wheels bespeak an activity and unrest of which the former ages knew not.

Formerly the Liègeois were a turbulent and truculent folk, if one is to believe history.

If, however, one does not care to go back to history, he might turn to the pages of "Quentin Durward" and read of the spirit of romance which once surrounded Liège and its people.

The famous "Legend of the Liègeois" recounts how a working blacksmith found an inexhaustible supply of coals for his forge through the aid of a gnomish old man.

Previously the smith's fires had burned low, and only the old man's song inspired him to forage on the hillside, with the result that the future prosperity of the city grew up from the accessibility of this inexhaustible coal supply.

The old man's story ran thus:

"Wine's good in wintry weather.Up the hillside near the heather,Go and gather the black earth,It shall give your fire birth.Ill fares the hide when the buckler wants mending,Ill fares the plough when the coulter wants tending."

When Liège, through its prosperity, had grown to good proportions, its government was assigned to a sort of prelate-proprietor.

These princely prelates were often but lads of eighteen or twenty, who became identified with the Church, frequently enough, simply because of the power it gave them.

The craftsmen and artisans of the city bought many rights from time to time from the bishops, and finally wrested the power from out of the hands of the Church, much as did the burghers of other cities from their feudal lords.

Then followed the struggle, which in Flanders raged perhaps more bitterly than elsewhere in Europe; the rising, where the many fought against the privileged few, and much riot and bloodshed was caused on all sides.

Then came first the burgher heroes of Liège, who, like their confrères in Ghent and Bruges, found in many instances the martyrdom of the patriot.

In the Place St. Lambert formerly stood – until 1801, when it was removed after having been damaged by a mob – the former cathedral of St. Lambert, which took its name from the first bishop of Liège. This ancient cathedral was of much grandeur and magnificence, attributes which the present cathedral of St. Paul decidedly lacks.

It was in this venerable cathedral of St. Lambert that Quentin Durward went to hear mass, as we learn from Scott's novel, and here also, after the famous siege of Liège by Louis XI. and Charles the Bold, the two princes themselves repaired for the same purpose. St. Lambert of Liège and the three Kings of Cologne were, it would appear, the chief patrons to whom Quentin and his early followers made their vows.

The bishopric was founded by Héraclius in 968, and a church, of which the present choir is a part, was built upon the site of the present St. Paul's in the thirteenth century. The see was formerly a suffragan of Cologne, and the only bishopric in the Low Countries except Tournai and Utrecht.

The present cathedral is consistently enough a Gothic church, but it is not a satisfactory example, in spite of its magnificent proportions.

Of a cruciform plan, and with a nave which was only completed in 1528, it is a poor apology for a great Gothic church, such as we know at Metz, Nancy, or even at Brussels.

Its western tower, satisfactory enough in itself, is crowned with a ludicrous spire, which dates only from 1812.

Since St. Lambert's has disappeared, and the present St. Paul's dates only from the ante-Revolutionary days, the chief ecclesiastical treasure of the city is the Église St. Jacques. It was founded in 1014 by the Bishop Baudry II., but the Romanesque tower to the west is of the century following, and the whole fabric was very much modified in 1513-38.

It is a magnificent flamboyant Gothic church of quite the first rank, when compared with others of its kind elsewhere.

It has an ample nave and aisles with a polygonal choir and a series of radiating chapels which are singularly beautiful.

The magnificent north portal is an addition of the sixteenth century.

The interior has been called Spanish in its motive. Certainly it is not quite like any other Gothic forms we know in these parts, and does bear some resemblance to that peculiar variety of Gothic which belongs to Spain.

The choir has some fine glass showing the armorial bearings of former patrons of the church.

There is a beautiful carved stone staircase and much sculptured stonework in the choir.

The organ-buffet is ornate, even of its kind, – a masterpiece of cabinet-making, – and was the work of Andre Severin of Maestricht in 1673.

The left transept, which is some thirty feet longer than the right, has a fine painting of a "Mater Dolorosa," while, opposite, is a stone monument to the founder of the church, Baudry II., of Renaissance workmanship.

St. Jean is another pre-tenth-century foundation of the Bishop Notger, somewhat after the plan of the "round church" at Aix-la-Chapelle. It was entirely rebuilt, however, in the eighteenth century, though the original octagon was kept intact.

At some distance from the city, on a height which may be truly called dominating, is the church of St. Martin, founded in 962, and reconstructed, after the Gothic manner of the time, contemporary with St. Jacques. Of recent times it has been restored. If any separation or division of its parts can be made, one concludes that the choir is German, and its nave French.

In 1246 there was held in this church a Fête Dieu following upon a vision of Ste. Julienne, the abbess of Cornillon near Liège. The fête was ordained by Pope Urbain IV., who himself had been a canon of the cathedral of Liège.

Ste. Croix was another of Notger's foundations, in 979, on the site of an ancient château.

The choir was built toward 1175, and has an octagonal tower with a gallery of small columns just under the roof, after the manner known as distinctly Rhenish.

The church exhibits thoroughly that Rhine manner of building which made combined use of the Gothic and Romanesque, – in bewildering fashion, to one who has previously known only the comparatively pure types of France.

The nave and its aisles rise to the same height, but the apsidal choir is aisleless.

The general effect of the interior is light and graceful, with circular columns in a blue-gray stone, which is very beautiful.

A series of fourteenth or fifteenth century "Stations of the Cross" fill the arches of the transepts; quite an unusual arrangement of this feature, and one which seems well considered.

St. Barthélemy's is Liège's other great church. It is a basilica of five naves and two Romanesque towers. It dates in reality from the twelfth century, but has been greatly modernized.

St. Barthélemy's might have been a highly interesting example of a Romanesque church had it not been desecrated by late Italian details.

St. Barthélemy's has a twelfth-century art treasure in a brazen font, cast in 1112 by Patras, a brass-founder of Dinant on the Meuse. Its bowl depicts five baptismal scenes in high relief, each accompanied by a descriptive legend. Upon the rim of the bowl is the following legend:

"Bissenis bobus pastorum forma notatur,Quos et apostolice commendat gratia vite,Officiiq; gradus quo fluminis impetus bujusLetificat sanctam purgatis civibus urbem."

XXIX

DÜSSELDORF, NEUSS, AND MÜNCHEN-GLADBACH

Düsseldorf

Among æsthetic people in general, Düsseldorf is revered – or was revered, though the time has long since passed – for that style of pictorial art known to the world as the Düsseldorf School.

A remarkably good collection of pictures remains in its art gallery to remind us of the fame of Düsseldorf as an art centre, but to-day its art has become "old-fashioned," and the gay little metropolis has many, if more worldly, counter attractions.

Düsseldorf takes its name from the little river Düssel which joins the Rhine at this point.

The French guide-books call Düsseldorf the "plus coquettes des bords du Rhin"; and so it really is, for few tourists go there for its churches alone, though they are by no means squalid or inferior.

The city was the residence of the Counts, afterward the Dukes, of Berg – for it was made a duchy by the Emperor Wenceslaus – from the end of the thirteenth century to the beginning of the nineteenth.

In 1806 Napoleon made it the capital of a new Grand Duchy of Berg in favour of Joachim Murat. By the treaty of 1815 Düsseldorf fell to Prussia, and became the chief town of the regency of Düsseldorf, and the seat of a superior court of justice.

Occupying the site that it does, on the banks of a great waterway, the city naturally became the centre of an important commerce.

Düsseldorf is the birthplace of many who have borne great names; of the philosopher Jacobi and his poet brother; the Baron de Hompesch, the last grand master of the Order of Malta; Von Ense, the eminent litterateur; the poet Heinrich Heine (who died at Paris in 1855), and the painters Cornelius, Lenzen, and Achenbach.

The principal church edifice is that dedicated to St. Lambert, the Hofkirche. It has a strong and hardy tower, very tall, and surmounted by a slate-covered spire. The ogival style predominates, and the fabric dates mostly from the fourteenth century. Its chief feature is its choir, which is far more ample and beautiful than the nave. The rest of the edifice fails to express any very high ideals of church-building.

At the foot of the apside, behind the choir, is a mausoleum erected in the seventeenth century for the elector, John Wilhelm, who died in 1690.

In the ambulatory of the choir is, on the left, a florid Gothic tabernacle, and by the second pillar of the nave is a colossal statue of St. Christopher. There are many tombs of Jacobeans, and of the Dukes of Berg.

There are also a number of paintings by Düsseldorf artists scattered about the church, but they have not the qualities exhibited by the old Flemish masters, and are hardly worthy of remark.