Works of Grant Allen

by Grant Allen

  The neighbourhood to Paris, the supremacy of the great saint, and the fact that St. Denis was especially the Royal Abbey, all combined to give it great importance. Under Suger’s influence, Louis VI adopted the oriflamme or standard of St. Denis as the royal banner of France. The Merovingian and Carlovingian kings, to be sure — Germans rather than French — had naturally been buried elsewhere, as at Aix-la-Chapelle, Rheims, and Soissons (though even of them a few were interred beside the great bishop martyr). But as soon as the Parisian dynasty of the Capets came to the throne, they were almost without exception buried at St. Denis. Hence the abbey came to be regarded at last mainly as the mausoleum of French royalty, and is still too often so regarded by tourists. But though the exquisite Renaissance tombs of the House of Valois would well deserve a visit on their own account, they are, at St. Denis, but accessories to the great Basilica. Besides the actual tombs, too, many monuments were erected here, in the 13th cent. (by St. Louis) and afterwards, to earlier kings buried elsewhere, some relic of whom, however, the abbey possessed and thus honoured. Hence several of the existing tombs are of far later date than the kings they commemorate; those of the Valois almost alone are truly contemporary.

  At the Revolution, the Basilica suffered irreparable losses. The very sacred reliquary containing the severed head of St. Denis was destroyed, and the remains of the martyr and his companions desecrated. The royal bones and bodies were also disinterred and flung into trenches indiscriminately. The tombs of the kings were condemned to destruction, and many (chiefly in metal) were destroyed or melted down, but not a few were saved with difficulty by the exertions of antiquaries, and were placed in the Museum of Monuments at Paris (now the École des Beaux-Arts), of which Alexandre Lenoir was curator. Here, they were greatly hacked about and mutilated, in order to fit them to their new situations. At the Restoration, however, they were sent back to St. Denis, together with many other monuments which had no real place there; but, being housed in the crypt, they were further clipped to suit their fresh surroundings. Finally, when the Basilica was restored under Viollet-le-Duc, the tombs were replaced as nearly as possible in their old positions; but several intruders from elsewhere are still interspersed among them. Louis XVIII brought back the mingled bones of his ancestors from the common trench and interred them in the crypt.

  Remember, then, these things about St. Denis: (1) It is (or was), first and above all things, the shrine of St. Denis and his fellow-martyrs. (2) It contains the remnant of the tombs of the French kings. (3) It is older in part than almost any other building we have yet examined.

  As regards the tombs, again, bear in mind these facts. All the oldest have perished; there are none here that go back much further than the age of St. Louis, though they often represent personages of earlier periods or dynasties. The best are those of the Renaissance period. These are greatly influenced by the magnificent tomb of Giangaleazzo Visconti at the Certosa di Pavia, near Milan. Especially is this the case with the noble monument of Louis XII, which closely imitates the Italian work. Now, you must remember that Charles VIII and Louis XII fought much in Italy, and were masters of Milan; hence this tomb was familiar to them; and their Italian experiences had much to do with the French Renaissance. The Cardinal d’Amboise, Louis’s minister, built the Château de Gaillon, and much of the artistic impulse of the time was due to these two. Henceforth recollect that though François Ier is the Prince of the Renaissance, Louis XII and his minister were no mean forerunners.

  The Basilica is open daily; the royal tombs are shown to parties every half-hour; but the attendants hurry visitors through with perfunctory haste, and no adequate time is given to examine the monuments. Therefore, do not go to St. Denis till after you have seen the Renaissance Sculpture at the Louvre, which will have familiarised you with the style, and will enable you better to grasp their chief points quickly. Also, go in the morning, on a bright day: in the late afternoon or on dark days you see hardly anything.]

  Start from the Gare du Nord. About four trains run every hour. There is also a tramway which starts from the Opéra, the Madeleine, or the Place du Châtelet, but the transit is long, and the weary road runs endlessly through squalid suburbs, so that the railway is far preferable. Start early. Take your opera-glasses.

  From the St. Denis station, take the road directly to the R as far as the modern Parish Church, when a straight street in front of you (a little to the L) leads directly to the Basilica. On the L of the Place in front of the great church is the Hôtel de Ville, on which it is interesting to notice, high up on the front, the ancient royal war-cry of “Montjoye St. Denis!”

  Turn to the Basilica. The façade, of the age of Abbot Suger, is very irregular. It consists of two lateral towers, and a central portion, answering to the Nave. Only the south tower is now complete; the other, once crowned by a spire, was struck by lightning in 1837. Observe the inferiority in unity of design to the fine façade of Notre-Dame, the stories of the towers not answering in level to those of the central portion. We have here the same general features of two western towers and three recessed portals; but Notre-Dame has improved upon them with Gothic feeling. The lower arches are round and Romanesque. The upper ones show in many cases an incipient Gothic tendency. The rose window has been converted into a clock. On either side of it, in medallions, are the symbols of the four Evangelists. Observe the fine pillars and Romanesque arcade of the one complete tower. Also, the reliefs of kings of Israel and Judah in the blind arcade which caps the third story in both towers. The coarse and ugly battlements which spoil the front are part of the defensive wall of the Abbey, erected during the English wars in the 14th century. Behind them, a little way off, you can see the high and pointed roof of the nave, crowned by the statue of the patron, St. Denis.

  Now, enter the enclosure and examine the three round-arched portals. The Central Doorway has for its subject the usual scene of the Last Judgment. The architecture of the framework is still in the main that of the 13th cent. The relief in the tympanum has been much restored, but still retains its Romanesque character. In the centre is Christ, enthroned, with angels. On His R hand, the blessed, with the Angel of the Last Trump as elsewhere. On His L, the condemned, with the Angel bearing the sword, and thrusting the wicked into Hell: all conventional features. The Latin inscriptions mean, “Come, ye blessed of My Father”; and “Depart from Me, ye wicked.” Beneath is the General Resurrection, souls rising (mostly naked) from the tomb. To R and L of the doorway, below, are the frequent subjects of the Wise and Foolish Virgins. Above, on the archway, figures of saints and patriarchs, amongst whom is conspicuous King David. Notice in the very centre or key of the archway, Christ receiving souls from angels. To His R, Abraham with three blessed souls in his bosom (as at St. Germain l’Auxerrois). To His L, devils seizing the condemned, whom they thrust into hell, while angels struggle for them. Higher still, on the arch, angels swinging a censer, and an angel displaying a medallion of the lamb. This door formed the model on which those of Notre-Dame, the Sainte Chapelle, St. Germain l’Auxerrois, and many others in Paris of later date, were originally based. The actual doors have naïve bronze reliefs of the Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension. Notice the quaint character of these reliefs, and of the delicate decorative design which surrounds them, — broken, in the case of the Supper at Emmaus, by the figure of a monk, probably Abbot Suger, grasping a pillar. The Resurrection, with its sleeping Roman soldiers, and the Kiss of Judas, with Peter sheathing his sword and Christ healing the ear of Malchus, are also very typical. Do not fail to notice, either, the beautiful decoration of the pilasters and their capitals. All this is delicate and characteristic Romanesque tracery.

  The other doors commemorate the History of St. Denis. On the South Door is a much-restored and practically modern relief of St. Denis in prison with Christ bringing him the last sacrament; it has been largely made up by the aid of the old French painting of the same subject in the Louvre. In front are figures symbolical of his martyrdom — the execution
er, etc. On the sides, reliefs of the Months. On the North Door, St. Denis condemned and on his way to Montmartre, with his two companions, Rusticus and Eleutherius, chained; they are accompanied in the sky by the Eternal Father and the heavenly host. On the archway, interesting reliefs of the three martyrs, with an angel supporting the châsse containing their relics. On the sides, the signs of the Zodiac.

  Walk round the North Side to observe the decorated flamboyant architecture of the chapels of the North Aisle (much later) with the flying buttresses above them. Also, the North Transept, with its rose window, and the peculiar radiating chapels around the apse, which form a characteristic feature of the Romanesque style. Observe these as well as you can from the extreme end of the railing. Return to Transept. The sculpture over the North Portal represents the Decapitation of St. Denis. On the centre pier, a Madonna and Child. R and L, Kings of Judah.

  The South Side is inaccessible. It is enclosed by buildings on the site of the old monastery (not ancient — age of Louis XIV), now used as a place of education for daughters of Chevaliers de la Légion d’Honneur.

  The interior is most beautiful. The first portion of the church which we enter is a vestibule or Galilee under the side towers and end of the Nave. Compare Durham. It is of the age of Abbot Suger, but already exhibits pointed arches in the upper part. The architecture is solid and massive, but somewhat gloomy.

  Descend a few steps into the Nave, which is surrounded by single aisles, whose vaulting should be noticed. The architecture of this part, now pure Early Gothic, is extremely lovely. The triforium is delicate and graceful. The windows in the clerestory above it, representing kings and queens, are almost all modern. Notice the great height of the Nave, and the unusual extent to which the triforium and clerestory project above the noble vaulting of the aisles. Note that the triforium itself opens directly to the air, and is supplied with stained-glass windows, seen through its arches. Sit awhile in this light and lofty Nave, in order to take in the beautiful view up the church towards the choir and chevet.

  Then walk up to the Barrier near the Transepts, where sit again, in order to observe the Choir and Transepts with the staircase which leads to the raised Ambulatory. Observe that the transepts are simple. The ugly stained glass in the windows of their clerestory contains illustrations of the reign of Louis Philippe, with extremely unpicturesque costumes of the period. The trousers are unspeakable. The architecture of the Nave and Choir, with its light and airy arches and pillars, is of the later 13th century.

  The reason for this is that Suger’s building was thoroughly restored from 1230 onwards, in the pure pointed style of that best period. The upper part of the Choir, and the whole of the Nave and Transepts was then rebuilt — which accounts for the gracefulness and airiness of its architecture when contrasted with the dark and heavy vestibule of the age of Suger.

  Note from this point the arrangement of the Choir, which, to those who do not know Italy, will be quite unfamiliar. As at San Zeno in Verona, San Miniato in Florence, and many other Romanesque churches, the Choir is raised by some steps above the Nave and Transepts; while the Crypt is slightly depressed beneath them. In the Crypt, in such cases, are the actual bodies of the saints buried there; while the Altar stands directly over their tombs in the Choir above it.

  Look every way from this point at the tombs within sight, at the Choir and Transepts, and at the steps of the Ambulatory. Do not be in a hurry to enter. On the contrary, sit awhile longer in the body of the Nave, outside the barrier, and read what follows.

  [The custodians hurry you so rapidly through the reserved part of the church that it will be well before entering the enclosure to glance through the succeeding notes, explanatory of what you are about to see. The remarks to be read as you go round the building I insert separately, in the briefest possible words, as aids to memory.

  The tomb of Louis XII (d. 1515) and his wife, Anne de Bretagne (d. 1514), is the earliest of the great Renaissance tombs in France, and the first in order in this Basilica. Long believed to be of Italian workmanship, it is now known to be the production of Jean Juste of Tours, unknown otherwise, but supposed to be a Florentine. It is imitated from the Giangaleazzo Visconti, already mentioned, in the Certosa di Pavia. This tomb, the first you see, struck the keynote for such works of the Renaissance in France. It is a good and apparently French imitation of the Italian original, and it fitly marks Louis XII’s place in the artistic movement. Remember his statue by Lorenzo da Mugiano in the Louvre, and his connection with Cardinal d’Amboise and the Château de Gaillon.

  The next important monument is that of Dagobert I (d. 638), the founder of the Abbey, probably erected in his honour, as a sort of shrine, by St. Louis in the 13th cent. In order to understand this tomb (which you are only allowed to see across the whole breadth of the choir), it is necessary to know the legend to which the mediæval sculptures on the canopy refer. When Dagobert died, demons tried to steal his soul; but he was rescued by St. Denis, to whom he had built this abbey, assisted by St. Maurice and St. Martin of Tours — a significant story, pointing the moral of how good a thing it is to found a monastery. The narrative is told in three stages, one above the other. (1) An anchorite, sleeping, is shown by St. Denis in a dream that the king’s soul is in danger; to the R, Dagobert stands in a little boat (like the boat of Charon); demons seize him and take off his crown. (2) The three saints come to the king’s rescue, attended by two angels, one swinging a censer, the other holding a vase of holy water; St. Martin and St. Denis see the tortured soul; the soldier St. Maurice, sword in hand, attacks the demons. (3) The three saints, attended by the angels, hold a sheet, on which the soul of Dagobert stands, praying. The Hand of God appears in a glory above, to lift him into heaven. These are on the canopy; beneath, on the tomb itself, lies a modern restored recumbent statue of Dagobert; there are also erect figures of his son Sigebert (restored), and his queen, Nantilde (original).

  The tomb of Henri II (d. 1559) and his queen, Catherine de Médicis (d. 1589) — the third of any importance — was executed by the great sculptor, Germain Pilon, during the lifetime of the latter. (It was he, too, you will remember, who made the exquisite group of figures, now in the Louvre, to support the urn which was to contain their hearts.) As in many contemporary tombs, the king and queen are represented alive and kneeling, in bronze, above, and nude and dead in marble on the tomb below. (We saw a similar tomb at the Louvre.) A second monument, close by, to the same king and queen, has recumbent marble figures on a bronze couch, — Catherine is said in her devouter old age to have disapproved of the nudity of the figures on the first tomb — but as it was usual to distribute relics of French kings to various abbeys, such duplicate monuments were once common.

  The tomb of Frédégonde (d. 597) from St. Germain-des-Prés, is a curious mosaic figure of marble and copper, almost unique in character. It is not of the Queen’s own age, but was added to her shrine in the 12th century. Most of these early kings and queens, founders and benefactors of monasteries, were either actually canonized or were treated as saints by the monks whom they had benefited: and tombs in their honour were repaired or reedified after the Norman invasion and other misfortunes.

  Two monuments of the children of St. Louis, from other abbeys, carried first to Lenoir’s Museum, are now in this Basilica. They are of enamelled copper, with repoussé figures, executed at Limoges.

  The most costly, though not to my mind the most beautiful, of the Renaissance tombs is that of François Ier (d. 1547). On the summit are kneeling figures of the King, his wife Claude, and their three children. The reliefs on the pedestal represent the battles of Marignano and Cerisole. This tomb, like that of Louis XII, is ultimately based on the Visconti monument in the Certosa, but it exhibits a much later and more refined development of French Renaissance sculpture than its predecessor. It is by Germain Pilon, Philibert Delorme, and (perhaps) Jean Goujon. The architectural plan is noble and severe: but it lacks the more naïve beauty of Jean Juste’s workmanship.


  It was the curious custom to treat the bodies of French Kings (who, as royal, were almost sacred) much as the relics of the Saints were treated. Hence the head and heart were often preserved separately and in different places from the body to which they belonged. François Ier himself was interred here: but an urn to hold his heart was placed in the Abbaye des Hautes Bruyères, near Rambouillet. This urn is a fine Renaissance work by Pierre Bontemps. Taken to Lenoir’s Musée des Monuments at the Revolution, it was afterwards placed beside the king’s tomb in this Basilica.

  Look out in the Apse for the Altar of St. Denis, and his fellow-martyrs. Near it used once to hang the Oriflamme, that very sacred banner which was only removed when a King of France took the field in person. It was last used at Agincourt. A reproduction now represents it.

  The other monuments can be best observed by the brief notes given as we pass them. The arrangements for seeing them are quite as bad as those in our own cathedrals, and it is impossible to get near enough to examine them properly. Therefore, take your bearings from the Nave before you enter, and try to understand the architecture of the choir as far as possible before you pass the barriers.

  Disregard the remarks made by the guide (who expects a tip), and read these brief notes for yourself as you pass the objects.]

  Enter the enclosure.

  North Aisle: L, several good mediæval recumbent tombs, mostly from other abbeys, named on placards. Read them.