NOTE NN. Vol. ii. p. 240.
The Dates of the Building of Le Mans Cathedral.
I have more than once, in the History of the Norman Conquest, had to speak of the dates of the various parts of the church of Saint Julian at Le Mans. The subject is so closely connected with so many names which appear in our story that an inquiry of this kind can hardly be thought out of place. My later visits to Le Mans have enabled me to examine and consider several points again; and I am now inclined to think that there is very little, if anything, standing in the present church of an earlier date than William the Conqueror’s first taking of Le Mans in 1063. I have got some help from a local book, called “Recherches sur la Cathédrale du Mans. Par L’Abbé….” (Le Mans, 1872); but its architectural criticism is not of a high order. Another local book, “L’Ancien Chapitre Cathédral du Mans, par Armand Bellée, Archiviste de la Sarthe” (Le Mans, 1875), is a very thorough piece of capitular history, but it throws little light on the architecture.
The earliest church of which we have any certain account was a basilica of the ninth century. Saint Aldric, bishop from 832 to 856, rebuilt the cathedral church, of which he consecrated the eastern part in 834 and the rest in 835. I have for these dates to trust the author of the “Recherches sur la Cathédrale du Mans,” who quotes from a manuscript life of Aldric in the library at Le Mans. (I have seen the volume, and I could wish that it was in print.) The time allowed for the building is wonderfully short; but Aldric, if he did all that is attributed to him by the Biographer of the Bishops (Vet. An. 276), must have been a man of wonderful energy. There is nothing said directly of his works at Saint Julian’s; but they might almost be taken for granted when we hear of the many churches which he built and restored (“Ædificia quæ prædictus pontifex multipliciter a novo operatus est, et ecclesias sive nonnulla monasteria quæ a novo fundavit atque perficere et ornare studuit, necnon et restaurationes aliorum monasteriorum et ceterarum ecclesiarum,” &c. &c. &c). In the days of the next Bishop Robert (856–885) Le Mans was sacked by the Northmen and the church burned. We are of course met by the usual difficulty as to the amount of destruction which is implied in words of this kind; but it naturally led to a restoration, and to a new dedication, on which last point however it seems to have been thought needful to consult the Pope (“Matrem ecclesiam, a paganis incensam, diligenti studio renovavit, et ex consilio Romani antistitis jam denuo celeberrime consecravit;” 287*). We hear again (296*) of a dedication under Bishop Mainard (940–960); but not of any rebuilding, just as in some of the intermediate episcopates (Vet. An. 288* et seqq.) we hear a good deal about havoc and desecration, but nothing about actual destruction. The church of Aldric, allowing for the restorations of Robert and any later repairs, seems plainly to have stood till the days of Vulgrin (1055–1067), the earliest Bishop of Le Mans who has even an indirect share in the building of the present church. No work of his, unless possibly the merest fragments, seems to be now standing; but he was the beginner of a great work of rebuilding which gave us what we now see.
In the Life of Vulgrin (Vet. An. 312*) we are simply told that in 1060 he began the foundations of a new church on a greater scale (“Quinto ordinationis suæ anno fundamenta matris ecclesiæ ampliora quam fuerant, inchoavit, sed morte inopina superveniente perficere non potuit”). His foundations were badly laid and his work was unskilful; so that, while attempts were making under his successor Arnold (1067–1082) to prop it up, it fell down. Arnold accordingly destroyed the whole work of Vulgrin, and began again from a new foundation. The extent of his work is clearly marked. He finished the eastern limb, as far as its walls and outer roof were concerned; its internal adornments he left for his successor. Of the transepts with their towers he merely laid the foundations;
“Fabrica novæ ecclesiæ quam præsul Vulgrinus inchoaverat, fundamentorum mobilitate atque lapidum debilitate corrupta, innumera crepidine ruinam suam cœpit terribiliter minitari; quam dum artifices fulcire conantur, repentino fragore nocturno tempore collapsa est…. Inde … episcopus totam cœpti operis fabricam usque ad ima fundamenta destruens, denuo ipsam ecclesiam fundamento firmiori et solidiori lapide construere cœpit, et parti superiori quæ vulgo cancellum nominatur etiam tectum imposuit, membrorum quoque quæ cruces vocantur atque turrium solidissima fundamenta antequam moreretur instituens” (313*).
That he added only the outer roof is plain from what we read of his successor Howel (Vet. An. 289). As Howel adorned the “cancellum” with a pavement and stained glass windows, he also added a painted ceiling;
“Cancellum quod ejus antecessor construxerat pavimento decoravit et cœlo, vitreas quoque per ipsum cancellum, per quod cruces circum quoque laudabili sed sumptuosa nimium artis varietate disponens.”
So again, p. 299;
“Cœpit … superiores partes ejusdem basilicæ diligenti sollicitudine laborare, oratorium scilicet quod chorum vocitant sedemque pontificalem, altaria congrua dimensione disponere, pavimenta substernere, columnas ac laquearia gratissima varietate depingere, parietes per circuitum dealbare.”
Howel also finished the transepts and towers of which Arnold had merely laid the foundations (Vet. An. 289);
“Fabricam novæ ecclesiæ … tanto studio aggressus est consummare ut cruces atque turres, quarum antecessor ipsius … jecerat fundamenta brevi tempore ad effectum perduxit.”
We see then what the work of Vulgrin and Arnold was. It touched the eastern part only; Aldric’s nave was left alone. The original church was a basilica, most likely with three apses, but without transepts. The new design was to rebuild the eastern part on a greater scale with transepts, transept towers (like Geneva and Exeter), and a choir ending in an apse with a surrounding aisle and chapels—as is shown by the mention of many altars. The arrangement was that of the two other great churches of Le Mans, La Couture and Saint Julian in the Meadow, with the single exception of the towers, which do not appear in either of those churches. Arnold built the choir, and began the transepts and towers; Howel adorned the choir and finished the transepts and towers. There is nothing to imply that either of them touched the nave. The arcades of Aldric’s basilica were therefore still standing when William the Great came in 1063 and again in 1073. The work of Vulgrin in the eastern part was doubtless going on at the earlier of those two dates, and that of Arnold at the later.
It must be plain to every one who has seen the building that the work of these bishops in the eastern part of the church has given way to the later choir and transepts. The choir was built between 1218 and 1254, and its great extension to the east involved, as at Lincoln, the destruction of part of the Roman wall. The transepts were built at several times from 1303 to 1424. They are among the very noblest works of the architecture of those centuries; but we may be allowed to rejoice that, as the works of Vulgrin and Arnold left Aldric’s nave standing, so the great works of the thirteenth century and later have left the nave which succeeded that of Aldric. With all its artistic loveliness, the work of the later day cannot share the historic interest of the works of the times of William and Howel, of Helias and Hildebert.
In the present nave it is plain at the first glance that there are two dates of Romanesque; a further examination may perhaps lead to the belief that there are more than two. It is easy to see outside that the aisles and the clerestory are of different dates. The masonry of the aisles is of that Roman type which, in places like Le Mans, where Roman models were abundant, remained in use far into the middle ages, and which in some places can hardly be said to have ever gone out of use at all. The masonry of the clerestory is ashlar. The difference is equally clear between the plain single windows of the aisles and the highly finished coupled windows of the clerestory. Inside, the eye soon sees that the design has undergone a singular change. Without the pulling down of any part, the church put on a new character. Columns supporting round arches after the manner of a basilica were changed into a series of alternate columns and square piers supporting obtusely pointed arches. Each pair of arches therefore forms a couplet, and answers to a single bay of the pointed vaulting and a single pair of windows in the clerestory. The object clearly was to give the building as nearly the air of an Angevin nave, like that of La Couture (see N. C. vol. v. p. 619), as could be given where there were real piers and arches. Now this reconstruction, one which brings in the pointed arch, cannot possibly be earlier than the episcopate of William of Passavant, Bishop from 1143 to 1187. He was a great builder; he translated the body of Saint Julian (Vet. An. 366); he celebrated a dedication of the church (Ib. 370), which my local book fixes, seemingly from manuscripts, to 1158, a date a little early perhaps for such advanced work, but not impossible. To William of Passavant then we must attribute the recasting of the nave, and whatever else seems to be of the same date. To this last head belongs the great south porch, and, I should be inclined to add, the lower part of the southern, the only remaining, tower, though some assign it to Hildebert. The question now comes, What was the nave which William of Passavant recast in this fashion, and whose work was it?
We have seen that we cannot attribute any work in the nave to any prelate earlier than Howel. He must have found the nave of the ninth century still standing. Did he do anything in that part of the church? He performed a ceremony of dedication in 1093 (Vet. An. 300); but that would be fully accounted for by his works in the eastern part. On the other hand, Hildebert celebrated in 1120 (Vet. An. 320) a specially solemn dedication, and the words used seem to imply that the church was now complete in all its parts. The words of Orderic (531 D) seem express. Howel began to build the church (“episcopalem basilicam … condere cœpit”); Hildebert finished it (“basilicam episcopii quam prædecessor ejus inchoaverat, consummavit, et cum ingenti populorum tripudio veneranter dedicavit”). It is doubtless not strictly true that Howel began the church, words which shut out the work of Vulgrin and Arnold; but the time when Orderic wrote makes him a better authority for Hildebert’s finishing than for Howel’s beginning, and the expression might easily be used if Howel began that particular work, namely the nave, which Hildebert finished. I do not think that we need infer from certain expressions of the Biographer that Hildebert left the nave, or any essential part of the building, unfinished. He says indeed (Vet. An. 320);
“Hildebertus opus ecclesiæ, quod per longa tempora protractum fuerat, suo tempore insistens consummare, dedicationem ultra quam res exposcebat accelerans, multa inibi necessaria inexpleta præteriit.”
Comparing this with the words of Orderic, this surely need not mean more than that, though the fabric was perfect, yet much of the ornamental work was left unfinished. Hildebert, in short, left the nave much as Arnold left the choir. At least the nave was in this case when he dedicated the church. For he had time after the dedication to make good anything that was imperfect.
We should then infer from Orderic that the nave which William of Passavant recast was begun by Howel and finished by Hildebert. This may give us the key to a passage in the Biographer on which we might otherwise be inclined to put another meaning. After describing Howel’s building of the transepts in the words quoted above in p. 635, he goes on (289);
“Eisque [crucibus] celeriter culmen imponens, exteriores etiam parietes, quos alas vocant, per circuitum consummavit.”
One might have been tempted to take this of transept aisles; but, weighing one thing with another, it seems to be best understood as meaning that Howel rebuilt the whole of the outer walls of the nave and its aisles. This would give to him the whole extent of the quasi-Roman work of the aisles, together with the great western doorway. The interior work of the aisles seems also to agree with his date. We must therefore suppose that Howel rebuilt the nave aisles only, still leaving the arches of Aldric’s basilica. Then Hildebert rebuilt or thoroughly restored the nave itself, with the columns and arches and whatever they carried in the way of triforium and clerestory. We may therefore suppose that the existing columns, as distinguished from the square piers, are his work, though the splendid capitals of many of them must have been added or carved out of the block in the recasting by William of Passavant.
There is however one fragment of the nave arcades which is older than Hildebert, very likely older than Howel. This is to be seen in the first pier from the east. I need not say that the eastern bay of a nave often belongs to an older work than the rest, being in truth part of the eastern limb continued so far—perhaps for constructive reasons, to act as a buttress—perhaps for ritual reasons, to mark the ritual choir—very often for both reasons combined. One of the best examples is that small part of the nave of Durham abbey which belongs to the work of William of Saint-Calais (see N. C. vol. v. p. 631). At this point then in the nave of Le Mans, we find half columns with capitals and bases of a strangely rude kind, more like Primitive Romanesque (see N. C. vol. v. pp. 613, 618, 628) than anything either Norman or Angevin. These are assuredly not the work of Hildebert. There is one argument for assigning them to Howel, namely that something of the same kind is to be found in the remains of the northern tower of which I shall speak in another Note (see below, Note RR). But if any one holds them to be the work of Arnold or of Vulgrin, or even looks on them as a surviving fragment of the basilica of the days of Lewis the Pious, I shall not dispute against him.
I must add however that, between Hildebert and William of Passavant, we have, according to the use of Le Mans, to account for two fires—“solita civitatis incendia,” as the Biographer (Vet. An. 349) calls them—and their consequences. In 1134 there was a fire which, according to the Biographer (350), was more fearful than any which had ever happened at Le Mans since the city was built, not even excepting the great one of 1098. Everything perished. “Tota Cenomannensis civitas cum omnibus ecclesiis quæ intra muros continebantur, evanuit in favillas.” We read of the “matris ecclesiæ destructio” and “combustio,” all the more lamentable because of its beauty—“ipsa enim tam venustate sui quam claritate tunc temporis vicinis et remotis excellebat ecclesiis.” So Orderic (899 B); “Tunc Cenomannis episcopalis basilica, quæ pulcherrima erat, concremata est.” The then Bishop, Guy of Étampes (1126–1136), spent two hundred pounds in trying to repair the damage; “Ad cujus restaurationem cc. libras Cenomannenses dedit, sine mora contulit, et omnibus modis desudavit quomodo ipsa ad perpetuitatem decenter potuisset restaurari.” Under the next Bishop, Hugh of Saint-Calais (1146–1153), there was another fire, the account of which is very curious (Vet. An. 349);
“Ignis circa meridiem a vico sancti Vincentii prosiliens, sibi opposita usque ad muros civitatis et domos episcopales, tegmenque sacelli beati Juliani adhuc stramineum, cum fenestris vitreis concremavit et macerias, et in summis imagines sculptas lapidibus deturbavit.”
The people break open the shrine of Saint Julian in order to save his body, which they carry to the place where the Bishop was. The Bishop seems to have repaired the episcopal buildings before he touched the church, and the details have some interest in the history of domestic architecture (“domum petrinam ex parte sancti Audoëni positam, decenti solariorum interpositu numerosas fenestras habentium cum sua camera continuavit”). Presently we read;
“Beatissimum patrem nostrum Julianum ipso die a lignea basilica in occidentali membro ecclesiæ intra macerias facta, post incendium in qua fere triennio requieverat, in redivivam sollenniter, clero cantibus insultante, populo congaudente, transtulerunt ecclesiam.”
We do not hear of any more building, but there is a long list (Vet. An. 354) of the ornaments which Bishop Hugh gave to the Church.
Some of the expressions used in these passages are very odd. “Sacellum beati Juliani” is a strange phrase for the cathedral church, and yet the thatched roof and the glass windows must be spoken of a building and not of a mere shrine. It is Saint Julian’s church itself whose roof and windows are spoken of. But the phrase “lignea basilica,” which makes one think of Glastonbury, must not lead us to think that any wooden church of early days was then standing at Le Mans. The whole story seems quite intelligible, without supposing any really architectural work between Hildebert and William of Passavant. The language of the Biographer in describing the fire of 1134 is, as so often happens, very much exaggerated. His own account shows that the walls of the church were left standing. It looks on the whole as if the roof was destroyed in 1134. It was hastily repaired with thatch. It was burned again, and the clerestory (“fenestræ vitreæ”) with it, at the next fire in 1146–1153. The whole church perhaps remained for a while unfit for divine service. Then some wooden structure (“lignea basilica”) was raised within the walls of the nave (“in occidentali membro ecclesiæ intra macerias facta”). Meanwhile Bishop Hugh repaired the choir (“rediviva ecclesia”), seemingly doing nothing to the nave. Bishop William, finding things in this state, rebuilt the clerestory and vaulted it Angevin fashion. So to do required that every alternate column of the nave should be built up into a square pier. This again required a change in the line of the arches, and, according to the fashion just coming in, they were made obtusely pointed. If any one thinks that the superb foliage of the nave capitals must be later than 1158, he may hold that they were cut out afterwards, or he may even hold that Bishop William’s dedication in that year belongs only to the eastern parts—where something was clearly done in his time or thereabouts—and that the whole recasting of the nave came later in his long episcopate.
I am not writing an architectural history of the church of Saint Julian, and I have perhaps, as it is, gone more into detail than my subject called for. I think that any one who has been at Le Mans will forgive me. But there are many architectural points in this wonderful church on which I have not entered. There is much also in the other two minsters of Le Mans which throws much light on the work at Saint Julian’s. I have merely tried in a general way to assign to their most probable dates and founders the different parts of a church which so often meets us in our present history.