XII Ste. Marie D’Auch
The first bishop of Auch was Citerius, in the fourth century. Subsequently the Province d’Auch became the see of an archbishop, who was Primate of Aquitaine. This came to pass when the office was abolished or transferred from Eauze in the eighth century. The diocese is thus established in antiquity, and endures to-day with suffragans at Aire, Tarbes, and Bayonne.
The cathedral of Ste. Marie d’Auch is not of itself an ancient structure, dating only from the late fifteenth century. Its choir, however, ranks among the most celebrated in the Gothic style in all Europe, and the entire edifice is usually accorded as being the most thoroughly characteristic (though varied as to the excellence of its details) church of the Midi of France, though built at a time when the ogival style was projecting its last rays of glory over the land.
In its general plan it is of generous though not majestic proportions, and is rich and aspiring in its details throughout.
An ancient altar in this present church is supposed to have come from the humble basilica which was erected here by St. Taurin, bishop of Eauze, soon after the foundation of the see. If this is so, it is certainly of great antiquity, and is exceedingly valuable as the record of an art expression of that early day.
Taurin II., in 845, rebuilt a former church, which stood on the site of the present cathedral; but, its dimensions not proving great enough for the needs of the congregation, St. Austinde, in 1048, built a much larger church, which was consecrated early in the twelfth century.
Various other structures were undertaken, some completed only in part and others to the full; but it was not until 1548 that the present Ste. Marie was actually consecrated by Jean Dumas.
“This gorgeous ceremony,” says the Abbé Bourassé, “was accomplished amid great pomp on the anniversary day of the dedication of the eleventh-century basilica on the same site.”
In 1597 further additions were made to the vaulting, and the fine choir glass added. Soon after this time, the glass of the nave chapels was put into place, being the gift of Dominique de Vic. The final building operations—as might be expected—show just the least suspicion of debasement. This quality is to be remarked in the choir-screen, the porch and towers, and in the balustrades of the chapels, to say nothing of the organ supports.
The west front is, in part, as late as the seventeenth century.
In this façade there is an elaborately traceried rose window, indicating in its painted glass a “Glory of Angels.” It is not a great work, as these chief decorative features of French mediæval architecture go, but is highly ornate by reason of its florid tracery, and dates, moreover, from that period when the really great accomplishment of designing in painted glass was approaching its maturity.
If any feature of remark exists to excite undue criticism, it is that of a certain incongruity or mixture of style, which, while not widely separated in point of time, has great variation as to excellence.
In spite of this there is, in the general ensemble, an imposing picturesqueness to which distance lends the proverbial degree of enchantment.
The warm mouse-coloured cathedral and its archbishop’s palace, when seen in conjunction with the modern ornamental gardens and escalier at the rear, produces an effect more nearly akin to an Italian composition than anything of a like nature in France.
It is an ensemble most interesting and pleasing, but as a worthy artistic effort it does perhaps fall short of the ideal.
The westerly towers are curious heavy works after the “French Classical” manner in vogue during the reign of Louis XIV. They are not beautiful of themselves, and quite unexpressive of the sanctity which should surround a great church.
The portal is richly decorated, and contains statues of St. Roche and St. Austinde. It has been called an “imitation of the portal of St. Peter’s at Rome,” but this is an opinion wholly unwarranted by a personal acquaintance therewith. The two bear no resemblance except that they are both very inferior to the magnificent Gothic portals of the north.
The interior embellishments are as mixed as to style, and of as varied worth, as those of the exterior.
The painted glass (by a Gascon artist, Arnaud de Moles, 1573) is usually reckoned as of great beauty. This it hardly is, though of great value and importance as showing the development of the art which produced it. The colour is rich,—which it seldom is in modern glass,—but the design is coarse and crude, a distinction that most modern glass has as well. Ergo, we have not advanced greatly in this art.
The chief feature of artistic merit is the series of one hundred and thirteen choir-stalls, richly and wonderfully carved in wood. If not the superior to any others in France, these remarkable examples of Renaissance woodwork are the equal of any, and demonstrate, once again, that it was in wood-carving, rather than sculptures in stone, that Renaissance art achieved its greatest success.
A distinct feature is the disposition made of the accessories of the fine choir. It is surrounded by an elaborate screen, surmounted by sculpture of a richness quite uncommon in any but the grander and more wealthy churches.
Under the reign of St. Louis many of the grand cathedrals and the larger monastic churches were grandly favoured with this accessory, notably at Amiens and Beauvais, at Burgos in Spain, and at Canterbury.
Here the elaborate screen was designed to protect the ranges of stalls and their canopied dossiers, and give a certain seclusion to the chapter and officiants.
Elsewhere—out of regard for the people it is to be presumed—this feature was in many known instances done away with, and the material of which it was constructed—often of great richness—made use of in chapels subsequently erected in the walls of the apside or in the side aisles of the nave. This is to be remarked at Rodez particularly, where the reërected clôture is still the show-piece of the cathedral.
The organ buffet is, as usual (in the minds of the local resident), a remarkably fine piece of cabinet-work and nothing more. One always qualifies this by venturing the opinion that no one ever really does admire these overpowering and ungainly accessories.
What triforium there is is squat and ugly, with ungraceful openings, and the high-altar is a modern work in the pseudo-classic style, quite unworthy as a work of art.
The five apsidal chapels are brilliant with coloured glass, but otherwise are not remarkable.
In spite of all incongruity, Ste. Marie d’Auch is one of those fascinating churches in and about which one loves to linger. It is hard to explain the reason for this, except that its environment provides the atmosphere which is the one necessary ingredient to a full realization of the appealing qualities of a stately church.
The archiepiscopal palace adjoins the cathedral in the rear, and has a noble donjon of the fourteenth century. Its career of the past must have been quite uneventful, as history records no very bloody or riotous events which have taken place within or before its walls.
Fénelon was a student at the College of Auch, and his statue adorns the Promenade du Fossé.